1994. Tony Howard, producer, director, and writer. Tim Westhoven, videographer. Produced by WBGU-TV at Bowling Green State University.
In 1994, PBS stations across the country broadcast an extended nine-segment series on the history of baseball in the United States by celebrated documentary maker Ken Burns. It was an extraordinarily well-researched and written series, rich in footage and astute interviews. Many of those same station broadcast at the same time this one-hour documentary on baseball in Japan. It is unfair, indeed impossible to compare the two projects because of the vast differences in budget and staffing. The juxtaposition, however, does remind us of the appalling differences in our understandings and representations of the same object of analysis—here, baseball—as it appears in the United States and Japan. Ken Burns detailed the transformations of this sport as it was situated within metropolitan developments, ethnic and racial cleavages, and a changing corporate landscape. Each of the nine hours (from “First Inning” to “Ninth Inning”) was devoted to a decade in its history. “Baseball in Japan” looks briefly at its history—as backdrop—but announces its perspective in the narrator’s opening lines, which I have quoted above. Their baseball is “a reflection of Japanese societal values,” and the value it most clearly reflects is “samurai discipline.” This is—and here they appropriate Robert Whiting’s title without attribution—”baseball samurai style.” Recall, of course, Michael Shapiro’s short essay on baseball that we read at the outset of the course. The video is a distressing excursion (back) into national character-land, and I confess to misgivings about showing it in the class documentary series. It is not without any redeeming features. Usefully for my purposes, most of the documentary was filmed at Kôshien Stadium (which they rightly claim as the “Mecca” of baseball in Japan). This is the site of the annual high school baseball tournaments and the home of the Hanshin Tigers professional club, with whom I have spent parts of the last three seasons and about whom I am presently writing. Most of the other footage was shot at Hiroshima Municipal Stadium, with the Hiroshima Toyo Carp (since then, the Mazda group sold its financial interest in the team and it is now simply the Hiroshima Carp, the only one of the twelve clubs under municipal ownership). The interviewee most relied on is American sports journalist Larry Fuhrman. The Tigers then-manager Katsuhiro Nakamura also appears frequently, along with several players from Hanshin and Hiroshima. These include Terry O’Malley, an outstanding player with Hanshin from 1991-1994, and Marty Brown, who played for the Carp in 1992-1994. Japanese players include Hanshin’s Mayumi and Nakada and the Carp’s Kobayakawa.Despite the title, this is a portrait of professional baseball in Japan; the several forms of amateur play are not shown. It is structured by moving through a series of topics, each of which it manages to present in highly stereotypical terms.
Rules
The video notes a few minor differences: the ball used in Japan is a few millimeters smaller than the American ball, there is no infield grass, and there were at the time of filming time limits on games (four hours in the Pacific League, four hours and fifteen minutes in the Central League). Of more significance, it feels, is that Japanese umpires have a wider strike zone (which is in fact not the case).
Strategies
Here come the stereotypes. Japanese, the video insists, play a much more conservative game; they are “not as aggressive” as we are. The segment dwells on strong imperative to score first run at all costs, as a psychological tool. Thus, managers are led to order many bunts to advance a runner (Nakamura is interviewed here).
Pitching
Presented as “the strongest part of the Japanese game,” but here too, pitchers invariably choose finesse over power. They are conservative and avoid challenging hitters (O’Malley is quoted here). The video relates this to the larger society; in the US there is “lots of confrontation in society” while “Japanese avoid confrontation”—therefore pitching styles differ. Starters will go longer into the game in Japan because pitching staffs are not as deep. This leads to an overuse and early burnout of the best pitchers, which the video acknowledges as contradicting the Japanese strength in long-term thinking and planning. It poses the question of how to resolve this contradiction and finds the answer in “samurai obedience” Pitchers, like all players, obey the managers without question, and willingly sacrifice their longevity for the good of the team. “Warriors are never selfish and cowardly,” and they cite “Iron Man” Inao, who pitched six of the seven games in defeating the Giants in the 1956 Japan Series, and “Golden Arm” Kaneda.Umpires
Again the comparison is between US umpires who are assertive and stand up to players, and Japanese umpires, who are less assertive and don’t command the respect of players or managers. They are occasionally pummeled and must tolerate more physical contact. Their calls are “unpredictable” and “irrational” and Marty Brown explains how a ball he and other players knew to be a home run bounced back on to the field and was ruled a “ground-rule triple.”
Fans
The video-makers go into the stands at Kôshien to give us extended footage of fan club cheering (including the balloon release in the middle of the “Lucky Seventh”) and interviews with Hanshin fans and one club official (Vice-Head Ishida). [O’Malley also is used to comment on their passion, while later a Japanese player complains that sometimes their cheering is distracting.] The video-makers seem puzzled that fans believe that their cheering actually helps players to hit. They are impressed with the “non-stop” and “awesome display of energy” by the rabid fans, many of whom they claim “do not have that much knowledge of baseball.” They itemize three “functions” that they believe the cheering serves:
- collective cheering “satisfies the Japanese need for harmony” and “allows them to be part of the group”
- fans believe cheering inspires and energizes the team (the video-makers clearly find this a dubious claim)
- the cheering “acts as a tension release for the normally stoic Japanese” (and they go on to suggest by interviews that this can get out of hand)
You will find a different perspective on these Hanshin Tiger fan clubs in my assigned article.
Other features of the ballpark
Brief mention is given the female stadium announcers, the post-game “hero interviews” of the player-of-the-game (who, they say, always modestly acknowledges the team support), and the ballpark food (shots of yakitori, noodles, and other “Oriental” delights)
History
About half way through, the video shifts to a quick review of baseball history in Japan, beginning with Horace Wilson and other US physical education teachers who introduced the sport into Japanese schools in early Meiji (1870s). [Earlier in the video there had been a brief segment on the two “greatest” players, Sadaharu Oh and Shigeo “Burning Man” Nagashima. There is footage on early school baseball and the university team contests with US teams. The message is the emphasis in school baseball on the sport as a “moral platform to teach purity and discipline,” based on martial arts. It segues into professional baseball by noting several visits by US professional touring groups (first, the Reach All-Stars in 1914 and most famously, the tour in 1934 that lionized Babe Ruth and also included Lou Gehrig, Jimmy Foxx, Lefty O’ Doul, and others). This was the impetus for Shôriki’s sponsorship of a Yomiuri Giants team (some rare footage) and the start of a professional league in 1936. Further brief segments of post-World War II developments, but the video quickly shifts back to its national character storyline.
Practice and the ethic of hard work
Japanese start baseball young and the documentary suggests that because of their “orientation to the group,” they devote themselves to it exclusively all year round. Individual style is frowned upon and “everyone has the same batting style.” “This sameness has its roots in the Bushidô code of the samurai. This society doesn’t appreciate difference.” Players must give up everything. ‘This leads to a segment on hard practices and the claim that “practice is everything.” Interestingly, after dwelling on the “Marine Corps-style training,” the video then quotes Kobayakawa of the Carp, and Mayumi and Nakada of the Tigers who all dispute the value of hard practices and argue that they are counterproductive. But the video rephrases the question into a comparison of US baseball as “fun” and Japanese baseball as “work.” Again, though, Nomura and Mayumi are shown commenting that neither likes hard practices—they’re work—but loves the games. Fuhrman is used to mediate, claiming that ewell, they enjoy it, but not as much as American players’!Foreign players
The segment on US players emphasizes the shift from past use of over-the-hill MLB players to present use of at-their-prime players. As always, though, they are brought in for their power hitting, paid much higher salaries than even the team’s Japanese stars, and weighted with huge expectations.
Managers
Finally, the video takes up the position of the Japanese manager, who is presented as “paternalistic to the players,” having a closer relationship than the more business-like relationship of US managers and their players. The Japanese team is “more like an extended family”—the manager is often a marriage go-between, and there is “close contact because they are all together so much.” [This is now changing “a little bit.”] ‘The final segment asks what the prospects are for a true World Series. “Are the Japanese ready for the global competition?” The Japanese, their interviewees conclude, are smaller and have less power than both American and Cuban players (although “perhaps” have better fundamentals). That would seem to imply that equal world competition is a long way off.
Ian Littlewood pointed out that stereotypes are erroneous images, but not in the sense of being totally false or baseless. Rather, they are highly selective versions of a reality, pernicious because they are so exaggerated and oversimplified. As with other aspects of Japanese life, we must confront the essentializing thrust and judgmental (i.e., ethnocentric) tone of such a seductively simple rendering of “baseball samurai style.”