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  • The Bums in the Land of the Rising Sun: How the 1956 Dodgers’ Tour of Japan Marked the End of a Dynasty

    The Bums in the Land of the Rising Sun: How the 1956 Dodgers’ Tour of Japan Marked the End of a Dynasty

    by Robert Fitts

    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 Rob Fitts focuses on the Brooklyn Dodgers 1956 tour of Japan where Jackie Robinson played his final game.

    The Brooklyn Dodgers straggled into Idlewild Airport in Jamaica, Queens, on the morning of October 11, 1956. It had been a long, grueling season, ending the day before with a 9-0 shellacking by the Yankees in the seventh game of the World Series. Now, less than 18 hours later, the Dodgers were leaving for a four- week goodwill tour of Japan.

    The subdued party of 60 consisted of club officials, players, family members, and an umpire. Although participation was voluntary, most of the team’s top players had decided to take advantage of the $3,000 bonus that came with the all-expenses-paid trip.1 Noticeably absent were Sandy Koufax, who was sharpening his game in Puerto Rico; Sandy Amoros, who was playing in Cuba; and World War II vet Carl Furillo who proclaimed, “I want no part of it. I’ve seen Japan once and there’s nothing there I want to see again.”2

    As they readied to board the private flight to Los Angeles, Don Newcombe and his wife were missing. The Dodgers ace had won 27 games during the season and would win both the National League Most Valuable Player and Cy Young Awards. But he had failed spectacularly in the World Series, getting knocked out in the second inning of Game Two, and in the fourth inning of Game Seven. When asked about the up-coming trip after the Game Seven loss, Newcombe snapped, “Nuts to the trip to Japan!” “There’ll be trouble if he’s not on that plane!” countered Dodgers General Manager Buzzie Bavasi.3

    Just after 11 A.M. the big pitcher arrived at the airport without wife or luggage. “The Tiger is here!” he announced as he boarded. He had spent the morning at the Brooklyn Courthouse to answer a summons on an assault charge for punching a parking attendant who had made a wisecrack about his Game Two performance. The plane left on time and after a stop in Los Angeles arrived in Honolulu at 5:30 P.M. on October 12.4

    The Dodgers spent five days in Hawaii, attending banquets, sightseeing, sunbathing on Waikiki Beach, and playing three games against local semipro teams. As expected, Brooklyn won the first two contests comfortably, beating the Maui All-Stars, 6-0, behind 20-year-old Don Drysdale’s seven perfect innings on October 13 and the Hawaii Milwaukee All-Stars, 19-0, the next day. On the 15th, Don Newcombe took the mound against the Hawaii Red Sox. Spectators serenaded him with boos and jeers as the Red Sox scored three times in the second inning and chased him from the game in the fourth. “I can’t believe that I am still the target for abuse after getting 5,000 miles away from Brooklyn. I never want to come back here again! I didn’t want to make this trip in the first place,” he complained after Brooklyn pulled out a 7-3 win in the 10th inning. “This abuse thing has me worried,” he added. “I am afraid the emotional effect might continue to grow and become a detriment to my future career.”5 After a day of sightseeing, the Dodgers left for Japan on a 10 P.M. overnight flight.

    The plane touched down at Tokyo’s Haneda Airport at 3:25 P.M. the following day, five hours behind schedule after mechanical trouble forced a seemingly endless stopover on Wake Island. A light rain fell from the gray sky. The weary players trudged off the plane and down the metal stairs to the tarmac where they were greeted by the first group of dignitaries and reporters. “Man, we’re beat,” Jackie Robinson complained as he left the plane. “We are all very tired,” Duke Snider added, “but we’re glad to be here. If we have a chance to shower and clean up, we’ll feel much better.”6

    Japanese dignitaries and 40 kimono-clad actresses, bearing bouquets of flowers, welcomed the Dodgers as a crowd of fans waved from the airport’s spectator ramp. During a brief press conference, team owner Walter O’Malley proclaimed that “his players would play their best … and hoped that the visit would contribute to Japanese-American friendship.” “We hope to give the Japanese fans some thrills,” said Robinson.7

    Despite the delay and relentless drizzle, thousands of flag-waving fans lined the 12-mile route from Haneda Airport to downtown Tokyo. Although many of the players longed for a shower, a warm meal, and a soft bed, they would not see their hotel for hours. After a brief stop at the Yomiuri newspaper’s headquarters, the team went straight to a reception at the famous Chinzanso restaurant. As they arrived, the hosts presented each visitor with a happi coat made to resemble a Dodgers warmup jacket and a hachimaki (traditional headband). Dressed in their new garb, the Dodgers mingled with baseball officials, diplomats, and Japanese ballplayers for several hours. Exhausted, the Dodgers finally checked into the Imperial Hotel around 9 P.M. Some of the younger players, however, went back out, attending “a giddy round of parties” before staggering back to the hotel in the wee hours of the morning.8

    Fred Kipp, Gil Hodges, Wally Yonamine, Vin Scully, Roy Campanella and Don Demeter at the October 18 reception at Chinzanso, Tokyo. (Rob Fitts Collection)

    Weary from the trip and the late night, the players struggled to get out of bed the next morning for the opening game against the Yomiuri Giants at Korakuen Stadium. Ceremonies began at 1 P.M. with the two teams parading onto the field in parallel lines behind a pair of young women clad in fashionable business suits. Each woman held a large sign topped with balloons, bearing the team’s name in Japanese. As the Giants marched on the field, some of the Dodgers gaped in surprise. “We went over there with typical American misconceptions,” Vin Scully later wrote. “We expected the local teams to be stocked with little yellow, bucktooth men wearing thick eyeglasses. When they first walked onto the field in Tokyo, I heard one of our players yell, ‘Hey fellas, we’ve been mousetrapped!’ One of the first ballplayers out of the dugout was a pitcher who was six feet four. … They averaged five feet ten or so, and they were all built like athletes.”9

    Like the Dodgers, the Yomiuri Giants had just finished an exhausting season topped with a defeat in the Japan Series two days earlier. The Japan Timesnoted, “The Giants, battered and worn in their losing bid for the Japan championship …, are regarded as a pushover for the Bums. The Brooklyn club is expected to win their opener by a margin of over ten runs.”10 But that is not what happened.

    The Giants jumped out to a quick 3-0 lead off Don Drysdale. At 6-feet-5 he towered over most of his Japanese opponents and expected to dominate them with his overpowering side-arm fastball. But as Scully noted, “Another misconception we had was that our big pitchers would be able to blow them down with fastballs. We were dead wrong. They murdered fastball pitching. Our guys would rear back and fire one through here and invariably the ball would come back even harder than it was thrown. They hit bullets.”11

    Brooklyn battled back to take a 4-3 lead in the fourth on five hits, including homers by Robinson and Gil Hodges. But that would be all for Brooklyn as relief pitcher Takumi Otomo, who had beaten the New York Giants in 1953, stifled the Dodgers for 5 2/3 innings. Homers by Kazuhiko Sakazaki and Tetsuharu Kawakami in the eighth gave Yomiuri a 5-4 upset victory. “The fans,” wrote Leslie Nakashima of the Honolulu Advertiser, “could hardly believe the Dodgers had been beaten.”12 Otomo had struck out 10 in his second win over a major-league team.

    Since the major-league tours began in 1908, the game was just the fifth victory by a Japanese team against 124 loses.13 After the loss, manager Walt Alston made no excuses, “They just beat us. They hit and we didn’t.” Duke Snider had a particularly bad day, striking out three times and being caught off base for an out. “We’re pretty tired,” he explained. “But that’s no excuse. We’re all in good physical shape and should have won. A good night’s sleep tonight and we’ll roll.” “We’ll snap out of it,” predicted Robinson. Pee Wee Reese agreed: “We don’t expect to lose any more. But,” he added, “we didn’t expect to lose this one either.”14

    As predicted, the Dodgers bounced back the next day. Masaichi Kaneda, recognized by most experts as Japan’s all-time greatest pitcher, began the game for the Central League All-Stars by loading the bases on two walks and a single before being removed from the game with a sore elbow. Roy Campanella greeted relief pitcher Noboru Akiyama with a towering drive into the last row of the left-field bleachers to put the Dodgers up, 4-0. Campy added another home run in the third inning to pace Brooklyn to an easy 7-1 victory as Clem Labine pitched a four-hit complete game.15

    On Sunday, October 21, approximately 45,000 fans packed Korakuen Stadium to watch Don Newcombe face the All-Japan team—a conglomeration of the top Japanese professionals. Newcombe’s outing lasted just 17 pitches. He began by walking Hawaiian Wally Yonamine, then surrendered a home run and three consecutive singles before Alston took the ball.16 The former ace “stormed from the hill” and stumbled into the clubhouse “like a sleepwalker … jerkily, almost aimlessly. He wore the frozen expression of a kid who’s just seen his puppy run over. Wonder, shock, disbelief, hurt. Pinch me, I’m dreaming. … Slowly he picked up his shower shoes, detoured a sportswriter to get to his jacket. Then out the back door, back to the hotel.”17

    After the eventual 6-1 loss, manager Walter Alston noted, “Newk wasn’t right again today. … He’s not throwing natural.”18 Reese explained, “He’s still got it (the World Series) on his mind. It’s getting to be a terrible thing. Not only does he feel he’s letting himself down, he feels he’s letting the club down. … Don doesn’t say much, but it’s building up and building up inside him. It could run him out of baseball.”19

    Unfortunately, Reese’s assessment was prophetic. The next day, Newcombe announced that he had injured his elbow in the final game of the regular season. It hurt to throw curveballs. He had kept the injury to himself, hoping that rest would cure the ailment. Although his arm may have healed, Newcombe never fully recovered from the psychological injury of the blown 1956 World Series. He had begun drinking heavily in the early 1950s and his alcohol abuse intensified after the loss. After a mediocre 1957 season, he was traded to Cincinnati in 1958 and would be out of the major leagues after the 1960 season. He played his final season with the Chunichi Dragons of Japan in 1962—coached by Wally Yonamine, who had begun the onslaught on that fateful day in Tokyo.

    With the loss, the Dodgers became the first professional American club to lose two games on a Japanese tour. Criticism came from both sides of Pacific. “The touring Flatbushers once again were disemboweled by a band of local samurai,” wrote Bob Bowie of the Japan Times.20 “The Dodgers are known for their fighting spirit,” noted radio quiz-show host Ko Fujiwara, “but they have shown little spirit in the games here thus far.”21 The Associated Press reported that “most Japanese fans have been disappointed in the caliber of ball played so far by the Brooklyns,” but Yoshio Yuasa, the former manager of the Mainichi Orions, offered the harshest criticisms.22 “I can sympathize that the Dodgers are in bad condition from fatigue after a hectic pennant race, the World Series and travel to Japan and that they are in a terrific slump, but they are even weaker than was rumored at bat against low, outside pitches and we are very disappointed to say the least. … It would not be an overstatement to say that we no longer have anything to learn from the Dodgers.”23

    Roy Campanella, Jakie Robinson, and Duke Snider signing autographs for Japanese fans. Cappy Harada is in the dugout. (Rob Fitts Collection)

    The US media picked up these criticisms, reprinting the stories in large and small newspapers across the country. “Japanese Baseball Expert Hints Brooks Are Bums,” screamed a headline in the New York Daily News on October 23.24 Three days later, a Daily News headline noted, “Bums ‘Too Dignified,’ Say Japanese Hosts.” The accompanying article explained that some Japanese experts believed that the Dodgers were “too quiet and dignified on the playing field … and … were acting like they were all trying to win good conduct medals” rather than playing hard-nosed baseball.25

    After a day of rest, the Dodgers flew to Sapporo in northern Japan for a rematch against the Yomiuri Giants. Before the game, Walter O’Malley addressed the team. Starting pitcher Carl Erskine recalled, “Mr. O’Malley was very upset. He thought it was a scar on the name of the Dodgers to have gone to Japan and lost two games.”26 “He was embarrassed. He held a team meeting and read the riot act. He said, ‘I know this is a goodwill tour and I want you to be gentlemen. Sign autographs and be cordial. However, when you put on that Dodger uniform, I want you to remember Pearl Harbor!’”27

    Erskine was near perfect, giving up three hits and a walk but never allowing a runner to reach second base as he faced just 27 batters. But the Dodgers continued to struggle at the plate, failing to score until Duke Snider led off the ninth inning with a 380-foot homer over the right-center-field wall to give Brooklyn a 1-0 victory.28

    Despite the win, many Japanese were not pleased with the Dodgers’ performance. An Associated Press article noted that Tokuro Konishi, a broadcaster and former manager, “and other experts agreed that most Japanese fans have been disappointed in the caliber of ball played so far by the Brooklyns. … Konishi said he believed the two losses could be chalked up to the fatigue from the grueling National League pennant race and seven game World Series.”29 “The Dodgers’ ‘old men’ are tired,” noted Bob Bowie of the Pacific Stars and Stripes. “Pee Wee Reese and Jackie Robinson and Gil Hodges and Duke Snider and Roy Campanella are so weary it’s an effort for them to put one foot before another. It’s been a long season and they are anxious to get back home and relax before heading for spring training in February.”30

    Indeed, the “Boys of Summer” were aging. The core of the team had been together nearly a decade. The starting lineup averaged 32 years old with Robinson and Reese both at 37. Their weariness showed on the playing field. After four games, the team was hitting just .227 against Japanese pitching. Both management and fans knew it was time to change, and the team had plenty of young talent. At the top of the list were power hitters Don Demeter, who hit 41 home runs in 1956 for the Texas League Fort Worth Cats, and his teammate, first baseman Jim Gentile, who hit 40. Outfielder Gino Cimoli had ridden Brooklyn’s bench in 1956 and was now ready for a more substantial role. Smooth-fielding Bob Lillis from the Triple-A affiliate in St. Paul seemed to be the heir of Pee Wee Reese at shortstop while his teammate Bert Hamric would fight for a role in team’s crowded outfield. On the mound, knuckleballer Fred Kipp hadjust won 20 games for the Montreal Royals and looked ready to join Brooklyn’s rotation. The tour of Japan was an ideal chance try out these players. As the tour progressed, Alston moved more prospects into the starting lineup.

    In the fifth game, held in Sendai, Alston gave Kipp the start and backed him up with Gentile at first, Demeter in center and Cimoli in left. For seven innings Kipp baffled the All-Kanto All-Stars, a squad drawn from the Tokyo-area teams, with his knuckleball—a pitch rarely used in the Japanese leagues, while the hurler’s fellow rookies racked up five hits during an easy 8-0 win.31

    Don Drysdale started game six in Mita, a small city about 60 miles northeast of Tokyo. For seven innings the promising young pitcher dominated the Japanese. Then, the Japanese erupted for three runs in the bottom of the eighth inning, breaking a streak of 29 straight shutout innings by Dodger pitching. With the scored tied, 3-3, after nine innings, the Dodgers requested that they end the game so that the team could catch their scheduled train back to Tokyo.32 Although it was not a win, an Associated Press writer called the result “a moral victory for Japanese baseball.”33 After six contests, the National League champions were 3-2-1—the worst record of any visiting American professional squad.

    Despite the Dodgers’ poor start, the Japanese fans adored the team packed with household names. About 150,000 spectators attended the first five games while hundreds of thousands more, if not millions, watched the games on television or listened to them on the radio.34 “There is widespread interest in the Dodgers and their style of play,” an Associated Press article noted. All of the sports dailies and many of the mainstream newspapers covered each game in detail—often including exclusive interviews and pictorial spreads of the players. Many dailies ran “sequence shots of various Dodgers in action.”35

    Although the Dodgers were winning over the Japanese fans, their opponents on the diamond were unimpressed. Ace pitcher Masaichi Kaneda noted, “The pitchers this time were not as good as [on the previous major-league tours]. … On the bench, I was looking forward to hitting. I had never had that feeling before.”36 Shortstop Yasumitsu Toyoda agreed: “Even their fastballs didn’t look fast enough.”37 Kazuhiro Yamauchi, the star outfielder for the Mainichi Orions who hit .313 in 48 at-bats during the tour, complained that the Dodgers lacked hustle. “The Yankees [during the 1955 tour] would always try for an extra base on a hit, while some Dodger runners stopped dead.”38 Yamauchi also noted that the Dodgers had trouble with low, outside pitches. “All our pitches have been aiming for the outside comer.” Yomiuri right-hander Takehiko Bessho added, “Most of them were not good at hitting curveballs. …I wasn’t [even] scared of Campanella. He looked huge, but only he could hit in one spot … the high inside corner. … If an umpire called [a low outside pitch] a strike, he complained. He was just desperate.”39

    During a November 11 round-table interview moderated by Masanori Ochi, several Japanese players bristled when asked about a training session run by Dodgers coach Al Campanis. Campanis was actively promoting his book, The Dodgers’ Way to Play Baseball, which had been translated into Japanese. “We attended it, but we already knew ‘how to throw a slider,’” Tetsuharu Kawakami snidely told Ochi. “They only told us what we already knew. I think we practice small tactics more than they do.” “Al Campanis only talked about general things,” Takehiko Bessho added, “and nothing was new.”40

    Oblivious to the Japanese players’ feelings, after the tour Campanis told Dan Daniels of The Sporting News, “For the good of Japanese ball, it would be well to send several American coaching staffs there for the purpose of staging clinics rather than having a different team visit each year. Of course, that wouldn’t be the sort of spectacle the fans would want, but it would be more helpful to the progress of Japanese ball. We held one clinic while we were over there, and I never had a more attentive audience. They want to learn our methods and a few clinics would help them tremendously.”41

    Underwhelmed by the Dodgers, some of the Japanese players began to jeer their opponents. The Dodgers were undoubtedly unaware as the “rudeness” consisted mainly of addressing the visitors by their first names—an offensive act in Japan, especially in the mid-1950s. The players confessed during the November 11 round table interview:

    Yasumitsu Toyoda: (Looking at Kaneda,) Remember you jeered at him [Newcombe] in Mito, something like ‘Come on, Don!’ He was offended by that.

    Masaichi Kaneda: We became good at jeering. Our pronunciation became better.

    Takehiko Bessho: You [Kaneda] were best at it. You called the first baseman [Gino] Cimoli, ‘Gino, Gino,’ and he turned and smiled at you. When the game is over, you were like ‘Goodbye Gino.’

    Masaichi Kaneda: ‘Come on, Don’ was a good one!

    Masanori Ochi: Did you jeer at the other major leaguers like the Yankees?

    Masaichi Kaneda: No, we just did it this year.

    Takehiko Bessho: That was because we were winning.

    Masaichi Kaneda: Alright, I will say ‘Hey Don!’ to his face. If he gets angry, I will hide quickly!42

    Undoubtedly sensing the players’ distain, Fujio Nakazawa, a commentator and future member of the Japan Baseball Hall of Fame, cautioned his countrymen. “The two victories over the Dodgers should be no reason for jubilation among the players here. They should by no means become conceited. Japanese ballplayers have much to learn from the Dodgers, who have not complained about their busy schedule which started the day after their arrival. The Dodger players are always cheerful and play hard. A defeat does not discourage them.”43

    Perhaps sparked by the ongoing criticism, perhaps finally rested, the Dodgers began winning in late October as the rookies led the way. On October 27 in Kofu, Gentile hit two home runs and Demeter and Cimoli each hit one during a 12-1 romp over an allstar squad of players drawn from the Tokyo-area professional teams. The next day, Gentile went 5-for-5 with another home run as the Dodgers beat All-Japan, 6-3, in Utsunomiya.44 On October 31 Kipp pitched two-hit ball and Gentile and Demeter each homered to pace Brooklyn to a 4-2 win over All-Japan. During these games the players began showing a little fighting spirit. Somehow, they learned the Japanese word “mekura,” meaning “blind,” and began shouting it at the umpire after questionable calls.45

    “Some of those ballparks were small, [holding] 20,000 or 25,000,” Carl Erskine remembers. “There were acres of bicycles in the parking lots. After the games were over, the men were all lined up along the ditch by the side of the road relieving themselves. I guess they had a couple of beers. So, it was a little unusual leaving the ballpark and passing rows and rows of men. That was a strange sight!”46

    On the evening of October 31, the team arrived in Hiroshima and checked into the Hotel New Hiroshima, an ultra-modem structure near the Peace Park and ballpark. Local officials warned the players not to leave the hotel unescorted at night as gang-related crime made the area unsafe for tourists. The following morning the team visited the Peace Park and posed with their hats in their hands in front of the Memorial Cenotaph, the saddle-shaped concrete arch that bears the name of each person killed in the atomic bomb blast.

    In a solemn ceremony before the start of the 2 P.M. game, the Dodgers presented city officials with a bronze plaque reading: “We dedicate this visit in memory of those baseball fans and others who died by atomic action on Aug. 6, 1945. May their souls rest in peace and with God’s help and man’s resolution peace will prevail forever, amen.”47

    Walter O’Malley, Walt Alston, and Yomiuri Giants manager Shigeru Mizuhara. (Rob Fitts Collection)

    Walter O’Malley, Walt Alston, and Yomiuri Giants manager Shigeru Mizuhara. (Rob Fitts Collection)

    The emotion from the morning boiled over during the game against the Kansai All-Stars. In the bottom of the third inning with the Japanese already up 1-0 and one out and a runner on second, future Hall of Fame umpire Jocko Conlon called Kohei Sugiyama safe at first on what looked to be a groundout. Incensed, Jackie Robinson walked over to first to protest the call. “Everybody knew Jocko had missed the play because he was in back of the plate and couldn’t see clearly,” Robinson explained.48 Conlon, of course, did not reverse his decision so Robinson persisted, eventually arguing “so loud and so long” that Conlon tossed him from the game. “I never told him how to play ball,” Conlon said after the game, “and he, or anybody else, can’t tell me how to run a ball game.”49

    Kansai padded its lead to 4-1 before Brooklyn tied the game in the sixth on Roy Campanella’s three-run homer. The Dodgers went ahead in the seventh in a bizarre inning. After recording an out, reliever Yukio Shimabara walked Jim Gilliam, who stole second base and then moved to third on a passed ball. Shimabara then walked both Reese and Snider. With the bases loaded, Campanella fouled out to the catcher. Gilliam decided to take matters into his own hands. With two outs and the bases still jammed, he stole home to give the Dodgers the 5-4 lead. Rattled, Shimabara then made a mistake to Jim Gentile, who pounded the ball into the stands for a three-run homer. Brooklyn tacked on another two in the ninth for a 10-6 victory.50

    After the Dodgers won 14-0 on November 2, the Japanese squads rebounded. On the 3rd the Dodgers and the All-Japan team entered the eighth inning knotted 7-7 before Brooklyn erupted for another seven to win 14-7. The following day, Japanese aces Takehiko Bessho and Masaichi Kaneda held the Dodgers to just one run for eight innings as the hosts entered the ninth leading 2-1. The Dodgers rallied in the ninth as Snider led off with a 480-foot home run to tie the game. Two outs later with the bases loaded, Robinson tried to steal the lead with a surprise two-out squeeze play. But Jackie missed the bunt and Demeter was tagged out on his way to the plate. In the bottom of the inning, Tetsuharu Kawakami, the hero of the opening game, came through again with a bases-loaded single to win the game.51

    On the 7th the Dodgers squeaked out a 3-2 win over the All-Japan squad in Nagoya. Gil Hodges, however, stole the headlines. Alston started the normally staid first baseman in left field and to keep himself amused Hodges “pantomimed the action after almost every play for five innings. He mimicked the pitcher and the ball’s flight through the air, the catcher and the umpire. When a Dodger errored, Hodges glowered and pointed his finger. He made his legs quiver, shook his fist, stamped on the ground, swung his arms, frowned and smiled in the fleeting instant between pitches.” The fans loved it, cheering him so loudly as he left the game in the eighth inning that “[y]ou’d have thought it was Babe Ruth leaving.”52

    Vin Scully recalled how Hodges’s antics eased a tense moment. “During a game before an overflow crowd, one of our players was called out on strikes and, in a childish display of petulance, dropped his bat on the plate, took off his helmet and hurled it to the ground with such force that it bounced up on top of the Dodger dugout. The crowd was shocked. The Japanese had never seen an umpire held up to such humiliation and it was an embarrassing moment for us in the Brooklyn party. Gil saved the day. While the crowd still sat in stunned silence, Gil suddenly appeared, jumped up on the dugout roof and approached the helmet as if it was a dangerous snake. He circled it warily, made a couple of tentative stabs at it, and quickly pounced on it, tossed it back on the field and then it did a swan dive off the top of the dugout. The fans beat their palms and shouted until they were hoarse.”53

    The Dodgers and All-Japan met again the next day at Shizuoka, a small town at the foot of Mt. Fuji, where 22 years earlier the All-Nippon behind 17-year-old Eiji Sawamura nearly beat Babe Ruth’s All-Americans. Once again the Japanese team thrilled the fans of Shizuoka as pinch-hitter Kohei Sugiyama of the All-Japan squad broke a 2-2 tie in the bottom of the ninth with a walk-off single.54 With their fourth loss, criticism of the Dodgers’ performance continued. An International News Service article headlined, “Fans Debate Reasons for Dodger Losses” asked, “Are Japanese baseball teams improving, major leaguers getting careless or the Brooklyn Dodgers just getting old?”55

    On November 9 the Dodgers returned to Tokyo for a rematch with their hosts the Yomiuri Giants. Once again, the game was tight. Home runs by Jim Gentile and Herb Olson as well as an inside-the-park homer by Giants catcher Shigeru Fujio left the score tied up after nine innings. Jim Gilliam led off the top of the 11th with a single and two outs later stood on second base as Jackie Robinson strode to the plate. Yomiuri manager Shigeru Mizuhara called for an intentional walk but Giants ace Takehiko Bessho refused. After some discussion, Mizuhara allowed Bessho to challenge Robinson. Jackie jumped on the first pitch, pounding it foul “far over the left-field stands.” On the next offering, he “drove a hot grounder through the pitcher’s box,” bringing Gilliam home to win the game.56

    The win seemed to energize both the Dodgers and Robinson. They won the next two games easily, 8-2 and 10-2, as Jackie went 2-for-5 with two runs and two RBIs. After the game in Tokyo on November 12, the Dodgers flew to the southern city of Fukuoka to make up a game that had been rained out on October 30.

    Fittingly, the final meeting of the 19-game series was tight. Nineteen-year-old phenom Kazuhisa Inao and Kipp dueled for eight innings, each surrendering one run. The score remained tied as Duke Snider led off the top of the ninth with a groundball to first, which the usually sure-handed Tokuji Iida muffed, allowing Snider to advance to third base. Robinson strode to the plate—unknowingly for the last time in his professional career—and grounded a single between third and short to score Snider and give the Dodgers the lead. After two outs and a walk, Don Demeter singled and Robinson crossed home plate for the final time. Immediately after the 3-1 victory, the Dodgers flew back to Tokyo and after a day of rest, returned to the United States.

    Brooklyn’s tour of Japan marked the end of an era. Robinson retired soon after returning to the United States. The team’s troubles on the diamond continued in 1957 as they finished in a distant third place. It was time to rebuild. The games in Japan allowed many of the younger players to display their skills. Jim Gentile, for example, led the team with a .471 batting average, 8 home runs, and 19 RBIs, while Fred Kipp won three games and posted a 1.26 ERA in 43 innings.

    Although Alston and others claimed that fatigue had led to the Dodgers’ poor showing on the diamond, they also conceded that the greatly improved Japanese had put up stiff competition. National League President Warren Giles, who accompanied the Dodgers to Japan, noted, “[T]he quality of baseball in that country is improving steadily and the day may come when the ablest players of Japan will compete on even terms with the best the United States has to offer.”57 Walter O’Malley concurred, telling reporters that the Japanese clubs would be nearly even with US ballclubs in the not-too-distant future. “Their pitchers have uncanny accuracy. They rarely walk anyone. In fielding, particularly in the infield, the Japanese teams are really excellent. Some Japanese players could play on teams in contention in pennant races here, or at least on the better minor league clubs.”58

    When asked if any of the Japanese players were ready for the majors, Al Campanis responded:

    There’s one fellow who must have been really good in his prime. He’s 38 years old now [actually 36] and they tell me he hasn’t hit under .300 for 18 straight years [actually eight]. I would have liked to [have] got a crack at him a few years back. His name is Kawakami. … High in my book were three others. A shortstop named Toyoda … was the best hitter in his league. His arm might have been a little short, but he had everything else. Then there was a catcher, Fujio, in his first year of pro ball. Never saw anyone with a better arm. Man, he had a rifle. Good receiver, too, and a fair hitter. But the number one prospect in my judgment was a pitcher named Sho Horiuchi, a 21-year-old right hander with the Yomiuri Giants.59

    The following spring, the Dodgers invited Fujio and Horiuchi along with their manager Shigeru Mizuhara, to spring training at Dodgertown to help them mature as players. The invitation began a long friendship between the two clubs. The Giants would be the Dodgers’ guests at Vero Beach in 1961, 1967, 1971, and 1975 and the two clubs would maintain close relations for over 65 years.

    NOTES

    1 “All Dodgers’ O’Malley Gets Is Ride,” New York Daily News, October 13, 1956: 36.

    2 “Dodgers Invited to Tour Japan in Fall; Most Favor Trip, but Furillo Votes No,” New York Times, May 2, 1956: S36.

    3 Ed Wilks, Newcombe ‘Gets Lost’ After Humiliation,” Monroe (Louisiana) News-Star, October 11, 1956: 12.

    4 United Press, “Dodgers Arrive at 5:30 P.M. Today,” Honolulu Advertiser, October 12, 1956: 14; Carl Lundquist, “Flatbushers Full of Frolic as They Leave For Japan,” The Sporting News, October 17, 1956: 13.

    5 Tom Hopkins, “Sportraitures,” Honolulu Star-Bulletin, October 18, 1956: 38; Red McQueen, “Dodgers Outdraw Yankees,” Honolulu Advertiser,October 16, 1956: 14.

    6 Associated Press, “Bums Arrive in Tokyo,” Passaic (New Jersey) Herald-News, October 18, 1956: 46.

    7 United Press, “Japanese Fans Defy Rain to Hail Dodgers,” New York Daily News, October 19, 1956: 155.

    8 Vin Scully, “The Dodgers in Japan,” Sport, April 1957: 92; Bob Bowie, “Actresses, Flowers, Cheers Welcome Tourists to Tokyo,” The Sporting News,October 24, 1956: 9.

    9 Scully.

    10 “Bums Open Game with Giants Today,” Japan Times, October 19, 1956: 5.

    11 Scully.

    12 Leslie Nakashima, “Dodgers Beaten 5-4 by Yomiuri Giants in Japan,” Honolulu Advertiser October 20, 1956: 14.

    13 >Other victories came in 1922, 1951, 1953 against the Eddie Lopat All-Stars, and 1953 against the New York Giants. The Royal Giants’ tours are excluded from these figures as not all of their results are known.

    14 Mel Derrick, “Alston Explains: ‘They Hit, and We Didn’t,’” Pacific Stars and Stripes, October 20, 1956: 23.

    15 Bob Bowie, “Dodgers Belt Central Loop Stars 7-1,” Pacific Stars and Stripes, October 21, 1956: 24.

    16 Mel Derrick, “Newcombe a Study in Dejection After Loss,” Pacific Stars and Stripes, October 22, 1956: 24.

    17 Bob Bowie, “All-Stars Rout Brooks 6-1,” Pacific Stars and Stripes, October 22, 1956: 24; Derrick, “Newcombe a Study,” 24.

    18 Derrick.

    19 Derrick.

    20 Bowie, “All-Stars Rout Brooks 6-1.”

    21 United Press, “Dodgers’ Good Behavior Mystifies Japanese Fan,” Honolulu Advertiser, October 26, 1956: 14.

    22 Associated Press, “Japanese Can Learn from Bums,” Hawaii Tribune-Herald (Hilo, Hawaii), October 23, 1956: 7.

    23 United Press, “Banzais Changed to Brickbats for Dodgers on Japanese Tour,” New York Times, October 23, 1956: 42.

    24 United Press, “Japanese Baseball Expert Hints Brooks Are Bums,” New York Daily News, October 23, 1956: 124.

    25 United Press, “Bums ‘Too Dignified,’ Say Japanese Hosts,” New York Daily News, October 26, 1956: 125.

    26 Carl Erskine, telephone interview with author, February 10, 2020.

    27 Carl Erskine, Tales from the Dodger Dugout (Champaign, Illinois: Sports Publishing, 2000), 65.

    28 United Press, “Brooks Nip Giants 1-0 on Snider’s Home Run,” Pacific Stars and Stripes, October 24, 1956: 24.

    29 Associated Press, “Japanese Can Learn from Bums,” Hawaii Tribune-Herald, October 23, 1956: 7.

    30 Bob Bowie, “Newk’s Tribulations,” Pacific Stars and Stripes, October 24, 1956: 22.

    31 “Brooks Whitewash All-Kanto Nine, 8-0,” Japan Times, October 25, 1956: 8.

    32 Associated Press, “Kanto All-Stars Tie Dodgers 3-3,” Pacific Stars and Stripes, October 27, 1956: 24.

    33 Associated Press, “Kanto All-Stars Tie Dodgers 3-3.”

    34 Bob Bowie, “Gates Spin as Bums Battle for Wins in Japan,” Sporting News, October 31, 1956: 7.

    35 Associated Press, “Japanese Can Learn from Bums.”

    36 “A Round Table Talk,” Baseball Magazine, 11, no. 12 (December 1956): 76-83.

    37 “A Round Table Talk.”

    38 Associated Press, “Yankees Showed More Hustle Than Dodgers,” Honolulu Star Bulletin, November 14, 1956: 44.

    39 “A Round Table Talk.”

    40 “A Round Table Talk.”

    41 Dan Daniel, “Over the Fence,” The Sporting News, November 28, 1956: 12.

    42 “A Round Table Talk.”

    43 United Press, “Japanese Warned against ‘Conceit,’” Pacific Stars and Stripes, October 28, 1956: 20.

    44 Although English-language sources list Gentile going 4 for 4, official Japanese sources have him at 5 for 5.

    45 >Associated Press, “Japan’s Pitchers Surprise Brooks,” Pacific Stars and Stripes, October 30, 1956: 19.

    46 Erskine, telephone interview.

    47 Associated Press, “Dodgers to Dedicate Game to Bomb Victims,” Pacific Stars and Stripes, October 29, 1956: 24.

    48 “Dodgersvs. Kansai All Stars at Hiroshima Stadium, Hiroshima—November 1, 1956,” walteromalley.com. https://www.walteromalley.com/en/dodger-history/international-relations/1956-Summary_November-1-1956. Retrieved October 25, 2020.

    49 “Jackie Drops Verbal Bomb at Hiroshima—Gets Thumb,” The Sporting News, November 14, 1956: 4.

    50 Hochi Sports, November 2, 1956: 2; “Dodgers vs. Kansai,” United Press, “Dodgers Top Kansai, 10-6; Robby Chased,” New York Daily News,November 2, 1956: 175.

    51 Associated Press, “Bums Win 14-7 Before 60,000,” Honolulu StarBulletin, November 3, 1956: 11; Associated Press, “Labine of Dodgers Loses in Japan, 3-2,” New York Times, November 5, 1956: 44.

    52 Associated Press, “Hodges Delights Fans with Baseball Performance,” Pacific Stars and Stripes, November 8, 1956: 22.

    53 Scully.

    54 United Press, “Dodgers Downed by Japanese, 3-2,” New York Times, November 9, 1956: 37.

    55 International News Service, “Fans Debate Reasons for Dodger Losses,” Pacific Stars and Stripes, November 8, 1956: 19.

    56 United Press, “Dodgers Edge Tokyo Giants 5-4,” Pacific Stars and Stripes, November 10, 1956: 24.

    57 Tom Swope, “‘Japanese Players Gaining Major Status Fast’—Giles,” The Sporting News, November 21, 1956: 2.

    58 United Press, “O’Malley Praises Japanese Baseball,” Pacific Stars and Stripes, November 30, 1956: 24.

    59 Daniel.

    60 Yoshikazu Matsubayashi, Baseball Game History: Japan vs, U.S.A. (Tokyo: Baseball Magazine, 2004), 92; Nippon Professional Baseball Records, https://www.2689web.com/nb.html; “Dodgers Individual Batting Results,” Baseball Magazine, 11, no. 12 (December 1956): 64.

    Continue to read the full article on the SABR website

    https://sabr.org/journal/article/the-bums-in-the-land-of-the-rising-sun-how-the-1956-dodgers-tour-of-japan-marked-the-end-of-a-dynasty/

  • 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

  • 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
  • Murder, Espionage, and Baseball: The 1934 All-American Tour of Japan

    Murder, Espionage, and Baseball: The 1934 All-American Tour of Japan

    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 Babe Ruth and the ALL Americans’ 1934 visit to Japan.

    Katsusuke Nagasaki’s breath billowed as he loitered outside the Yomiuri newspaper’s Tokyo offices. The morning of February 22, 1935 was chilly. But that was good; nobody would look twice at his bulky overcoat. Matsutaro Shoriki, the owner of the Yomiuri Shimbun, was late. Nagasaki strolled up and down the block, trying to remain inconspicuous.

    Finally, at 8:40 A.M. a black sedan cruised down the street. Nagasaki halted in front of a bulletin board by the building’s entrance. He studied the announcements as a short, balding man with thick-framed glasses emerged from the car. As Shoriki began to climb the stairs into the building, Nagasaki strode forward, pulling a short samurai sword from beneath his coat. The blade flashed through the air, striking Shoriki’s head. The bloodied newspaper owner stumbled forward, as Nagasaki fled.

    Later that day, Nagasaki walked into a local police station and gave a detailed confession. The primary reason for the assassination attempt: Shoriki had defiled the memory of the Meiji Emperor by allowing Babe Ruth and his team of American all-stars to play in the stadium named in honor of the ruler.

    Three months earlier, nearly a half-million Japanese had lined the streets of Tokyo to welcome the ballplayers to Japan. The players’ motorcade was led by Ruth in an open limousine. At 39, he had grown rotund, and just weeks before had agreed to part ways with the New York Yankees. But to the Japanese, he still represented the pinnacle of the baseball world. Sharing the car was his former teammate Lou Gehrig. The rest of the All-American baseball team, distributed three or four per car, followed: manager Connie Mack, Jimmie Foxx, Earl Averill, Charlie Gehringer, Lefty Gomez, Lefty O’Doul, and a gaggle of lesser-known stars.

    Only one player didn’t seem to belong—a journeyman catcher with a .238 career batting average named Moe Berg. Although he was not an All-Star caliber player, his off-the-field skills would explain his inclusion on the team. Berg was a Princeton University and Columbia Law School graduate who had already visited Japan in 1932. He was multilingual, causing a teammate to joke that Berg could speak a dozen languages but couldn’t hit in any of them. Berg would eventually become an operative for the Office of Strategic Services (OSS), the forerunner of the CIA, and many believe that the 1934 trip to Japan was his first mission as a spy.

    The pressing crowd reduced the broad streets to narrow paths just wide enough for the limousines to pass. Confetti and streamers fluttered down from multistoried office buildings, as thousands waved Japanese and American flags and cheered wildly. “Banzai! Banzai, Babe Ruth!” echoed through the neighborhood. Reveling in the attention, the Bambino plucked flags from the crowd and stood in the back of the car waving a Japanese flag in his left hand and an American in his right. Finally, the crowd couldn’t contain itself and rushed into the street to be closer to the Babe. Traffic stood still for hours as Ruth shook hands with the multitude.

    Ruth and his teammates stayed in Japan for a month, playing 18 games in 12 cities. But there was more at stake than sport: Japan and the United States were slipping toward war as the two nations vied for control over China and naval supremacy in the Pacific. Politically Japan was in turmoil. From the 1880s through 1920s, Japan had enjoyed a form of democracy. This period saw great strides in modernization, a flourishing of the arts, and close ties to the United States. Yet, as Japan’s power grew, so did its nationalism. A growing minority of Japanese citizens felt that the country should take its place among the world powers by expanding its military and colonizing its neighbors. Ultranationalist societies began assassinating liberal politicians and members of the free press. By the early 1930s, the civilian government could no longer control elements of the military. In 1931 nationalistic officers engineered the invasion of Manchuria and twice plotted to overthrow the government. War between the United States and Japan seemed inevitable.

    Politicians on both sides of the Pacific hoped that the goodwill generated by the tour and the two nations’ shared love of baseball could help heal their growing political differences. Many observers, therefore, considered the all-stars’ joyous reception significant. An article in the New York Times, for example, said, “The Babe’s big bulk today blotted out such unimportant things as international squabbles over oil and navies.” Connie Mack added that the tour was “one of the greatest peace measures in the history of nations.”

    Yet, not all Japanese wished the nations reunited. At the Imperial Japanese Army Academy, just two miles northwest of the parade, a group known as the Young Officers was planning a bloody coup d’etat, an upheaval that would jeopardize the tour’s success and put the players’ lives at risk. In another section of Tokyo, Nagasaki and his ultranationalist War Gods Society met at their dojo. Their actions would tarnish the tour with bloodshed.

    The 1934 tour began not as a diplomatic mission but as a publicity stunt to attract readers to the Yomiuri Shimbun. Matsutaro Shoriki had purchased the financially troubled newspaper in 1924 and quickly turned it into Tokyo’s third-largest daily by increasing its entertainment sections.

    In 1931 Shoriki decided to bolster sports coverage by sponsoring a team of American all-stars to play in Japan. The team, which included Lou Gehrig, Lefty Grove, and five other future Hall of Famers, won each of the 17 games against Japanese university and amateur teams, and the newspaper’s circulation soared. But Shoriki wasn’t satisfied. The major-league team had lacked the greatest drawing card in baseball—Babe Ruth.

    Shoriki immediately began organizing a second tour. Working closely with Sotaro Suzuki, a sportswriter who had lived in New York for nearly a decade, and National League batting champion Lefty O’Doul, Shoriki lined up the powerful 1934 squad. Most of the players’ wives accompanied their husbands on the trip, and the Ruths brought along their 18-year-old daughter, Julia. The tourists boarded the luxury liner Empress of Japan in Vancouver, British Columbia, on October 20 and, after a stop in Honolulu, arrived in Yokohama on November 2.

    Although American teachers had introduced baseball in 1872, Japan didn’t have a professional league. To challenge the Americans, Shoriki brought together Japan’s best amateur players to form the All-Nippon team. The team included 11 future members of the Japanese Baseball Hall of Fame and numerous colorful personalities.

    Two players, in particular, stood out. The first was hard to miss: 18-year-old Victor Starffin was the blondhaired, blue-eyed, 6-foot-3 son of a Russian military officer who had served Czar Nicholas II. During the Russian Revolution, the Starffins escaped by traveling in a freight train packed with typhoid patients, and later by hiding from the Red Army in a truck carrying corpses. After years on the run, the family settled in Japan. Young Victor fell in love with baseball and soon became a regional star. He hoped to play college ball, but in 1933 his father was convicted of killing a young Russian woman who worked in his teashop. The Yomiuri newspaper promised to use its influence to help Victor’s father if the young man would forsake college and play for the All-Nippon team.

    The All-Nippon squad also included a young American who hoped to become the first ethnic Japanese to make the major leagues. Jimmy Horio was born in Hawaii and left for California to follow his dreams at the age of 20. He played semipro for several years without breaking into Organized Baseball. Hearing that Shoriki was creating a team to challenge the visiting major leaguers, Horio traveled to Tokyo to try out. He hoped a stellar performance against the All-Americans would lead to a major-league contract. As a switch-hitter with power, Horio made the AllNippon team easily and hit cleanup, but would fail to impress the Americans.

    Over the next four weeks, the All-Americans and All-Nippon traveled together throughout Japan, visiting the northern island of Hokkaido; the industrial cities of Yokohama, Nagoya, and Osaka; the ancient capital of Kyoto; Kokura on the southern island of Kyushu; and, of course, Tokyo.

    Sotaro Suzuki, unidentified All-Nippon player, Lou Gehrig, Hisanori Karita, and Babe Ruth (Yoko Suzuki Collection)

    The tour began with two games at Tokyo’s Meiji Jingu Stadium. Prior to the games, fans camped out overnight to secure the best general-admission seats. They followed the Babe’s every move. A reporter stated, “The fans went crazy each time Ruth did anything—smiled, sneezed, or dropped a ball.” One old man brought a pair of high-powered binoculars, amusing himself and neighboring fans by focusing on the Bambino’s famous broad nose, making his nostrils fill the lens. Another fan, who worked in a textile factory designing kimono and undergarment patterns, had a novel plan. He would sit as close as possible to the field and study the Bambino’s face. He would memorize every feature, every wrinkle. Then he would return to the factory and create a pattern of the Babe’s face for a new line of Babe Ruth underwear. He was certain he would become rich.

    The Babe relished the attention and transformed into a comedian. During batting practice, he purposely missed some pitches—twisting himself around like a pretzel before falling over. Later, he began a game of shadow ball—hitting an imaginary grounder to Rabbit McNair at shortstop, who fielded it convincingly and started a double play, timed with perfect realism. The opening game itself was less interesting than Ruth’s antics. It pitted the All-Americans against the Tokyo Club, a team of recently graduated players from the Tokyo area, not the All-Nippon squad. It took just a few minutes for the fans, and players, to realize the difference in skill level between the two teams—the ball even sounded louder when coming off the American bats. The Americans seemed to score at will, pilling up 17 runs to Tokyo’s 1. To the crowd’s disappointment, none of the Americans hit a home run. Afterward, the Babe apologized for not going deep, telling reporters, “I was a little tired today, but tomorrow I will do my best to hit a home run.”

    The next day, November 4, the All-Americans played their first game against All-Nippon. It was the first time in history that true all-star teams representing the two countries clashed. Prior to the 1930s, visiting American professional teams were a mishmash of stars,journeymen, and minor-league players, and while the 1931 American club was a legitimate all-star team, it played only Japanese collegiate and company squads. The All-Nippon lineup featured six future Hall of Famers—Naotaka Makino, Hisanori Karita, Osamu Mihara, Minoru Yamashita, Jiro Kuji, and pitcher Masao Date. Although Date pitched “courageously,” and limited the All-Americans to five runs, the game’s outcome seemed inevitable. Jimmie Foxx, Lou Gehrig, and Earl Averill homered, with Averill going out twice. On the other side of the scorecard, American pitcher Joe Cascarella dominated the Japanese, giving up just three hits and walking only two.

    Next, the All-Americans traveled north. As they boarded a ferry to cross the straits to reach Hokkaido, officials handed each traveler a small map with three coastal areas circled in red. Large cursive writing proclaimed, “Photographing, sketching, surveying, recording, flying over the fortified zone, without the authorization of the commanding officer of this fortress are strictly prohibited by order.” The handout was not an empty threat. Japan was paranoid about espionage, and officials even inspected Ruth during the trip to make sure that he wasn’t taking photographs. But neither the proscription nor the officials stopped Moe Berg. Defying the warning, Berg whipped out his camera and filmed the area.

    The teams played two games in the northern provinces, enduring bone-chilling winds and frosted fields. Once again, the Americans won comfortably. On November 8 in Hakodate, the All-Americans took control of the game minutes after the first pitch as Averill hit a two-out, first-inning grand slam. Meanwhile, Lefty Gomez dazzled the fans and opponents with both his speed and control. Up 5-1, manager Ruth brought in third baseman Jimmie Foxx to close out the game. The burly third baseman preserved the victory by allowing just one run in the final three innings. The following day in Sendai, Ruth went deep twice and Gehrig, Foxx, and Bing Miller each hit one out in a 7-0 American victory.

    As the teams returned to Tokyo, two dozen army officers met at an isolated restaurant. Their purpose—to overthrow the Japanese government.

    The Great Depression had hit rural Japan particularly hard, leading to widespread starvation. At the same time, large trading companies, known as zaibatsu, flourished due to the unstable markets and rampant inflation. The conspirators, led by Captain Koji Muranaka, belonged to the loosely organized Young Officers movement. The Young Officers felt that Japan’s government had betrayed its citizens by putting the interests of big business before the welfare of the populace. The group advocated the violent overthrow of civilian rule, the declaration of martial law, and the Emperor taking direct control of the government. The divine Emperor, they believed, would end rural poverty by redistributing wealth and would lead Japan to world prominence by conquering Asia.

    On November 27 Japan’s parliament would meet in a special session. Once the politicians gathered, the Young Officers and their troops planned to attack the Diet Building, slaughter the civilian government, and seize power. Other sympathetic troops would battle loyalist regiments in the streets of Tokyo. No mention was made of Babe Ruth and the ballplayers, but as the Imperial Hotel faced the Emperor’s palace and was just a few blocks from the Diet Building, Muranaka’s plan put the Americans in the line of fire.

    Continue to read the full article on the SABR website

    Murder, Espionage, and Baseball: The 1934 All-American Tour of Japan
  • Join Rob Fitts at Japan Society on December 9 at 7pm for a discussion about Japanese baseball.

    Join Rob Fitts at Japan Society on December 9 at 7pm for a discussion about Japanese baseball.

    Author Robert Fitts will talk about his new book In the Japanese Ballpark: Behind the Scenes of Nippon Professional Baseball and highlight key differences between the American and Japanese games. A cocktail reception and book signing will follow.

    Fitts is the author of 11 books on Japanese baseball and is the curatorial consultant to the Yakyu-Baseball exhibit at the National Baseball Hall of Fame in Cooperstown.

    Tickets are available through the Japan Society.

    https://boxoffice.japansociety.org/events/0199e8ae-4d8f-7b6a-41cf-e9b813b50fb8?fbclid=IwY2xjawOQcptleHRuA2FlbQIxMABicmlkETFNQnM5c1RHYXZpdHBPUEFDc3J0YwZhcHBfaWQQMjIyMDM5MTc4ODIwMDg5MgABHgiyOvqNCEUuSmXKiSp7Ub4aExJGhbF68dP9_VV_yBOjtp-vMA3sWpvmue_T_aem_3bZ__i9eGExwT1CFT7BBUA

  • Rob Fitts Zoom Presentation, In the Japanese Ballpark: Behind the Scenes of Nippon Professional Baseball, November 5 at 7 pm

    Rob Fitts Zoom Presentation, In the Japanese Ballpark: Behind the Scenes of Nippon Professional Baseball, November 5 at 7 pm



    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.

    Registration link: https://tinyurl.com/ydyc3uhy

  • Celebrating the 50th Anniversary of the Hiroshima Carp’s First Pennant: Gail Hopkins Remembers the Clincher

    Celebrating the 50th Anniversary of the Hiroshima Carp’s First Pennant: Gail Hopkins Remembers the Clincher

    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.

  • Returning Home: The 1914 Seattle Nippon and Asahi Japanese American Tours

    Returning Home: The 1914 Seattle Nippon and Asahi Japanese American Tours

    by Robert 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. In this article Robert Fitts discusses the first Japanese American teams to visit Japan.

    INTRODUCTION

    Between 1890 and 1910, over 100,000 Japanese immigrated to the West Coast of the United States. Many settled in the urban centers of San Francisco, Los Angeles, and Seattle. Within a few years, each of these immigrant communities had thriving baseball clubs. The first known Japanese American team was the Fuji Athletic Club, founded in San Francisco around 1903. A second Bay Area team, the Kanagawa Doshi Club, was created the following year. That same year, newsmen at the Rafu Shimpo organized Los Angeles’s first Issei (Japanese immigrant) team. Other clubs followed in the wake of Waseda University’s 1905 baseball tour of the West Coast. Many players learned the game while still in Japan at their high schools or colleges. Others picked up the sport in the United States. The first Japanese professional club was created the following year by Guy Green of Lincoln, Nebraska. His Green’s Japanese Base Ball Team, consisting of Japanese immigrants from Los Angeles, barnstormed throughout the Midwest in the spring and summer of 1906.

    Seattle’s first Japanese American club, called the Nippon, was also organized in 1906. Shigeru Ozawa, one of the founding players, recalled that the team was not very good at first and was able to play only the second-tier White amateur nines. By 1907 the team had a large local following. In its first appearance in the city’s mainstream newspapers, the Seattle Star noted that “before one of the largest crowds seen at Woodlands park the D.S. Johnstons defeated the Nippons, the fast local Jap team, by a score of 11 to 5.” In May 1908, before a game against the crew of the USS Milwaukee,the Seattle Daily Times reported that the Nippon “have picked up the fine points of the great national game rapidly from playing the amateur teams around here every Sunday.”

    Two months later, the Daily Times featured the team when it took on the all-female Merry Widows. Mistakenly referring to the Nippons as “the only Japanese baseball club in America,” the newspaper reported, “when these sons of Nippon went up against the daughters of Columbia, viz., the Merry Widow Baseball Club, it is a safe assumption that the game played at Athletic Park yesterday afternoon was the most unique affair in the annals of the national game.” Over a thousand fans, including many Japanese, watched the Nippons win, 14-8.

    Soon after the game with the Merry Widows, second baseman Tokichi “Frank” Fukuda and several other players left the Nippon and created a team called the Mikado. The Mikado soon rivaled the Nippons as the city’s top Japanese team, with the Seattle Star calling them “one of the fastest amateur teams in the city.” In both 1910 and 1911, the Mikado topped the Nippon and Tacoma’s Columbians to win the Northwest Coast’s Nippon Baseball Championship.

    As Fukuda’s love for baseball grew, he realized the game’s importance for Seattle’s Japanese. The games brought the immigrants together physically and provided a shared interest to help strengthen community ties. It also acted as a bridge between the city’s Japanese and non-Japanese population, showing a common bond that he hoped would undermine the anti-Japanese bigotry in the city.

    In 1909 Fukuda created a youth baseball team called the Cherry—the West Coast’s first Nisei (Japanese born outside of Japan) squad. Under Fukuda’s guidance, the club was more than just a baseball team. Katsuji Nakamura, one of the early members, explained in 1918, “The purpose of this club was to contact American people and understand each other through various activities. We think it is indispensable for us. Because there are still a lot of Japanese people who cannot understand English in spite of the fact that they live in an English-speaking country. That often causes various troubles between Japanese and Americans because of simple misunderstandings. To solve that issue, it has become necessary that we, American-born Japanese who were educated in English, have to lead Japanese people in the right direction in the future. We have been working the last ten years, according to this doctrine.”

    As the boys matured, the team became stronger on the diamond and in 1912 the top players joined with Fukuda and his Mikado teammates Katsuji Nakamura, Shuji “John” Ikeda, and Yoshiaki Marumo to form a new team known as the Asahi. Like the Cherry, the Asahi was also a social club designed to create the future leaders of Seattle’s Japanese community, and forge ties with non-Japanese through various activities, including baseball. Once again the new club soon rivaled the Nippon as Seattle’s top Japanese American team.

    THE NIPPON TOUR

    During the winter of 1913-14, Mitomi “Frank” Miyasaka, the captain of the Nippon, announced that he was going to take his team to Japan, thereby becoming the first Japanese American ballclub to tour their homeland. To build the best possible squad, Miyasaka recruited some of the West Coast’s top Issei players. From San Francisco, he recruited second baseman Masashi “Taki” Takimoto. From Los Angeles, Miyasaka brought over 30-year-old Kiichi “Onitei” Suzuki. Suzuki had played for Waseda University’s reserve team before immigrating to California in 1906. A year later, he joined Los Angeles’s Japanese American team, the Nanka. He also founded the Hollywood Sakura in 1908. In 1911 Suzuki joined the professional Japanese Base Ball Association and spent the season barnstorming across the Midwest. Miyasaka’s big coup, however, was Suzuki’s barnstorming teammate Ken Kitsuse. Recognized as the best Issei ballplayer on the West Coast, in 1906 Kitsuse had played shortstop for Guy Green’s Japanese Base Ball Team, the first professional Japanese club on either side of the Pacific. He was the star of the Nanka before playing shortstop for the Japanese Base Ball Association barnstorming team in 1911. Throughout his career, Kitsuse drew accolades for his slick fielding, blinding speed, and heady play.

    To train the Nippons in the finer points of the game, Miyasaka hired 38-year-old George Engel (a.k.a. Engle) as a manager-coach. Although Engel had never made the majors, he had spent 14 seasons in the minor leagues, mostly in the Western and Northwest Leagues, as a pitcher and utility player. Miyasaka also created a challenging schedule to ready his team for the tour. They began their season with games against the area’s two professional teams from the Northwest League. On Sunday, March 22, they lost, 5-1, to the Tacoma Tigers, led by player-manager and future Hall of Famer Joe “Iron Man” McGinnity. The following Sunday the Seattle Giants, which boasted seven past or future major leaguers on the roster, beat them 5-1. Despite the one-sided loss, the Seattle Daily Times noted, “the Nippons … walked off Dugdale Field yesterday afternoon feeling well satisfied with themselves for they had tackled a professional team and had made a run.”

    In April 1914, Keio University returned for its second tour of North America. After dropping two games in Vancouver, British Columbia and a third to the University of Washington, Keio met the Nippons on April 9 at Dugdale Park in what the Seattle Daily Times called “the world’s series for the baseball championship of Japan.” On the mound for Keio was the great Kazuma Sugase, the half-German “Christy Mathewson of Japan,” who had starred during the school’s 1911 tour. The team also included future Japanese Hall of Famers Daisuke Miyake, who would manage the All-Nippon team against Babe Ruth’s All-Americans in 1934, and Hisashi Koshimoto, a Hawaiian-born Nisei who would later manage Keio.

    Nippons manager George Engel was in a quandary. His usual ace Sadaye Takano was not available and as Keio would host his team during its coming tour of Japan, he needed the Nippons to prove they could challenge the top Japanese college squad. Engel reached out to William “Chief’ Cadreau, a Native American who had pitched for Spokane and Vancouver in the Northwestern League, one game for the 1910 Chicago White Sox, and would later pitch a season for the African American Chicago Union Giants. Pretending that he was a Japanese named Kato, Cadreau started the game. According to the Seattle Star, “Engel was very careful to let the Keio boys know that Kato, his pitcher, was deaf and dumb. But later in the game Kato became enthused, as ball players will, and the jig was up when he began to root in good English.” Nonetheless, Cadreau handled Keio relatively easily, striking out 13 en route to a 6-3 victory.

    Throughout the spring and summer, the Nippons continued to face the area’s top teams, including the African American Keystone Giants, to prepare for the trip to Japan. Yet in their minds, the most important matchup was the three-game series against the Asahi for the Japanese championship. The Nippons took the first game, 4-2, on July 12 at Dugdale Park but there is no evidence that they finished the series. Not to be outdone by their rivals, the Asahi also announced that they would tour Japan later that year. Sponsored by the Nichi-nichi and Mainichi newspapers, the Asahi would begin their trip about a month after the Nippons left for Japan.

    The Nippon left Seattle aboard the Shidzuoka Maru on August 25. Their departure went unreported by the city’s newspapers as international news took precedence. Germany had invaded Belgium on August 4, opening the Western Front theater of World War I. Throughout the month, Belgian, French, and British troops battled the advancing Germans. Just days before the ballclub left for Japan, the armies clashed at Charleroi, Mons, and Namur with tens of thousands of casualties. On August 23, Japan declared war on Germany and two days later declared war on Austria.

    After two weeks at sea, the Nippon arrived at Yokohama on September 10. The squad contained 11 players: George Engel, Frank Miyasaka, Yukichi Annoki, Kyuye Kamijyo, Masataro Kimura, Ken Kitsuse, Mitsugi Koyama, Yohizo Shimada, Kiichi Suzuki, Sadaye Takano, and Masashi Takimoto. Accompanying the ballplayers was the team’s cheering group, consisting of 21 members and led by Yasukazu Kato. The group planned to attend the games to cheer on the Nippon and spend the rest of their time sightseeing.

    As the Shidzuoka Maru docked, a group of reporters, Ryozo Hiranuma of Keio University, Tajima of Meiji University, and a few university players came on board to welcome the visiting team. The group then took a train to Shinbashi Station in Tokyo, where they were met by the Keio University ballplayers at 2:33 P.M. The Nippon checked in at the Kasuga Ryokan in Kayabacho while the large cheering group, which needed two inns to accommodate them, settled down at the Taisei-ya and Sanuki-ya.

    Only two hours later, the Nippon arrived at Hibiya Park for practice. Not surprisingly, after the voyage they were not in top form. The Tokyo Asahi noted, “Even though the Seattle team is composed of Japanese, their ball-handling skills are as good as American players, and … their agile movements are very encouraging. … They hit the ball with a very free form, but yesterday, they did not place their hits very accurately, most likely due to fatigue. … The Seattle team did not have a full-fledged defensive practice with each player in position, so we did not know how skilled they were in defensive coordination, but we heard that the individual skills of each player were as good as those of Waseda and Keio. In short, the Seattle team has beaten Keio University before, so even though they are Japanese, they should not be underestimated. On top of that, they have good pitching, so games against Waseda University and Keio University are expected to arouse more than a few people’s interest, just like the games against foreign teams in the past.”

    The Nippon would stay in Japan for almost four months, but the baseball tour itself consisted of just eight games—all played during September against Waseda and Keio Universities. The players spent the rest of the time traveling through their homeland and visiting family and friends.

    Continue to read the full article on the SABR website

    Returning Home: The 1914 Seattle Nippon and Asahi Japanese American Tours
  • NHK’s Deeper Look Focuses on Japanese Baseball with Rob Fitts

    NHK’s Deeper Look Focuses on Japanese Baseball with Rob Fitts

    NHK World-Japan’s Deeper Look host Del Irani visited the Yakyu-Baseball exhibit at the National Baseball Hall of Fame and Museum in Cooperstown to examine the history of Japan- U.S. relations through baseball.

    In this two-part series, Irani interviews SABR’s Asian Research Committee Chair Robert Fitts about the the long history of Japan-U.S. baseball interaction, baseball diplomacy, and the cultural importance of Japanese playing in Major League Baseball.

    https://www3.nhk.or.jp/nhkworld/en/shows/2100064/

    https://www3.nhk.or.jp/nhkworld/en/shows/2100065/

  • The 1908 Reach All-American Tour of Japan

    The 1908 Reach All-American Tour of Japan

    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. In this article Robert Fitts describes the first professional baseball tour of Japan.

    The “King of Baseball” was on the prowl for a new opportunity. Mike Fisher, known by everybody as Mique, was a bom promoter and bom self-promoter. He was a risk taker, tackling daunting projects with enthusiasm and usually succeeding. He was the quintessential late-nineteenth-century American man; through hard work and gumption this son of a poor Jewish immigrant transformed himself into a West Coast baseball magnate.

    Bom in New York City in 1862, Fisher grew up in San Francisco. Renowned for his speed, he played baseball in the California League during the 1880s before an industrial accident in March 1889 damaged his left hand and sidelined his career. Fisher soon became a policeman in Sacramento, rising to the rank of detective. During his time away from the game, he put on weight and by 1903 was a repeat champion in the fat men’s races held at local fairs.

    In February 1902, a new opportunity presented itself when the California League offered Fisher the Sacramento franchise. Fisher pounced on it. In December 1902, the league transformed into the Pacific Coast League, but within a year Fisher relocated his franchise to Tacoma, Washington. Hampered by poor attendance, despite winning the 1904 championship, Fisher sold his share in the team but stayed on as manager as the franchise moved to Fresno in 1906. But his stay in Fresno was short as he left the team after the 1906 season. Without a franchise, Fisher turned to promoting and, in the fall of 1907, took a squad of PCL all-stars to Hawaii.

    “So pleased is Mike Fisher with the reception that his team has met with here,” reported the Hawaiian Gazette, “that he is already planning for more worlds to conquer. He is now laying his lines for a trip to be made … next year, which will extend farther yet from home. … The plan, as outlined by Fisher, will include a start from San Francisco, with a team composed exclusively of players from the National and American leagues,” and a stop in Hawaii before continuing on to Japan, China, and the Philippines. It was the first time an American professional squad headed to the Far East.

    By early December 1907, Fisher had teamed up with Honolulu athlete and sports promoter Jesse Woods to organize the trip.  Woods sent a flurry of letters to Asian clubs to gauge their interest. In February, John Sebree, the president of the Manila Baseball League, responded “that Manila would meet any reasonable expense in order to see some good fast baseball by professional players.” In early March, Woods received a letter from the Keio University Baseball Club stating that they would help arrange games in Japan for the American team. The Hawaiian Gazette noted, “This was good news for Woods, who has been in doubt as how such a trip would be received by the Japanese. There has been so much war talk that Woods was afraid that Japanese might refuse to play baseball with us.” A letter in early April from T. Matsumura, the captain of the Yokohama Commercial School team, confirmed the enthusiasm for the tour in Japan: “When you visit our country, you would certainly receive a most hearty welcome from our baseball circles.” Isoo Abe, the manager of the Waseda University team, added, “We are preparing to give you a grand ovation. We are going to make you feel at home, and we will strive to make your visit to Japan to be one that will linger long in your memories.”

    In late June, Woods sailed for Asia to finalize the details for the tour. The touring team was now known as the Reach All-Americans. With the name change, it is likely that the A.J. Reach Company sponsored the team but despite extensive research, the nature of the sponsorship is unknown. Woods’s reports from the Far East were encouraging. “I have all the arrangements made. Forfeit money is up everywhere, and everything is on paper. The team will take in Japanese and Chinese ports and Manila.”

    While Woods was working out the itinerary, Fisher built his roster. As usual, he thought big. It would be “a galaxy of the best players in the country.” He began by engaging Jiggs Donahue, the Chicago White Sox’ slick-fielding first baseman, to manage and help recruit the team. “I do not know why Mike Fisher came to me to ask me to get up the team, for I did not know him,” Donahue told a reporter. “I will willingly undertake the work, however, for I believe it will prove to be a grand trip and a success.” Donahue quickly recruited fellow Chicagoans Frank Chance, Orval Overall, and Ed Walsh and began working on the leagues’ two biggest stars, Honus Wagner and Napoleon Lajoie. “Both Wagner and Lajoie are said to be enthusiastic over the plan,” reported the Inter Ocean of Chicago, “but cannot decide whether or not they will be able to arrange their affairs in such a way as to make the trip, which will last two or three months.”  By June, Fisher had added New York Highlanders star Hal Chase, Chicago’s Doc White, and Bill Bums of the Senators. Although Wagner and Lajoie declined the invitation, Fisher’s team received a boost on August 23 when Ty Cobb announced that he would join the tour. The recently married star planned to take his bride on the trip as a honeymoon.

    Continue to read the full article on the SABR website

    The 1908 Reach All-American Tour of Japan
  • Newly Identified Newspaper Article Pushes Earliest Date of Japanese Baseball Back to July 1869

    Newly Identified Newspaper Article Pushes Earliest Date of Japanese Baseball Back to July 1869

    by Robert K. Fitts

    In 2022 Japanese baseball celebrated its official 150th birthday. Most officials and historians date the introduction of baseball to Japan to 1872 when American teacher Horace Wilson taught the game to his Japanese students. Recent research, however, has shown that the crew of the U.S.S. Colorado played against American residents of Yokohama in October 1871, and perhaps against Japanese residents of Osaka in January 1871[1] Now, a newspaper article shows that baseball was played as early as July 1869 in Kobe.

    A few years ago, historian Aaron M. Cohen began sending me clippings about Japanese baseball from his files. Among the clippings was an article written by Harold S. Williams in 1976 discussing the origins of Japanese baseball. Williams was an Australian who lived in Kobe, Japan, from 1917 to his death in 1987, except for the war years. Williams wrote extensively about the early history of Kobe and Japanese culture.

    In his article, “Shades of the Past: The Introduction of Baseball into Japan,” Williams argued “the names of those who actually first introduced the game into Japan is something which never will be known. Furthermore nobody knows, nobody can ever know, exactly where or precisely when the first game was played. Certainly it would have been a very modest and informal affair”[2] A sentence in the article caught my attention. He wrote: “in Kobe, on 4th August, 1869, about eighteen months after the port was opened, The Hiogo News reported: …one evening last week we saw as many as 7 or 8 men playing cricket and a still larger number playing baseball.” 

    Intrigued, I shared this with my colleague from Kawasaki, Japan, Yoichi Nagata. Yoichi went to the National Diet Library in Tokyo to track down the original source. The text of the article, appearing on page 434, is as follows.

    “The exuberant spirit of youthful Kobe has been disporting itself for some days past a little out of the beaten track. This is a fact that, in spite of all kinds of adverse circumstances, the enthusiasm of a few cricketers has burst through the bonds that hitherto bound it, and bat, ball and stumps have been paraded through our streets. …The practice ground—no, it would not be right to call it by that name—the ball–splitting ground, or the ground upon which play has been carried on, has been the N.E. corner of the “sand patch” of a year ago—now well overgrown with weeds, grass, etc., etc. The best of this has been selected, the grass has been cut, and it makes a fair ground for practice. If anyone is skeptical on this point, he should join in an evening’s play, but novices should be fairly warned of the surrounding dangers, or the drains and stakes may cause a nasty tumble. The stakes are the corner posts of the different unsold lots, and those who have run against them say they are pretty firmly driven in. These are minor disadvantages, and the cricketeers say that a man never runs against them twice,—memory acts as a kindly warning, and one proof of their stability has hitherto been found quite sufficient.Truly, the “sand patch” has been used for purposes never dreamed of, and that it was apparently least fitted for. Two successful Race Meetings have been held on this non-elastic turf, and one evening last week we saw as many as 7 or 8 men playing cricket, and a still larger party playing baseball.We are pleased to hear it is the intention of the cricketeers to form a club, and wish them every success. Although there is sufficient talent here to form a good club, we fear the obstacles in the way of success are greater than are anticipated, unless the promoters are fortunate enough to secure a plot of ground at a very small expense, such, for instance, as an unused portion of a Race Course (should a Race Course be made here.) To buy or rent a piece of ground will entirely will be entirely beyond the means of such a club as can be formed here. A large piece of ground is required—say from 3,500 to 4,000 tsubos, and this at the lowest Japanese rental will amount to a very considerable figure yearly, to say nothing of the cost of preparing and keeping it in repair. The most feasible plan we have heard proposed is that permission should be obtained to use a certain portion of the N.E. corner of the Concession, level it, and cover it with mould, turf, &c. This scheme has few objections. The cost will be trifling, and in a few months, a decent practice grounds can be made. As the land is not likely to be required for some time, we think the Native Authorities would have very little objection to it being used for the purpose. We are aware the ground would be anything but perfect, and far from what a fine player would desire… .”

     In March 2025 Yoichi and I returned to the Diet Library to search the Hiogo News for more early references to baseball. Unfortunately, we came up empty. 

    The “sand patch” mentioned in the Hiogo News article was not a particular location within Kobe but rather was a nickname for the entire area allocated for the foreign settlement. With a few exceptions, Japan was closed to foreigners from the beginning of the seventeenth century until American Admiral Matthew Perry entered Tokyo Bay with his Black Ships in 1853 and demanded access to the country for trade. The subsequent 1854 Convention of Kanagawa and 1858 Treaty of Amity and Commerce opened seven ports for trade and allowed for a foreign settlement, or Concession, at each port.

    The Kobe Concession was opened on January 1, 1868. The land set aside for the foreign settlement was a barren sandy plain with poor drainage. Soon dubbed the “Sand Patch,” it became a swamp with knee deep quicksand during the rainy season and a dusty wasteland during the dry season. Early settlers began reclaiming the land and constructing trading houses and homes. By mid 1868, the area had been surveyed and laid out with staked plots ready for sale. Within the first year, the settlement’s small population (it contained about 200 Westerners in 1871) established two newspapers, social clubs, and on March 1, 1869, a horse racing club.

    1868 map of Kobe showing the foreign concession on the right

    An 1870 plan of the Kobe Concession shows the location of the staked plots for sale and the approximate location of the ground used for cricket and baseball in July 1869. As the article clearly states that the ground was in the northeast corner of the concession and contained stakes marking the unsold lots, we can place the area just to the west of modern Kobe City Hall between Kyomachisuji Street on the west, Hanadokeisen Street on the north, Higashimachi-Suji Street on the east, and Kitamachi Street on the south.

    1870 Plan of Kobe’s Foreign Settlement
    Detail of the 1870 plan showing location of ball grounds
    Location of ball grounds on modern map

    Sadly, Williams is correct that we may never know the identities of these early ballplayers. A complete list of early Kobe settlers that includes nationalities does not seem to exist. Therefore, we cannot identify the American residences who may have played in this July 1869 game.

    In September 1870 the foreign residents of Kobe established the Kobe Regatta & Athletic Club and in 1872 reached an agreement with the Japanese authorities to create a recreation ground on the land just east of the concession where future cricket and baseball games were held.

    With the digitization of newspapers and other sources from Meiji Japan, I expect that future researchers will find more evidence of early baseball in Japan. But Williams is probably correct that we will never know the exact date and location of first baseball game in Japan. 

    [1] Nobby Ito’s research on the 1871 game in Osaka is summarized in Michael Clair’s August 17, 2024, article on MLB.com “Search for Japan’s baseball origins unearths new possibility.”

    [2] Williams’s article was originally published in the 1976 Journal of the American Chamber of Commerce in Japan and was republished in Culture, Power & Politics in Treaty Port Japan, 1854-1899: Key Papers, Press and Contemporary Writings, edited by J.E. Hoare (Amsterdam University Press, 2028).

  • Solving the Mystery of Togo Hamamoto

    Solving the Mystery of Togo Hamamoto

    by Rob Fitts

    Originally published on RobFitts.com February 15, 2021

    The history of early Japanese American baseball is still being discovered. There is so much we do not know. Mainstream, English-language newspapers rarely covered Japanese American daily life or sport. When these newspapers did mention Japanese immigrant baseball, the articles were often garbled—full of misspellings, factual errors, and sometimes overt bigotry. On top of this, early twentieth century sportswriters enjoyed telling an entertaining story more than report fact. Piecing together history from these articles is challenging as most of the reports cannot be taken at face value but instead need to be confirmed by independent sources. As an example, let’s examine the story of Togo Hamamoto.

    In mid-January 1911, an intriguing article ran on the sports pages across the United States. On January 17th, New York Giants manager John McGraw announced that Togo S. Hamamoto of Tokyo would be joining the team at Marlin Springs, Texas, to observe American “scientific baseball.”

    A press release noted that Hamamoto, “who has the backing of a number of influential citizens of Tokyo, . . . will devote his time to mastering the game.”[1] “His backers plan to add professional baseball in their own country.”[2] “McGraw plans to do all in his power to spread the gospel of the game in foreign lands,” the release continued. He “is prophesying that some day [sic] a real world’s championship will be played with the United States and Japan as rivals.”[3] Newspapers across the country, from large-market dailies to bi-weekly rags in rural villages, reprinted the announcement.

    About a month later, Hamamoto was in the news again. This time, reporters had transformed him from an observer into a player receiving a tryout. “Togo is a star player among the Japs, and will work out daily,” reported the Chronicle-Telegram of Elyria, Ohio. “He may play on the second team.”[4] But of more interest to the writers were reports of Hamamoto bringing his valet and personal cook to training camp.

    He “may do more than merely learn baseball. He threatens to change the entire social conditions of ball players,” joked an anonymous writer. “When the valet is seen trailing Togo’s baseball shoes after a workout with the Giants or perhaps pressing his suit and folding it neatly away in the locker to await the next practice, it is likely to strike the ball players’ fancy and before the Giants come north it is more than probable that Togo S. will lose the distinction of being the only ball player who has his own private valet.”[5] Another writer worried, “McGraw fears a valet oiling Togo’s shoes and fanning him between innings, may cause the Giants to insurge [sic] and ask for the same treatment.”[6]

    On March 9, the sports editor of the New York Times asked, “Where is Togo Hamamoto, the Japanese athlete, who was going to train with the New York Giants at Marlin Springs? Togo burned up the cables getting permission from Manager McGraw to get inside information on training a baseball team, and McGraw gave him permission to join the camp. But he hasn’t appeared, and nothing has been heard from him.”[7] The Giants began practicing in Marlin’s Emerson Park on February 20 and stayed until March, practicing in Emerson Park. Reports from the Giants’ spring training camp fail to mention Hamamoto and newspaper articles do not provide a reason for his absence.

    When I wrote the first draft of Issei Baseball in 2018, I wondered if the story was a hoax dreamed up by a bored sportswriter yearning for the start of the baseball season. My searches of immigration records found no man named Hamamoto arriving from Japan in 1911, plus his name does not appear in Japanese baseball histories. On top of that, his name is suspiciously similar to Irving Wallace’s fictional character Togo Hashimura, the Japanese “school boy” whose book of fictitious letters describing life in America had become a best seller in 1909. I concluded that the articles written about Hamamoto attending spring training were a hoax written for amusement.

    That changed in early 2019 when I received a copy of Tetsusaburo “Tom” Uyeda’s previously classified FBI file. Uyeda, who had played on Guy Green’s 1906 Japanese Base Ball Team and the 1908 Denver Mikado’s Japanese Base Ball Team, was unjustly convicted in 1942 by the U.S. Alien Enemy Hearing Board as a Japanese spy. During his appeal, Uyeda explained; “In the Spring of 1912, I received a letter from one Mr. Hamamoto who asked me to come over to St. Louis, Missouri, to assist in organizing a baseball team.”[8]

    Refocusing my research on St. Louis, I found a Togo S. Hamamoto listed in the city directory as valet working for Hugh Kochler, a wealthy brewer. Born Shizunobu Hamamoto in Nagasaki on December 25, 1884, he arrived in Seattle on the SS Shimano Maru on April 22, 1903. He made his way to St. Louis in 1906 and began working as a valet while reporting on Major League baseball for the Nagasaki-based newspaperSasebo. He attended four or five games per week and became friendly with a number of the players, including Cristy Mathewson, Lou Gehrig, and Babe Ruth [9].

    But did Hamamoto attend the Giants’ spring training in 1911? There was no evidence that he had until June 2020 when Robert Klevens, owner of Prestige Collectibles and an authority of Japanese baseball memorabilia, found this postcard.

    The picture shows Hamamoto wearing a Giants uniform made between 1909 and 1910 (the team used a different logo on their sleeve in 1908 and switched to pinstripes in 1911). The solid stocking pattern was used by the Giants only in 1909, but we do not know if the Giants issued these to Hamamoto or if he wore his own stockings. 

    (Illustration from Baseball Uniforms of the 20th Century by Marc Okkonen

    As new uniforms were expensive and teams did not have large budgets, it was common for players to practice in uniforms from previous seasons. This picture from spring training in 1912, for example, shows Giants players in various uniform styles.

    I have not been able to locate enough pictures of Emerson Park to confirm if the photograph of Hamamoto was taken there, but the wooden fence in the photograph is similar to the fence surround the ballpark. Efforts to identify the Mr. S noted on the back has been fruitless.

    So even though the postcard does not prove that Hamamoto attended the Giants spring training in 1911, it is likely that the newspaper stories were partly accurate and that he eventually arrived. Hamamoto’s time with the Giants, however, did not lead to a professional baseball league in Japan. Unsuccessful attempts to create a pro circuit did not begin until 1920s and it was not until the creation of Japanese Baseball League in 1936 that Japan would have a stable professional league.

    Hamamoto would eventually turn his back on baseball. A few years later, he was in the stands watching his home-town Browns battle Walter Johnson and the Washington Senators when a St. Louis batter popped out in a key situation. “Some of the people behind me, and one of them was a lady, used such language—oh, it was so bad that I decided baseball did not always contain the three cardinal principals which I think a sport should have—Dignity, Honesty, and Humor. Since then I have not gone to ball games.”[10]

    Around 1916, while still working as a valet for Kochler, Hamamoto took up golf. He played at every opportunity and soon mastered the sport. In 1929, he won St. Louis’s Forrest Park Golf Club’s championship and went on to play in several national amateur championships. Upon his father’s death in 1933, he returned to Nagasaki to inherit the estate. At the end of World War II, he became an interpreter for the police in Haiki, Japan.[11] The year of his death is unknown.


    [1]    Salt Lake Telegram, January 17, 1911, 7.

    [2] Akron Beacon Journal, January 18, 1911, 8.

    [3]Salt Lake Telegram, January 17, 1911, 7.

    [4]Chronicle-Telegram, February 23, 1911, 3.

    [5]Winnipeg Tribune, February 24, 1911, 7.

    [6]Elyria Chronicle-Telegram, February 23, 1911, 3.

    [7]New York Times, March 9, 1911, 12.

    [8] Tetsusaburo Uyeda to Edward J. Ennis, January 3, 1944. World War II Alien Enemy Detention and Internment Case Files, Tetsusaburo “Thomas” Uyeda, Case 146-13-2-42-36.

    [9]St. Louis Post-Dispatch, August 1, 1929, 19.

    [10]St. Louis Post-Dispatch, August 1, 1929, 19.

    [11]St. Louis Star and Times, December 4, 1945, 22.