| March 23rd
Things have slowed as we get ready for Opening Day. We have four days left with no games to play, which is unusual for me. One of the days we have off and we'll have practice on the other three. You know how they love to practice in Japan. It's not the casual two-hour practice that I'm used to. We meet at 10 a.m. and I haven't left before 2 p.m. I realize that's still short work hours for the rest of the world.
My spring training finished well. I accomplished a lot. I threw well but made just enough mistakes to get an idea of what to expect during the season. This was the first time I've ever finished an exhibition season and have to look up my final numbers. I had a general idea of what they were, but I couldn't have told you them off the top of my head. One of the reporters filled me in on my spring: 9 IP, 3 hits, 7 strikeouts, 1 walk and 2 runs.
The one walk was key. That's always been an issue for me. With rumors of a smaller strike zone in Japan, I had concerns. Little did I know balking would a bigger problem for me. I feel like I have corrected that issue, but I can tell my coaches are still concerned.
Another small issue I've had is with the baseballs. When you are given a new ball in the game, they are sparkling white. In the Major Leagues new baseballs are rubbed with Mississippi Mud. That helps take away the slickness, giving you a slightly better grip. If the weather is cool, which it has been, the balls can get a little slippery.
I decided that when I get a new baseball right out of the package I am going to take some dirt from the mound and rub it up. This, however, caused a minor controversy.
After my last inning of the exhibition season (I struck out two hitters on changeups), one of the umpires met with my pitching coach and I at the dugout. He told me I couldn't spit on the ball during the regular season. I assured him I didn't spit directly on the ball. Buck was within earshot of us and replied, "Yes, you did." Then he sarcastically encouraged me not to be a cheater, to play the game fairly. Hitters always complain about pitchers' tactics. I started to think that maybe I did spit on the ball but didn't realize it. I then asked Sugimoto San if he saw my impressive changeups that inning and asked him, "Don't you think it was worth it for me to spit on the ball?" I think that was lost in translation.
In all seriousness, the Japanese players take cheating very seriously. Players back home in the States will try just about anything to improve their play, illegal or not. That's pretty much how we got to the point we are at with steroids. In Japan the players seem to have more honor. Cheating in any fashion is looked upon here as poor sportsmanship.
I got proof of this firsthand in practice one day. I told the pitchers and pitching coaches ways that pitchers try to cheat and I really had their attention. I explained sandpaper, shaving cream, pine tar, and some of the most bizarre attempts at scuffing a baseball I have seen. I think they were slightly shocked that pitchers would go so far in their attempts to alter a baseball just to get a little more sink or to make the ball cut.
I don't condone cheating and I don't participate in it anymore. But you have to remember one thing: most guys have either cheated, or at least have thought about it at one point in their careers. I agree two wrongs don't make a right, but don't forget that for the majority of my career I pitched through the untested steroid era. We knew what guys were doing but there was nothing we could or really wanted to do about it. Pitchers just sometimes try to level the playing field. Since 1968 the mound has been lowered, the DH has come into play, the baseballs have become harder and so have the bats. Throw in smaller ballparks and advancements in weight training and you can see why guys might take a chance at doctoring a baseball. And don't forget the ultimate motivation: good pitchers in the major leagues make a lot of money.
After I went through my lesson on how to use a scuffed baseball properly, Sugimoto San essentially called Americans dirty players. Those weren't his exact words but I knew what he was getting at. That is an easy observation but the first time you throw that two-seam fastball that sinks an extra four-to-six inches, you may reconsider your stance.
Once the roster was trimmed to the final 28 players, the team had its annual dinner before the season. It took place in Tenjin, which is basically the downtown area of Fukuoka. It's a busy part of town with lots of restaurants, shopping and bars. The dinner took place at a very upscale restaurant. We were having shabu-shabu, which is a style of boiled meat and vegetables. Supposedly it is very healthy, though I'm not sure I am ready to believe that.
The night started in unusual fashion. Our team captain led us in a toast. Each player was given a small glass of beer. After Kazumi Saitoh finished, we all said "Kam-pie" (cheers) and took a sip. I don't think a team would ever do this in the States. Certainly over my career I have spent time with teammates and shared a drink but I can't ever imagining a mandatory team function that was being shot on video including such a drinking ritual.
The food was amazing. We started with raw seafood that I found a little suspicious. I enjoy raw fish, just not all of it. There are still some funky looking and smelling dishes that my stomach is not ready for. The presentation was excellent. Two people shared an appetizer tray that had raw lobster and fatty tuna, among other Japanese delicacies. The shell of the lobster was placed right in the middle or each tray in such a way that said he or she was proud to have fulfilled its mission to be eaten by me.
Next came the shabu-shabu. On each table there were two portable gas burners with one large pot of water on each. As the water reached a small boil we were served raw meat. A thinly sliced, almost shredded beef is ideal for shabu-shabu.
Here's how it works: You pick up a slice of meat using chopsticks, swirl it in the water for maybe 5-10 seconds, pull it out, dip it in one of the two sauces and eat it. It was surprising how quickly the beef turns brown. But I assure you, it was cooked plenty in that short amount of time.
It was a really fun way to eat. The main course was made up from some of the fish I ate earlier, and this also was delicious. The only down side was the skimming (my word). Each pot of water came with appeared to be a pool skimmer. You have to skim off some of the meat residue that settles on top of the water. Maybe it's fat? Anyway, Monna, one of translators, took care of that. That's one of those times you play the foreigner card and act like you don't how to do it so someone else does it for you. I'm learning.
I brought two cigars along just in case it was appropriate to have one after dinner. Monna encouraged me to light mine after we finished our sushi and then have ice cream & fruit as other people were smoking their cigarettes. I was not sure if that was a good idea, so I had him ask one of the team administrators if it was all right. He gave me the OK, but before I could get it lit Sugimoto San suggested I did not smoke it. So I did not.
Buck was disappointed because he also was in the mood for one. So after dinner we went looking for a spot to have a smoke. We found a small bar that had dartboards, which was perfect. Monna joined us.
Buck won the first game of cricket. The owner of the bar came up to us in the middle of the second game and complimented us on our dart skills, then challenged us to a game of team cricket. It smelled like a set-up to me. If we won they would pick up our tab, and if they won they would get two free tickets to Opening Day. We smoked them. But in good American sportsmanship we agreed to still leave these two guys tickets to the game.
They wanted a revenge match. This time 701 was the game, which is not my favorite, and we lost pretty handily. In the rubber match we went back to cricket and it was no contest. I finished them off with a double bulls eye; they still had three or four numbers open.
Overall it was a fun night. It was good to meet some random Hawks fans and enjoy a couple of rounds of darts with them. It seemed like a really fun night for them too. The owner invited us back anytime.
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March 24th
Finally, Opening Day.
We're coming off four straight days without games, which was unusual. I don't like going too long without pitching in a game, so I was definitely glad to start the season.
The pre-game festivities were pretty interesting. In Major League Baseball you see a lot of cool things on opening day: military flyovers and special guests throwing out the ceremonial first pitch and singing the national anthem. Here in Japan the idea is very similar. There was a group of native drummers that put on a really neat festive show before the game. Many of the drummers were young children in their early teens, and some were even younger. They were all decked out in native dress. It was entertaining.
It was nice that they did not introduce both teams, player-by-player. I've never understood why we do that at home. Announce the home team? Sure. But the visitors, too? Why put the Blue Jays through the humiliation of being announced individually in Yankee Stadium? It takes a lot of time and a lot of heartbreak for the players that have to take the walk of shame and get booed by New York's finest, especially the good players.
Both teams lined up in number order and we met between home plate and the pitcher's mound. Both managers were introduced, and then someone that I'm guessing was once a famous opera singer sang what I assume was the Japanese national anthem.
Earlier in the clubhouse we were treated to quite a pre-game spread. These are the days I miss being a starting pitcher. When I was a starter in the majors I could use my four off days to work out -- and pig out. When you don't have to be physically ready for that day's game, you can really do some damage to a big-league spread. And I had wished today was one of those days for me here in Japan.
There were king crab legs, tons of sushi and rolls that were delicious. The spread seemed to be endless. The most eye-catching menu item though was the grouper. It wasn't breaded or grilled. It was just there, right in the middle of our dining room spread. I'm not exactly sure how they cooked it, but this huge fish, which was maybe two-feet long, was completely in tack. That includes head, eyes, tail, teeth and all. It was already cooked, so people just came up to the table and picked at him (or her). My first thought was, "You have to be joking," but then I ripped out some of his insides and it was surprisingly good. I keep wondering if I am ever going to get to a point with my Japanese dining experience when I can actually say, "I've seen this before."
Too bad for us, the game didn't go well. We played like garbage. We made errors and we didn't pitch well. Our offense did a nice job scoring five runs, but we gave up eight runs.
My first real game experience in the bullpen was interesting. As a lefthanded reliever, I've been trained to get my arm ready quickly. When the phone rings and your number is called, you warm up as fast as you can. But that is not exactly the case here. There is going to be an adjustment period to figure out how exactly this system works.
I was told on five separate occasions to start warming up. Four of those times, I was ready to get into the game, but eventually was told to sit back down. In my 13 years playing professional baseball, getting up and sitting down four times tied a personal record. (The fifth time I actually entered the game.) After the game I was told I threw 88 pitches in the bullpen combined. In case you are wondering, that is a lot -- a real lot.
We were down 6-4 with men on second and third when I came in to face a lefty. He hit my pitch into the ground in front of home plate and the ball easily bounced over my first basemen's head. Perfect. A nice "turf hit" to start my season and both inherited runners scored. I like everything about pitching at home except the surface. Our stadium would be perfect if it had natural grass, which it could because we have a retractable roof. Nevertheless, that was the only hitter I faced so I have 1 game with 0 innings pitched. My runner did not score so my ERA is --- instead of infinity.
For a lefty specialist there is nothing worse than allowing another pitcher's runners to score and then leaving the game without recording an out. You really feel like you did nothing that game, which is basically true.
After the game our bullpen coach, Takayama San, spoke to me about my warm-up routine. The bullpens are run quite different here. I told him I only need 10-to-15 pitches to get ready and that I am used to getting ready quickly. We'll figure it out. It's just going to take some time. What I do know is that at 34 years of age I have only so many bullets left and I prefer to use them in the fight, not at the practice range.
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