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 Bill Staples, Jr. tell us about one of the most important Japanese American baseball players–Kenichi Zenimura and three of the tours he organized.
Few baseball fans know the story of early twentieth-century Nikkei (Japanese American) baseball. Despite this lack of awareness, the Nikkei impact is still visible in today’s game. It’s subtle, though, visible only to the well-informed. The legacy is not a retired uniform number displayed inside a major-league ballpark, but the names on the back of the uniforms. In 2022 those names are Akiyama, Darvish, Kikuchi, Maeda, Ohtani, Sawamura, and Suzuki—and in 2025, it will almost certainly include Ichiro on a plaque in the National Baseball Hall of Fame.
The national pastime has unofficially become the international pastime, and this is the enduring legacy of Nikkei baseball and the work of pioneers like Kenichi Zenimura (1900-1968).
During the years 1923 to 1930, no major-league team barnstormed in Japan. The highest-caliber competition from the United States during this time came in the form of Nikkei and Negro League teams like Zenimura’s Fresno Athletic Club (FAC) and the Philadelphia Royal Giants. During this major-league void, Nikkei and Negro Leaguers helped elevate the level of play in Japan and set the stage for the 1931 and 1934 tour of stars like Lou Gehrig and Babe Ruth, and the start of the professional Japanese Baseball League in 1936.
In 1962 Zenimura was crowned the “Dean of Nisei Baseball” by veteran Fresno Bee sports reporter Tom Meehan. Shortly after Zeni’s death in 1968, the same sentiment was echoed by Bee reporter Ed Orman. Approximately 25 years later, baseball historian Kerry Yo Nakagawa refined that tribute for a new audience, calling Zenimura “The Father of Japanese American Baseball.” Nakagawa and others believe that Zeni deserves this title for his unparalleled career and collective impact as a player, manager, and global ambassador.
PREWAR GOODWILL AMBASSADOR
Between 1905 and 1940, roughly one out of four (26.5 percent) tours across the Pacific featured a Nikkei team visiting Japan. When examining the tours between 1923 and 1940, Zenimura’s impressive impact becomes apparent. Of the 53 tours during this period, Zenimura was involved, to some degree, with 17 (32 percent) of those efforts. When he himself was not traveling, Zeni supported or influenced 14 different tours by other Nikkei teams, visiting Japanese ballclubs, Negro League teams, and major-league all-stars.
The following is an in-depth look at Zenimura’s three major tours—1924, 1927, and 1937—in which he participated directly, allowing him to shine in his homeland of Japan.
Kenichi Zenimura (right) with his cousin Tasumi Zenimura (left) in 1928.
THE 1924 TOUR
The seeds for Zenimura’s 1924 tour were planted on Independence Day in 1923 when the Fresno Athletic Club battled the Seattle Asahi for the National Nikkei Baseball Championship. The Asahi had earned the respect of the baseball world by winning the majority of their games during tours to Japan between 1915 and 1923. In a best-of-three series, the FAC defeated the Asahi to become the undisputed Nikkei baseball champions. With the victory, Fresno also won the right to tour Japan the following year.
In preparation for the tour, the FAC scheduled games against high-caliber competition, including the Pacific Coast League Salt Lake City Bees, who conducted spring training in Fresno. In a three-game series, the FAC surprised the Bees with a 6-4 victory in game one, marking the first time a Nikkei team defeated a PCL ballclub. The series also marked the presence of Frank “Lefty” O’Doul. Newly signed from San Francisco, O’Doul did not compete in the loss, but his powerful bat helped the Bees take games 2 and 3.
More important than O’Doul’s on-field performance was the historical significance of his involvement. The gregarious southpaw would later be enshrined in the Japanese Baseball Hall of Fame for his life’s work as a celebrated ambassador of US-Japan baseball relations. Most likely, this 1924 encounter marks O’Doul’s first interaction with ballplayers of Japanese ancestry.
On September 2, 1924, the FAC boarded the SS President Pierce for Japan.Six weeks later they stepped inside Koshien Stadium to play their first opponent, Daimai. The FAC recorded a shutout 5-0 victory behind the arm of Kenso “The Boy Wonder” Nushida. Fresno pitchers did not allow a run until their third game, on October 14, a 4-3 loss in a rematch with Daimai.
During their 46-day stay in Japan (October 11 to November 26), the Fresno team traveled approximately 1,300 miles (about 2,100 kilometers), covering nine cities—starting in Osaka, with stops in smaller locales between Hiroshima, Tokyo, and Yokohama. They played 27 games, finishing with a 20-7 record and an overall .741 winning percentage.
After watching the Fresno captain compete on the field, a reporter with the Japan Times wrote, “Zenimura is one of the smartest and most colorful players the writer had ever seen. He was the terror of the diamond, a man who played every position in baseball. He was tricky, shrewd and positive poison to every opponent.”
In Tokyo, Zeni penned his thoughts on the Japan tour experience in a letter to the Fresno Morning Republican, which was published on December 5. It read:
Tokyo, Japan November 16, 1924
Mr. T.P. Spink Sports Editor, The Republican.
Dear Sir: –
The Fresno team is doing a [sic] good work in Japan and so far our record stands 18 victories and 5 lost. In today’s game we played against Keio and defeated them by the score of 8-to-4. We gave the last four runs in the last of the ninth after two men gone.
In Japan it doesn’t pay to win a game in a far margin. If we do then there won’t be any crowd coming to the next game, saying that we are too strong for this Japan team and so on. We had many examples in Osaka.
Beat Diamonds
One day we played against the pro team of Osaka which is known as Diamonds and in our first game we defeated them by a score of ll-2. In this game quite a many fans [sic] came to see the outcome but on the following day with the same teams there was hardly any people in the stand[s]. For this reason, it is hard for the visiting team to play a game in Japan.
Another thing disadvantaging us is the way these Tokyo umpires calls [sic] on decisions against us. … I can’t figure the way these umpires make a bad decision when ever the play is close. We had enough of the raw decisions in Tokyo, but what can we do in Japan!!!
Meet Champions
Tomorrow we are playing against Waseda, the intercollegiate champions of Japan. We hope to beat them badly and by the time this letter reaches you, you will be able to get the result.
On the way to the States I am figuring of stopping over to Honolulu and spend my Christmas and New Year’s there. About five of the players are going to do the same and eleven of the remaining players will be in Fresno by 13th of December 1924.
As soon as the team reaches to Fresno we would like to play a three game series with the Fresno Tigers.
Yours truly,
K. ZENIMURA (Captain).
The Waseda contest mentioned in the letter resulted in a 3-2 loss for Fresno. FAC lost the game, but won the respect of the opposing manager, Chujun Tobita. He praised the visiting team’s baseball skills, saying they were “amazing” in their demonstration of technique and power.
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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 Adam Berenbak tells us about the 1922 MLB tour led by Herb Hunter.
THE PLOT
The Polo Grounds. New York’s National League champs were on the verge of beating the mighty Yankees for the second year in a row. The 1922 World Series was once again a series in one park, as each game for the past two years had found a home at Coogan’s Bluff. As the triumph neared, Herbert Hunter, a former Giant attending the game, received a cablegram inviting him and the stars of the Series on a tour of Japan. Eager to capitalize on this moment, he recruited several Yanks and Giants, including the dashing George Kelly, to make the trip across the Pacific. Little did they know that they had just been swept up in an international plot to corrupt baseball, a plot not too distant from the Black Sox conspiracy that had nearly ruined faith in the great game.
Luckily for the history of the sport, this was not the truth of the 1922 tour of Japan, nor a plot in any sense other than fictional. The United Pictures Company had assembled a team of actors, both American and Japanese, as well as a loose script about an international conspiracy plot, to travel with the group of major-league all-stars, assembled by Hunter, during their trip overseas.Known officially as the All-American Baseball Team but often called the Herb Hunter All-Stars, they sailed across the Pacific after the 1922 season to face college and club teams that represented the height of Japanese talent. In addition to the professional actors, the American and Japanese ballplayers portrayed themselves in the film, participating in the unique experience of acting on two stages at once—in front of the crowds that gathered in Japanese ballparks as well as future crowds in theaters. It might be said that somewhere between fact and fiction lies the truth, and while the tour did not produce the kind of melodrama filmgoers would be eager to view, the games generated their own drama and myths, straddling that line between fact and fiction in the legacy of international baseball.
VANCOUVER
The Canadian Pacific Railway train number 1 arrived in British Columbia on October 17, 1922, carrying with it the team of major leaguers set to sail for Japan and begin a tour of baseball diplomacy. On the 19th the Vancouver weather held and the touring pros, led by Herb Hunter, opened their trip with a 16-1 walloping of Ernie Paepke’s local squad, providing a thrill to a crowd that had little access to major-league ball as well as a proper warm-up prior to the long boat ride to Japan. During the game, George Kelly, Irish Meusel, Joe Bush, and Fred Hofmann all saw playing time. Because all four had participated in the recent World Series, this technically broke the rules against Series stars barnstorming together. However, due to the pickup nature of the game, neither the press nor the players, and especially not the fans, seemed to care. The team boarded the Empress of Canada for Honolulu immediately after the game.
Once aboard and on their way, the team received a telegram from Judge Kenesaw Mountain Landis, hired as commissioner two years prior to clean up the game wrecked by what has become known as the Black Sox Scandal. Reports had reached Landis that the barnstorming rules he guarded with such ferocity had been broken. Just the year before, he had chastised, suspended, and fined Babe Ruth for similar barnstorming infractions. He was furious, especially after only reluctantly giving Hunter permission for the tour. The tourists communicated with home via Bob Brown, sponsor of the Vancouver game, to whom they messaged a wireless reply to Judge Landis’s barnstorming complaint. Brown in turn sent an explanation over the wire assuring Landis that there was no intentional rule-breaking and that the entire experience fostered nothing but goodwill and economic possibilities in the Northwest. What went unmentioned in the press was that the game was not on the printed schedule, and it was probably the unscheduled barnstorming that added to Landis’s ire. Landis made no reply but was reported sleepless over the incident. His objections to barnstorming, along with his reported racial prejudice, combined with the events of the 1922 tour to shape the relationship between US and Japanese baseball for the next decade.
Tour organizer Herbert Harrison Hunter had been a professional ballplayer since 1914, and signed with John McGraw’s Giants in 1915. Though he had been touted as a sure-bet prospect, Hunter was never able to fulfill those promises in New York or anywhere else in the big leagues. He had first made his way to Japan as part of the 1920 Gene Doyle tour that featured primarily Pacific Coast League players. An eccentric among eccentrics, and more of an entertainer on baseball’s stage, Hunter was always a dandy (to McGraw’s consternation and confusion), and enjoyed sticking out, wearing “a fresh chrysanthemum every day” and touring the nightlife of Tokyo as a celebrity. During the 1920 tour, Hunter began coaching the Waseda University nine. He seemed to enjoy the way the students looked up to him; he treated them to elaborate dinners and allowed them to worship him.
Herb Hunter
He found work back in the States in 1921, playing the majority of the year in the South Atlantic League before an end-of-season call-up to the St. Louis Cardinals. In the fall Branch Rickey released him in support of his endeavors in Japan. Though Hunter, bom in Boston on Christmas Day 1895, had played in only 39 games over four seasons with the Giants, Red Sox, Cardinals, and Cubs, his major-league experience, however brief, was highly valued in Japan. In the winter of 1921 and into early 1922, Hunter returned to Japan to coach both Waseda and Keio Universities and developed a friendship with the “father of Japanese baseball,” Isoo Abe.
With Abe’s help, a sponsorship by Mariya Sporting Goods, and the backing of the Mainichi Shimbun newspaper company, Hunter sought to arrange for a group of major leaguers, including Babe Ruth, to tour Japan after the end of the 1922 season.
Having witnessed the unrealized potential of the 1920 Doyle tour, as well as the value in the promise of Ruth, he knew the revenue was there. And it wouldn’t hurt to align himself with Ruth, the most popular player in the world, to achieve his financial and celebrity ambitions. After spending the whole winter in Japan, he sailed back in February of 1922 with a mission to build a roster, armed with a guarantee of $50,000, though it would be only to cover expenses. Hunter envisioned this as the first of what would be annual tours, with him at the center, his mission to promote himself as much as to establish regular international competition with a real “world series.”
Although Hunter had also worked with Keio as well as other teams that would eventually form the Big Six University system, it was his relationship with the Waseda team that played the biggest role in getting the first real major-league tour of Japan under way. Waseda was eager to become the dominant team in Japan as well as the foremost ambassador of the Japanese game. Between the beginning of 1920 and the All-Stars’ visit in the fall of 1922, the team had faced US competition seven times on both sides of the Pacific. Instrumental in their drive were Abe, who had founded the Waseda team and had led the first-ever transcontinental tour when his team traveled the US West Coast in 1905, and Chujun Tobita, a man on a mission. Tobita had played with the Waseda nine back in 1910 when the University of Chicago had beaten them soundly, and the loss inspired the second baseman. Now the manager of Waseda, he drove the team with his famous “death training,” developed to hone the skills and spirit of the young players. Success, in part, meant beating Chicago, and “[i]f the players do not try so hard as to vomit blood in practice, then they cannot hope to win games.”
With Waseda’s support, the backing of the Mainichi Shimbun, a tentative agreement from both American League President Ban Johnson and Landis that goodwill tours would benefit the game (as long as its participants conducted themselves as diplomats and nobody got injured), and even the support of President Warren Harding, who noted the tour’s “real diplomatic value,” Hunter assembled an all-star squad for the 1922 tour.
But first a roster would need to be constructed. Rogers Hornsby, Harry Heilmann, and Frank Frisch topped Hunter’s list, but all of his backers in Japan were especially pining for home-run hitters Babe Ruth and George “High Pockets” Kelly. Near the height of his fame, Ruth was a draw everywhere he went, and Japanese fans reportedly clamored for a chance to see him in person—something that didn’t happen for another 12 years. Ruth proved to be unattainable, and most of the others declined for various reasons—even an invitation to Art Nehf that was initially accepted fell through when John McGraw requested that he stay stateside.
In the end, Hunter secured the 1921 National League home run king George Kelly and put together a team featuring members of the 1922 World Series competitors. Included with Kelly were fellow Giants Casey Stengel and Irish Meusel, along with Waite Hoyt, Fred Hofmann, and Joe Bush from the Yankees. Also on the team were future Hall of Famer Herb Pennock, Amos Strunk, Brooklyn outfielder Bert Griffith, Luke Sewell, Riggs Stevenson, and Bibb Falk. Rounding out the group was John “Doc” Lavan, Hunter’s ex-teammate on the Cardinals. The agreement with Landis included a clause that the players would receive no 1923 contract until they reported to spring training in good health after returning from the tour. New York Sun sportswriter Frank O’Neill joined as an organizer as well as reporter, along with George Moriarty, who was along as much to be the eyes and ears of Landis as umpire. It may have been Moriarty who had reported the barnstorming infraction, but nonetheless his role seemed to be keeping an eye on the proclivities of some of those players prone to take a drink outside the confines of Prohibition. Some of the organizers’ and players’ wives accompanied the team, a request made in light of the 1920 tour’s unruly behavior.
After arriving in Yokohama on the last day of October, the Americans checked into the Tokyo Imperial Hotel. The hotel was one of the few structures to survive the great earthquake that struck Japan in September of the following year. That disaster, known as the Great Kanto Earthquake, devastated Tokyo and led to fires and tsunamis that killed more than 100,000 people.
Japan’s fortunes had fluctuated since the end of the Meiji period, a decade prior to Hunter’s tour. The silk market, and the stock market along with it, had crashed in 1920, and the country’s place on the world stage was precarious. Tension between the United States and Japan was high as arguments were about to begin in front of the US Supreme Court regarding barring immigrants of Asian descent from becoming naturalized American citizens.28 The importance of the diplomatic aspect of baseball tours grew as these tensions grew, and the 1922 tour proved how successful the tours could be. This diplomatic endeavor was showcased on the baseball diamond at the Shibaura Grounds in Tokyo’s Minato ward.
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The Clyde Sukeforth Chapter (ME/NH) in conjunction with the Gardner-Waterman Chapter (VT) offers a special presentation with SABR Member Rob Fitts in a Zoom Meeting on Wednesday, November 5, 2025 at 7 PM Eastern, 4 PM Pacific. All baseball fans are welcome!
Fitts will talk about his new book and provide an introduction to Japanese baseball.
In the Japanese Ballpark: Behind the Scenes of Nippon Professional Baseball
This book takes you deep inside the heart of Japan’s national pastime—far beyond the box scores and highlight reels. To discover what truly sets Japanese baseball apart, author Robert Fitts went straight to the source: the players, managers, umpires, team owners, mascots, beer girls, and lifelong fans who live and breathe the sport. Through their personal stories and behind-the-scenes insights, you’ll get an insider’s look at how the game works, and what makes Japanese baseball unique—and so much fun. Get a front-row seat to the traditions, strategies, and spirit that define baseball in Japan. From the passion of the fans to the precision of the game, every page offers eye-opening stories and insights you won’t find anywhere else. Whether you’re a die-hard fan or just discovering the magic of the Japanese game, In the Japanese Ballpark can help you fully experience every pitch, hit, and cheer.
Robert Fitts has published eleven books and numerous articles on the history of baseball in Japan and Japanese baseball cards. He received his Ph.D. in historical archaeology from Brown University and ran excavations in New York City before turning to baseball history. He is the founder and chair of the Society of American Baseball Research’s Asian Baseball Committee and recently received the society’s Chadwick Award for lifetime contributions to baseball history. He currently is a curatorial consultant for the Yakyu-Baseball exhibit at the National Baseball Hall of Fame in Cooperstown.
It’s been over 40 years since professional baseball took root in Korea. It’s now gone beyond being just a sport and has deeply permeated Korean daily life and culture. Traces of baseball can be found not only in the cheers and songs at the stadium but also in everyday scenes outside the ballpark. One such example is the sight of students on university campuses wearing matching jackets as a group. This jacket, called the “gwajam,” actually originated from the “baseball jacket,” and today it has become the uniform of youth. More than just a fashion item, this jacket has found its place in Korean society. But how did it get there?
A Tradition Born with the Harvard Baseball Team
The roots of the baseball jacket trace back to 19th-century American college baseball traditions. At the time, Harvard’s baseball team awarded its starting players sweaters embroidered with the school’s initials. These were known as letterman sweaters. They weren’t just for warmth, they were symbols of honor, proof of one’s baseball skill and achievement.
Over time, the tradition evolved into a more practical jacket: wool for the body, providing warmth, and leather for the sleeves, offering durability against friction and wind. This combination was perfect for athletes braving cold weather on the field. At the same time, the two-tone design of wool and leather created a bold look that expressed school colors and identity. With its blend of function and symbolism, the “varsity jacket” became an iconic symbol of American college sports.
Early Harvard baseball team in the 19th century
The Birth of the “Baseball Jacket” in Korea
This jacket entered Korea in the 1980s, coinciding with the launch of professional baseball. The two-tone design of wool body and leather sleeves resembled the thick warm-up jackets worn by players in the dugouts. In fact, players from the MBC Blue Dragons, one of the founding teams, were often seen wearing such jackets with their blue uniforms. This became a familiar sight to fans.
When combined with the popular image from American dramas and movies, “baseball teams wear varsity jackets,” Koreans naturally began calling this unfamiliar jacket yagujamba (baseball jacket). Unlike its difficult English name, the simple and catchy Korean nickname stuck instantly with the public.
By the late 1990s, university sports teams and clubs began adopting baseball jackets as group uniforms. It’s said that Seoul National University’s rugby team was the first to make them, which is often cited as the origin of the Korean-style gwajam (short for “gwahak jamba,” or “department jacket”).The trend soon spread to academic departments, and the naming system took hold: school/department name on the front, and name/student ID/graduation year on the back. So widespread was the practice that almost every Korean university student came to own at least one. More than showing belonging, gwajam became a symbol of youth itself, carrying memories of that time.
Over time, the gwajam branched out into more variations beyond the original baseball jacket: long padded coats for winter, hoodies for mobility, and custom jackets for individuality. Though the forms changed, the core remained the same: wearing the same jacket together to affirm belonging and share memories. Just as baseball teams express identity through uniforms, the gwajam became another kind of uniform showcasing the collective bonds of students.
Another Legacy Left by Baseball
In the U.S., the varsity jacket symbolized the achievements of outstanding athletes. In Korea, however, the gwajam was reborn as an expression of group solidarity. Though its direct link to baseball seems small, the survival of the name “baseball jacket” owes much to the cultural symbolism of professional baseball in Korea.
Baseball did not end at the stadium. Its name carried over into campus life, becoming part of the landscape of youth. Years later, when one pulls out a gwajam from the closet and wears it again, the cheers, laughter, and time spent with friends come rushing back.The name borrowed from baseball isn’t just a label, it’s proof that Korean baseball culture has deeply embedded itself beyond the game, into everyday life and memories of youth. That’s why even today, the baseball jacket remains the uniform of youth, a testament to the enduring power of baseball culture.
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 Satoshi Matsumiya and Yobun Shima focus on the 1921 tour of Japan by the Vancouver Asahi.
The Vancouver Asahi team was formed in 1914 with players who were mostly graduates of the Vancouver Japanese Community National School. Ihachi Miyasaki (a.k.a. Matsujiro Miyasaki), who ran a transportation business, became the manager of the team, which was organized through the Shiga Prefecture network and Matsumiya stores’ connections. The team played and practiced in vacant lots near the school and at Powell Grounds.
In 1918, the Asahi was reorganized under the leadership of president Sotojiro Matsumiya by recruiting top players from nearby Japanese Canadian teams (such as the Yamato, Mikado, and Victoria Nippon) to form a stronger team now named the Asahi Baseball Club. In July 1918 they formed the Vancouver International League with Caucasian teams and started to play league games. That year, the Asahi finished second in the International League but lost the playoffs. The following year, they won the International League with an overwhelming record of 11 wins and 1 loss. Although the Asahi featured a full lineup of Japanese players against White teams who were bigger and more powerful, they showed that teamwork and smart game play could win the league championship. Japanese Canadian baseball fans were excited by the victory and gathered at the Powell Street Grounds to share their hopes for an Asahi tour to Japan. But team members said, “No, it’s too early for that. We will have to polish our team’s skills before demonstrating them to the Japanese people in our ancestral country.”
In 1920 the presidency of the Asahi team changed to Henry Masataro Nomura, who decided to rename the team the Asahi Athletic Club, withdraw from the International League, and join the higher-ranked Vancouver City League to improve Asahi’s performance. Nomura had relocated in 1917 from St. Louis to Vancouver, where he started practicing dentistry on the second floor of Royal Bank. He was a passionate advocate of a theory for healthy baseball and sports but some of the players did not agree with him and they sometimes rebelled.
Asahi finished third in the City League in the 1920 season with a record of 10 wins and 14 losses. At the end of the season, there was a resurgence of talk about a tour to Japan. Some Japanese Canadians enthusiastically proposed that the team should demonstrate their baseball ability in their ancestral country to help raise the spirits of the team’s players. It was around this time that Yuji Uchiyama, one of the Asahi players, had returned to Vancouver after accompanying the Seattle Mikado team on their Japan tour. Uchiyama told the Asahi players about the current baseball situation in Japan. The Japanese Canadian Nisei (second-generation) players, who hoped of visiting their motherland, listened to him with shining eyes, and the team’s expectations for a tour to Japan rose at once. Nomura, as the leader of the team, showed great interest in the idea of a Japan tour and told many people about the plan to help gain support. Nevertheless, six players (Barry Kiyoshi Kasahara, Harry Miyasaki, Junji George Ito, Bull Oda, Tom Nichi Matoba and Sotaro Matsumiya) decided to withdraw from the Asahi team to form a new baseball club named the Vancouver Asahi Baseball Team (also known as the Tigers). The two groups were not in agreement over whether to go on the Japan tour. It was also rumored that they were divided over Nomura’s management policy.
Nomura’s Asahi Athletic Club rejoined the City League while the new Vancouver Asahi Baseball Team (the Tigers) joined the Terminal League, which had been previously known as the International League. Therefore, the two Asahi teams played in separate leagues. At the end of the 1921 season, the Asahi Athletic Club decided to follow Nomura’s plan and go on a tour to Japan.
On August 24, the day of the departure for Japan, a send-off party for the team was held at the Yang Ming Lou restaurant. Tour leader Nomura said, “We have been negotiating with Makoto [Shin] Hashido of the Japan Athletic Association for a long time. And they decided to invite us to Japan officially, so here we are today. The games will be played mainly against the Japanese university teams. And we will also visit Hokkaido plus Kansai to foster friendship between Japan and Canada.”
The touring party consisted of 19 members: 12 Japanese players, four Caucasian players, and three leaders. These were Henry Masataro Nomura and his wife, Lovenda; scorer Yosomatsu (Nishizaki) Horii; umpire Dr. Fletcher; pitchers Mickey Kitagawa (captain), Tokikazu Tanaka, and Tat Larson; catchers Yo Horii, and Jack Wyard; first baseman Happy Yoshioka; second basemen Joe Nimi and Yuji Uchiyama (manager); third baseman Ernie Paepke (coach); shortstop George Iga; left fielders Joe Brown and Tamotsu Miyata; center fielder Eddie Kitagawa; right fielder Ted Furumoto; and substitute Takashi Kikukawa. The four Caucasian players were added to the Japan tour team for promotional reasons and to reinforce the squad.
The players’ spirits were high because the Japan trip was not only a tour of their ancestral country but was also a mission to promote friendship between Canada and Japan and to introduce British Columbian industry. The players received new uniforms, enjoyed the send-off party, and each expressed his determination to do his best. At 11:30 P.M., about 200 Japanese Canadians and Caucasians gathered at the pier to see the team off. The players lined up on the deck of the Kashima Maru with bouquets of flowers in their hands, donated by volunteers, and shouted “Banzai! Banzai!” The ship sailed off with a whoosh that pierced the air. A series of reports about the tour were to be written by manager Yuji Uchiyama and sent to the Tairiku Nippo (Continental Daily Newspaper) in Vancouver under the title “The Baseball Tour.”
The trip to Japan took two weeks. Also traveling on the Kashima Maru was the University of Washington baseball team, which was also touring Japan. In all, 10 teams from North America and Hawaii toured Japan that year: the University of California, Washington University, the Hawaiian Nippon, the Hawaiian Hilo, the Hawaii All-Stars, the Canadian Stars, the Suquamish Indians, the Sherman Indians, the Seattle Asahi, and the Vancouver Asahi. All of them were hoping to play with Japanese university teams. This phenomenon showed how popular Japanese baseball had become and how active baseball exchanges between Japan and the United States were.
As the voyage progressed, the Asahis played catch, ran, and played pepper on the deck during the day to prevent their bodies from getting too slow. Sometimes, their precious baseballs flew overboard into the sea. In the evening they met to discuss strategy and learn the signs. There were some players, however, who could not get up from their beds owing to seasickness.
On September 9 in the evening, after the long voyage, the Kashima Maru at last dropped anchor at Yokohama Port.
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In the spring of 1942, 15-year-old Momo Nagano needed a way to fill her time.
She was imprisoned at the Manzanar Relocation Center along with approximately 10,000 other people of Japanese ancestry. When she’d arrived with her mother and two brothers, she’d been horrified.
The detention facility was located in the middle of the desert, about 225 miles northeast of Los Angeles. As I describe in my book “When Can We Go Back to America? Voices of Japanese American Incarceration during World War II,” barbed wire surrounded the perimeter and armed soldiers peered down from guard towers. The toilets and showers lacked partitions, and Nagano was forced to stand in long lines for hours in mess halls that served canned food. Her bed was a metal cot. She was directed to stuff straw into a bag for a makeshift mattress. She didn’t know whether she and her family would ever be able to return to their Los Angeles home.
One day, the teenager decided to pick up a glove and play softball. Her son, Dan Kwong, told me in an interview that Nagano ended up playing catcher for The Gremlins, one of the camp’s many women’s softball teams.
“In one game, a batter connected with the ball and then threw the bat, clocking my mom in the nose, breaking it,” he said. “But despite her injury, she still enjoyed playing, even though she didn’t think her team was very good.”
Eighty years later, the descendants of prisoners – such as Nagano’s son, Kwong – are playing baseball again in Manzanar. Thanks to an effort spearheaded by Kwong, a baseball field on the site has been restored as a way to both celebrate the resiliency of so many prisoners and memorialize this dark period in U.S. history.
On October 15, 1975, the Hiroshima Toyo Carp arrived in Tokyo to play the Yomiuri Giants needing a win to clinch the Central League pennant. In the Carp’s 25-year history, they had never finished above third place.
Carp first baseman Gail Hopkins remembers:
There was obviously a lot of pressure on us, and the guys were starting to feel it. Wally Yonamine’s team, the Chunichi Dragons, had been even with us in the standings but we went up a game on them. We were at the point where we controlled our own destiny. If we won, we would win the pennant. If we didn’t win, then we had to play the next day and we’d still have to win that game and it would also depend on what happened with Chunichi, which was off in another place playing while we were playing in Tokyo.
The stands were packed. The stadium was full with 50,000 fans. That stadium was always full even though the Giants were 27 games behind us. They drew 3.05 million people that year. About 15,000 to 20,000 people came to the game from Hiroshima They had these rice spoons from Miyajima, which is an island right near Hiroshima. When something went well for us, our fans would smack these spoons together. So, there was this incessant clicking of the spoons going on during the game.
Pitching for us was Yoshiro Sotokoba and he was really throwing the ball very well. The pitcher they had throwing against us was a left-hander named Hisao Niura and he was a big guy, about six feet, and he threw pretty hard. He had pretty good stuff and he was pitching very well that night, so we didn’t have a whole lot of chances.
Yoshiro Sotokoba
We scored the first run in the fifth inning. Our catcher, Hiroyuki Michihara, came to bat and he hit a ground ball down the third baseline. Davey Johnson was playing third base for the Giants, and he had to move toward the line. When he went to make the play, the ball hit off his glove and he obscured the baseline from the umpire. The umpire called the ball fair, and it was, but there was a big argument between the Giants manager Shigeo Nagashima and the umpire. Nagashima said it was a foul ball and put on a show. It was his first year as a manager and he was terrible. I mean he was truly terrible as a manager. But anyway, the ball was fair, and then our catcher was sacrificed to second. Then Tsuyoshi Oshita hit the ball off the wall and their left fielder could get there in time and Michihara scored to make it 1-0.
When the game started, we had a lot of fans supposing us, but most of the people there, at least half of the people or more, were Giants fans and were cheering for the Giants. As the game went along, it was getting more and more exciting and the fans were clearly engaged. There was also a change in the way the fans were cheering. We seemed to gain support.
In the sixth inning, the Giants had two runners on with one out and Sadaharu Oh coming up, so we walked Oh to load the bases. The next batter was a right-handed big outfielder named Toshimitsu Suetsugu. He was a formidable player. He hit a ground ball to Oshita at second base who turned it to shortstop Toshiyuki Mimura and Mimura threw it to me to turn the double play to get out of the inning. That was the biggest risk for us in the game. Had we not made that play at least one or two runs might have scored.
Tsuyoshi Oshita
In the ninth inning, things were really pretty tight. The guys on the bench were getting kind of anxious. We had made a pitching change in the eighth inning and brought in Motoyasu Kaneshiro. He had won 20 games the year before, but he got into a car wreck and he didn’t play for a while, so Joe Lutz converted him from a starter into a relief pitcher. He was kind of a submarine pitcher—he wasn’t way down underneath but he was below sidearm, and he threw the ball pretty hard. Well, he led off the ninth inning and checked his swing on a pitch and hit a blooper into right center that dropped for a single. The next batter was Oshita, and Oshita put down one of the best bunts I’ve ever seen. Oshita could run fairly well, and he laid a bunt down the first baseline just like you’re supposed to do. The ball was about three feet off the line and by the time the pitcher and the first baseman got to the ball, Oshita was by them and it was a base hit.
So, with one out and runners on first and second in the ninth inning, they changed pitchers. They brought in this left-hander Kazumi Takahashi. He was their leading left-hand relief pitcher. Mimura came up and Takahashi struck out Mimura on really good pitch.
When I came up, my goal was to try to hit the ball hard somewhere and drive a run in. I wasn’t thinking about anything else. My style of hitting in 1975 was different than I did in the States. In the States, I had a wide stance and basically hit the ball where it was pitched. In Japan, I tried to pull everything. The first pitch he threw was a breaking ball away for a ball. For the second pitch, I was guessing fastball and if I didn’t get it, I would take it. He threw a breaking ball, so I took it for the first strike. Then he threw a fastball, and I checked my swing and it hit my bat for a foul. That really irritated me because it put me in the hole with the pitch count. At this point, my goal was just to put the ball in play. He came back and threw another breaking ball in the dirt.
The Carp fans were clapping the rice spoons together and those things made a lot of noise! Then, Takahashi threw another breaking ball in the dirt [making it a full count]. Now, I knew that he had to throw a strike because if he didn’t, he was going to have to face Koji Yamamoto with the bases loaded. If I wanted a pitch to hit hard, it would be just like his next pitch, inside and around thigh high. And that was it. As they say, “Sayonara Aka-chan!” Of course, that was the ball game right there. When it’s 1-0, the worst hitter on their club could tie the game [with one swing] but now they had to come back and score three.
I, of course, was elated when I hit the ball out. I wasn’t thinking about that because at that point my goal was to make solid contact and just to drive in a run, but he put the ball right there in my wheelhouse. I didn’t over swing and it went all the way to the back of the stadium. It made the tension level in the dugout relax because we had pretty good bullpen and Kaneshiro was really doing well so we were in good shape.
Gail Hopkins celebrates after hitting the 3-run homer
The clubhouses were different [in Japan] from what we have here. We have big clubhouses, where you can get sandwiches and you’ve got all your personal stuff. There, the clubhouses weren’t big. They weren’t sophisticated. They didn’t have a place where you could sit down and have beer when the game was over. The visiting teams would even get dressed in their hotels! So, we didn’t have a big celebration after we clinched, like they do here with champagne or beer. We just went back home to Hiroshima on the train the next day and then we had a big parade.
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. Today Yoichi Nagata, Mark Brunke and Rob Fitts focus on the two Native American baseball tours of Japan which both took place in 1921. This article was selected as a winner of the 2023 McFarland-SABR Baseball Research Award.
In the late nineteenth century as the American frontier closed, the myth of the Wild West began. Buffalo Bill’s Wild West show, dime novels, and, later, Western movies created a fictitious past dominated by stereotypes of cowboys, gunslingers, and Indians. In most of these genres, Native Americans were depicted as exotic, almost non-human, wild and cruel savages. This stereotype proliferated throughout the United States, Europe, and even Japan. Nonetheless, Wild West entertainment became popular throughout the United States and Europe. In 1921 two baseball promoters tried separately to capitalize on this international fad by bringing Native American baseball teams to Japan. But neither tour turned out as planned.
The genesis for these tours took place on the Nebraska plains in 1895 when Guy Wilder Green, a law student at the University of Nebraska and player-manager of the Stromsburg town baseball club, organized a game against the Genoa Indian Industrial School. To his surprise, “Even in Nebraska, where an Indian is not at all a novelty … when the Indians came to Stromsburg, business houses were closed and men, women and children turned out en masse. … I reasoned that if an Indian base ball team was a good drawing card in Nebraska, it ought to do wonders further east if properly managed.” After graduating from law school in 1897, Green created the All-Nebraska Indian Base Ball Team (soon shortened to the Nebraska Indians) which became one of the nation’s most popular barnstorming baseball clubs. From 1897 to 1906 the Nebraska Indians played 1,637 games in 17 states and Canada.
In 1906 much of the United States was enthralled by all things Japanese. Japan had just emerged as the improbable victor in the Russo-Japanese War, and the Waseda University baseball club had recently toured the West Coast. Green decided to capitalize on the fad by creating an all-Japanese baseball club to barnstorm across the Midwest. It became the first Japanese professional team on either side of the Pacific, as pro ball would not come to Japan until 1921.
1906 Advertising Card, Ken Kitsuse Collection, National Baseball Hall of Fame
Although Green would advertise that he had “scour[ed] the [Japanese] empire for the best men obtainable,” he did nothing of the sort. In early 1906 Green instructed Dan Tobey, the Caucasian captain of the Nebraska Indians, to form a team from Japanese immigrants living in California. Led by player-manager Tobey, Green’s Japanese Base Ball Team embarked on a 25-week tour that covered over 2,500 miles through nine Midwestern states as they played about 170 games against town teams and independent clubs. Despite success on the diamond, Green disbanded the club at the end of the season. Two members of the squad, Tozan Masuko and Atsuyoshi “Harry” Saisho, went on to organize their own Japanese barnstorming teams and eventually the Native American tours of Japan.
TOZAN MASUKO AND THE 1921 SUQUAMSSH TOUR
Born in 1881 in the village of Niida in Fukushima Prefecture, Tozan Masuko spent most of his childhood in Tokyo, where he became enamored with the newspaper industry.To further his education, he came to the United States on his own at the age of 14 in 1896. He attended an American high school, where he fell in love with baseball. After graduation, he became a reporter for Shin Sekai in San Francisco before moving to Los Angeles to work for the Rafu Shimpo in 1904. There, he joined the newspaper’s baseball team and accompanied Guy Green’s Japanese Base Ball team during its 1906 barnstorming tour, occasionally filling in as a utility player or umpire.
Tozan Masuko, promoter of the 1921 Suquamish tour
In 1907 the Rafu Shimpo transferred Masuko to Denver, where he decided to create his own professional Japanese barnstorming team. The Mikado’s Japanese Base Ball Team played 22 games in the summer of 1908 in Colorado, Kansas, and Missouri before rain cut its season short. The following year, he teamed with Harry Saisho to organize another barnstorming team called the Japanese Base Ball Association, which planned to tour the Midwest. That tour also failed after just a few games. During both tours, Masuko tried to promote the teams with exaggerations and outright lies, claiming his squads of local immigrants were “composed of the best nine players from the Japanese Empire … picked from the colleges of Japan … straight from the Orient.” Tozan remained in Denver as editor of the Denver Shimpo for nine more years before moving to Salt Lake City to become editor of the Utah Nippo in 1917. By 1920, however, Masuko had moved to Yokohama, Japan. Drawing on his past experience promoting the Mikado’s and JBBA baseball teams, Tozan decided to become a sports promoter. The endeavor did not go well: A tendency to exaggerate and a lack of scruples got in the way.
Masuko began his new career by bringing Ad Santel and Henry Weber to Japan to “test the relative merits of American wrestling with Japanese jujitsu.” Santel, who is still considered one of the greatest “catch wrestlers” of all time, was the reigning world light-heavyweight champion. Since 1914 he had been wrestling Japan’s top judo champions—often defeating them easily. As a result, he was well-known in Japan. Weber, a 6-foot, 200-pound blond who “looked like a Greek god,” was not Santel’s equal on the mat but was nonetheless a renowned wrestler and Santel’s manager.
A large crowd met Santel and Weber on the pier as they arrived in Yokohama on February 26, 1921. Beneath banners bearing the wrestlers’ names in both English and Japanese, kimono-clad girls presented the visitors with wreaths of flowers and bouquets as the crowd cheered “Banzai!” Tozan accompanied the wrestlers to Tokyo, where they would spend the next week preparing for a match against Japan’s experts from the Kodokan Judo Institute—the school created by the sport’s founder, Jigoro Kano.
Although Masuko had arranged for a prominent judo expert to provide opponents for Santel and Weber, he had never contacted the Kodokan itself. Members of the school were outraged when they heard of Masuko’s plans. Kodokan representatives decreed that any student who took part in the match would be expelled, as “the spirit of Bushido prevents … taking part in any professional show of judo.”
Despite the edict, several judo experts accepted the challenge and wrestled Santel and Weber on March 5 and 6 at Yasukuni Shrine. Sellout crowds of 6,000 to 8,000 attended each day, bringing in an estimated 24,000 yen. After the matches, the wrestlers asked for their 35 percent cut of the gate receipts plus reimbursement for their travel expenses. Masuko, however, claimed that the matches had produced a profit of only 196 yen and promised to pay when cash became available. They next went to Nagoya, where Tozan had arranged two more matches. Despite strong attendance, the wrestlers still did not receive their money. A few days later in Osaka, Santel and Weber refused to enter the ring unless they were paid upfront. Masuko coughed up 300 yen and the matches took place. Noting the large crowds, the wrestlers demanded 1,000 yen prior to the third match. After much wrangling, they eventually accepted a check from a local promoter.
The next morning, when Santel presented the check at the bank, he was told that the promoter had no account, making the check worthless. Returning to the Osaka promoter’s office, Santel learned that Masuko and the local promoter “had drawn on the money due to them until there was nothing left.” The American wrestlers searched in vain for Tozan, who had left Osaka and gone into hiding.
A sympathetic judo expert stepped forward and arranged bouts to raise enough money for Santel and Weber to return to the United States. As he left, Santel told reporters, “Our stay in Japan has been very pleasant in some ways, and we will not carry away the impression that everyone here is bad. … There are swindlers everywhere and we just happen to become connected with two in Japan.” Santel and Weber declined to bring charges against Masuko as legal fees and further time in Japan would have been prohibitively expensive.
A few months later, Tozan once again brought athletes to Japan. This time he returned to the sport he loved and planned to bring the first Native American baseball club to Japan. On July 2, 1921, he arrived in Seattle on board the Fushimi Mara. By the first week of August, Masuko was making arrangements for a team of Suquamish Indians, a group of Native Americans from the western shores of Puget Sound, who had been playing baseball since the late nineteenth century, to accompany him back to Japan. How Masuko learned of the Suquamish team is unknown, but the Bremerton Searchlight reported, “In their efforts to secure an all-Indian ball team for the trip, the promoters have tried out practically every Indian ball team on the coast and the fact that the Suquamish team was finally chosen is a considerable boost for the local players.”
Masuko, who said he was a representative of the Sennichitochi Real Estate and Building Corporation of Osaka, claimed the Suquamish were being invited by Meiji University.
Howard Myrick, who ran the Seattle branch of the A.G. Spalding & Brothers sporting-goods company, was responsible for assembling the squad but the exact relationship between Masuko and Spalding is unknown. The Suquamish players believed their contracts were with Spalding, but, to their chagrin, that would not be the case.
On the morning of August 6, 1921, at 10 A.M., Masuko and the Suquamish ballclub boarded the Alabama Mara at Pier 6 in Seattle and sailed for Yokohama. The squad was an amalgamation of teenage outfielders, semipro veterans, and a legendary pitcher who was called “the Chief Bender of the Northwest.” He threw a fastball, a curve, and a signature pitch called the “clam ball” that would rise as it approached the hitter.Accompanying the Suquamish was a semipro team from Ballard, Washington, that had been renamed the Canadian Stars for the Japanese visit.The teams planned to stay in Japan for about two months.
Cover page of a history of the tour produced by the Suquamish tribe
The Canadian Stars and the Suquamish teams were familiar with each other. They met two weeks earlier on July 24, with the Canadian Stars, at that time called the Ballard Merchants, winning, 11-3. The game was started by the main pitchers for both teams. The purveyor of the “clam ball,” 31-year-old Louie George, started for Suquamish, and a future major-league pitcher, 24-year-old Rube Walberg, in a breakout semipro season that would catapult him into professional baseball, started for Ballard. The Suquamish had Arthur Sackman pitching relief and Lawrence Webster was at catcher. The game was previewed in the Seattle Daily Times on July 22, giving us an idea of the perception of the Suquamish style of play: “The Ballard Merchants are going to Suquamish, looking for an easy game, but you never can tell about Indian ball players, as they do not do what is expected of them. In some cases, they break up all kinds of defensive plays by hitting pitch-outs for home runs and making their opponents very uncomfortable.” The Suquamish team was referred to in the same newspaper as being “made up of the best Indian ball players in the Northwest.”
The regular Suquamish team that competed in Seattle area semipro games formed the core of the team that traveled to Japan. Many of their regular players, however, could not travel for two months because of work and stayed home. Enough players stayed behind that the Suquamish had a separate team that continued playing to the end of the semipro season in October.
Seven players on the touring team were members of the Suquamish Tribe: Lawrence “Web” Webster, 22 years old, catcher and outfielder; Charles Thompson, 28, third base and shortstop; Harold “Monte” Belmont, 18, outfield; Roy Loughrey, 20, outfield; Woody Loughrey, 17, outfield; Richard Temple, 18, center field and utility; and Arthur Sackman, 17, outfield and pitcher. The five younger players had experience playing baseball at Indian boarding schools.
Needing to supplement the core of the Suquamish club, the team brought along Louie George and four nonnative players—known as “boomers.” The 31-year-old George was a member of the Port Gamble S’Klallam Tribe and, according to the Seattle Daily Times, “is the star of the team. This pitcher is a veteran of many tight pitching duels with Seattle hurlers, having played with Indian teams for years. He also is a heavy slugger and a good outfielder.” Having lost the end of his thumb in a motorcycle accident, George threw an unusual pitch he called a “clam ball.” His nephew Ted George remembered, “It was a pitch that rolled off a shortened thumb at a unique angle … rising as it approached the batter. … It befuddled hitters … and when mixed with a blazing fastball and killer curve became stuff of legend.”
The nonnative “boomers” were 31-year-old Lee “Bill” Rose, first base, catcher, and utility, who became the team’s captain; 27-year-old Roy “Cannon Ball” Woolsey, pitcher, outfield, and coach; 27-year-old James C. Smith, second base; and 23-year-old John Lukanovic, outfield, first base, and pitcher. All four were longtime Northwest Coast semipro players.
Woody Loughrey recalled that during the 16-day trip to Japan, the squad “worked out on the ship, out on the open deck. See it got pretty rough all right” and on “the better days, why, we worked out up there playing catch and running up and down the deck.” Lawrence Webster added, “[T]hat continued rise and fall of those boats itself was awful monotonous, so we started playing catch on the boat. And we started out with about three dozen baseballs so we could keep our arms in shape. By the time we got over there, we had two, just two, not two dozen. That’s all we had [the rest went overboard]. So we hung on to those two and we got over, and we got some new ones that was made over in that country. And there was quite a bit of difference in the baseball. While the size was practically the same, theirs was dead, you’d hit it and it wouldn’t go very far.”
The two clubs arrived in Yokohama on the steamer Alabama at noon on August 22,1921. The Suquamish immediately went to their inn to change into uniforms and then to the Yokohama Park Grounds to practice. “A big gathering of Japanese fans” waited at the park “to give the invading teams an enthusiastic welcome … and to watch their every movement with bat and glove.” The clubs were expected to stay in Japan for two months, playing collegiate teams in Tokyo and touring the country.
Promoter Tozan Masuko bragged to reporters that he had a big tour planned and that his powerful Native American squad would battle against the top Japanese teams. “The tour would start in Tokyo against Meiji University, and then the Indians will play Waseda, Keio, Hosei and Rikkyo Universities, Mita and Tomon Clubs and others. After the Tokyo series, they will go to the Tohoku region with Meiji University, playing in Fukushima, Morioka, Hokkaido, Niigata, and Nagaoka before heading to Kansai for games against Daimai and Star Clubs and other teams. Though depending on circumstances, they are eager to barnstorm even in Shikoku, Kyushu, Manchuria and Korea.”
But none of this was true. Meiji University had neither committed to sponsor the tour nor travel with the visitors to Tohoku. In fact, Masuko had not arranged any games and would put together the schedule on the fly.
Continue to read the full article on the SABR website
At the end of 2007, the Lotte Giants needed a breakthrough to end their long slump. The team’s performance was declining, and fans’ frustration was mounting. At that time, Bobby Valentine, who was managing the Chiba Lotte Marines in Japan, was asked by Lotte’s ownership to recommend a new manager. Without hesitation, Valentine introduced his longtime friend, Jerry Royster.
Arriving in Busan, Royster became the first foreign manager in KBO history. A utility player who spent 16 years in Major League Baseball moving between the infield and outfield, he took on the Korean stage after retiring as a player and working as a coach and minor league manager. At that time, the idea of a foreign skipper was almost unthinkable, and the Korean baseball world viewed it with both curiosity and concern.When the 2008 season began, a new scene unfolded at Sajik Baseball Stadium in Busan. With the slogan “No Fear,” Lotte declared an aggressive brand of baseball under its new manager. Fans quickly embraced the American leader, calling him simply “Royster” instead of the formal “manager.” Beyond nationality, the very fact that a foreigner was officially holding the reins of a KBO team was a symbolic milestone.
Royster stayed in Korea for only three years, but in that short time he left an indelible mark on the team and its fans. For years, Lotte had been mockingly nicknamed “8888577.” This number string represented their final standings from 2001 to 2007, mostly finishing dead last (8th place) in the eight-team league. Among fans, “8888577” became shorthand for failure and despair.
But everything changed after Royster took over in 2008. Though Lotte never won a championship under him, the team reached the postseason three years in a row. A club long accustomed to losing now had the confidence that “we can win.” At a time when team identities in Korean baseball were fading, Lotte regained a strong identity: a team that fought until the last out, one that played bold, attacking baseball.
After contract renewal talks broke down in 2010, Lotte fans raised funds themselves to publish a newspaper ad supporting manager Royster: ‘Why Not Royster?’
The Philosophy of Fearless Play
Royster’s baseball philosophy could be summed up in two words: “No Fear.” He valued bold attempts over results. Hitters were encouraged to swing aggressively, runners to take the extra base, and pitchers to trust their decisive pitch without shrinking back.
This message, “don’t be afraid of failure,” stood in sharp contrast to the conservative, risk-averse approach typical of the KBO then, leaving a strong impression. Players experienced new freedom, and fans delighted in the refreshing style of play. “No Fear” became more than a slogan; it fused with Busan’s passionate cheering culture and grew into a symbol.
His leadership also broke from the authoritarian style common in Korea. He shared emotions with players in the dugout and greeted fans first after games, rare sights in the KBO then. Rather than stressing authority, he emphasized communication and empathy. Asked “Who is the best player?” he always answered, “Every player is a good player.”While ordinary in the U.S., this philosophy was a fresh shock in Korea. In a culture of hierarchy, his trust-based, autonomy-driven style gave players a sense of ownership. That’s why players like Sung-hwan Jo, Dae-ho Lee, and Jae-gyun Hwang later called him a “mentor.”
Royster became more than a figure in the dugout, he was tied to Korean society. Even after he left in 2010, whenever a managerial change loomed, the phrase “like Royster again” resurfaced in media and fan discussions.
The “No Fear” mantra became a cultural keyword shared across Korean baseball fandom. Even today, his name resurfaces in charity games, broadcasts, and YouTube interviews. At the 2024 Hope Plus Charity Baseball Game in Sajik Stadium, he returned as honorary manager, greeted with roaring applause as he once again shared the “No Fear” spirit. For fans, Royster remains a living presence, not just a figure of the past.
Royster’s presence also influenced Korean society. Until the late 2000s, racially discriminatory expressions against Black people were often used casually in Korea. In 2008, a player posted a racial slur aimed at Royster on his personal SNS, which immediately sparked backlash. Unlike in the past, when such things might have been brushed aside, this time the player had to issue a public apology, because Royster was respected not just as a coach but as a leader.
From that moment, such remarks were no longer tolerable. His presence became a real-life lesson for Korean baseball in diversity and respect, fostering an attitude of evaluating a leader beyond race.
Royster’s impact continues today. Lotte has gone through many managers since, but every era is still compared to “the Royster years.” A style of baseball where players and fans breathe together and play fearlessly, that philosophy lives on as a benchmark beyond wins and losses. His name remains a reminder not of mere nostalgia, but of the direction Korean baseball should strive toward.
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. Today John Harney focuses on the 1920 major league tour of Japan..
It began with big dreams and ended in chaos and farce. The 1920 tour was a lot of things all at once: a high profile, all-star tour that served as a diplomatic mission to engender positive relationships between two rising global powers, the United States and the Empire of Japan; a largely successful business enterprise planned and carried out by experienced entrepreneurs; and a debacle that saw a baseball tour with high hopes collapse in acrimony and accusations of skullduggery. Certainly, it was not boring.
The first mentions of the tour in the American press started to show up in the late spring and early summer of 1920. California-based sports promoter Gene Doyle was promising big things. Specifically, Doyle sought to take an all-star team to Japan to play in exhibition games against local teams. Boasting the cream of the American professional ranks, the tour would feature teams representing each of the major leagues. Doyle had successfully persuaded Buck Weaver, star third baseman of an impressive Chicago White Sox team that had rather surprisingly lost to the Cincinnati Reds in the World Series the season before, to lead the group to Japan.
It was not solely an American enterprise. Doyle was in partnership with two Japanese businessmen, Yumindo Kushibiki and Tommy Tominaga. Kushibiki was by this time a well-known figure in the United States, known as the “Japanese Exhibition King” for his work in introducing the American public to Japanese cultural artifacts at the Columbian Exposition at Chicago in 1893 and, closer in proximity to the 1920 tour, the Panama-Pacific International Exposition of 1915 in San Francisco. Tominaga was more of an obscure figure, an “Americanized Japanese” who had attended high school in Los Angeles but graduated from Waseda University, a bright star in both Japan’s academic and baseball worlds. In truth, he was a fairly minor player who succeeded in establishing himself as a go-between for Kushibiki and Doyle, but his involvement helped give credence to the feasibility of a tour to Japan and lent the endeavor an air of cultural exchange as an act of American generosity.
The advantages of the tour seemed clear enough, at least to Doyle, who utilized a network of contacts in the California press to hype up interest. The visit of John McGraw and Charles Comiskey’s World Tour to Japan in 1913 gave sufficient precedent, and Doyle and his fellow organizers sang all the right notes. This tour would deepen friendship between the two countries, and also allow the Americans to assist their fellow baseball people in Japan to kick-start professional baseball in that country. The commercial advantages also appeared to be evident and the American papers, long since used to the reality of barnstorming and offseason financial opportunities for baseball players, naturally went along in those assumptions.
From the start, then, Doyle’s tour—and in the months to come and in the years since it would come to be associated primarily with its central organizer and promoter more than any of the players—was a hybrid of naked commercial interest and a somewhat ambivalent commitment to deepening cultural ties across the Pacific and facilitating a natural leadership position for the United States in the growth of the game across the world. Doyle had big plans; but it wasn’t to be.
For one thing, Weaver did not join them. Embroiled in the growing Black Sox scandal of the fall of 1920, he dropped out of the tour. He had been the big draw, the biggest name attached to the tour on the day of its announcement. Doyle had intended for Weaver to serve as captain of the AL team and de facto head of the playing squad as a whole. Initially, this had seemingly been successful: By July, Doyle was able to claim that Weaver had helped in signing a host of major leaguers, including St. Louis Browns first baseman George Sisler, Detroit Tigers catcher Eddie Ainsmith, and Weaver’s White Sox teammate Happy Felsch. Tominaga and others talked a big game indeed, happily comparing the coming tour to the around-the-world Giants-White Sox Tour of 1913. It was not to be. Ainsmith, however, stuck with Doyle, and along with Sam Bohne, a Seattle Indian about to begin a career with the Cincinnati Reds in 1921, formed the core leadership of the team. The other big names evaporated.
The rest of the purportedly all-star group was made up of players from the Pacific Coast League, many of whom had a veneer of legitimacy by having had a cup of coffee in the majors. Outfielder Herbert Harrison Hunter had played a handful of games over the years with the New York Giants, the Chicago Cubs, and most recently the Boston Red Sox. Jack Sheehan had appeared briefly for the Brooklyn Robins. One player, catcher Everett Gomes, was so unknown, even to the press on the West Coast, that in reports on the tour they would refer to him simply as “Catcher Gomes.” Still Doyle persevered. Early plans of a tour around California were scrapped, and they moved to head directly to East Asia with a brief stopover in Honolulu.
The Hawaiian reception to the tour was enthusiastic. The local lodge of Elks served as hosts and sponsors of the team, and, expecting a dawn arrival, planned to treat the visitors to a sightseeing trip by automobile around Honolulu, followed by a formal lunch and a game later in the afternoon. The Hawaiian hosts got their game—Ainsmith led the AL team to victory over the NL players—but in the end the tourists stopped by the islands for only a few hours. The players returned to the S.S. Korea shortly after and were soon on their way. Doyle was on a high. “So far the trip has been a success,” he wrote to the Los Angeles Express’s Harry Grayson, painting a pretty picture. The players were all in good spirits: Ainsmith was living up to his role of tour captain well, “[f]ull of pepper and keeps the [players] hustling.” Bohne was growing a mustache, and another PCL veteran, Portland Beaver Sammy Ross, was doing a bang-up job running the Filipino band on the entertainment committee. Doyle wanted to be very clear: All was well. So united were the boys, in fact, that to a man they were livid with Minneapolis Millers infielder Carl Sawyer, the latest player to drop out. “[W]hat the gang thinks of him isn’t fit for print,” Doyle told Grayson.
This merry band arrived in Japan ready for anything and everything. The Japanese baseball world gave it to them. The visit, coming in late November and December in the offseason between fall and spring collegiate seasons, was primed for the attention of an enthusiastic and knowledgeable baseball-loving public. Baseball in Japan by 1920 was continuing to grow, with increasingly sophisticated youth and collegiate baseball infrastructures but a still-nascent professional scene. Excitement for the visit of the Americans was high. The Osaka Mainichi Shimbun reported on the anticipated arrival of the team on November 22, scheduled at 3:30 P.M. on the S.S. Korea. The article showcased large photographic inserts featuring a number of the players, including the aforementioned Carl Sawyer. News of Sawyer’s “treachery” had not yet reached the Japanese editors. The Americans themselves were ready for Japan, the paper said that they had been “swinging bats and leaping about the deck” of the ship in anticipation of landfall near Tokyo.
The opening game in Japan, a competition between teams representing the AL and the NL to fit the tour’s billing as an all-star tour from the major leagues, took place on November 25. The occasion had actually been delayed two days by rain, despite Doyle and Kushibiki’s original intention for the players to get to work almost as soon as they made landing in Japan, perhaps taking to the field on the day of arrival. Nevertheless, the opening exhibition was a success. The NL came out 2-1 winners, but Ainsmith was heralded as the big star, blasting the only home run of the game.
The Americans played their first game against Japanese collegiate opposition the next day. Waseda University was home to arguably the most prestigious baseball program in Japan. Waseda had played the first intercollegiate varsity baseball game in the country, a 1903 contest vs. Keio University. By 1920, Waseda was one of six major college teams. In 1924, these teams would formally come together to compete annually in the “Big Six League”; but already the universities played each other in a de facto annual championship with fall and spring seasons. The All-American team faced four collegiate teams in total: Waseda, Keio, Meiji University, and Hosei University. This represented the top tier of Japanese baseball talent, the best-drilled, and—despite their youth—the most competitively seasoned.
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