The Meaning of Ichiro (57 page)

to Waseda and Keio was described in
Kindai Puro Sup
tsu no Reikishi Shakai Gaku,
by Koichi Kiku, published by
Fumaido Shuppan
, Tokyo, 1993, p. 102.

The Waseda trip to the U.S. is described in Masaru Ikei’s book,
Hakkyu Taiheiyo wo Wataru,
Chuko Shinsho, Tokyo, 1976, pp. 46-51. Also see the article in the
San Francisco Chronicle,
October 31, 1996, C-l, entitled “U.S.-Japanese Baseball History—It Happened in 1905.” Also see
Kindai Puro Sup
tsu no Reikishi Shakai Gaku,
by Koichi Kiku, published by
Fumaido Shuppan,
Tokyo, 1993, p. 102, pp. 100-122. Waseda pitcher Yasushi Kono, who started every game of the tour, earned the nickname “Iron
Kono,” and was occasionally greeted by cries of “On to St. Petersburg.” Iso Abe, the leader of that Waseda contingent to the
States, envisioned baseball as a peaceful substitute for war. He recommended modifying Ichiko’s
bushido
approach and maintained that the Anglo-American concept of fair play could be applied as well. He added that it wasn’t necessary
to practice every day all year to play one game. Needless to say, his imprecations were ignored. “Superior to that of the
U.S.” from
Saikin Yaky
Gijutsu,
written by Makoto Hashido and published by
Haku Bunkan,
Tokyo, 1905, pp. 5-7.

In Tokyo the Keio-Waseda rivalry grew so heated that, after opposing groups of supporters confronted each other on the streets
of the city in the midst of a three-game series in 1906, authorities suspended matches between them for two decades.

About
Bushido

The term “Bushido” means “way of the warrior” and refers to the code of the samurai in feudal Japan, which stressed loyalty,
duty, obligation and obedience and valued honor above life. It has been dismissed by some historians as an “invented tradition,”
because it was essentially a warrior code that had been created in the 17th century after the major civil wars had been concluded
and the samurai were no longer needed to fight in battle. Although the original idea developed during the Kamakura Era, 1192-1333,
the name Bushido was not used until the 16th century with the advent of the new peacetime era of the Tokugawa shogunate (1603-1867).
The concept of
Bushido
was something that masterless samurai used to market their skills as martial arts instructors, bodyguards and peacekeepers
and was refined to incorporate Confucianist, Zen and Buddhist thought. In the mid-19th century, it was made the basis of ethical
training for the whole society, with the emperor replacing the feudal lord as an object of loyalty and sacrifice, and as such
it played a role in the rise of Japanese nationalism and mustering popular support for wartime efforts to come. Embedded in
its value system were piety, frugal living, loyalty, selflessness, kindness, honesty, learning, filial and ceremonial propriety
and military skill. It was even said to parallel Anglo-American concepts like chivalry and fair play in the 19th century.

The Way of the Samurai received wide exposure in the early part of the 20th century, after the publication of Inazo Nitobe’s
English-language tome
Bushido,
which was an attempt to introduce “traditional Japanese culture” to the West. Some critics characterized it as an overcooked
myth given its overly rosy portrayal of old samurai as men of highest honor while ignoring the brutality and treachery they
often practiced. “Professional killers,” some historians have called them.

That said, however, the impact of
Bushido
on the Japanese culture and consciousness since the time of
The Book of Five Rings,
written in the 17th century, can hardly be dismissed. Generations of children have heard its core principles—dedication to
self-perfection, submergence of ego, martial spirit, development of inner (spiritual) strength, courage—expounded by their
fathers, teachers, coaches and, in adulthood, corporate bosses, right to the present day.

About the 1,000-Fungo Drill

The “1,000-fungo drill” does not usually mean a player has to field a thousand ground balls. The idea is to make him dash
to his left and to his right and then back again, chasing balls hit just out of his reach until he becomes exhausted. It is
a spirit-strengthening drill, not a conditioning one. In the Morinji Camp, such drills consisted usually of 200 balls per
player, although Shiraishi was said to have been worked much longer. A similar drill—with fly balls—was used for outfielders.
According to Kazuo Matsui, “There are a lot of my former teammates I know of who have done up to 700 or 800 …” (January 16,
2003. Seibu Stadium).

About Mihara and “Gattsu”

Osamu Mihara’s managerial career was distinguished, from others of his era, by the fact that he never raised his hand in anger
to his players. Some say this was because he served as a private in Japan’s wartime Imperial Army and had been routinely punched
by his superiors. At any rate, he was fond of saying, “I can win without hitting my players”
(Kon-shu no hon,
Saichi Maruyama,
Mainichi Shimbun,
November 24, 2002). He also had a strong dislike for base-by-base style of play, preferring the long ball instead. He recalled
with special disgust a game with the Giants when he was their manager in the 1947-1950 era. Slugger Noboru Aota, batting third
in the order, took it upon himself to sacrifice bunt with runners on second and third and no out. But Mihara did not mind
abusing his pitchers. The Lions’ Kazuhisa Inao (who won 42 games in 1961) appeared in six of the seven games of the 1958 Japan
Series. In the 1958 pennant stretch, Mihara started Inao in 18 of the team’s last 27 games and used him in relief in seven
others. Inao’s career, not surprisingly, was over by the time he was 32, thanks to a damaged arm. See
Majitsushi—Mihara Osamu to Nishitetsu Lions;
Yasunori Tateishi,
Shogakkuan,
2002; and
Puro yaky
Kiroku no Techo,
Isao Chiba,
Baseball Magazine,
2001.

Yale anthropologist William Kelly, who has been studying Japanese baseball, argues that “guts” did not become “ideologically
central” in pro baseball until the V-9 era of Kawakami and the Yomiuri Giants, 1965-1973. This would come as a surprise to
Mr. Inao, as well as to Motoshi Fujita, who pitched 359 innings for Mizuhara and his Giants in 1959, and to Tadashi Sugiura,
who pitched all four games of the 1959 series against the Giants for the Nankai Hawks, coming off a season in which he won
38 games while pitching 371 innings. These individuals uncomplainingly pitched their arms out for their managers, relying
on “guts” when the inevitable pain from so much wear and tear manifested itself in their elbows and shoulders. Their careers
ended early, but as Hiroshi Gondo, a pitcher who threw 429 innings in 1961, put it, “The code of Bushido was strong … Many
times my fingers and arms hurt, but I could not refuse my manager’s request.” Inao, for his part, continued to speak of his
great affection for Mihara long after his retirement, despite his teammate Yasumitsu Toyoda’s bitter complaints that Mihara
shortened Inao’s career. “Heart is the important thing,” he said. “Younger players should pitch more.”
Toyoda Home page.
Toyoda/Inao interview. Sugiura often expressed similar sentiments, despite his own arm-damaged shortened career.

Mr. Kelly’s comments on “guts” would, of course, also be news to the men who participated in the Morinji Camp. (See “The Blood
and Guts of Japanese Professional Baseball, by William W. Kelly. Department of Anthropology. Yale University,
[email protected]
for the professor’s “ideologically central” and other such remarks contained therein.)

About Tobita and
Seishin Yaky

Shortly before his death in 1967, Tobita did an extensive interview with NHK in which he continued to cite the Ichiko approach
as the foundation for all Japanese baseball. However, he also expressed his concern that modern baseball players were overdoing
things in practice. “We were thought to have practiced hard in my era,” he said, “but watching these guys today at Waseda,
it looks a lot tougher. Maybe I’m just getting old, but it seems more regimented.”

Concerned over a slump in the fortunes of his alma mater, he instigated the removal from power of yet another in a long line
of Waseda managers noted for their Spartan training, Renzo Ishii, a.k.a. “Renzo the Ogre,” and had him replaced with a former
Waseda star and one of the luminaries of amateur baseball, a witty, warmhearted individualist, Tokichiro Ishii, who believed
that “baseball should be fun.” Tokichiro’s first words as manager—“It’s too cold today. Let’s forget about practice”—were
revolutionary and went down in Waseda history. His idea of a manager’s duties was to encourage his players to make choices
(including what position they played) and to bring out the best in their talents through a mix of discipline and laughter.
He ushered in a new golden era at the university, where the watchword was “take risks, realize the joy of the game, and get
out of the meeting as soon as possible and go drink.” He is one of the few lifelong amateurs to be enshrined in the Japanese
Hall of Fame.

Elsewhere, however,
seishin yaky
continued to hold sway. At Meiji University,
“konj
, konj
”
was the watchword for four decades under manager Kiichiro Shimaoka. At Keio, there was a sign in the baseball clubhouse—“3,000
swings in the morning; 3,000 more in the afternoon. If you don’t do that, you can’t win”—that reminded players what their
priorities were. Said Keio player Shozo Eto, who later went on to coach and manage in the pros, “If you screwed up, they made
you do
seiza,
sitting on your heels with a bat lodged behind your knees, under your thighs. There’s nothing more painful. I’d rather be
beaten up any day.” Midnight practices were not rare.