The next morning.

Suho and Mark got up and went straight to a coffee shop, phones out on the table.

Ten in the morning. Mark’s rang first.

He drew a deep breath and answered.

A moment later a bright smile spread over his face.

“I— I passed! They’re signing me!”

Not long after, Suho’s phone buzzed as well.

His hands were shaking so badly he barely managed to answer.

Kevin’s voice came through from the other end.

—Suho Oh. What you showed us at the test yesterday was genuinely impressive. The Dodgers rate your potential highly and we hope you’ll join us.

At the offer of a contract, Suho’s head bowed on its own.

A moment he had only dreamed about was becoming real.

“Thank you! Thank you very much! When and where should I go?”

The agreement was made, so it was hardly likely to fall through.

And Suho wanted the pen in his hand that second.

Kevin smiled at how high his voice had gone and continued.

—Give me the location and I’ll come to you.

“Ah! I’m at a coffee shop with Mark.”

—Yes. I have the address. It’ll take about an hour.

Suho hung up and looked at Mark.

“Mark, they’re signing me too!”

There was a fine tremor in his voice.

A feeling far more overwhelming than being drafted in the KBO rose in him.

Back then it had been a vague dream, one he believed would naturally come true if he worked.

This was a lifeline caught again like a miracle, at the far end of learning that some things don’t come no matter how hard you work.

Mark clenched a fist.

“Knew you’d make it. Honestly, if you don’t make it, who does?”

An hour later, Kevin arrived at the coffee shop.

A farm director is the senior figure with authority over the entire minor league system.

That he had come to handle the contracts himself meant the Dodgers saw these two not as ordinary prospects.

But as talent they had particular expectations of.

“Who’d like to go first?”

Mark stepped forward.

“I’ll go.”

This is the sort of thing I should go first on.

Suho’s a lunatic who cares about baseball and not money, so he won’t negotiate properly anyway.

“Very good. Let’s take that quiet corner.”

The two of them moved to the corner and sat.

Kevin immediately drew out a single sheet of paper and set it on the table.

The contract.

Only the name was filled in.

None of the particulars.

Kevin began, his voice gentle.

“Mark Williams. Good to see you again. Today is where we finalize your entry into the Dodgers organization. Before you sign, is there any condition you’d like to ask of us?”

Mark hesitated a moment.

Should he be honest about it?

He drew a deep breath and spoke.

“Things at home aren’t good. I’d like to help my parents even a little. I’ll do everything I can and show you my best, so could you raise the salary?”

No salary had been named yet.

And there was a real urgency in his voice.

He evidently knew the minor league system well enough to ask early.

Kevin nodded.

He wasn’t especially surprised by a request for more money.

A great many young players had asked the same.

Then he looked Mark straight in the eye.

“We also rate your talent and your drive highly. But there are matters fixed by club regulation. You’ve been assigned to Low-A, and it’s difficult for us to pay you more than $26,200. The salary is guaranteed. That amount is paid only while the season is running.”

Disappointment crossed Mark’s face.

The minimum salary. Meaning nothing above it was available.

And that money was far too little to live on in America.

Mark knew it, of course.

If he’d wanted otherwise he should have taken a large sum in the draft.

Kevin smiled and continued.

“However, in recognition of your potential and your performance at yesterday’s test, we’re additionally offering a signing bonus of $75,000.”

A signing bonus is paid the moment a player signs.

This was the result of the high value placed on Mark’s potential back in high school.

“I hope the money helps you in your life.”

Mark’s eyes went wide.

Seventy-five thousand dollars.

Far higher than he’d expected.

Money he wouldn’t have gotten if he hadn’t shown well at the test.

“Additionally, as part of player welfare, the club provides team housing and meal support during the season. And for you, given your injury history, the Dodgers’ medical facilities and a dedicated medical staff’s rehabilitation program are fully covered should an injury occur. Our organization treats player health and safety as the first priority.”

Mark nodded with a satisfied smile.

The salary itself was a disappointment, but the bonus and the club’s support went past expectation.

He picked up the pen without hesitating.

“Yes, I’ll sign. Thank you!”

Mark signed the contract with a bright smile.

With Mark’s contract settled, Kevin took a moment to gather himself and called Suho over.

Suho sat down at the table, tension on his face.

Kevin spread out the contract with Suho’s name on it.

“Suho Oh. Good to see you again. Today is where we finalize your entry into the Dodgers organization. Before you sign, is there any condition you’d like to ask of us?”

Suho spoke without hesitating.

“Development… I want a system and coaching that can shore up my weakness and draw my potential out to its maximum. That’s what I’m hoping for most from the Dodgers.”

What came next was firmer still.

“I believe money follows naturally once ability is proven. What I need right now isn’t money. It’s the opportunity and the time to prove my potential.”

Kevin’s eyes widened for a moment, apparently startled by the answer.

He had met any number of prospects.

But a player who asked for development rather than money at the contract table, and asked for it that firmly, was a first.

Usually you saw greed, a man trying to squeeze out one more coin.

Or the nervousness of someone cowed by the opportunity in front of him.

In Suho’s eyes there was only a pure hunger for baseball.

And the ambition to prove what he could become.

Frank was right. This one’s the real thing.

Kevin got himself in order and asked.

“Is that really all?”

“Yes.”

A faint smile spread at the corner of Kevin’s mouth.

Frank was right about this too. He said money would never come up.

And in fact Suho had no interest in money.

Getting paid well would be pleasant, obviously.

But now wasn’t the time to put money first.

Money… I can earn later.

He would ask once he had the ability to earn it.

Kevin nodded.

“Understood. We rate your drive and your will highly. From here I’ll go over the terms the Dodgers are offering. I can promise you they’re the best terms your potential merits.”

Kevin opened the first page.

“First, the contract term is one year. The salary is the Low Single-A minimum of $26,200. It’s paid only while the season is running.”

The minimum, the same as Mark’s.

But Suho’s interest was somewhere other than the money.

“Low-A?”

“Yes. Is there a problem?”

“Isn’t Rookie ball the lowest league?”

“Ha. You’ll be going to Low-A to start. Rookie ball is where the new kids go, and you’re past it on both ability and age.”

Kevin went on.

“You said you have no interest in money, but this is a contract discussion, so I’ll continue. Separate from salary, we’re offering a signing bonus of $125,000.”

Suho couldn’t contain his surprise.

He stared at the figure written on the contract.

Less than the signing bonus I got in the KBO.

But for a player released by a KBO club, one who’d come through an independent league tryout at that, a bonus like this.

It was a sum he couldn’t have dared imagine.

“And there will be full support for the training and development program. As specified in Article 3, Section 2, a dedicated hitting coach will be assigned for correction of your hitting mechanics. An individually tailored training program will be provided through data analysis systems including the latest TrackMan and Rapsodo. This is a strong statement of the organization’s intention to turn the potential you have into reality.”

Suho’s heart started hammering without mercy.

The chance to shore up his weakness under the best infrastructure and coaching.

And to turn failure into success.

The condition he had wanted most.

And then, hearing the additional terms, all he could do was blink.

Housing, meals, and medical facilities all covered as player welfare?

The same terms as Mark’s.

But for Suho this was genuinely the finest contract there was.

An opportunity to learn at the best organization and the best facilities, and be paid for it.

There was a reason the Dodgers had put such good terms on the table, however.

And what came out of Kevin’s mouth next was where Suho’s terms diverged from Mark’s.

Kevin broke off, lifted his eyes from the paperwork, and looked directly at Suho.

The gentle smile of a moment ago was gone, and the cold face of the man responsible for the entire minor league system showed through.

“All of these terms are valid only when you produce exceptional results, Mr. Oh.”

Kevin watched Suho’s eyes waver, and his voice dropped lower.

“As I said, the contract term is one year. However, the salary is non-guaranteed. That means if the club releases you during the term, the remaining salary is not paid. If you fall short of our expectations, the contract can be terminated at any time.”

Kevin went on regardless.

“You in particular are older than the other prospects. We expect growth and results at a pace matching what we’re investing in you.”

Kevin caught his breath and added a final condition that seemed to run straight through Suho’s heart.

“As specified in Article 4, Section 1, if within one year of signing you fail to be promoted to a higher league — that is, to High Single-A or above — or fail to show growth the organization finds acceptable, the Dodgers have the right to terminate the contract and release you.”

The Dodgers are the best organization in the world, and the competition inside it is fierce to match.

He was telling Suho to keep in mind that every day here was survival.

This was the cold reality hidden behind the good terms.

You receive the best support, and if you don’t produce results to match it, you can be discarded without mercy.

The memory of being released by the KBO went through him again.

Strangely, I’m not afraid.

Because where that release had been a death sentence saying he had no talent.

This contract with the Dodgers was something else.

A test asking me to prove that I do.

A sentence and a test are entirely different things.

So Suho closed his fist tighter instead.

Were the Dodgers’ terms unreasonable?

They weren’t.

They had promised him the best support there was.

And if he produced nothing under it, the problem was entirely his own.

I won’t fail this time.

Suho picked up the pen without hesitating and signed.

There was nowhere to retreat to anyway.

But conversely.

If he succeeded here.

Then it wouldn’t stop at the wish of playing a little more baseball.

He might get to knock on the door of the major leagues, a thing he had never dared to dream of.

End of Chapter 17