National Phenomenon and Cultural Icon: Baseball in Japan
A Unique History of Cultural Exchange and Identity
Since its introduction to the country in 1872 by American merchants, Baseball or “Besuboru” -commonly known as 野球 [やきゅう; yakyū,] combining the characters for field and ball- has seeped into the very basis of Japanese cultural identity. Its continually proliferating impact on Japanese society can best be understood by delving into the rich sense of community, history, and tradition brought to the game by fans and players alike. At a fundamental level, Baseball reflects one of Japan’s key traits, its ability to take a foreign idea or practice and generate a profound iteration all its own.
Japanese fans are often surprised to learn that Baseball is also considered the national sport of several countries [example nations include Cuba, the Dominican Republic, and the US]
Although present in the country for decades prior, the sport didn’t experience large-scale public fascination until the period of American occupation in the years following the conclusion of World War II. Popular among American soldiers and the communities they were stationed in, the sport quickly grew in scope and appeal. Originally formed in 1936, the first professional Japanese baseball league had grown large enough to form two leagues by 1950, establishing what is now Nippon Professional Baseball, the highest level of competition Japan has to offer.
Cheerleader encouraging the crowd at a Waseda University match sometime in the 1960’s
It is within this transitional period of early commercial appreciation that the construction of the “Samurai baseball” philosophy can first be seen to root. Whether a statement of National sovereignty or cultural independence, the inflection of warrior-like customs applied to athletics lead to the eventual differentiation between the American Major League Baseball [MLB] and the Japanese Nippon Professional Baseball [NPB] visible today.
The Retainment of Wa: Revival of the Warrior Code in “Fighting Spirit”
“Unflagging Effort”
-Sadaharu Oh
Famously noted in Robert Whiting’s the Chrysanthemum and the Bat [1977], Baseball in Japan is in many ways not a high-stakes competition, but instead a masterfully coordinated rendition of “outdoor kabuki.”[Kabuki theatre is known for the stylization of its drama, as well as the glamorous costumes and elaborate kumadori make-up worn by some of its performers.] After all, unlike the American iteration, a match can end in a tie.
While the game may present a set of literal rules to abide by, it is an unspoken code of conduct that results in the peculiar deviation of cultural pathways among societies. Universal in existence, but not in content, these “unwritten rules” are tied closely to a Nation’s Identity within the global framework of the sport. In Japan, this code manifests in the concept of “Wa,” a uniquely Japanese notion of team harmony. For many managers and coaches, achieving this oneness is the pinnacle of what any and every team must strive for. Therefore, it is to be expected that reaching Wa requires a dedication and perseverance largely unfathomable from the exterior.
Postcard showing a game played in Tokyo, 1936
Starting at the youth level, young players will practice daily, training hard for hours on end with few breaks for water or food. It is not uncommon for pitchers to throw over 200 pitches during practice, and then start a game the next day [American pitchers rarely throw more than 120 pitches and incorporate frequent rest days into their routine.] Players are expected to build chemistry and respect for their colleagues, as well as a powerful admiration for their coach, an almost immeasurable force of nature whose will is often law. To quote a friend, “Disrespecting your coach is like disrespecting the word of god.” It is through this rigid lifestyle and dedication to a supposed natural hierarchy that one may draw upon the similarities of Japanese Baseball to the ancient warrior code of “Bushido.”
Bushido, developed in accordance with the medieval feudal system’s dependence on the samurai class, was first introduced around the 13th century. It too emphasizes loyalty, diligence, dedication, and above all conformity within the system. The parallels are uncanny.
As Whiting puts it, “The good team is like a beautiful Japanese garden. Every tree, every rock, every blade of grass has its place. The smallest part ever so slightly out of place destroys the beauty of the whole.”
Koshien and the Revelations of Koko-Yakyu
“Train until you die”
-Japanese baseball proverb
As previously stated, the career of a player begins at a young age. It is no wonder then that the national phenomenon of “School Ball” has achieved such widespread appeal across the country. Baseball is at the top of the youth athletics food chain, and for good reason. The National High School Baseball Invitational and the National Highschool Baseball Championship -known respectively as “Spring Koshien” and “Summer Koshien”- experience widespread in person and Television viewership that rivals the NPB. Since 1915, Every spring and summer millions of parents, schoolmates, and hometown supporters attend the preliminary rounds of the tournament, with many games shown on local television networks and called on radio. Each game of the final stage at Hanshin Koshien Stadium in Nishinomiya is broadcasted nationally on NHK [NHK being the only public sector broadcaster in Japan].
For many young players, the dream of a victory at Koshien is all consuming. Third-year students in their final year will often collect dirt from the field as memorabilia, or bench warmers may use it as a motivational catalyst for future endeavours. Such passion often results in tears for those unfortunate enough to lose out, as every Japanese student athlete knows that in most cases, this is where their career will end. It can be said that from start to finish, from Kyushu to Hokkaido, for an NPB hopeful or a small-town hero, the dream begins and ends at Koshien.
Players take time to collect dirt from Hanshin stadium as a memento to their accomplishments
Fans and Fanatics, The Vibrancy of a National Passion
While the intricacies of player tradition and practice provide an endless venue of study, the nature of fans and communities united in their love for the game add something totally unquantified to the already complex recipe for Japanese baseball culture. In spectacles similar in scale and passion to the European football scene, thousands of eager supporters of all ages flood the massive venues where NPB matches are held. A whirlwind of chaotic choreography envelopes the stands, attendees shouting and cheering with every strike called and play made. Corporate sponsors employ professional cheer-quads with instruments, batons, and flamboyant team gear who lead fans in hyper-coordinated personal cheers for each player. Fans wave flags, bang noisemakers, and release colorful balloons into the air. The sheer atmosphere is alone worth attendance.
Some teams arrange special deals to bring in fans and keep attendance numbers high, whether a food and beer package or game-day souvenirs. For the Hanshin Tigers and Yomiuri Giants, no extra incentive is needed. The two teams have one of the most storied rivalries in the sport, much of which is a manifestation of the larger regional rivalry between Kansai and Kanto, something arguably as old as the Tokugawa Shogunate. The second oldest team in all of NPB [Yomiuri being the oldest], Hanshin is known for its history, rowdy fanbase, and relative underperformance in contrast with their Tokyo rivals. Many fans blame the Tiger’s lack of success on the “Curse of the Colonel,” in which some exaggerated celebrating during the team’s sole Japan series win resulted in the dumping of a KFC Colonel Sanders statue into Dotonburi Canal. Although the statue was since recovered in 2009, Hanshin hasn’t been back to the series finale, and Tiger’s fans haven’t taken kindly to Yomiuri’s continued success.
Viewed from Other Mediums
Considering its mass appeal, it should not come as a surprise that baseball commonly finds itself in a slew of popular media ranging from Anime, film, manga, video games, literature, and even poetry.
Airing on Japanese TV in spring 1968, Kyojin no Hoshi [Star of the Giants] follows the exploits of young Huuma Hoshi as he attempts to live out his dream and become a professional player like his father. This anime is particularly special, as it was the first sports manga to ever receive an anime adaptation to wide release.
Samurai Giants, another early-era Baseball anime produced by Madhouse,aired in the fall of 1973. Following rugged and disorderly protagonist Ban Bamba, who possesses the “spirit of a samurai,” a common character archetype during the first years of the genre’s composition.
H2 aired in 1995 to widespread acclaim and public viewership. Featuring the challenging and emotional conflicts commonplace in athlete and student life, it follows friends Hiro Kunimi and Hideo Tachibana as they chase their dreams and begin to understand their growing place in the world.
No baseball Anime catalogue is complete without Major, arguably the most popular production out there. Airing in fall 2004, it has been a staple of Anime since its release and still enjoys widespread viewership. While the plot features several archetypes typically cycled in this genre, characters are well- written with 3-dimensional development of personalities, and with a story that is biting it is no wonder it has retained continued success for over a decade.
In Closing and Thanks
“The American game has been assimilated; El Béisbol and Besuboru are different from ‘Baseball’”
-Peter Bjarkman
While sharing visually reminiscent similarities with its American counterpart, Besuboru truly is one of a kind. Having spent a significant portion of my life playing competitively back in the states, I too can attest to this difference. Baseball is a sport of connections, be they between fans, teammates, communities, or even nations. In the end, these differences in cultural application do not affect the profoundly universal love for the game shared globally. Regardless of national affiliation, when I watch the crowd roar or a player call out to his comrades in steadfast support, a warm sense of familiarity washes over me. Although there may exist a barrier in language, a common feeling can overcome what we lack in words. I think this may be the true merit of sport, the process of finding reflections of ourselves in others. It is only through my friendship with Kanta Miyashita-san and the experiences I’ve had playing with my teammates on the Toronto Whales that I’ve come to understand the beauty shared by both worlds. Thanks guys, ファイト!
About The Author
Zack Walker is a student, writer and creative based in Toronto, Canada. His work and passions include music, film, sports, urban culture and historical geography. Having grown up on Japanese film/anime, he thoroughly enjoys experiencing instances of unique cultural exchange and learning more about what makes the country special.
