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  • Carp Tales: Marty Brown

    Carp Tales: Marty Brown

    by Robert K, Fitts

    As a player I had kind of an up and down career. I played a year and a half, two years, in the big leagues, off and on, and it just didn’t look as though that [an MLB career] was going to happen. I played for Charlie Manuel, who managed the Phillies in the World Series and had played in Japan as well. He was managing Cleveland Indians AAA team, and he wanted me on his team. I ended up being kind of a utility player. I went to him and said, “Hey man, I would love to play in Japan.” I was really not the prototypical player to go to Japan because they wanted a Jessie Barfield or Lloyd Mosby, those type of guys. But Hiroshima is a smaller market, and they had an interest. When their scout came over to see me, I performed very well, and he signed me.

    When I went over, I really went into it wholeheartedly. I wanted to make a good impression. I did all their practice stuff. I was doing everything. Man, at the end of the year I was tuckered out! It was just their workload, what they did, plus we practice differently. Americans here practice full tilt, like in a game, whereas Japanese sometimes back off. They get a lot out of 70%. That’s just how they practice. You hear about some of the ridiculous things that they do, like they’ll go take 1000 swings, right? Well, there’s nobody that can do that full tilt. One of the examples on the pitching side, is Hiroki Kuroda, who pitched for me when I was managing. He just had a chip removed from his elbow and on his first day back, he said, “I want to throw a 100-pitch bullpen.” I said, “Why would you want to do that?” “Don’t worry,” he said, “I’ll throw probably 15 full tilt. I’ll back off on everything else.”  He just wanted to show the press that he was healthy. That was very important to him.

    I didn’t know a lot about Japanese baseball before I went over. I knew Mr. Baseball and I had friends who had gone over; some were successful, some weren’t. The guys who were really successful in the States were not always so successful in Japan. There was a different mindset when it came to Japanese baseball, as opposed to American baseball. I think the speed of the game in the United States is obviously faster. Players can adapt to the speed of the game, whereas in Japan they have a way of being successful that works for them and that’s what they want to do. They don’t deviate from that very much. It’s a kind of old school like mid 1940s. They still practice a lot that way.

    [When I joined the Carp in 1992] everybody was upbeat about how the team had done the year before. [They had won the Central League pennant]. I had some really good teammates, like Tomonori Maeda and Kenjiro Nomura. Akira Etoh was there. He led the league in home runs, and I hit behind him normally. 1992 was a pretty satisfying year for me individually. I had a pretty good season. There were a lot of really good players, but we had aging pitching staff. Manabu Kitabeppu was getting older. It was unfortunate that we just kind of ran out of pitching, because we had such a good nucleus of position players. We just didn’t have enough bullpen [arms] to really take care of the bigger-tier teams. The Giants were difficult, and the Swallows were really a good team at that time with Atsuya Furuta and their manager [Katsuya] Nomura-san. So, it was a really challenging season, but we played well. It was a lot of fun and I really enjoyed Hiroshima, especially the fans and the atmosphere. That was pretty cool. The following year [1993], we had some issues with injuries, myself included. That was difficult.

    I was always an aggressive player. It’s just the way I’ve always played. I think a lot of players on the Japanese teams were surprised because it was not the norm. I can remember, [early in the season] scoring from first base on a double. As I came into home, the ball was getting there just as I came to the plate and I knocked the catcher over. The ball popped out and I scored, and we ended up winning by a run. People didn’t like the fact that I knocked the catcher over. But as I got up, I tried to see if I could help because I think I broke his collar bone. Everybody could see that I was trying to help him because it was a televised game against the Giants. So, everybody saw me as being hardnosed and they just knew how I played. They were pretty accepting. I think some of the fans in Hiroshima actually enjoyed it.

    When I was a player, there was a veteran locker room in Hiroshima, and there was a rookies locker room. The rookies didn’t stay with the veterans unless the rookie had a friend who was a veteran. I was in the veteran locker room. It was very small and all of my teammates smoked like fish! [As a foreign player] you can feel isolated sometimes, and you have to learn how to live with it. I didn’t speak the language very well at all. Also, I was by myself. Louis Medina got hurt his first year, so I didn’t have a teammate. Robinson Checo, a young Latin kid came over, but he didn’t know any English. They called me in to interpret for him, but I didn’t know Spanish! So, I went in and said, “Que pasa?” That’s about all I knew.  There were a lot of really quirky things like that that happened over there.

    After I stopped playing, I managed in the Minor Leagues. As a AAA manager in Buffalo, we had some good teams. In 2004 we won a championship and in 2005, we had another good team, but we ended up losing in the playoffs. A good friend of mine, Erik Schullstrom was a scout for Hiroshima, and he said, “How would you feel about managing for the Carp?” I said, “Oh, man, that that would be a great opportunity. I’d love to do that.” He went back and introduced the idea to the owner (I had played for his father). He came to Charlotte, and we had an interview, and they said “Yeah, let’s do this.” That’s kind of how it went down. It was a little difficult at first.

    I think I was kind of a stopgap until they got a Japanese manager in there after I was gone. I don’t think it was ever intended for me to win as a manager. I think in their mind they just wanted to try to get somebody else ready and then when they were ready, they could go ahead and kick me loose, which that was fine with me. Didn’t have a problem with that. It was what it was. I thought we did a lot of really good things and I enjoyed my time there as a manager and a player.

    Koji Yamamoto was my manger when I played for the Carp and also managed just before I was hired in 2006. Yamamoto is just a super guy. The two nicest people I was around in baseball would be Sadaharu Oh, who I managed against, and Yamamoto-san. He really wanted me to help [the Carp], and he was very positive about me coming over there. That was pretty cool. As an American managing in Japan, some guys get paranoid because they think somebody’s going to do something to sabotage [the changes] they’re trying to get through. I didn’t have that. Some of my coaching staff were former teammates of mine and they wanted to see change. The Carp hadn’t won in a while and so they wanted to see an American way of doing things and then get back to Japanese style at some point refreshed.

    The way Yamamoto would work the bullpen, it was about complete games. For example, he would leave Hiroki Kuroda in to complete a game because Kuroda at 60% was better than everybody else in the bullpen. Yamamoto-san wouldn’t even go down and ask Kuroda if he was okay. He would just leave him in there. And Kuroda wasn’t going to say anything. He just kept doing it. I got to manage Kuroda for a while, and said, “Would you rather go through and face these guys, the meat of the order, for the fourth time in the ninth inning when you’re dead tired, or would you rather hand it over to the bullpen when you’ve done your job for that day with a certain amount of pitches? That keeps you healthier.”  We even tried him on four days rest. We didn’t really have to, but we tried it just because he wanted to show people in the States that he could do it. And he did okay. He was just not used to it. He was used to pitching every Sunday. That’s another thing that’s different over there, the rotation and how they worked it. Star players were always going to pitch on Sunday, and they announced their pitchers. There were never any flip flops or any of that. As a manager I didn’t understand that. The ownership was like, “Well, [the fans] want to know when they’re going to pitch.” And I said, “Well, they will come [to the ballpark] anyway.” We went through this one time, when Kuroda, pitching on short rest, pitched on a Saturday. It’s just a different mindset. I did it a little more of the American way when I was there, but I [ultimately] did what the owner wanted to do. It was his team.

    When I played, [most Japanese pitchers threw a] four-seamed fastball and a slider, sometimes a breaking ball like a curveball, and some guys would throw a change up. That’s kind of how everything was when I was a player, but as I started to manage, it was different. The players wanted to experiment with the split finger. They wanted to take their repertoire up a notch.  Kenta Maeda, Masahiro Tanaka, Hisashi Iwakuma, and Kuroda, I managed all those guys, were the top line pitchers in Japan, and they always wanted to experiment with new pitches. That was really never brought up back when I was playing. So, it was good to see how it evolved like that. I think it was good for them and a lot of those players were motivated to get to the States and play. All four of those guys did.

    Takahiro Arai was one of my favorite players in Hiroshima. The year before I managed, Arai had won a home run title. The first year I managed, Jeff Livesey was the head coach. Jeff had just showed up to spring camp at Nichinan, so we dressed up one of our interns in Arai’s uniform. He was really skinny, and Arai was a big guy. We got it all set up and I told Jeff, “This guy is the home run king, and he wants to take batting practice strictly for you because you’re going to be the hitting coach and you haven’t seen him hit.” Jeff saw the intern and he went, “Man, he’s not a real big guy, is he?” I just said, “No, no, he’s not that big.” The intern got in there and he swung at the first three pitches and missed them. He was slamming his bat and doing stuff that the Japanese players just wouldn’t do. He was great. He was a good actor. Finally, he popped one up and he pretended like it was going to be a home run but it didn’t get out of the infield. Jeff [was looking worried]. Finally, Arai came out and introduced himself, and then Jeff realized that the guys have tricked him. That was a really funny moment. We tried to lighten things up because Japanese don’t normally do stuff like that. We tried to have a lot of fun, but we worked really hard too.

    I named some co-captains the first year when I was manager. I named Tomonori Maeda and Hiroki Kuroda captains because they didn’t get along. Maeda didn’t really want to do any of that. Whereas Kuroda took charge, and he would say, “Hey, we need to do this” and would come into my office and talk to me about stuff. Those two guys really were good. Maeda and I were actually teammates when I played. He was an outstanding center fielder. He could play. When he was only 17 years old, 18 years old, he was a stud. He had all five tools. He could run, could throw, could hit, could hit for power. He was really a top tier player, but he didn’t say anything because he was a young player. He wouldn’t say anything out of the ordinary to ruffle any feathers back then. When he was young, he was an MLB caliber player. If he went over [to the States], he would have had to get adjusted, and that would be the only fear I would have had, that he couldn’t adjust to the American type of playing. He had to do things his own way and that didn’t fly in the United States back then like it does today. He could still play at times [when I managed him], but he couldn’t play in the field anymore. He got to the point where he was kind of just a pinch hitter. The Hiroshima people loved him. He was a mainstay there.

    Tomoaki Kanemoto was also a teammate of mine and then I managed against him. When Kanemoto became free agent after the 2002 season, the front office had to make a decision between resigning Maeda or Kanemoto. That was a difficult thing. The owner chose Maeda, whereas Kanemoto went on to be the next Cal Ripken with Hanshin. A lot of people really wanted to see Kanemoto stay. I would have loved to have had him on my team because he was a good friend of mine. He had tools and he was strong. You could see that he was going to be a good player.

    Having a small budget has always been a challenge for Hiroshima. I played for Kohei Matsuda, the father of the current owner, before he passed. He would go out and get a player if he thought a foreign player could help them win.  He wouldn’t care about spending money to get him. It whereas the ownership now is more constrained. So, I never had the opportunity to pick out an American player when I was the manager. You might think that was kind of weird. I had some good players, but we didn’t get that frontline American player that I thought would take us over the top.

    I never managed at the Major League level in the United States. I spent a lot of time in AAA and AAA is more of a development type situation. I always showed up every day to win but I never sacrificed development for winning. If we weren’t winning, I was not going to take the number one, two, or three prospect out of the game. I might give him a day off, but I was not going to take him out of the lineup. I think that’s just an understanding of everybody who is in development in the United States. That’s what they truly believe. Development was a big thing for me, and I knew we had to do that in Hiroshima as well. I just had to figure out a different way to do it. So it was different in that respect. I think the players did have a bit of a challenge, me being American and wanting to do things a little bit differently at times, but I didn’t do it all the time. I tried to make adjustments.

    For example, in Japan all of the teams take infield [practice] the same way. They never vary from that, and they take infield every day. Very seldom at the Major League level do teams take infield anymore. If guys want to get in some early work and take some ground balls, or maybe some fly balls if they are an outfielder, they’ll get those in before practice even starts. Even as a Minor League manager I didn’t have my guys take infield every day, but I had them do it often because they were developing. I tried to introduce American-style infield drills to the Carp. We an American style infield [drill] one day and then we would go back and do the Japanese style infield. They didn’t like the American infield. It wasn’t the same. But they could do it and never miss a ball. It was pretty amazing how they could do it, but they just liked it their way. I just finally gave up and said, “Yeah, let’s do it your way. You guys look clean with it.”

    When I started, the team was not in good working condition. They had walked over 500 people the year before I got there, and when you play in a little stadium, like Hiroshima, that makes things very difficult. You can’t walk that many. It leads to giving up three-run homers every other inning. That was their demise. But we got them back on track by making sure we pitched ahead in the count. We cut our walks down to just under 400. When our pitchers had a 2-2 or 3-2 count, they were always looking for a swing and a miss, but we really didn’t have strikeout type pitchers. We had contact type guys, but they didn’t really understand that. They thought they needed a swing and miss to not give up a hit, and that wasn’t the case. Working on that improved us tremendously during the first year when I started managing.

    I also wanted to get rid of the hogwash. Like we would practice for six hours a day, finish up, and guys would be dead tired, and somebody would tell them that they needed to go to the parking lot and keep swinging the bat for another hour. I thought that was a waste of time. Get your rest, get something good to eat, and get ready to work hard the next day. So, I started taking them to the pool and making them swing a bat in the pool after they got done with practice. Some guys liked that, some guys didn’t. The point was they were not getting anything out of sitting in the parking lot, smoking cigarettes and swinging a bat. That was not really what we needed. If you’re going to do something, do it with purpose. I think I brought some of that to the table. It wasn’t as though I was trying to change everything. I just didn’t understand how come there wasn’t any change. But when it came down to it, it was a Japanese team and I was an American manager so I would just try to introduce ideas.

    Some of the Japanese managers would do things that you would never see in the U.S. For example, one of the Dragons better hitters was a two-hole hitter. When he would get on base with one out, the Dragons manager Hiromitsu Ochiai would bunt his three-hole hitter and then let the four-hole hitter come up with two outs. I was like “Hell, yeah, that’s perfect for us!” With two outs all we had to do was get that guy out and the inning was over, or don’t pitch to him at all, and go for the next guy. [But my pitchers would insist on pitching to him] and that four-hole hitter would get a hit. It never failed. I would ask my pitchers, “Why are you doing that?”  It was almost like an unwritten rule that they couldn’t put him on and couldn’t pitch around him. They had to make him swing at their pitch and get him out. That was very discouraging to me. Ochiai just kept doing it. I was like, “God Dang it. What are you doing here?” It was so different.  

    The way they would line up defensively was also different from in the U.S. You would see a third baseman playing even with the bag, right next to the bag, and there would be nobody out with a leadoff hitter up or the seven or eight-hole hitter up. Why would you do that? [Well] they were actually looking for a ball to be hit off the end of the bat. They just wanted to cover everything. But you have got to give something up to get something. You want to double play ball? Then, you have to cheat and get to double-play depth. That’s just the way we treat the game over here. To them, it’s not an option. They were going to cover every possibility. If there was a swinging bunt, they were going to cover it.

    They would try to take away a double by staying on the line but that would leave a huge gap on the left side of the infield. I was like, “Guys were kind of kicking ourselves in the throat here. What are we doing?” A few little things like that I would change around, but it was very difficult to get them to understand it, especially the veteran players. They had a way to position that they were used to. They would want to play at a certain place on the field, and I’d be like, “Well, that doesn’t make sense. You’re giving up too much.” That was a little frustrating, but I got through it. It was not a big deal.

    Here’s one thing that I had never seen happen before [I went to Japan]. When I managed, there were some players who if they had a few bad outings or maybe they weren’t hitting really great would come into my office and say, “Hey, think I need to go down to the minor leagues for ten days and then I’ll come back.” They might not pick up a ball [down there] but when they came back, they were just kind of regrouped and refreshed and they went out and did what they used to do. That’s way different from what we do in the States. I never imagined that that would happen.

    My closer did that to me one time. He had already blown two saves, and he blew another lead, but we ended up coming back to win the game. He came into my office and said, “I think I need to go to the minor leagues.” And I said, “Do you want me to tell the media, or do you want to tell them? He said, “I’d rather you tell them.” So, he threw me under the bus. I told management about it, and they didn’t think anything about it. They were just fine with it. They said, “He’s not been very good. Maybe he needs a little rest.” So, I think it was probably normal for a Japanese player to do that if he’s had some failure. Can you imagine somebody doing that here? I was blown away.

    Overall, I got along great with the umpires in Japan, but we all have situations in which you get heated on the field and if you don’t then something’s wrong. [As a manager] you’ve got to show your team and your players that you are willing to fight for them and it’s us against them. And if they’re not going to make a proper call, then you have a right to say what you need to say. There was a particular umpire, I won’t mention his name, who had trouble seeing. He’d make a really bad call, and I’d ask him in so many words, “Are you ***ing blind!?” And he would look at me and, I almost felt sorry for him, say, “Yeah, I can’t see very well.”  I was like, what the hell? I’ve never had an umpire say that before!

    I would go to the umpiring group and ask them the rulings on something or what they saw in a certain situation. I got along with them fine. I would go over and talk to the guys who had thrown me out of games. It was no big deal. Japanese managers didn’t really do that. They would go out and bump them and hit them, and then they would stay in the game, whereas I would just talk to them and get thrown out. I think my interpreter got me into more trouble than what I really did. He would get fired up more than I would, and he’d say stuff and it looked like I was saying it, and I wasn’t really saying it!

    [Editor’s note: Marty became famous throughout Japan on May 7, 2006, for throwing first base during a dispute with the umpires].

    Well, I had an American pitcher, Mike Romano, on the mound and there was a close play at first base and the umpire called the runner safe. He was one of my favorite umpires over there. His name was Katsumi Manabe. I didn’t know if he was safe or not, it was a tough call. Manabe didn’t know English that well, and I think Mike said, “Well, that was a fucking horseshit call!” Well, Manabe thought that Mike was calling him that. It was just the third inning and Manabe threw my starter out of the game. I went out there, and I’m like, “Oh, God, I’ve got to waste some time here so we can get somebody warmed up enough to get them in the game.” So, I started arguing with the umpires, and as I was arguing with the umpires, I noticed they all had stopwatches. I didn’t know what the hell they had those stopwatches for. Anyway, I was talking, and I was getting heated up, but I still was going to have to waste some more time because we were not going to have anybody ready soon.

    Finally, the umps said, “That’s enough. You need to go back to the dugout.” I was like, “What?” And they said, “Yeah, your time is up. You can’t go over the amount of time to argue this call.” So, I was like, “Oh, you’re not going to throw me out after all the hell I put you through here?”  They just looked at me, and said, “You’re done.” And they started walking away. I had to figure out a way to waste more time, so I just picked up first base and threw it out into right field. All four of them threw me out at once! All four! That was the first time that had ever happened.

    The Carp’s owner made red T-shirts that said, “Danger! My manager throws bases.” He put that out there and they sold them as souvenirs. Pretty good marketing idea. That didn’t bother me any. What did bother me is that first time I got tossed, they finned me 1000 bucks. And the next time I got tossed, it was going to be 2000. My coaching staff thought it was great when I got tossed and the team really liked it. It showed some energy because none of the other Japanese managers really did that. I went to the coaching staff, and I said, “Listen, I can’t do this anymore.” So the coaching staff got together and they paid my fine. I thought that was pretty amazing. They didn’t say anything to the players. The coaches leaked it out that I didn’t feel that I could get tossed because management was not going to help pay the fines. Well, management ended up coming back and said, “If we feel that it’s a worthy cause and you can get tossed, we’ll pay your fine.”

    With the history of the city, and the bombing, the culture of Hiroshima is about rebuilding and fighting. “We’re not giving up!” I think that really stands out in Hiroshima and with the fans there. The fans make trips to Tokyo, and they have their own cheering section. They’re just great. If I had to compare them to a team in the States as far as fan base, I’d say the Cardinals. The reason I say that is the Cardinals do very little during the course of the winter to get better, but it always seems to work out because their fan base is behind them all the time and a lot of guys just need that little extra jump. So yeah, Hiroshima is just a special place. I think it’s more about the people there. I think the rebuilding of the team and putting the money back into the team now has really helped them as far as competing in the league. Hiroshima’s new stadium is off the wall great. It’s awesome. Nippon Ham’s new stadium is also really good. With Japan’s culture, loving baseball the way they do, making all these new stadiums and places for the fans to go has been pretty amazing.

    My time in Japan was a really enjoyable experience, both as a manager and as a player. I really did love it. Also, I met my wife there, so I brought the best part of Japan home with me!

     

    Read more Carp Tales on Rob’s blog

    https://www.robfitts.com/blog

  • Japan’s Favorite Players: No. 19, Yoshinobu Takahashi

    Japan’s Favorite Players: No. 19, Yoshinobu Takahashi

    He never dreamed of being a professional, but ended up giving it his all

    by Thomas Love Seagull

    A recent poll for a TV special saw more than 50,000 people in Japan vote for their favorite retired baseball players. 20 players emerged from a pool of 9,000. Yes, they could only vote for players who are no longer active, so you won’t see Shohei Ohtani or other current stars on this list. Which is probably smart because I’m sure Ohtani would win by default. There are, however, players who were beloved but not necessarily brilliant, and foreign stars who found success after coming to NPB. Unsurprisingly, the list leans heavily towards the past 30 years, with a few legends thrown in for good measure.

    Over the next few weeks, I’ll be profiling each of these players. Some of these players I know only a little about, so this will be as much a journey for me as, hopefully, it will be for you. It’ll be a mix of history, stats, and whatever interesting stories I can dig up.

    For now, have a look at the list below and see how the public ranked them. I’ve included the years they played in NPB in parentheses.

    20. Alex Ramirez (2001-2013); 19. Yoshinobu Takahashi (1998-2015); 18. Warren Cromartie (1984-1990), 17. Takahashi Toritani (2004-2021; 16. Suguru Egawa (1979-1987); 15. Katsuya Nomura (1954-1980); 14. Tatsunori Hara (1981-1995); 13. Kazuhiro Kiyohara (1985-2008); 12. Masayuki Kakefu (1974-1988); 11. Masumi Kuwata (1986-2006); 10. Atsuya Furuta (1990-2007); 9. Randy Bass (1983-1988); 8. Daisuke Matsuzaka (1999-2006, 2015-2016, 2018-2019, 2021); 7. Tsuyoshi Shinjo (1991-2000, 2004-2006); 6. Hiromitsu Ochiai (1979-1998); 5. Hideo Nomo (1990-1994); 4. Hideki Matsui (1993-2002); 3. Shigeo Nagashima (1958-1974); 2. Sadaharu Oh (1958-1980); 1. Ichiro Suzuki (1992-2000).

    No. 19: Yoshinobu Takahashi (1998-2015)

    Yoshinobu Takahashi never really wanted to be a baseball player.

    Even as a kid in Chiba—already stronger and more skilled than the boys around him—baseball felt like something he did well, not something that belonged to him. When asked what he wanted to be when he grew up, he might say “baseball player,” but without conviction. It felt like a hypothetical. He thought his parents felt the same way.

    He grew up the youngest of three brothers in a household where baseball was practiced daily. His father, who had played through high school, coached him relentlessly, yet tried to make sure baseball never crowded out education or life. He didn’t even have any idols when he was young. When Yoshinobu cried on the way to practice and declared he wanted to quit, his older brothers resorted to physical means to force him to go.

    He tried to quit more than once. He never succeeded.

    By middle school, Takahashi was dominant, pitching and hitting cleanup for a Pony League team that won national championships. Still, he believed baseball would end someday. His mother insisted he attend Toin Gakuen High School in Kanagawa as a boarding student. Takahashi resisted. His father resisted, too. 

    Years later, he would say that living away from home taught him independence and gratitude at the same time.

    At Toin Gakuen, Takahashi stood out immediately. He hoped to remain a pitcher. His coach watched him hit once and moved him into the lineup. He played in two Summer Koshien tournaments, became team captain, and finished his high school career with 30 home runs. His final summer ended in disappointment, without a Koshien appearance.

    If high school shaped his independence, Keio University shaped his worldview. He chose Keio not because it was a pipeline to professional baseball, but because of the Tokyo Big6 League and the desire to compete in the Waseda-Keio rivalry. 

    Takahashi enrolled in the law school, studying political science, and thrived in the Tokyo Big6 League. He won a Triple Crown, broke Koichi Tabuchi’s 30-year-old home run record*, and played every inning of every game for four years. Yet what he remembered most about Keio was not dominance, but diversity—older players, late starters, students who treated baseball as only one part of a larger life. Coaches respected individuality. Players were treated like adults.

    *Tabuchi was drafted by the Hanshin Tigers and was named Rookie of the Year in 1969.

    In 1997, before he played a professional game, Takahashi starred for Japan in the Intercontinental Cup. He hit .419, drove in 16 runs in nine games, played flawless right field, and helped Japan rout Cuba in the gold medal game by homering and driving in 5 runs, snapping a 151 game winning streak in international games for Cuba.

    Drafted by the Yomiuri Giants, he hit .300 as a rookie, won a Gold Glove (the first rookie outfielder to do so), and made the All-Star team. He finished second in Rookie of the Year voting*. In 1999, he delivered what might have been the best season of his career: .315, 34 home runs, 98 RBIs, elite defense, Best Nine honors. The season ended early when he broke his collarbone crashing into the outfield wall.

    *Kenshin Kawakami won the award by going 14-6 with a 2.57 ERA. I always thought he should have gotten more chances in MLB.

    At the time, it seemed dramatic. Later, it felt like foreshadowing.

    Takahashi played the outfield without caution. Diving catches, full-speed collisions, fearless throws, he did them all. He was told to stop diving. He understood the instruction, but he couldn’t follow it.

    The legendary Shigeo Nagashima had taught him that a professional’s duty was to move the hearts of the fans, that someone in the stands might be seeing him play for the only time in their life. Takahashi took that literally. “The moment I think I can catch it,” he once said, “my head goes blank.”

    The early 2000s were defined by excellence and accumulation: Gold Gloves, All-Star selections, steady power, international success with the national team. He starred in the 2001 Baseball World Cup, the 2003 Asian Championship, and the 2004 Olympics. He tied and set league records for consecutive hits and plate appearances reaching base. He helped the Giants win championships.

    After 2004, his career changed shape. Injuries arrived in spades: shoulder surgery, ankle surgery, back pain, broken ribs, muscle strains. From 2005 onward, Takahashi played more than 100 games in a season only three times. He moved across the outfield, then to first base, always adjusting, always in pain.

    In 2007, healthy again, he reinvented himself as a leadoff hitter and produced one of the finest seasons in the Central League: .308/.404/.579, 35 home runs, league-leading slugging, Gold Glove, Best Nine. He set an NPB record with 9 first-inning leadoff home runs. It was his last great, uninterrupted year.

    Late in his career, the Giants cut his salary by more than half—the largest reduction in team history to that point. Takahashi smiled and signed immediately. “Of course it went down,” he said. “They still want me.”

    That was enough.

    He played 17 seasons with the Giants, appeared in four Japan Series, won three of them, reached 300 home runs, and never once seemed concerned with whether the numbers told the whole story. Even back in college, his coach remarked that while he was very particular about the outcome of games, he didn’t seem to care at all when it came to his own records or awards.

    In 2014, his father died. The day after the funeral, Takahashi played and homered. He looked briefly toward the sky as he rounded the bases. That was all.

    At the end of the 2015 season, with his body finally finished, the Giants offered him their managerial job. He accepted. He would say that managing allowed him to see baseball in a new light.

    Takahashi never reached 2,000 hits. His body wouldn’t allow it. But he battled all the same. Even diminished, he reached base. Even injured, he delivered. He never stopped playing like someone might be seeing him for the first and only time.

    And that, more than any career numbers or award totals, is how he earned the love and admiration of fans across the country.

    Thomas Love Seagull’s work can be found on his Substack Baseball in Japan

    https://thomasloveseagull.substack.com

  • The 1953 Eddie Lopat All-Stars’ Tour of Japan

    The 1953 Eddie Lopat All-Stars’ Tour of Japan

    by C. Paul Rogers III

    Every Monday morning we will post an article from SABR’s award-winning books Nichibei Yakyu: Volumes I and II. Each will present a different chapter in the long history of US-Japan baseball relations. This week  C. Paul Rogers III tells us about the 1953 Major League All-Stars visit to Japan.

    Eddie Lopat was a fine, soft-tossing southpaw during a 12-year baseball career with the Chicago White Sox and most famously the New York Yankees. Called the Junkman because of his assortment of off-speed pitches, Lopat was also something of a baseball entrepreneur. He not only ran a winter baseball school in Florida, but, after barnstorming in Japan with Lefty O’Doul’s All-Stars following the 1951 major-league season, was very receptive to Frank Scott’s plan to put together a star-studded assemblage of major leaguers to again tour Japan after the 1953 season. Scott, a former traveling secretary of the Yankees who had since become a promoter, proposed calling the team the Eddie Lopat All-Stars. By 1953, after O’Doul’s 1949 breakthrough overseas trip to Japan with his San Francisco Seals of the Pacific Coast League, postseason tours to the Land of the Rising Sun had become more common. In fact, in 1953 the New York Giants also barnstormed in Japan at the same time as did Lopat’s team. For the Lopat tour, Scott secured the Mainichi Newspapers, owners of the Mainichi Orions of Japan’s Pacific League, as the official tour sponsor.

    Lopat and Scott spent much of the 1953 regular season recruiting players for the tour, including a somewhat reluctant Yogi Berra. Unbeknownst to Yogi, he was already a legend among Japanese baseball fans. At the All-Star Game in Cincinnati, a Japanese sportswriter who was helping Lopat and Scott with their recruiting was aware of Berra’s reputation as a chowhound and told Yogi about the exotic foods he would be able to consume in Japan. Yogi was skeptical, however, and wondered if bread was available in Japan. When the writer and Lopat both assured Yogi that Japan did indeed have bread, he signed on for the tour.

    Under the prevailing major-league rules, barnstorming “all-star teams” were limited to three players from any one team. With that constraint, a stellar lineup of major leaguers signed on for the tour including, in addition to Berra, future Hall of Famers Mickey Mantle, Robin Roberts, Eddie Mathews, Bob Lemon, Nellie Fox, and Enos Slaughter. All-Star-caliber players like Eddie Robinson, Curt Simmons, Mike Garcia, Harvey Kuenn (the 1953 American League Rookie of the Year), Jackie Jensen, and Hank Sauer committed as well, as did Gus Niarhos, who was added to serve as a second catcher behind Berra. Whether a slight exaggeration or not, they were billed as “the greatest array of major league stars ever to visit Japan.”

    Lopat and his Yankees teammates Mantle and Berra were fresh off a tense six-game World Series win over the Brooklyn Dodgers in which all had played pivotal roles. Lopat had won Game Two thanks to a two-run eighth-inning homer by Mantle, while Berra had batted .429 for the Series. A casualty to the tour because of the long season and World Series, however, was the 21-year-old Mantle, who, after battling injuries to both knees during the year, needed surgery and was a late scratch. Lopat quickly added Yankees teammate Billy Martin, who had hit .500 with 12 hits and eight runs batted in in the Series to win the Baseball Writers’ MVP Award.

    The Lopat All-Stars were to first play four exhibition games in Colorado and began gathering at the famous Broadmoor Hotel in Colorado Springs on October 6. Baseball had a no-fraternizing rule then and many of the players looked forward to getting to know ballplayers from other teams and from the other league. The Phillies’ Robin Roberts, who was known for his great control on the mound, remembered spotting fellow hurler Bob Lemon of the Cleveland Indians in the bar at the Broadmoor and going over to introduce himself. Lemon asked Roberts what he wanted to drink and Roberts said, “I’ll have a 7-Up.”

    Lemon didn’t say anything but pulled out a pack of cigarettes and offered Roberts one. Roberts said, “No, thanks, I don’t smoke.”

    Lemon chuckled and said, “No wonder you don’t walk anyone.”

    The Lopat team’s opposition in Colorado was a squad of major leaguers put together by White Sox manager Paul Richards and highlighted by pitchers Billy Pierce and Mel Parnell, infielders Pete Runnels and Randy Jackson, and outfielders Dave Philley and Dale Mitchell.

    The big-league sluggers quickly took to the rarefied Colorado air as the teams combined for nine home runs in the first contest, a 13-8 victory for the Lopat All-Stars over the Richards group on October 8 in Pueblo. The 21-year-old Mathews, coming off a gargantuan 47-homer, 135-RBI season with the Braves, slugged two circuit shots (including one that traveled 500 feet), as did the Cubs’ 36-year-old Hank Sauer, the Cardinals’ 37-year-old Enos Slaughter, and, for the Richards team, Detroit catcher Matt Batts. Two days later, the Lopats blasted the Richards team 18-7 in Colorado Springs before the four-game series shifted to Bears Stadium in Denver for the final two contests. The results were the same, however, as the Lopat team won in the Mile-High City 8-4 and 14-8, the latter before a record crowd of 13,852, as fourtime American League All-Star Eddie Robinson of the Philadelphia A’s and Mathews both homered off Billy Pierce and drove in four runs apiece.

    Mathews went 7-for-8 in the two Denver contests and posted Little League-like numbers for the whole Colorado series, driving in 17 runs in the four games, while the veteran Slaughter had 12 hits, including two homers, two triples, and three doubles.

    The Lopat All-Stars then flew to Honolulu for more exhibition games after a brief stopover in San Francisco. On October 12 and 13 they played a pair of games in Honolulu against a local team called the Rural Red Sox and it did not take long for disaster to strike. In the first inning of the first game before a jammed-in crowd of 10,500, Mike Garcia of the Indians was struck in the ankle by a line drive after delivering a pitch. Garcia, who had won 20, 22, and 18 games the previous three seasons, was unable to push off from the mound after the injury and had to leave the game. Although Garcia stayed with the team for most of the tour, he was able to pitch only sparingly in Japan.

    Despite the loss of Garcia, the major leaguers clobbered the locals 10-2 and 15-0. After the second game, first baseman Robinson, who had homered in the rout, was stricken with a kidney-stone attack and was briefly hospitalized. He quickly recovered and resumed the tour for the All-Stars, who had brought along only 11 position players.

    On October 14 the Lopat squad flew to Kauai, where they pounded out 22 hits and defeated the Kauai All-Stars, 12-3, on a makeshift diamond fashioned from a football field. World Series MVP Martin was honored before the game and given a number of gifts, including an aloha shirt and a calabash bowl. He celebrated by smashing a long home run in his first time at bat and later adding a double and a single. The homer sailed through goalposts situated beyond left field, leading Robin Roberts to quip that it should have counted for three runs.

    The big leaguers next flew to Hilo on the Big Island, where on October 17, 5,000 saw them defeat a local all-star-team, 8-3, in a game benefiting the local Little League. But much more serious opposition awaited them back in Honolulu in the form of a three- game series against the Roy Campanella All-Stars, a team of African American major leaguers headed by Campanella, the reigning National League MVP, and including stellar players like Larry Doby, Don Newcombe, Billy Bruton, Joe Black, Junior Gilliam, George Crowe, Harry “Suitcase” Simpson, Bob Boyd, Dave Hoskins, Connie Johnson, and Jim Pendleton.

    The Lopats won the first game, 7-1, on the afternoon of October 18 over an obviously weary Campanella team that had flown in from Atlanta the previous day, with a plane change in Los Angeles. Jackie Jensen, then with the Washington Senators, was the hitting star with two home runs, while the Phillies’ Curt Simmons allowed only a single run in eight innings of mound work. By the next night, Campy’s squad was in much better shape and defeated the Lopat team 4-3 in 10 innings behind Joe Black.

    Roberts pitched the first nine innings for the Lopats with Yogi Berra behind the plate. In one at-bat, Campanella hit a towering foul ball behind the plate. Campy actually knocked the glove off Yogi’s hand on the follow-through of his swing. Berra looked down at his glove on the ground and then went back and caught the foul ball barehanded.

    Roberts picked up Yogi’s glove and handed it to him, asking him if he was okay. Yogi said, “That friggin’ ball hurt like hell.”

    Over the years Roberts wondered if he had somehow made that story up, since he never again saw a bat knock the glove off a catcher’s hand. Over 30 years later, he saw Berra at an Old-Timers game in Wrigley Field in Chicago and asked him about it. Yogi said, “That friggin’ ball hurt like hell,” the exact thing he had said in 1953.

    On October 20 Campanella’s squad won the rubber game, 7-1, behind the three-hit pitching of Don Newcombe. Nellie Fox displayed rare power by homering for the Lopats’ only run, while George Crowe hit two homers and Junior Gilliam one for the Campanellas.

    The Lopat team stayed at the famous Royal Hawaiian Hotel on Waikiki Beach and had such a great time in Hawaii that many didn’t want to leave. Many of the players had brought their wives but some like Eddie Mathews, Billy Martin, and Eddie Robinson were single and so enjoyed the Honolulu nightlife. Not surprisingly given his before and after history, Martin got into a dispute with a guard at a performance of hula dancers attended by the entire team and sucker-punched him. Fortunately for Martin, no charges appear to have been brought.

    The Lopat squad did have a schedule to keep and flew on a Pan American Stratocruiser to Tokyo’s Haneda Airport, arriving at 1:05 P.M. on October 22. They could scarcely have anticipated the frenzied reception they received. Although the New York Giants had been in the country for a week and had played five games, thousands of Japanese greeted the plane. After being officially greeted by executives from the trip sponsor, Mainichi, and receiving gifts from beautiful young Japanese women, the ballplayers climbed into convertibles, one player per car, to travel to the Nikkatsu Hotel, which would be their headquarters. The trip, which would normally take about 30 minutes, took almost three hours because of the throngs of fans lining the route and pressing against the cars as Japanese mounted and foot police were overwhelmed. Eddie Mathews likened it to the pope in a motorcade without police or security while it reminded Robin Roberts of a ticker-tape parade in New York City.

    That evening the Americans were guests at a gigantic pep rally in their honor at the Nichigeki Theater, where Hawaiian-born Japanese crooner Katsuhiko Haida introduced each player. American Ambassador John M. Allison also hosted a reception at the US Embassy for both the Lopats and the New York Giants, who had just returned to Tokyo from Sendai.

    Eddie Lopat All-Stars vs. Mainichi Orions, October 23, 1953 (Rob Fitts Collection

    The Lopat squad’s first game was the following afternoon, October 23, against the Mainichi Orions in Korakuen Stadium before 27,000. The Orions, who had finished fifth out of seven teams in Japan’s Pacific League, had the honor of playing the initial game due to its ownership by the Mainichi newspapers. Jackie Jensen won a home-run-hitting contest before the game by smacking six out of the yard, followed by Futoshi Nakanishi of the Nishitetsu Lions with three and then Berra, Mathews, and Hank Sauer with two each. Bobby Brown, stationed in Tokyo as a US Army doctor, was seen visiting in the dugout with his Yankee teammates Lopat, Berra, and Martin before the contest.

    The US and Japanese Army bands played after the home-run-hitting contest, followed by helicopters dropping bouquets of flowers to both managers. Another helicopter hovered low over the field and dropped the first ball but stirred up so much dust from the all-dirt infield that the start of the game was delayed.

    The game finally began with Curt Simmons on the mound for the Americans against southpaw Atsushi Aramaki. The visitors plated a run in the top of the second on a single by Sauer, a double by Robinson, and an error, but the Orions immediately rallied for three runs in the bottom half on three bunt singles and Kazuhiro Yamauchi’s double. The Orions led 4-1 heading into the top of the ninth but the Lopats staged a thrilling rally to tie the score behind a walk to Mathews, a two-run homer by Sauer, and Robinson’s game-tying circuit clout.

    Garcia, who had relieved Simmons in the seventh inning, was still pitching in the 10th but after allowing a single, reaggravated the leg injury suffered in Hawaii. He was forced to leave the game with the count of 1 and 1 against the Orions’ Charlie Hood, who was a minor-league player in the Phillies organization. (Hood was in the military stationed in Japan and had played 25 games for Mainichi during the season.) When Garcia had to depart, Lopat asked for volunteers to pitch. Roberts, sitting in the dugout, said he would and went out to the mound to warm up.

    During the game Roberts had told Bob Lemon next to him that he was familiar with Hood from Phillies spring training and that he was a really good low-ball hitter. Then, on his first pitch, Roberts threw Hood a low fastball which he ripped down the right-field line for a game-winning double. Lemon ribbed Roberts for the rest of the trip about his throwing a low fastball to a low-fastball hitter. In one of baseball’s little coincidences, Roberts and Lemon would both be elected to the Hall of Fame on the same day in 1976, 23 years later.

    The Lopat squad’s loss in the opener was only the third ever suffered by an American team of major leaguers in a postseason tour of Japan. The All-Stars were certainly embarrassed by losing to a mediocre team and afterward Roberts told the Japanese press, “Look, it’s a goodwill trip and so this was some of our goodwill. You won the first game, but you won’t win anymore.”

    Continue to read the full article on the SABR website

    The 1953 Eddie Lopat All-Stars’ Tour of Japan
  • From Dongdaemun Alleyways to the KBO Official Ball: The Present of Korean Baseball Brands

    From Dongdaemun Alleyways to the KBO Official Ball: The Present of Korean Baseball Brands

    by Tae-in Chun

    Dongdaemun, the Beginning of Korean Baseball Brands
    The roots of Korea’s baseball equipment industry began in the alleyways surrounding Dongdaemun Stadium in Seoul. In the early 1970s, sporting goods shops that had been scattered throughout Jongno and Euljiro gradually gathered around the stadium, naturally forming a commercial district. Here, every task needed for baseball was carried out, from glove repair and production to bat processing and uniform embroidery and number patching. In an era when overseas brands were difficult to access, what mattered most to players was not the brand name, but which shop’s craftsman had made the equipment. Dongdaemun was not only a famous shopping district, but also the heart of Korean baseball equipment manufacturing.

    Streets and shops around Dongdaemun Stadium, once the center of Korea’s baseball equipment industry

    Although Dongdaemun Stadium was demolished in a redevelopment project in 2009, its culture did not disappear. Merchants spread out to large commercial complexes such as the 16-story Good Morning City, Jamsil Sports Mall, and areas around Euljiro. Even today, through this network, many amateur baseball teams, youth clubs, and women’s baseball teams continue to produce uniforms and team equipment. Only the location has changed. Dongdaemun still functions as the practical center of Korea’s baseball equipment industry.

    The Origins of Handmade Gloves: Gimhae Industrial Company and JOE LEE
    The point at which glove manufacturing in Korea took shape as an industry dates back to 1967 in Eomgung-dong, Busan. Gimhae Industrial Company, founded by the late Gwang-jo Lee, was Korea’s first specialized baseball glove factory. Every process was done by hand. From leather cutting to stitching, steam molding, and final lacing, skilled workers participated in each stage through a division of labor.

    A JOE LEE glove used for practice by Hyun-jin Ryu during his time with the Los Angeles Dodgers

    Despite passing through multiple crises, including the IMF financial crisis, competition from low-priced Chinese products, and the recent pandemic, Gimhae Industrial Company’s production system has been maintained. In 1991, the premium brand JOE LEE was launched, inheriting the philosophy of Gwang-jo Lee. It continued a production approach focused on craftsmanship rather than mass production, and its performance was proven in actual play by professional players including Hyun-jin Ryu. JOE LEE remains a symbol of domestically made gloves crafted by artisans. It is a case that shows the Korean baseball equipment industry has accumulated real manufacturing expertise beyond simple distribution.

    The Growth of Korea’s First Brand, BMC
    The representative Korean domestic brand is undoubtedly BMC. It began in 1969 by producing player gloves under the name “Giant,” and was reorganized under its current brand name following the launch of the KBO in 1982. It then rapidly gained popularity by combining professional player sponsorships with distribution network expansion. In bromide photos from the 1990s and 2000s, most players wore BMC gloves, and it was also the most commonly encountered brand in the Dongdaemun commercial district.

    BMC gloves long favored by famous Korean baseball players such as Park Chan Ho Park and Byung-hyun Kim

    From the late 2000s, BMC expanded its direction toward a premium strategy. To pursue high-end positioning, new products of the highest quality were required. Through this process, the Alkan and Royalty series were created. These series use Seto and Terada line leathers processed by Maruhashi in Japan, materials also used in top-tier Mizuno models. When Japanese brands productize gloves with the same materials, they are priced very high, but BMC maintained domestic production systems and kept prices relatively reasonable. As a result, it earned a reputation in the field as a “high-quality glove with strong value for money.”

    A BMC glove actually used by Jung-ho Kang in MLB

    Trust Built Alongside the League
    BMC has long been active as an officially certified KBO brand. It has consistently supplied official game balls, umpire equipment, and team goods, growing alongside the league on the field. In the 2025 season as well, it continues to handle production of official game balls and the supply of umpire equipment. By releasing collaborative products with teams and the league, such as team-character snapback caps, it is also expanding its points of contact with fans.

    A collaborative cap created by popular baseball cartoonist Hoon Choi and BMC

    By steadily building brand self-reliance, BMC has established a position that is not easily replaceable on both the distribution and manufacturing sides. Within this flow, brand operations are currently centered on Fusion Sports Korea (FSK). Multiple baseball brands such as Kang’s Studio, Diamond, and Morimoto are managed together, forming a relatively stable supply structure that spans equipment production to distribution. A brand that began in the alleyways of Dongdaemun has grown to a position where it supplies standard equipment used in the league.

    At present, the Korean baseball equipment market includes a range of brands centered around BMC, including SPS, Incojava, Fandom Korea, and Atoms and Altis, each building its own domain. SPS has expanded overseas distribution through entry into the Japanese market. Incojava operates high-end lines using Japanese Seto leather and American Texas steerhide, and also handles OEM production for Louisville Slugger and Easton. Fandom Korea has earned a dedicated following with its North Skip leather models, while Atoms and Altis are targeting the premium market based on Japanese manufacturing technology.

    Behind this growth are advancements in production processes such as the adoption of Maruhashi leather, hydraulic vacuum processing, uniform stitching, and steam molding. Korean brands no longer remain as inexpensive alternatives. From producing official league equipment to engaging in global OEM collaborations, the manufacturing culture that began in the alleyways of Dongdaemun continues quietly today.

  • Japan’s Favorite Former Ballplayers: #20 Alex Ramirez

    Japan’s Favorite Former Ballplayers: #20 Alex Ramirez

    How 50,000 fans ranked Japan’s most beloved retired stars

    by Thomas Love Seagull

    A recent poll for a TV special saw more than 50,000 people in Japan vote for their favorite retired baseball players. 20 players emerged from a pool of 9,000. Yes, they could only vote for players who are no longer active, so you won’t see Shohei Ohtani or other current stars on this list. Which is probably smart because I’m sure Ohtani would win by default. There are, however, players who were beloved but not necessarily brilliant, and foreign stars who found success after coming to NPB. Unsurprisingly, the list leans heavily towards the past 30 years, with a few legends thrown in for good measure.

    Over the next few weeks, I’ll be profiling each of these players. Some of these players I know only a little about, so this will be as much a journey for me as, hopefully, it will be for you. It’ll be a mix of history, stats, and whatever interesting stories I can dig up.

    For now, have a look at the list below and see how the public ranked them. I’ve included the years they played in NPB in parentheses.

    20. Alex Ramirez (2001-2013); 19. Yoshinobu Takahashi (1998-2015); 18. Warren Cromartie (1984-1990), 17. Takahashi Toritani (2004-2021; 16. Suguru Egawa (1979-1987); 15. Katsuya Nomura (1954-1980); 14. Tatsunori Hara (1981-1995); 13. Kazuhiro Kiyohara (1985-2008); 12. Masayuki Kakefu (1974-1988); 11. Masumi Kuwata (1986-2006); 10. Atsuya Furuta (1990-2007); 9. Randy Bass (1983-1988); 8. Daisuke Matsuzaka (1999-2006, 2015-2016, 2018-2019, 2021); 7. Tsuyoshi Shinjo (1991-2000, 2004-2006); 6. Hiromitsu Ochiai (1979-1998); 5. Hideo Nomo (1990-1994); 4. Hideki Matsui (1993-2002); 3. Shigeo Nagashima (1958-1974); 2. Sadaharu Oh (1958-1980); 1. Ichiro Suzuki (1992-2000).

    No. 20: Alex Ramirez

    The only foreign player to record 2,000 hits in NPB



    Charlie Manuel used to tell him stories.

    That’s how this whole thing begins—not with a contract or a scout or a dream, but with the manager of the Cleveland Indians, a man with a thick country accent and a Yakult Swallows heart, leaning against a batting cage and talking about Japan.

    Manuel was one of the few Americans who had thrived in NPB. He won the Japan Series as a member of the Swallows in 1978. He signed with the Kintetsu Buffaloes and took home the Pacific League MVP in 1979. His nickname in Japan? The Red Demon. He knew the language of the league, the rhythm of its days, the fierce courtesy, the relentless work, the joy buried under the discipline.

    Alex Ramirez listened because he respected Manuel.

    But he did not yet understand him.

    “Charlie told me baseball equals Japanese culture,” Ramirez recalled years later. “Back then, I didn’t understand how baseball and culture could be linked. Now I understand it completely.”

    At the time, it had sounded like one of those mysterious lines you hear from someone wiser than you. It was meaningful, but maybe only in retrospect.

    Besides, the other players Ramirez talked to painted very different pictures of Japan.

    Most had struggled.

    Most had returned home with bad stories and worse statistics.

    Their message was: Good luck. You won’t last.

    Manuel’s message was: If you open yourself to Japan, Japan will open itself to you.

    And Ramirez, wonderfully and stubbornly, did not believe either one completely.

    He prepared for his trip to Japan the way any sensible ballplayer would: he watched Mr. Baseball a dozen or so times.

    In the movie, translators famously shrink long speeches into short summaries, sometimes to comedic effect. Ramirez took this as documentary realism.

    “I thought the interpreters were going to lie to me,” he said. “Like in the movie, the player talks for a minute, and the translator says two words.”

    So when he arrived in Tokyo in 2001, he was prepared for deception, confusion, and culture clash.

    He was not prepared for loneliness.

    “The players would talk to me,” he said, “but I couldn’t understand. And I couldn’t say what I wanted to say. It became pressure.”

    The language barrier hit harder than the pitching. And the pitching, with its forkballs and cutters and relentless precision, hit pretty hard.

    In the clubhouse, the food consisted of onigiri and ramen. He felt there was nothing to eat.

    For a while, Japan felt like a puzzle whose pieces didn’t quite fit together. 

    But fortunately, there was Tsutomu Wakamatsu.

    Wakamatsu, the Yakult manager, had a way of making the world slow down. He did not try to turn Ramirez into a Japanese hitter. He simply gave him space and structure and trust.

    Wakamatsu, of course, is a Yakult legend. His nickname is Mr. Swallows and his uniform number, 1, is honored* by the team.

    “If I hadn’t started with Wakamatsu,” Ramirez said, “I wouldn’t be in the Hall of Fame today.”

    And slowly, day by day, Ramirez began to see what Manuel had meant.

    The long practices were not punishment, they were pride.

    The silence wasn’t coldness, it was concentration.

    The discipline wasn’t rigidity, it was devotion.

    Baseball wasn’t separate from life.

    It was woven into the fabric of everything.

    Once he understood that, he didn’t just adjust: he blossomed.

    What happened next is one of the most beautiful second acts in baseball history.

    Eight All-Star selections.

    Four Best Nine awards.

    Four RBI titles.

    A batting title.

    Two home-run crowns.

    Two MVP awards.

    Two Japan Series championships, with two different teams.

    He hit .301 over thirteen seasons.

    He averaged 29 homers a year.

    He collected 2,000 hits, the first foreign player ever to do so.

    And the fans called him “Rami-chan.”

    The affectionate “chan,” the nickname given to children, pets, and beloved personalities.

    He had come to Japan expecting to “teach the game.”

    Japan had ended up teaching him something far larger, that baseball equals Japanese culture.

    In 2019, Ramirez became a Japanese citizen. He had absorbed it, and became a part of it.

    He was voted into the Japanese baseball Hall of Fame, along with Randy Bass, in 2023. 

    On induction day, he stepped to the microphone and did something that explained everything.

    He thanked his interpreters and assistants.

    He said their names. All of them.

    He honored the people who had helped him find his way in Japan.

    Charlie Manuel had been right: baseball and culture were inseparable.

    Thomas Love Seagull’s work can be found on his Substack Baseball in Japan

    https://thomasloveseagull.substack.com

  • The Cold War, a Red Scare, and the New York Giants’ Historic Tour of Japan in 1953

    The Cold War, a Red Scare, and the New York Giants’ Historic Tour of Japan in 1953

    by Steven Wisensale

    We have moved the Nichibei Yakyu series to Mondays to make room for a new series of articles by Thomas Love Seagull debuting this Wednesday, January 14.

    Every Monday morning we will post an article from SABR’s award-winning books Nichibei Yakyu: Volumes I and II. Each will present a different chapter in the long history of US-Japan baseball relations. This week Steven Wisensale tells us about the New York Giants trip toJapan in 1953.


    On the morning of June 29, 1953, readers of the Globe Gazette in Mason City, Iowa, were greeted by a headline on page 13: “New York Giants Invited to Tour Japan This Fall.”

    The Associated Press in Tokyo reported that Shoji Yasuda, president of the Yomiuri Shimbun, had formally invited Horace Stoneham, owner of the New York Giants, to bring his team to Japan for a goodwill tour after the season. The tour was to commemorate the 100th anniversary of Commodore Matthew Perry’s arrival in Japan in 1853, when he forced the isolated nation’s ports to open to the world.

    An excited Stoneham quickly sought and was given approval for the trip from the US State Department, the Defense Department, and the US Embassy in Tokyo. The tour was also endorsed by Baseball Commissioner Ford Frick. However, two hurdles remained for Stoneham: He needed his fellow owners to suspend the rule that prohibited more than three members of a major-league team from playing in postseason exhibition games. And at least 15 Giants on the major-league roster had to vote yes for the tour.

    With respect to the first hurdle, previous postseason tours had consisted primarily of major-league allstars, not complete teams. The 1953 Giants, however, became trailblazers as the first squad to tour Japan as a complete major-league team. The second rule was a requirement set forth by the Japanese sponsors of the tour. They wanted their Japanese players to compete against top-quality major leaguers.

    WAIVER IS GRANTED

    The waiver Stoneham sought was granted by team owners on July 12 when they gathered in Cincinnati for the All-Star Game “We will now proceed with our plans for the goodwill tour,” said an upbeat Stoneham.

    Another person who was extremely happy with the owners’ decision to support the Giants’ tour of Japan was Tsuneo “Cappy” Harada. Harada was a US Army officer serving with the American occupation force in postwar Japan and an adviser to the Yomiuri Giants. One of his tasks was to restore morale among the Japanese people through sports, particularly baseball. It was Harada who suggested to General Douglas MacArthur that the San Francisco Seals be invited to Japan for a goodwill tour in 1949. Working closely with Lefty O’Doul, Harada coordinated the tour, which MacArthur later declared was “the greatest piece of diplomacy ever,” adding, “all the diplomats put together would not have been able to do this.” O’Doul would play a central role in 1953 by assisting Harada in coordinating the Giants’ tour.

    After the owners granted approval, Harada flew to Honolulu, where he met with city officials and baseball executives to share the news that Hawaii would host two exhibition games during the team’s layover on their journey to Japan.

    At a press conference on July 18 in Honolulu, Harada explained why the Giants were chosen for the tour: They were the oldest team in major-league baseball, and they had Black players. A Honolulu sports- writer observed: “The presence of colored stars on the team will help show the people of Japan democracy at work and point out to them that all the people in the United States are treated equally.”

    Harada’s statement was not exactly accurate. First, while the Giants were one of the oldest professional teams, they were not the oldest. Five other teams preceded them: the Braves, Cubs, Cardinals, Pirates, and Reds. And Harada’s statements regarding racial diversity and “equality for all” were misleading. By the end of the 1953 season only eight of the 16 major-league clubs were integrated. Jim Crow laws were firmly in place in at least 17 states and the Supreme Court’s decision in Brown v. Board of Education, which ended segregated schooling, was a year away. However, Harada was correct in emphasizing the visual impact an integrated baseball team on the field could have on fans, and society as a whole, as Jackie Robinson taught America in 1947.

    The Giants also were selected because of Harada’s close relationship with Lefty O’Doul and O’Doul’s strong connection to Horace Stoneham, which began in 1928 when Lefty played for the Giants. At one point Stoneham even considered hiring O’Doul as his manager. Harada, who was bilingual, lived in Santa Maria, California, where, in the spring of 1953, he arranged for the Yomiuri Giants to hold their spring-training camp. Working closely together, Harada and O’Doul (with Stoneham’s approval) scheduled an exhibition game in Santa Maria between the New York Giants and their Tokyo namesake. O’Doul introduced Harada to Stoneham, and the seeds for the Japan tour were planted.

    A CLUBHOUSE VOTE

    The one remaining hurdle was a positive vote by at least 15 Giants. Prior to voting, they were told that the tour would take place from mid-October to mid-November. They would play two games in Hawaii on their way to Japan, 14 games in Japan, and a few games in Okinawa, the Philippines, and Guam before returning home. They understood that all expenses would be covered by the Japanese, and they should expect to make about $3,000, depending on paid attendance at the games. On July 25, when the Giants lost, 7-5, to the Cincinnati Reds on a Saturday afternoon before 8,454 fans at the Polo Grounds, the team voted 18 to 7 to go to Japan.

    Two players who voted yes were Sal Maglie and Hoyt Wilhelm. Several weeks later Maglie backed out, citing his ailing back, which needed to heal during the offseason. Ronnie Samford, an infielder and the only minor leaguer to make the trip, replaced Maglie. Hoyt Wilhelm faced a dilemma: His wife was pregnant. But his brother was serving in Korea. He chose to make the trip when he learned he could visit his brother during the tour.

    Only two players’ wives opted to make the trip and at least one dropped out prior to departure. One obvious absentee was the Giants’ sensational center fielder who was the Rookie of the Year in 1951: Willie Mays. Serving in an Army transport unit in Virginia, he would not be discharged until after the tour ended, but in time for Opening Day in 1954.

    Players who voted no provided a variety of reasons for their decisions. Alvin Dark and Whitey Lockman cited business commitments made before the invitation arrived; Rubén Gómez was committed to playing another season of winter ball in his native Puerto Rico; Bobby Thomson’s wife was pregnant; Larry Jansen preferred to stay home with his large family in Oregon; and Dave Koslo wanted to rest his aging arm. Tookie Gilbert also voted no but offered no reason for his decision.

    Nonplayers in the traveling party included owner Stoneham and his son, Peter; manager Leo Durocher and his wife, Hollywood actress Laraine Day; Commissioner Frick and his wife; Mr. and Mrs. Lefty O’Doul; equipment manager Eddie Logan; publicist Billy Goodrich; team secretary Eddie Brannick and his wife; and coach Fred Fitzsimmons and his wife. Also making the trip was National League umpire Larry Goetz, who was appointed by National League President Warren Giles and Commissioner Frick.

    The traveling party’s itinerary was straightforward. Most members left New York on October 8 and, after meeting the rest of the group in San Francisco, flew to Hawaii on October 9 and played two exhibition games. They left Honolulu on October 12 and arrived in Tokyo on October 14. After completing their 14-game schedule against Japanese teams, they left Tokyo on November 10 for Okinawa, the Philippines, and Guam before returning to the United States.

    Another team of major leaguers was touring Japan at the same time. Eddie Lopat’s All-Stars, including future Hall of Famers Yogi Berra, Enos Slaughter, Eddie Mathews, Nellie Fox, Robin Roberts, and Bob Lemon, and recent World Series hero Billy Martin, were sponsored by the Mainichinewspaper, one of Yomiuri Shimbun’s major competitors. Lopat’s team won 11 of 12 games and earned more money than the New York Giants.

    THE TOUR IN HISTORICAL CONTEXT

    When Dwight D. Eisenhower assumed the US presidency on January 20, 1953, he inherited a Cold War abroad that was intertwined with the nation’s second Red Scare at home. The Soviet Union engulfed Eastern Europe with what Winston Churchill referred to as an iron curtain; and China, which witnessed a Communist revolution in 1949, became a major threat in Asia. On June 25, 1950, nearly 100,000 North Korean troops invaded US-backed South Korea, commencing the Korean War, which lasted until 1953.

    The invasion had a major impact on Japan-US relations. In particular, the United States had to reevaluate how to address the rise of communism in Asia as well as quell the growing opposition to US military bases in Japan. On September 8, 1951, representatives of both countries met in San Francisco to sign the Treaty of Peace that officially ended World War II and the seven-year Allied occupation of Japan, which would take effect in the spring of 1952. Japan would be a sovereign nation again, but the United States would still maintain military bases there for security reasons that would benefit both countries. In short, “it was during the Korean War that US-Japan relations changed dramatically from occupation status to one of a security partnership in Asia,” opined an American journalist. And such an arrangement needed to be nurtured by soft-power diplomacy in the form of educational exchanges, visits by entertainers, and tours by major-league baseball clubs. In 1953 the New York Giants served as exemplars of soft power under the new partnership between the United States and Japan.

    A CELEBRATORY ARRIVAL AND A SUCCESSFUL TOUR

    The Giants easily won their two games in Hawaii. The first was a 7-2 win against a team of service allstars, and the second was a 10-1 victory over the Rural Red Sox, the Hawaii League champions in 1953. Also present in Honolulu was Cappy Harada, who talked of his dream of seeing a “real World Series” between the US and Japanese champions, while emphasizing that the quality of Japanese baseball was getting closer to the level of play of American teams. He noted that the Yomiuri Giants and the New York Giants had split two games during spring training. “We beat the Americans in California and they beat us in Arizona,” he said. Then, almost in the form of a warning to the traveling party that was about to depart for Japan, Harada reminded reporters that Yomiuri was a powerhouse, having led its league by 16 games.

    When the Pan American Stratocruiser carrying the Giants landed at Tokyo’s Haneda International Airport at 1:00 P.M. on October 14, it was swarmed by Japanese officials, reporters, photographers, and fans. Consequently, the traveling party could not move off the tarmac for more than an hour before boarding cars for a motorcade that wound its way through Tokyo streets lined with thousands of cheering fans waving flags, hoping to get a glimpse of the American ballplayers.

    That evening in the lobby of the Imperial Hotel, Leo Durocher boldly stated that he expected his Giants to win every game on the tour. He also expected a home-run barrage by his club because the Japanese ballparks were so small. “We shouldn’t drop a game to any of these teams while we’re over here,” he boasted. Perhaps realizing that his comment was not the most diplomatic way to open the tour, Durocher quickly put a positive spin on his view of the Yomiuri Giants in particular. “They are the best-looking Japanese ball team I’ve seen,” he said. “They showed a great deal of improvement during their spring workouts in the States.”  Yomiuri would win their third straight Japanese championship two days later.

    Over the next two days, the visiting Giants attended a large welcoming luncheon, participated in a motorcade parade through Tokyo, and held workouts at Korakuen Stadium. “Giants Drill, Leo’s Antics Delight Fans” read a headline in Pacific Stars and Stripes on October 16, the day before the series opened. Each day Durocher and several of his players conducted a one-hour clinic on the “fundamentals of American baseball.” A photo captured the Giants demonstrating a rundown play between third base and home.

    Before the Giants’ arrival, the US Armed Forces newspaper Stars and Stripes published a two-page spread profiling the players on both teams.  For the Japanese people, a Fan’s Guide was distributed widely. Gracing the cover was a color photograph of Leo Durocher with his arm around Yomiuri Giants manager Shigeru Mizuhara, a World War II veteran who had spent five years in a Soviet prison. Inside the guide were ads linked to baseball and numerous photos and profiles of players from both the New York Giants and Eddie Lopat’s All-Stars. Near the back of the guide, however, was an error: a photo of Mickey Mantle. Mantle had backed out of the trip with Eddie Lopat to undergo knee surgery in Missouri.

    THE GAMES

    The team’s 14-game schedule was broken down into five games with the Yomiuri Giants, five games against the Central League All-Stars, two games with the All-Japan All-Stars, and single contests with the Chunichi Dragons and the Hanshin Tigers. The first three games were played in Tokyo’s Korakuen Stadium, which held 45,000 fans.

    Continue to read the full article on the SABR website

    The Cold War, a Red Scare, and the New York Giants’ Historic Tour of Japan in 1953
  • Interview with Michael Meyer of ProEyeKyuu.

    Interview with Michael Meyer of ProEyeKyuu.

    About a month ago I stumbled across a very useful website for Japanese baseball stats, ProEyeKyuu. Among other things, this English-language site lets you sort all NPB stats by many different categories, contains boxscores of EVERY NPB game and play-by-play results for all NPB games since 2016 as well as broadcast schedules for NPB games. Check out the site HERE. I recently spoke to the site’s creator Michael Meyer to ask him about his creation.

    Q: How did you get interested first in Japanese baseball and then what eventually led to this website?

    ProEyeKyuu creator Michael and wife hanging out with Reds mascot

    A: I went to college at the University of Colorado and was a Chinese major. I spent a bit of time in China but was never great at the language. So, when I got back to the States, I wanted to try Japanese since I’d at least have a base of Kanji to start with.

    This took me to a study abroad in Osaka, and I later spent the summer in Kobe. I lived very close to Hotto Motto Field at that time and my wife, at the time girlfriend, bought us tickets to a game. So, the first team I ever saw was the Buffaloes playing one of their few games of the season in Kobe. Technically I’m a Rockies fan but they’re not the most fun team to watch. Conversely, Japanese baseball was very lively and fun, and got me hooked pretty quickly. Naturally living in Kansai I feel it’s inevitable that you wind up following the Tigers and that’s exactly what happened, though I do still have a soft spot for the Buffaloes.

    Q: So, what led to the site?

    A: I work in data at a law firm and back around 2019 we started to use a visualization software, Microsoft Power BI to present data better with graphics. I needed to wrap my head around it and the easiest way for me to do that was using baseball. I felt like everyone knows and does things with MLB, and so I really wanted to do something with NPB instead and use some of my Japanese skills as well. It started with me scraping data from the main NPB site and pulling it into Power BI. The first reports I built were super simple, not very graphically pleasing, but it helped me make sense of the software. Over time I built more of these reports, and they eventually started to get more useful and presentable.

    Then Covid hit and the world collectively decided that we’d all bake bread, but I didn’t get the memo and decided to try and turn what I created into a website. It started to take shape a lot more over 2020 and I wound up adding little things that were originally just helpful to me. For example, there’s a very simple page with scheduled broadcasts. I added that solely because I got tired of trying to find the right channel that a game was on. And the site just continued to take shape from there.

    Q: When did you make it public like it is today?

    I believe it was during Covid, and the site looked terrible. Like one of those old internet sites. I was learning how to build a website while it was live and so it took a few different forms over 2020 and the few years after. It took a while to nail down as I really wanted the site to be bilingual, and you’ll see that especially in all the interactive reports where it’s always showing you Japanese and English side-by-side.

    Q:  So, what features do you have when a viewer comes to your site. What are the main features and things they can learn right away?

    So, the first thing you probably look for if you’re new to the site is just the Standings. Just super quick way to get a glimpse of the league. Very simple thing that you could get from Google or other places, but I think it’s the easiest way to see sort of how the reports work. By default it’ll show you the latest or ongoing season, so you’ll of course see the standard table standings, and then also some charts beneath that showing wins and losses of the teams over the course of the season. We’re in the off-season right now of course so nothing’s changed since the last game.

    The main thing is that you can interact with all these reports. So, with standings you’re not limited to just the current season but can click through and quickly see the same for other seasons or click a button beneath those line charts to flip them to show the wins and losses not by the game they’re on but by date. Not too exciting but gives an idea of how to navigate things.

    After Standings the next thing you’d probably be interested in is what happened last. So, we have Game Results. Same idea that it’ll default to the latest games that occurred, but you can change that and see the results for all games back to 1936. You can get a play by play of each plate appearance for anything since 2016, which is when those play by plays started to appear on the main NPB site.

    The standings page on ProEyeKyuu

    Q: And you have the box scores going all the way back to the beginning?

    A: Box scores, batting, and pitching I’ve got all the way back to 1936. Unfortunately play by plays and the actual breakdown of what happened at each at bat is from 2016 on which I really wish wasn’t the case. I did make some design decisions which are probably a bit confusing like the box scores being shown vertically rather than left to right. That’s primarily because of when games went over 12 innings. The Chunichi Dragons had a double header back in 1942 where the first game went, I want to say 18 innings, then the second a record 24 or somewhere in there, so the vertical box scores are purely so if someone jumps back in time the box scores are not going to run off screen.

    Q: What else do we have?

    A: From there we have three different styles of reports that are all structured relatively similarly. The first is the player lookup, and it’s basically only going to tell you details on one specific player that you choose. It’s set to randomly default to a new person each day, so it also acts as a sort of “player of the day” thing as well. Right now, we’re in off-season mode so you’ll get some older players that have long since retired, but during the season it’s going to only show someone currently on a team. So, if you’re learning Japanese or just want to learn a new player then you could jump into that report once a day and see someone new. 

    A player page on ProEyeKyuu

    Next we have the team lookup which is similar to the player lookup except we’re looking at one team as a whole, so you can quickly see how they compare to the rest of the league and how they’ve performed over time. If you first jump in there, you’ll see a line chart with some randomly chosen stat and it’ll plot how the team performed with that stat compared to the rest of the league over their entire history. Since they’re interactive, you’ll see that you can click on the stat and change it to something else like ERA, OPS, or what have you, and the chart will adjust.

    And then there’s the multi report which is probably the most fun and useful. If you jump in there it’ll show you a scatterplot showing the teams and you can physically click on the X, Y, and Z axes to pick and choose stats to compare the teams by. Those stats are also randomized and change once a day by default and sometimes the comparisons don’t make much sense, but it’s just showing what you can do in the report. So, you can change the X-axis to for example pitching runs, Y-axis set to batting runs, and Z-axis make it something like plate appearances. That’d give you your more high-offense teams in the upper quadrants, and further left you go the stronger the pitching. That sort of thing.

    A multi report showing qualified batters sorted by OBP, SLG, and HR

    Q: So how do you navigate them and what can you do in them?

    A: Yeah, the player, team, and multi-reports are structured very similarly and so there’s probably three things to recognize in each. 

    First, if you look at the bottom of any of the reports, you’ll see some colorful little ovals that are telling you what the report is currently filtered to. Just a reminder that I wanted the reports multi-lingual so Japanese is on the left and English on the right. If you jump into the multi report today you’ll see that there are two filters applied by default, ‘2025’ and ‘Reg Season.’ So that’s telling you that any data you’re visualizing is currently limited to the year 2025 and to the regular season, and it’s not going to show you anything outside of that. Those can be changed, made stricter, or removed entirely. But basic idea, bottom of the screen will tell you what limits you currently have set on the data.

     Next is how you add and remove those filters. Those will always fall along the top of the screen. So keeping to the multi report example you’ll see ‘Specific Players,’ which is where you’d go if you want to locate specific people from a giant list, ‘Types of Players’ where you can say things like, “only show me left-handed hitters,” and ‘Teams,’ ‘Year,’ and ‘Game Type’ which are all hopefully obvious on what you can do there. They’re all point-and-click and as you add and remove what qualifications you want, you’ll see at the bottom of the screen that it updates to let you know that the data is now being filtered in that way.

    Third is the ‘Reports.’ By default, I show a line graph if you’re in the player and team reports, and a scatterplot of teams in the multi report. But that’s just one of the visuals you can show. In the upper-right of all these reports you’ll see a button also called ‘Reports’ which I probably should have termed differently, that allows you to visualize the data in all sorts of different ways. For example, you can view a bunch of tables broken out in different ways. Using the multi report example again you can for instance remove the 2025 filter to show all years in NPB history, but then add an ‘active player’ filter from the ‘Types of Player’ section to remove retired players from the data, and then you could select the ‘Player Batting Stats – Cumulative’ report from the dropdown to see all active players’ career stats basically as one line-item each. If you wanted that broken out by year you could use ‘Player Batting Stats – By Year’ and then you’ll see one row for every year for every player. The visual report I like to play with most is probably the ‘Player Scatterplot – By Year’ one as it’ll literally add a dot for every player and you can quickly plot them by things like OPS to see how everyone is performing, and you can color code it by team or their position. So, lots of ways to visualize things.

    Those are the three basic layout features you need to keep in mind. Beyond that the last thing to keep in mind is granularity. I don’t want to go into that too much here as I actually have a page explaining it in context on the site. Very briefly though, season level only lets you break down data by year, game level lets you break down and filter down to individual games, so performance against certain teams, performance by month, performance in a particular prefecture, and so on. And then the plate appearance level lets you filter the data down to in-game events like when runners are in scoring position, or when X batter is up against Y pitcher. There are some unfortunate data limitations at the deeper levels that I’d love to eventually find a source to resolve them and again I go into that on the site, but it allows you to do some very cool comparisons and get really into the weeds if you want.

    Q: Any plans to create some videos to show how to use the reports?

    A: I really should but I haven’t gotten around to it. I did setup a YouTube profile for the site but haven’t added anything to it. I will someday I promise. On the main page of the site, I do have some pictures showing some quick navigation around some of the reports that hopefully helps, but in general I’ve tried to be consistent in how you are supposed to navigate the reports so that if you learn one you should be able to just apply that same logic to the others. What is filtered is shown at the bottom, how you filter is set at the top, and how you visualize is set at the top right. Just try and keep those three things in mind.

    Q: What do you want to tell viewers about your site?

    A: Just that it’s a place to go and hopefully have fun and learn something. I do get a decent number of people asking me how to download things and although it’s unfortunately not possible in those interactive reports themselves, I have added to the site downloadable tables and CSVs and the like so you can export the top home run hitters, or all batting stats this year and the like. I’ve heard some interesting and fun reasons why people want the data and I’m just happy that I can provide an easy place to come and get it. I’m open to suggestions and requests so to anyone, feel free to reach out!

  • Joe DiMaggio’s Last Hurrah: The 1951 Lefty O’Doul All-Star Tour

    Joe DiMaggio’s Last Hurrah: The 1951 Lefty O’Doul All-Star Tour

    by Robert K. Fitts

    Every Tuesday morning we will post an article from SABR’s award-winning books Nichibei Yakyu: Volumes I and II. Each will present a different chapter in the long history of US-Japan baseball relations. This week Rob Fitts writes about how Lefty O’Doul brought a MLB all-star team, featuring Joe DiMaggio, to Japan in 1951.

    In 1951 American troops still occupied Japan, but their mission had shifted. Rather than seeing the country as a former enemy to be subjugated, Japan was now viewed as an ally in the fight against communism. As the war in Korea raged, Japan became a strategic center for United Nations troops, providing a supply base, command center, and behind-the-lines support that included hospitals. It became vital to US policy that democracy flourish in Japan and that ties between the two nations remain strong.

    Since the end of World War II, US forces had consciously used the shared love of baseball to help bind the two nations together. To this end, Maj. Gen. William F. Marquat, the occupation forces’ Chief of Economic and Scientific Section, had restarted Japanese professional and amateur baseball immediately after the war. He also worked closely with Frank “Lefty” O’Doul to organize baseball exchanges. O’Doul made three trips to Japan between 1946 and 1950, bringing over the San Francisco Seals in 1949 and Joe DiMaggio in 1950. In August 1951, O’Doul announced that after the season he would return to Japan for the fourth time; this time taking an all-star team of major leaguers and Pacific Coast League stars on a goodwill tour to bolster ties between the two countries.

    Sponsored by the Yomiuri newspaper, and organized by Sotaro Suzuki, the team was to play 16 games during a four-week trip starting in mid-October. The roster included American League batting champ Ferris Fain, Bobby Shantz, and Joe Tipton of the Athletics; Joe DiMaggio, Billy Martin, and Eddie Lopat of the Yankees; Dom DiMaggio and Mel Parnell of the Red Sox; Pirates Bill Werle and George Strickland; and PCL standouts Ed Cereghino, Al Lyons, Ray Perry, Dino Restelli, Lou Stringer, Chuck Stevens, and Tony “Nini” Tornay. To accommodate the All-Stars’ schedule, Japanese baseball Commissioner Seita (also known as Morita) Fukui canceled the final games of the Nippon Professional Baseball League so that the Japan Series could be concluded before the all-stars arrived.

    As the all-star squad was about to depart, Joe DiMaggio made a stunning announcement. He was considering hanging up his spikes. In a meeting in New York, Yankees President Dan Topping supposedly told his star, “You are going to Japan. … You will have a lot of time for thought. So, think it over, and when you get back to New York, call me up and we will go over this matter again.”

    O’Doul’s team gathered in San Francisco on October 15 and the next day boarded a Boeing 307 Stratoliner for the long flight to Hawaii. After an hour’s delay before takeoff, the plane finally departed. Thirty minutes later, an engine began to sputter and then died. “Boy, was I scared,” recalled Bobby Shantz. “It’s no fun to have a motor conk out and see nothing below you but Pacific Ocean!” The Stratoliner returned safely to San Francisco and after three hours of repairs tried again. As the plane neared Hawaii, O’Doul told his players to change into their uniforms. The team was scheduled to play a 7:30 P.M. game in Honolulu and although they would be late, Lefty planned to keep the engagement.

    Once they touched down at 9:45 P.M., a police escort whisked the ballplayers to Honolulu Stadium, where 15,000 fans were still waiting for the visitors to arrive. By 10:30 they were playing ball. The exhausted All-Stars put in a poor performance against the local semipros. The Hawaiians scored six off Shantz and Lopat as starting pitcher Don Ferrarese (who had played minor-league ball and eventually had an eight- year major-league career) held the visitors to a single run in four innings before the All-Stars erupted for five in the fifth inning to tie the score. Reliever Ed Correa, however, stymied the All-Stars for the remainder of the contest, striking out eight, as the Hawaiians pushed across two more runs to win 8-6. To the great disappointment of the crowd, Joe DiMaggio did not start and only appeared as a pinch-hitter in the eighth inning -Correa fanned him on three pitches. One irate fan later wrote to the Honolulu Star-Bulletin:

    Do you honestly think that the way you let 15,000 people down the other night is true sportsmanship? Folks came piling into the Honolulu stadium at7:00 PM and waited for six hours. … They came in droves, young and old. Old women carrying babies, dads with their kids, who should have been in bed in order to be ready for school the next day. And for what? … they all came for the one purpose of seeing one man in action, Joe DiMaggio. All through the game an old grandmother sat holding her grandson, who kept asking, ‘Where’s DiMaggio, Gramma, where’s DiMaggio? And when he finally did appear for an instant in the 8th, I looked over at them, and they were still waiting there, sound asleep! Yep, Lefty, you sure let us down.

    After the game ended at 12:55 A.M., the All-Stars trudged back to the airport and boarded a flight to Tokyo.

    General Marquat met the team when it arrived at Haneda Airport at 4:30 P.M. After a brief press conference, Marquat ushered the players into 15 convertibles for a parade through downtown Tokyo.

    As dark fell, nearly a million fans lined the streets of Tokyo to welcome the team. “I never saw so many people in my life,” recalled Shantz. “Baseball worshipping Japanese fans choked midtown Tokyo traffic for an hour and rocked the city with screams of ‘Banzai DiMaggio!’ … in a tumultuous welcome,” the United Press reported.“Magnesium flares flashed through the sky as the motorcade inched through the mob. DiMaggio and O’Doul were in the lead convertible, just behind a Military Police jeep that used its hood to push back the mob to clear a path. ‘Banzai DiMaggio! Banzai O’Doul!’the mob shouted. Scraps of paper rained from the windows of office buildings.”

    Yets Higa, a Honolulu businessman who accompanied the team to Japan, said, “The cars finally slowed down to almost a snail’s pace as thousands of Japanese baseball fans walked right up to the cars to touch the celebrities from America. The crowd intensified its enthusiasm as an American band played Stars and Stripes [Forever]. The whole thing was so fantastic that I couldn’t believe my eyes. Never in my life have I seen such a tremendous welcome given to any team.” The “surging crowds gave the ball players one of the greatest receptions ever accorded any visitors to Japan,” added the Nippon Times}

    The next afternoon, Thursday, October 18, 5,000 spectators showed up at Meiji Jingu Stadium (renamed Stateside Park by the occupation forces) to watch the visiting ballplayers practice. O’Doul and DiMaggio remained the center of attention. “When O’Doul walks off or on the field, going to his car, walking to the locker room or any other time he appears in public, people seemed to spring right out of the ground. Baseball fans of all ages press in on him and beg for an autograph or just mill around, trying to catch a glimpse of ‘Refty.’ Joe DiMaggio is the same way. … It becomes almost impossible for him to move from one place to another for the people who want him to sign cards, baseballs, scraps of paper, old notebook covers or anything they happen to have handy.”

    That evening more than 3,000 fans jammed the Nippon Gekijo, Asia’s largest movie theatre, to see the ballplayers. Thousands more waited outside after being turned away from the sold-out event. During the brief ceremony, Sotaro Suzuki introduced the players as each stepped forward and bowed to the audience. After the introductions, O’Doul spoke: “The long war with cannons and machine-guns is ended. Let’s promote Japanese-American friendship by means of balls and gloves. There is no sport like baseball to promote friendship between two countries. Oyasuminasai [goodnight].”

    On October 19, after 10,000 fans came to watch them practice, the ballplayers met with Gen. Matthew B. Ridgway, commander of the United Nations forces in Korea and the Supreme Commander of the Allied Powers in Japan. The general told the team that he was “very happy the major leaguers had come to Japan and felt sure their visit would promote good relations between the United States and Japan.” Ridgway also asked if the squad could travel to Korea to entertain the troops.

    The gates of Korakuen Stadium opened at 8 A.M. the following day to accommodate the expected throng for the opening game against the Yomiuri Giants. The players themselves arrived for practice at 11:40. By 1:30, 50,000 fans packed the stands as baseball comedian Johnny Price began his show. Often known as Jackie, Price had been a longtime semipro and minor-league player (with 13 major-league at-bats for the Cleveland Indians in 1946), who had turned to comedy. During the 1940s and ‘50s, he performed at minor- and major-league parks across the United States. His act included accurately pitching two baseballs at the same time, blindfolded pitching, bunting between his legs, catching pop flies down his pants, and both playing catch and batting while hanging upside down by his ankles from a swing set. His signature act featured shooting baseballs hundreds of feet in the air with an air-powered “bazooka” and then catching them from a moving jeep. The Japanese fans adored the show, having never seen anything like it in their serious games.

    At 1:45, an announcer introduced the two teams and numerous dignitaries as they lined up on the field. Just as the pregame ceremonies and long-winded speeches seemed endless, General Marquai yelled, “Let’s get on with the ball game!” and a few minutes later the teams took the field.

    The Yomiuri Giants had just completed one of their most successful seasons, running away with the Central League pennant by 18 games and then topping the Nankai Hawks in the Japan Series, four games to one. Their star-studded roster included seven future members of the Japanese Baseball Hall of Fame. Nevertheless, “manager Shigeru Mizuhara readily admitted that his championship team didn’t have a chance, but he promised his ball players will be hustling all the way to put up a good fight.”

    It did not take long for the All-Stars to grab the lead. After starter Takehiko Bessho retired leadoff batter Dom DiMaggio on a fly to right field, Billy Martin beat out a grounder to the shortstop. Ferris Fain then stroked a line-drive single into center field, sending Martin to third. Joe DiMaggio stepped to the plate and on a 2-2 count, “answering the fervent pleas of the fans” slammed a sharp single by the third baseman to score Martin. But a nifty double play turned by second baseman Shigeru Chiba ended the inning.

    Leading off the bottom of the first for Yomiuri was Lefty O’Doul’s protégé Wally Yonamine. Yonamine was the first American star to play in the Japanese leagues after World War II. Frustrated by not reaching the inaugural Japan Series in 1950, Yomiuri executives wanted to import an American player to strengthen their lineup and teach the latest baseball techniques.

    They reasoned that hiring a Caucasian player so soon after the end of the war would lead to difficulties, so instead they searched for the best available Japanese American player. They soon settled on Hawaiian-born Yonamine, who had not only just finished a stellar year with the Salt Lake City Bees of the Pioneer League but had also become the first man of Japanese descent to play professional football when he joined the San Francisco 49ers in 1947. In his first season with Yomiuri, Yonamine became an instant star, batting .354 with 26 stolen bases. He went on to have a 12-year Hall of Fame career in Japan.

    Yonamine battled starter Mel Parnell before drawing a walk. With a one-out single by Noboru Aota, the Giants threatened to even the score, but Parnell got out of the jam and proceeded to shut down Yomiuri for the next five innings. In the meantime, Bessho retired the next 10 All-Stars and the fifth inning began with the score still 1-0. Two errors, a walk, and a single in the fifth, however, increased the All-Stars’ lead to 4-0. The Americans tacked on another three runs and Bill Werle came on in relief of Parnell, holding Yomiuri scoreless for the 7-0 victory.

    Continue to read the full article on the SABR website

    Joe DiMaggio’s Last Hurrah: The 1951 Lefty O’Doul All-Star Tour
  • The Japanese Baseball Card Industry. Video of the January 28, Zoom talk with Tatsuo Shinke, CEO of MINT Sports Cards in Japan

    The Japanese Baseball Card Industry. Video of the January 28, Zoom talk with Tatsuo Shinke, CEO of MINT Sports Cards in Japan

    On January 28, 2026, Tatsu Shinke, the CEO of Mint Sports Cards, joined SABR’s Asian Baseball and Baseball Card Research Committees to talk about the sports card industry in Japan. You can now watch the talk on Youtube.

    https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yIco-gUF5s8

    Mr. Shinke is the CEO of Mint Sports Cards and Games, Japan’s largest chain of sports card shops. He has previously worked for Upper Deck and Japan’s largest sports card producer, Baseball Magazine.

  • Manny Ramírez Saved Taiwanese Baseball

    Manny Ramírez Saved Taiwanese Baseball

    The Hall of Fame candidate’s season in Taiwan resolved a national crisis, more or less

    by Jerry Chen

    2013 was a big year in baseball. It was the year the third iteration of the World Baseball Classic was held. It was the year the Houston Astros moved to the American League. It was also the year Manny Ramírez played half a season in Taiwan … and saved Taiwanese baseball.

    This year is Manny Ramírez’s 10th and final year on the Baseball Hall of Fame ballot. The general consensus is that he will not get enough votes to be inducted, even if he gets a final-year sympathy bump. He has the numbers to back up his legacy, and even though his performance-enhancing drug (PED) controversy will likely prevent him from getting enough votes, this is a story of how he (basically) saved Taiwanese baseball.

    Manny’s Hall of Fame case

    Manny’s career statistics are simply impressive. A few highlights from the Hall of Fame ballot: 12-time All-Star (1995, 1998-2008) and nine-time Silver Slugger Award winner (1995, 1999-2006) as outfielder… Won World Series MVP with Red Sox in 2004…Member of Red Sox’s 2004 and 2007 World Series Championship teams.

    According to Baseball Reference, from 1996 to 2006, Manny never produced wins above replacement (WAR) below 4.0 in any given season, and he contributed 7.3 WAR in 1999.1 He was an excellent slugger, leading the AL in slugging percentage and OPS in 1999, 2000, and 2004. He slashed .312/.411/.585 over his entire MLB career.

    Alas, Manny Ramírez failed two PED tests and was suspended twice, in 2009 and 2011. He retired from MLB the second time and never quite made it back even as he tried. If not for his PED-related suspensions, Ramírez would have undoubtedly been inducted into the Hall of Fame already. His statistics are unquestionably solid, and even his critics would agree he was one of the best right-handed hitters of all time. Former teammate and slugger David Ortiz was inducted in his first year of eligibility, and Manny put up significantly better numbers over his career.

    But, if not for the way his MLB career ended, he may not have gone to Taiwan and rejuvenated its national sport.

    Dark ages and a national crisis

    Taiwanese professional baseball experienced the second of its dark ages in the late-2000s,2 with four game-fixing scandals occurring within five years. The 2009 scandal involved many star Brother Elephants and Sinon Bulls players and dealt a major blow to an already embattled league. That year, the government convened a national affairs conference3 and set up a task force with the goal of reviving the national sport. Nevertheless, attendance was down almost 30% from its 2009 levels for each of the next three years and was poised to trend further downward.

    Out of this chaos and decline came a much needed restructuring: Sinon Corporation sold the Bulls to Kaohsiung-based conglomerate E-United Group, who renamed the team EDA Rhinos.4 The team under new ownership immediately pursued new initiatives, one of which was: acquiring Manny Ramírez.

    After retiring from MLB in 2011, Ramírez filed to be reinstated and ultimately served a negotiated-down 50-game suspension in the Oakland Athletics system. Once released by the A’s, he expressed interest in playing in Taiwan. The Rhinos were determined to make a deal happen and publicly confirmed their intention to sign him in February 2013. They reached an agreement with Ramírez in March and successfully acquired the most decorated foreign player in Taiwanese history.

    On March 11, 2013, Manny arrived in Taiwan. His first words upon arrival? “I love Kaohsiung.”

    Manny mania

    Kaohsiung loved Manny back. His arrival was met with extreme excitement. It was unprecedented for someone with all of his credentials aforementioned to join the Taiwanese league. And he delivered not just star power, but also dominance in the batter’s box. On April 4, Manny hit his first home run in Taiwan and then went on to hit seven more in the next three months. He slashed .352/.422/.555 with 21 extra base hits and 43 RBI in the 49 games that he played in Taiwan.

    Like a whirlwind, Manny’s visit was fast, impressive, and very short-lived. By the end of June, when he announced he would opt out of his contract, he was leading the league in batting average, home runs, and RBI. He already led the Rhinos to their first half-season title in the team’s inaugural year.

    By some estimates, Manny’s first week in Taiwan drove NT$13.7 million, or nearly half a million US dollars, in ticket and advance sales alone. In 2013, the league drew 1,459,072 total attendees, a 150% increase from the year prior and the largest audience in a decade.

    Where are they now?

    EDA Rhinos: The EDA Rhinos struggled without Manny in the second-half, placing last in that half, but they still secured a berth to the Taiwan Series given their first-half title and second place overall record. They lost the 2013 Taiwan Series to the Uni-President Lions. After four seasons and a championship in 2016, E-United Group sold the team to Fubon Financial for NT$300 million (toughly $10 million). As the Fubon Guardians, the team has struggled perennially and seen frequent manager turnover.

    Manny Ramírez: After leaving Taiwan, Manny spent a few years in the Texas Rangers and Chicago Cubs systems before signing with a Japanese independent league team and the Sydney Blue Sox of the Australian Baseball League. His seasons were cut short or canceled altogether due to COVID-19 and ongoing medical issues. He has been on the Hall of Fame ballot since 2017, reaching 34.3% of the vote last year.

    As for Taiwanese baseball? It got a much needed boost from Manny mania.5 Although it would not reach the same 1.5 million audience size achieved in 2013 until almost a decade later, the consistent 1.3-1.4 million annual attendance prior to the global pandemic stabilized the fanbase. In 2020, amidst the pandemic, Manny expressed interest in returning to Taiwan, at age 47. The CPBL did not need Manny’s star power to generate interest this time, and it became the first league in the world to return to action while the rest of the world suspended play.

    The league eventually added two expansion teams, the Wei Chuan Dragons in 2021 and the TSG Hawks in 2024. Attendance has reached all-time highs every year since 2023. Even though it has been over 12 years since Manny Ramírez played half a season for the EDA Rhinos, Taiwanese baseball will always have him to thank for reviving the sport all those years ago.

    And, for that, perhaps Manny deserves an honorable mention at Cooperstown.

    Covering the bases

    Taiwan Cooperative Bank defeated Taichung and won its seventh Popcorn League title. The Rakuten Monkeys have offered slugger Li Lin an eight-year NT$180 million ($5.7 million) contract extension. Athletics left-hander Wei-En Lin got a MLB Pipelineas a member of one of 2025’s most improved farm systems. The SoftBank Hawks announced they were supportive of new signee Jo-Hsi Hsu playing in the World Baseball Classic.

    1 Per FanGraphs’ calculations, he produced 4.0+ WAR from 1996 to 2003, with 7.5 in 1999.

    2 The first dark ages were in the late 1990s, when the country experienced its first game-fixing scandals involving the “Black Eagles” and a developing league schism.

    3 In Taiwan, a national affairs conference is a meeting of public officials, academics, subject matter experts, and/or private sector advisors; it is typically called in the event of political or economic crisis, akin to emergency advisory meetings or summits in the U.S.

    4 The team was named after E-United Group’s hospitality and entertainment arm, E-DA World.

    5 Team Taiwan’s participation in the 2013 World Baseball Classic, where it placed eighth in the world, also contributed to general interest and investment in the game that year. Veteran pitcher Chien-Ming Wang, whose early seasons with the New York Yankees electrified the country just a few years earlier, pitched for his national team for the first time since 2004.

    You can follow Jerry’s blog on Taiwanese baseball at:

    https://www.thetaipeisun.com

  • How baseball helped shape Japanese migrants’ experiences during the White Australia policy

    How baseball helped shape Japanese migrants’ experiences during the White Australia policy

    SABR member Ray Nickson work on early Japanese baseball in Australia is featured on the website The Conversation.

    https://theconversation.com/how-baseball-helped-shape-japanese-migrants-experiences-during-the-white-australia-policy-270054?utm_medium=article_clipboard_share&utm_source=theconversation.com&fbclid=IwY2xjawPCDxZleHRuA2FlbQIxMQBzcnRjBmFwcF9pZBAyMjIwMzkxNzg4MjAwODkyAAEeqkZf1iWEDmXcg8EgfSutogu9jru9R95JyIR20MsnnYEU4Ous-3srzC2N0uk_aem_8GbcdoQEwxjSikyRbfjwug

  • The Greatest Piece of Diplomacy Ever: The 1949 Tour of Lefty O’Doul and the San Francisco Seals

    The Greatest Piece of Diplomacy Ever: The 1949 Tour of Lefty O’Doul and the San Francisco Seals

    by Dennis Snelling

    Every Tuesday morning we will post an article from SABR’s award-winning books Nichibei Yakyu: Volumes I and II. Each will present a different chapter in the long history of US-Japan baseball relations. This week Dennis Snelling focuses on one of the most important pieces of baseball diplomacy in history: the 1949 San Francisco Seals tour of Japan

    There are moments, sometimes fleeting, often accidental, when sport transcends mere athletic competition. These moments are not judged by wins or losses, nor by runs scored or surrendered. The baseball tour of Japan undertaken by Lefty O’Doul and his San Francisco Seals in October 1949 serves as a prime example—an event that changed the course of history.

    At the tour’s conclusion, General Douglas MacArthur, Supreme Commander of the Allied Powers in Japan, declared, “This trip is the greatest piece of diplomacy ever. All the diplomats put together would not have been able to do this.”

    In a letter supporting a campaign aimed at Lefty O’Doul gaining membership in the National Baseball Hall of Fame at Cooperstown, MacArthur’s successor, General Matthew Ridgway, wrote, “Words cannot describe Lefty’s wonderful contributions, through baseball, to the postwar rebuilding effort.”

    In September 1945, a month after Japan’s surrender, reporter Harry Brundidge landed in the country and was barraged with queries about O’Doul. Lefty’s old friend Sotaro Suzuki, who first met O’Doul in New York in 1928 and was instrumental in organizing the 1934 tour featuring Babe Ruth, wanted Lefty to know he was okay. Emperor Hirohito’s brother inquired about the San Francisco ballplayer. Prince Fumimaro Konoe, the former prime minister of Japan, told Brundidge that O’Doul should have been a diplomat.

    If the 1934 tour was a watershed moment in the history of baseball between the United States and Japan, then 1949 served as a bookend, providing a yardstick for the Japanese after they had been shut off from the rest of the baseball world for 13 years. And, while he is not enshrined in Cooperstown, the 1949 tour is a major reason that Lefty O’Doul is in the Japanese Baseball Hall of Fame.

    Immediately after the end of the war, Douglas MacArthur was tasked with maintaining order in an occupied Japan, while at the same time maintaining the morale of its citizens. Communists were gaining a foothold, taking advantage of everyday Japanese life that was harsh, plagued with shortages of food, housing, and other basic necessities. Ruins and rubble pockmarked the country’s major cities, and families were disrupted by severe illness and death. Orphans hustled on the streets to survive, bullied, abused, and used; most of them homeless because existing orphanages could accommodate—at best—one-tenth of the need. Those who did make it into orphanages were sometimes stripped of their clothing in winter to prevent their escape.

    MacArthur saw sports as a means to boost the spirit of the Japanese, and assigned General William Marquat and his aide-de-camp, a California-born Japanese American named Tsuneo “Cappy” Harada, to rebuild athletic facilities around the country. University and professional baseball soon flourished, and in 1948 the amateur game was boosted through an affiliation with the National Baseball Congress, which served as an umbrella organization for semi-pro baseball in the United States and was expanding its reach to other countries. Within two years a Japanese team, All-Kanebo, was hosting a team from Fort Wayne, Indiana, in a well-received “Inter-Hemisphere Series,” won by Fort Wayne in five games.

    While local baseball remained extremely popular, it was not enough to arrest the decline in morale, leading MacArthur to grill his aides about the deteriorating situation. The story goes that Cappy Harada proposed an American baseball tour, recalling the one that had brought Babe Ruth to Japan 15 years earlier. He further suggested minor-league manager and two-time National League batting champion Lefty O’Doul, widely considered the most popular living American player by the Japanese, as the man to lead such a mission.

    MacArthur reportedly replied, “What are you waiting for?”

    O’Doul had spent three years pushing for just such a tour and was indeed interested. In March 1949 General Marquat announced that he was deciding between two proposals, one involving O’Doul and his PCL San Francisco Seals, and the other Bob Feller and his All-Stars.

    San Francisco Seals 1949 Tour of Japan Program with Lefty O’Doul. 

    O’Doul enthusiastically made his pitch, declaring, “I think we can contribute something to postwar Japan.” While his plan involved minor-league players versus Feller’s big leaguers, the veteran manager held an advantage due to his popularity and willingness to play for expenses only. He lobbied Marquat to choose his proposition over Feller’s, arguing, “A well-trained team which has been playing together all season doubtless could demonstrate much more than a group of all-stars who had been on different teams all season.”

    Marquat agreed, and in July 1949, Seals general manager Charlie Graham Jr. arrived in Japan to finalize what was hoped to be a 22-game tour beginning in mid-October.

    Graham was quoted as saying that General MacArthur told him, “The arrival of the Seals in Japan would be one of the biggest things that has happened to the country since the war.” Graham said that the General added, “It takes athletic competition to put away the hatred of war and it would be a great event for Japan politically, economically, and every other way.”

    Lefty O’Doul had visited Japan more than a half-dozen times by 1949, highlighted by trips while still an active player in 1931 and 1934, the latter of which led to an opportunity for him to play a role in establishing the first successful Japanese professional team, the Tokyo Giants. He had even helped that team stage two tours of the United States, in 1935 and 1936.

    Now, 15 seasons into managing the San Francisco Seals, O’Doul was on a plane in October 1949 bound for Japan. There was some disappointment that for financial reasons the schedule had been pared to 10 games, but O’Doul couldn’t help experiencing an emotional mix of excitement and anxiety, reflecting the gravity of the moment.

    Even so, he and his players were unprepared for the reception that awaited. The motorcade, led from Shimbashi Station by the Metropolitan Police band, was greeted by, according to some accounts, nearly one million people lining a route that stretched five miles. By all accounts, it was the largest gathering in Japan since the end of the war.

    The players were astounded by the reception. “It got the boys off on the right foot,” crowed an enthusiastic Seals owner Paul Fagan. Charlie Graham Jr. sputtered, “I couldn’t believe it. Never have we seen such a demonstration anywhere.” Infielder Dario Lodigiani exclaimed, “You would have thought we were kings.”

    As the 22-vehicle caravan wound through the streets of downtown Tokyo, the players were nearly obscured by a five-color flurry of confetti flung from office windows while they attempted to navigate a sea of humanity pinching the thoroughfare, fans close enough for the players to shake hands, and even sign a few autograph books. O’Doul shouted above the din, “This is the greatest ever!”

    It was at this point O’Doul realized that when he greeted those along the route with a triumphant “banzai,” it was not returned.

    “I noticed how sad the Japanese people were,” recalled O’Doul during an interview nearly 20 years later. “When we were there in ’31 and ’34, people were waving Japanese and American flags and shouting ‘banzai, banzai.’ This time, no banzais. I was yelling ‘Banzai’, but the Japanese just looked at me.”

    O’Doul asked Cappy Harada, “How come they don’t yell banzai?” Harada replied, “That’s the reason you’re here, Lefty. To build up the morale so that they will yell ‘banzai’ again.”

    The players spent their second day in Japan as a guest of Douglas MacArthur, highlighted by a luncheon served at the general’s home. MacArthur made a few remarks acknowledging the undertaking, and reminded the athletes of the importance he placed on the tour. He then turned to O’Doul and, noting his dozen-year absence from the country and the esteem in which he was held by Japanese baseball fans, told the Seals manager, “You’ve finally come home.” In public, players were treated as celebrities, provided special badges with their names printed in both English and Japanese so they would be recognized wherever they went. According to Seals outfielder Reno Cheso, every team member was assigned a car and driver, standing at the ready 24 hours a day.

    The Americans were quickly exposed to the Japanese mania for baseball. There were more than two dozen magazines devoted to the sport in Tokyo alone, and the game was played everywhere, all the time. “It was nothing to see Japanese kids playing ball on the streets and in vacant lots as early as six o’clock in the morning,” noted Dario Lodigiani—without revealing whether he was witnessing this as he was rising for the day, or as he was crawling back to his hotel following a raucous night.

    And then there were the autograph seekers—none of the Seals had ever seen anything like it, O’Doul included. Bellboys served as lookouts, and when the players returned to their hotel they confronted a gauntlet of fans in the lobby, each with baseballs and autograph books at the ready.

    “I remember the hordes of people who used to line up seeking Babe Ruth’s autograph when the Babe was at the height of his career,” said O’Doul. “But that was a bit more than a puddle of beseeching humanity compared to the ocean we encountered on every street comer, store, and hotel lobby in Kobe and Tokyo.”

    Many were repeat customers, looping back multiple times to obtain a signature on a ball or a program. Seals owner Paul Fagan was approached by one such man for three straight mornings. When he appeared for a fourth day in a row, Fagan asked him why he wanted another autograph from him. The man cheerfully replied, “All I need is four of your signatures and I can swap them for one of O’Doul’s!”

    The evening after lunch with MacArthur, O’Doul quashed a potential rumble at the Tokyo Sports Center, during a rally held in the team’s honor. People had lined up for nine hours in anticipation of gaining admittance; while 15,000 successfully obtained a coveted seat, 2,000 more remained outside, frustrated when the doors were locked.

    Made aware of the situation, which threatened to turn ugly, O’Doul rushed outside and apologized for not being able to admit the unlucky fans. He then told them, “I think speaking to you personally will no doubt serve to promote goodwill and friendship.” The crowd peacefully dispersed.

    The day before the first game, following a two- hour workout that included his taking a few swings, O’Doul made it clear that the Seals would respect their opponents. “In order to show our gratitude,” he said, “we intend to fight to the best of our ability and win the first goodwill game with the Giants with our best members.”

    The manager of the Tokyo Yomiuri Giants, Osamu Mihara—who had broken O’Doul’s ribs in a collision at first base during the 1931 tour—also vowed to use his best lineup, with one exception; his starting pitcher would be Tokuji Kawasaki, arguably the team’s third- best hurler. Mihara gambled that Kawasaki’s unusual breaking pitches would surprise the Americans. Since this would be the only meeting between the Seals and the team O’Doul had helped launch, Mihara’s choice disappointed many Japanese commentators, who had wanted to measure how their best professional team matched up against O’Doul’s squad.

    Fifty-five thousand fans jammed Korakuen Stadium for the tour’s first contest—the largest crowd ever to attend a game there. The stands were packed three hours before the first pitch despite a steady drizzle that had threatened cancellation.

    O’Doul addressed the fans before the game began, and the crowd roared its approval when he began his speech with a single word—a word he knew they would appreciate. The word was, “Tadaima,” translated in English as “I am home.”

    He presented a dozen American bats to each manager of the Japanese professional teams, and received thanks from the Japanese chairman of the event, Frank Matsumoto. Cappy Harada then introduced the Seals players to the crowd, and Mrs. Douglas MacArthur threw the ceremonial first ball to Seals pitcher Con Dempsey.

    Controversy would not absent itself from this event. The Japanese were surprised—and thrilled—when the national anthems of both nations were played and their flags flew together, the first such instance since the war. In contrast to the deep emotional response of the crowd, some in the American military contingent were angered by the display.

    Cappy Harada then ignited a firestorm by saluting both flags, a gesture that did not go unnoticed by the crowd. That salute, coming from a Japanese American no less, further infuriated some of Harada’s fellow American officers, who wanted him punished immediately. Complaints reached General MacArthur, who quashed the objections by revealing that he not only approved, but had asked Harada to do it, and Harada continued to do so for the remainder of the tour. O’Doul was pleased by the raising of the flags, and reflected on the emotion of that day. “I looked at the Japanese players and fans,” he remembered nearly two decades later. “Tears. [Their eyes] were wet with tears. Later, somebody told me my eyes weren’t too dry either.”

    The Seals easily won the opener, 13-4, even though San Francisco starter Con Dempsey was less than sharp, having been idle for three weeks. The 52-year- old O’Doul, energized by his return to Japan, grabbed a bat in the eighth and grounded out as a pinch-hitter. Pittsburgh Pirates left-hander Bill Werle, a former Seal added to the roster because several of the current Seals could not make the trip, relieved Dempsey and hit two batters in the fifth, but settled down and struck out the side the next inning. Werle closed the game with a one- two-three ninth, a pair of strikeouts and a slow roller to the mound. Werle’s opposite, Kawasaki—chosen because Osamu Mihara thought he would prove more effective against the Seals lineup—failed to make it out of the first inning. Afterward, Kawasaki blamed his underwhelming performance on the American horsehide baseballs that were used, complaining that they were more slippery than the cowhide baseball normally employed by the Japanese.

    Continue to read the full article on the SABR website

    The Greatest Piece of Diplomacy Ever: The 1949 Tour of Lefty O’Doul and the San Francisco Seals