| February 5th
The weekend has arrived and so have the crowds. The Hawks are the only baseball team on the Kyushu Island (population: approximately 13 million). And while the entire 13 million did not come out to visit the team this weekend, it seemed like most of them did. I have never participated in a spring-training workout so well attended. Notice I said workout, not game. There were about 15,000 people here on Saturday and another 27,000 on Sunday. And these fans ate up even the slightest bit of attention you give them.
It has taken me a long time, but I have learned that as a baseball player I can have a positive impact on a total stranger’s life, especially a child. It is impossible to meet every fan’s request, but as I have gotten older I have tried to be more attentive. So far players here in Japan haven’t interacted with the fans as much as most guys in the States do.
There are autograph seekers everywhere, but, unlike the States, it is obvious these folks really want the autographs for themselves. I think what has turned some players off to signing is that it’s so obvious so many people are just trying to turn on a profit on the autographs. But the fans here really get genuinely excited when you sign something for them. And if I say anything in Japanese to communicate with the fans, that really gets them going. They really seem to appreciate the extra effort to learn their language.
Rick Guttormson gave the fans quite a show while we were on our way to a side field the other morning. Rick stopped at a basketball hoop, jumped and touched the rim -- hardly a major feat considering it was an eight-foot hoop. But there was such a large gasp from the fans you would have thought Rick set the world record for vertical leap. The next day he dunked his glove and received an even bigger “ooooohhh” from his adoring fans.
So what do you think I did? I found a Sports Authority here in rural Japan and bought a basketball. Tomorrow Rick and I will begin practicing our slam-dunk routine for the big weekend crowds. We figure the weekday crowd will be a good focus group -- we’ll test out our material to see what the fans like. I’m sure ally-oops will bring them to their feet. Rick could be Michael Jordan and Roger Clemens all wrapped into one here in Japan.
Now back to baseball, I threw my second bullpen session this past weekend and I think I have Sugimoto San in a panic. I tend to be a little quick with my delivery. I don’t always come to a complete stop when I come set, which could lead to a balk call. Rick told me umpires here look closely for a complete stop. Sugimoto San addressed the issue in my first bullpen session and, after a few sentences lost in translation, he asked me to pause longer whenever I throw – on the mound, in the bullpen and even in our practice drills.
I can tell he is concerned. I’ve told him that not to worry, and I even promised I won’t have one balk called on me all year. In my second bullpen session I took his advice to heart and made sure to count to two in my head very slowly before I delivered the pitch. Now, whether this is a direct result, or maybe an indirect result, but I can honestly say I haven’t thrown a bullpen session with such great command in a long time.
My mind has always run 100 miles per hour, and that’s caused me to rush on the mound. Maybe, just maybe, Sugimoto San’s panic will help me have better control. We’ll see.
Today was our first day-off of camp, and we actually will have four more days off during camp. In the States, teams get only one day off throughout the entire six weeks of spring training. Of course, I assure you the Japanese work ethic is something to be marveled at, and I can safely say what they put us through here puts major-league players to shame.
My three American teammates and I decided to spend our day off playing golf. We are staying right on the grounds of the Phoenix Country Club, which is home to the Phoenix Dunlap Tournament. Tiger Woods won the event two years straight. Not surprisingly, the course is very nice. It cost us ¥26,000 ($215 US) to play golf, rent clubs and eat lunch.
The guys were a little disappointed when they learned we had to walk 18 holes. I was so excited to be playing golf, I didn’t mind. The course requires that each group have a caddy. I was surprised, however, to learn that each caddy was a female. I have never seen a female caddy before, never mind a course that supplied exclusively female caddies. So Kazumi loaded up her caddy cart, which held all four bags, and we were off.
Kazumi worked extremely hard. And I must admit, I really enjoyed having someone working for me. She brought me whatever club I needed. She cleaned the clubs I just used. She told me how far away I was from the green and even cleaned my ball before I putted it. How am I ever going to survive going back to the real world? Maybe I’ll be able to get my wife to do all of that for me. I’m sure if I ask her I’ll be pretty busy over the next few days trying to get my 9-iron unwrapped from around my neck.
Kazumi was entertaining, too, although I’m not sure if she intended to be. She had a habit of commenting after every shot. In her cute Japanese accent, she said stuff such as, “Uh-oh, slice, slice,” as Rick’s ball was headed for the woods, or, “Oh, sorry, sorry,” after I putted the ball 10 feet past the hole. And anytime Buck put his 6-4, 250-pound frame into a drive, we said, “Big Buck! Big Buck!” And she would repeat it. It was entertaining.
On the fourth hole, she quickly yelled, “Fore!” after Rick teed off. She thought Rick hit an errant shot, but we knew he was playing his slice. Sure enough, his shot curved back and landed just off the fairway and Kazumi looked slightly confused by her error. For a few seconds there she was in a panic.
A few holes later we were walking up the fairway when we heard a commotion behind us. When we turned around, Kazumi was standing there with a can that had beer shooting out the side, creating a steady stream about eight-feet long. Somehow she had managed to puncture a hole in it. She just stood there, looking slightly embarrassed with her right arm fully extended and beer now watering the grass. We’re still not sure how it happened, but it was at that moment I regretted not bringing a video camera with me on this outing.
The little English she knew was helpful. She always was able to tell us how many yards we were from the green. “One, five, five” she’d say, not knowing how to say one hundred fifty five. She always said the yardage followed by something in Japanese, which of course was useless to us. She was very happy to have learned the term “to the pin.” By the fifth hole she was able to say, “1-5-5, to the pin.” She thanked us after the round for teaching her something that will aid her next time she caddied for English speakers.
Quite possibly my favorite thing she did was rattle off three-to-four sentences in Japanese, as if we had any idea what she was saying. This usually took place as we approached a new hole. I think she was giving us advice on how to play the hole. Those sessions usually ended with some pointing somewhere -- and a whole lot of confusion.
Something different about our round of golf, and I’m told this is consistent throughout Japan, was how long we were required to take for lunch after nine holes. “5-0 minutes” Kazumi told us. We could not tee off on the tenth hole for almost an hour. We all went upstairs and enjoyed a nice meal in the restaurant. With every native meal there is always something to converse about, and this meal was no exception. The sunny-side-up egg on top of my cheeseburger won the award for most unusual combination of food for the day. I ate the egg, just not with my burger. The thought of a runny yoke working its way outside of the bun and all over my hands was not the least bit appealing.
We finished up the round and, although I didn’t score exceptionally well, I was happy to record two birdies, one on an extremely lucky 40-foot putt. We all had a good time and it was a nice way to spend our first off day of spring training in Japan. After golf, we hit the onsen (my second visit of the day), ate dinner and hit the sack. The guys said the day was good but that they were not going to walk a golf course again. So next time we golf, we’ll play at the course next door, which has carts. I, on the other hand, wouldn’t mind doing this again. I didn’t love the walking, but Kazumi’s free entertainment made it worth it.
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February 7th
We had our first session of “Phi Slamma Jamma” today – that’s what we call Rick and I dunking on an 8-foot rim in front of fans – and it was met with excitement. What really caught me off guard was the media’s interest. The first day we went out there, a couple of photographers were in the area and they began snapping away. It got to the point where they were asking us to face them while dunking (instead of the nasty reverse I was throwing down). I happily obliged and even went spread eagle. Oh, to have a vertical leap.
The next day more photographers were waiting by the hoop hoping for a repeat session, and they were in luck. Two of them were strategically positioned on a nearby walkway that is higher than the rim; this way they could shoot downward. Once again Phi Slamma Jamma drew “oohs” and “ahhs” from fans. I couldn’t help but laugh every time I heard it.
I regret to inform everyone that after today’s workouts Phi Slamma Jamma will have to take a break for a few days. I mildly strained my quad muscle running the bases today and I think it would probably be a bad idea to be seen throwing down dunks the day after I skipped pitcher’s running drills. It’s a shame, because I was really looking forward to being tuned up for the big weekend crowd. Still, it’s a good idea to can it for a while.
A lot of the pitchers asked me how my golf game went, and their responses made me skeptical of the quality of their golf games. I shot an 89, which under normal circumstances would draw little or no response. My teammates, however, looked at me with awe, as if to say, “What are you doing here? You should be on the tour!” And when I told them we played at the Phoenix Country Club, they seemed even more impressed. You should have seen how they reacted when I told them Adam shot an 86.
Tomorrow Mr. Oh is taking the Americans out to dinner. It should be an interesting evening.
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February 8th
One of the greatest perks of playing professional baseball for all these years on all these teams has been the opportunity to meet some of the greatest living personalities of the game. Last night I added one of the most intriguing legends to that list.
Sadaharu Oh is the single greatest baseball figure in Japanese history. He is Babe Ruth, Joe DiMaggio, Mickey Mantle and Ted Williams all wrapped up into one. Already in my short time here, I have been able to witness first hand what he means to the people of his country. They revere him in a way that I have never seen fans treat any other person.
Mr. Oh put Japanese baseball on the map by hitting 868 home runs in 22 years, and that’s 113 more than Hank Aaron’s major-league record of 755. Mr. Oh played in 14 Japan Series Championships, winning 11, and he was awarded nine Central League MVP Trophies during a playing career that covered parts of four decades (1959-1980).
Last season Mr. Oh was diagnosed with cancer and had surgery to remove his stomach and one lymph node. There was understandably a lot of concern here, but everyone was relieved to learn that the surgery was a success. He had to miss many games last year as manager of the Hawks, but he appears to be at great strength now. Sadly, Mr. Oh’s wife, Kyoko, also was diagnosed with stomach cancer and she passed away in 2001.
Superstars carry an aura to them and Mr. Oh is no different. Had I never seen a picture of him I bet I still would have been able to pick him out of a room filled with 1,000 people. He just seems to have that persona of someone who is very special, and he is just that.
I was very appreciative Mr. Oh invited the four American players for dinner, along with his personal assistant and the team’s three translators. I have always enjoyed baseball conversation, especially when it involves someone who has had considerably more success and experience than myself. Mr. Oh provided a memorable evening.
I enjoyed his take on what is necessary for a pitcher to be successful in Japan, especially a foreign pitcher here for the first time. Through translation I felt myself almost finishing some of his thoughts because I agreed wholeheartedly with what he had to say. He has a great perspective – he actually was a pitcher when he first signed a professional contract. Amazingly, a lot of what he said reminded me of the conversations I have had with U.S. hitting stars.
He was very open to our questions, and our questions were all over the map. Someone even asked him about Barry Bonds, which I’ll keep private. We also asked if he ever had the desire to play in the United States, and it sure was interesting to hear him explain how playing overseas was not an option for Japanese players of his era. Rules prohibited it.
Mr. Oh did have the opportunity to face some U.S. stars of his era through international exhibitions and he talked about digging in against greats such as Tom Seaver, Steve Carlton and Bob Gibson. He said Seaver was the toughest, which surprised me. I thought for sure he would have said Gibson.
Mr. Oh was happy to learn I was writing a regular column for the Associated Press about my experiences playing for him this summer. He said he hoped Americans could learn about hard-working Japanese baseball players and also about the Fukuoka SoftBank Hawks’ great tradition. Ever since Mr. Oh took over as manager in 1995, the team’s fortunes have turned around. Everyone credits the work ethic instilled by Mr. Oh.
The Japanese players work very hard and put in long hours at the ballpark, significantly longer than we do in the States. Mr. Oh told us how he feels that it is necessary for the Japanese player to outwork everyone else because generally they are not as strong as the foreign players from around the world. This, he said, is the only way they can keep up.
Mr. Oh told us how fundamentals have to be perfect, and the players here definitely believe in that. Our team, for example, takes 45-to-50 minutes of infield practice every day. In the U.S., infield drills last about 10-to-15 minutes. I’ve watched our team take infield practice and it is intense. Players dive all over the infield. Even the superstars get into it, and that is something you would never see in the U.S. If a star player back in the States dove during infield practice, the team might end that drill to make sure no one gets hurt. But there is something unique about watching Japan’s highest-paid players dive 10 times during a drill. You quickly pick up on the sense of pride that goes into the Japanese work ethic. And that’s what Mr. Oh would like the rest of the world to see and appreciate.
I was also surprised to hear Mr. Oh explain to us that we should not view our time in Japan as the end of our career. He said it is his desire for us to do well here and have success -- and then ultimately go back to the U.S. and make it back to the big leagues. There, he wants us to share with Americans the great influence the Japanese game has had on us. I can say this, I have barely been here a week and I already feel a difference.
I’ve always felt at this point in my career, I’ll go where I am wanted. But you can’t help but want to fulfill Mr. Oh’s goal for his American ballplayers. He’s a true ambassador of the game and his pride in his country’s ability to teach the game correctly is important to him. I have played for some managers that are just a name and delegate the teaching part of their job to their coaching staff. But Mr. Oh, at 66, views himself as a teacher, not just a manager, and he truly believes he can still develop his players at the major-league level.
Mr. Oh believes strongly in what the Japanese call “en.” He is convinced it is no accident four Americans were brought together this year to play for him. He believes this team is special. If we don’t win the Japan Series, we will be considered a major disappointment. He promises to be hard on us and very demanding. He believes that is what it will take to get the most out of us. Mr. Oh will not allow himself to be held accountable for a lack of effort. He will give us everything he has and he expects the same from us in return.
This man loves the game and has the passion of a child. He can’t get enough of it. Not even cancer could keep him off the baseball field. He is truly a living legend who takes great pride in leaving his mark on generations of players that follow him. I feel fortunate to have met him, spend an evening with him and look forward to playing for him.
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February 10th
We had another off day yesterday, which was nice. I only wish my family could have been here. Miyazaki is so beautiful. We would have had a nice time here. It’s a shame I couldn’t bring them.
I got up in the morning to mail a package to my son’s first-grade class back in Georgia. I didn’t tell him I was sending anything so it will make a nice surprise. There are 12 kids in his class and I sent them each a notebook and a big eraser with the team logo on it. I also sent some Japanese yen so his teacher could show them what foreign currency looks like. I included enough so that each child could take home a 10 and 1 yen coin.
This was actually my second attempt to mail the package. The first time I sent it through the bell stand here at the Sheraton. It was quite a lengthy process. I had to fill out seven pages of customs and some other forms. It took so long that I started in the morning and had to continue the paperwork when I got back from workouts. The only way to send an international package from the hotel was FedEx. After about 20 minutes of conversation with the FedEx rep on the phone, she decides to tell me it will cost $200 to send my box to Georgia. She could have saved me a lot of time by telling me that in the first place.
So with FedEx no longer an option, one of the team interpreters, Taka, accompanied me to a regular post office. This was a mini-adventure. Taka told the cabbie where to go, but he insisted on trying a closer post office first. Alas, they didn’t ship internationally. So we moved on to a second post office. Guess what? They didn’t ship internationally either. So then we went to a third post office -- the one that Taka told him to go to in the first place.
This post office was much more convenient. All I needed to do was fill out one paper and the package was on its way to Georgia for ¥5700 (about $46). The cab driver agreed to knock down our fare from ¥3400 to ¥3000 when we got back to the hotel. What a guy!
After the post office my American teammates and I took a road trip to the local mall. The Aeon Mall in Miyazaki is not much different from the many malls that I have been to in the States, complete with regular stores such as Gap, Tommy Hilfiger, Sports Authority, a movie theater, an arcade and a food court. The only major difference was everything was written in Japanese, so we Americans stuck out like sore thumbs. We got lots of looks, especially Buck, by far the biggest American in our group. Eventually a group of high school girls realized we are Hawks players and they went crazy.
Taka and I entered a music store and I bought an acoustic guitar. Now, I admit, I don’t really play guitar. But last spring training I lived with two guys who played guitar, and that inspired me to finally try. In my first recognizable mid-life crisis moment, last spring I decided on a whim to buy a guitar package off one of those home-shopping networks. The Esteban guitar came with a case, picks, amp, DVDs and some other stuff.
Did I really think I was going to learn enough guitar, cut a CD and go on tour? I’m not really sure what the plan was. All I know is that the famed musician Esteban set the bait and reeled me in. I truly believe he preys on the wannabe musician in most of us. And I did take the time to learn a little. The baseball life provides lots of free time, especially on the road. I remember looking back at the past decade and kicking myself for not doing something more constructive with my time besides sleeping past noon every day.
You could say my wife wasn’t thrilled at the purchase. She was sick of the guitar before I completely unpacked everything. I didn’t bring my guitar to Japan because of space. But when I walked by the music store, visions of becoming an American rock star in Japan sped through my head and, thus, I am now the proud owner of two acoustic guitars.
I thought I’d surprise my wife by this purchase, so I sent her a web-cam video of me playing guitar. When she woke up, we talked on the phone while she downloaded the video. She was elated. My wife is so in tune with my music career that it took my 6-year-old daughter to tell her that the guitar I was using in the video was different from the one I have at home. The Esteban guitar is black and the Japan guitar is natural wood color. She thought I was using the one I already had, the one that is currently sitting in my office in Georgia. She is a big supporter of this second career of mine.
After our trip to the mall, the four of us had dinner plans with the scout who signed us all to our Japanese contracts. His name is Shin Mizumori and he invited us out for yakiniku (Korean BBQ). It eventually became a party of 12. It was my first time in a yakiniku restaurant and, speaking now as a veteran, if you’ve never experienced it, it is worth at least one try.
The setup is very traditional. You don’t wear shoes and you sit at one of those really low tables. The food is unique. The meat is uncooked arranged on a plate. I would tell you the names of the three different kinds of meat we ordered, but I have no idea what they were. I do remember that one was tongue. Whose tongue, exactly, I don’t remember. But don’t be alarmed by the thought of eating tongue. I’ve been in Japan about 12 days and this was not my first tongue. It’s the kind of thing that if you don’t think about it, you would never know it isn’t regular meat. I was just hoping my animal kept his tongue to himself.
What makes yakiniku fun is the way the meat is cooked. Or, I should say, the way you cook the meat. Each table has its own small gas grill and you cook the meat the way you like it. All the pieces arrive at your table already bite size, and you put the meat on the grill using chopsticks. Each piece takes only about a minute or so. And it pretty much turns into a free-for-all with meat coming and going off the grill at a pretty steady pace.
We had seven guys at our table with two grills, and I bet we ate a few pounds of meat. Korean BBQ is a meal that has to be eaten with cold beer, much like American BBQ, if you ask me. I don’t drink very often, but I indulged in my first taste of Asahi, which is one of Japan’s most popular brews. The meal was outstanding -- a really masculine way to eat meat. I think we all had a good time, especially because the meal was on Shin.
The next day I threw my second session of live batting practice. Just like in the States, pitchers throw batting practice to their own hitters. The difference from traditional BP is that it is done from the pitcher’s mound, the full 60 feet 6 inches. The hitters also know what pitches are coming because you tell them. Most hitters in the States don’t swing that much in live BP, especially early in camp. They will look at what you have to offer and “track” pitches -- that means they watch the pitch the entire way from the pitcher’s hand to the catcher’s glove. They may take a swing or two, but usually not too many.
My first live BP session went pretty well, but Sugimoto San (the pitching coach) jokingly told me I needed to be better this time. Well, I surprised myself, because I probably was better in this session. I felt really good. As much as I tried not to think about it, I couldn’t help but want to make a strong impression on the coaches watching me. Mr. Oh seemed pleased with how my session went and that was good enough for me. I also was hoping to leave an impression on my new teammates by breaking a bat or two, but no such luck.
The weekend the Japanese will celebrate National Founders Day. In 660 BC the first Japanese emperor was crowned on February 11. That means people are off from work on Monday, so there is a big crowd expected for our workout here in Miyazaki. We probably had nearly 30,000 people in attendance today, and more are expected tomorrow. These big crowds have been fun. It will be tough to keep Phi Slamma Jamma contained.
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