You Gotta Have Wa
by Robert Whiting

No set of book reviews on baseball outside of the United States would be complete without a long look at Robert Whiting's "You Gotta Have Wa." Whiting, an American-born sports writer in Tokyo has published a pair of books about baseball in Japan. His first, "The Chrysanthemum and the Bat" is hard to find but considered to be a classic. You Gotta Have Wa is top notch and should be required reading for any American who wants to explore the realm of baseball in Japan.

This is not a book about Japanese baseball. Instead, it is an account of how Americans have navigated their way through the version of baseball that is played on that island. The book starts with a description of the coming of Bob Horner. Horner is an Atlanta Brave who tests the free agent market in America and finds it wanting. He takes an offer from the Yakult team in Japan and signs a contract. We are treated to a tragic cycle that would seem to have its roots in ancient Greece. Horner starts the season on fire, wowing the baseball public. Then, as prophesied by fellow Americans, he falls into a slump and his non-Japanese methods are questioned by the media and the fans. When he goes on the disabled list, he is roundly criticized for not playing through the pain as would "any decent Japanese." The rabid Japanese media sets upon him and raises him up as an example of everything wrong with American products. Then, with a healthy back and a new batting style designed to counter biased umpiring, Horner returns and destroys opposing pitching. While the Swallows do not win a pennant, they establish new team records for attendance, due in part to their exciting import. But when the time came for Horner and the Swallows to ink a new contract Horner decides that he has seen enough. He flees back to the United States.

The story of Bob Horner serves to whet the appetite for an examination into the mindset that pervades baseball in Japan. It and the two chapters that follow set the table for the rest of the book. First there is a short treatment of the history of baseball in Japan. The pastime started as a competition between prep schools and until the 1930's remained a purely amateur undertaking, although one has the suspicion that it was about as amateur as the old East German woman's swimming program. In 1934 Babe Ruth came to Japan on tour with other American big leaguers and proved to be a star of the first magnitude. Within two years a professional circuit popped into existence. After a brief hiatus during World War II, professional baseball was reborn, and quickly developed into the two league setup that exists to this day.

With the historical context set, Whiting then examines some cases that play up the difference in spirit between Japanese baseball and its American counterpart. His first study is that of Choji Murata, a star pitcher for the Lotte Orions. Like all Japanese pitchers, Murata subjected his arm to stresses and tortures that would be considered anathema in Western thinking. Not surprisingly, after many years he found that his elbow was wracked with pain. He tried for a year to solve his problem by doing what he had always done, ignore the pain and pitch regardless. But he was so ineffective that his team would not allow him to play. Instead he threw hundreds of practice pitches every day. The Lotte Orions had to get an injunction to keep him from doing so. Finally he was down to what he considered to be his last option - a visit to America for a consultation with Dr. Frank Jobe. Strangely, in the country that gave the world arthroscopic knee operations, surgery was considered by all the gray beards to be the end of an athletic career. Still, Murata had tried all the traditional approaches and they had failed. He went under the knife and was able to resurrect his career. Even after all that, he is said to look down upon other pitchers who undergo surgery upon injury. Only as a matter of last resort does Murata see the choice as justified.

The spotlight then turns to iron man Sachio Kinugasa, who held the consecutive games played mark until he was recently surpassed by Cal Ripken Jr. Kinugasa played through all types on injuries, including a 1979 fractured shoulder blade. When asked how he could play with a broken shoulder Kinugasa responded by claiming that it onlyhurt when he swung, whereas if he didn't play he would feel pain for the duration of the game. Japan's iron man represents the concept of doryoku, which has the rough English translation of "effort." The central role played by doryoku in the game is a rough spot between Americans and their hosts. A marathon pre-game practice in the muggy Japanese Summer is simply an expected expression of doryoku to a native player. It is a waste of time and energy to the guest.

Tatsunori Hara is used to show the role of respect for superiors. Hara was raised as Mary Pierce or Todd Marinovich, a child trained to excel in the sporting world. Whiting claims that Hara has always followed the advice of his coaches, and yet hasn't experienced a true breakthrough year that should be expected of a player of his caliber. Whiting then quotes some American players who feel that the monkey on Hara's is the coaching that he receives, that Hara would come into his own (an interesting cultural Freudian slip if I've ever written one) if only allowed to do his own thing rather than be over-trained by his cadre of advisors.

The rest of the chapter is devoted to the concept of "Wa" - in English, unity or group harmony. A rogue's gallery of individualistic behavior is presented, and each time the offender is severely disciplined for upsetting the Wa of the team. On the other hand, sometimes it appears that what the guilty party is truly being punished for is undermining the team's chain of command. To my Western mind it is at times hard to tell if Wa is something real or just a reason given when a bad apple is tossed from the barrel. When a musical group breaks up the phrase "philosophical differences" is often batted about. I doubt that the force behind the dissolution of the group was that the drummer was a Cartesian and the bassist was a follower of Spinoza. I wonder if "Wa" and "philosophical differences" are just nicer ways of saying ugly things.

With the first three chapters Whiting has done a good job of introducing the different psyche of Japanese baseball. His description of the rise, fall, resurrection and departure of Bob Horner is both engaging and eye-opening. It is well written, setting the stage for many of the issues raised later in the book. While I wish that the author had spent more time in his history section, he did tell his story without getting bogged down. It would be a mistake to allow this section to expand and subtract from the main thrust of the book. Finally, Whiting brings abstract concepts of Japanese baseball into play by using figures from the game. This allows a human basis for abstractions like doryoku, while at the same time introduces the reader to some of the stars of the game. Even if the book ended here, it would be worth the price.

With a strong base, Whiting builds higher. Chapter 4 deals with various episodes from the up and down history of foreign players in the Japanese game. These range over troubles with management, violent behavior, long, seemingly pointless practices and unfair umpires. It comes off as more a laundry list than a deep discussion of the roots of these problems.

The next section covers the topic of oendan, the organized groups of fans that fill baseball stadiums. They seem to combine the passion of British football fans with the restraint of nobility. In America if a player wants to slam on the quality of fan, one of his accusations is normally that the "fans don't know anything about baseball, they just cheer when the scoreboard tells them to." In Japan this is the expected role. The fan is devoted to the team and will cheer or sing the entire way through the game.

This is an interesting sidelight to the tour of Japanese baseball culture. I really enjoy the excerpts from the fight songs. It goes a little to far astray into pop psychology, talking about how baseball gives the normally staid Japanese a chance to be wild, and yet even in this action the Japanese do it only as a group. These are simply aspects of the same mob psychology that can be seen at any packed stadium, regardless of location or culture.

The topic of interpreters is covered in the chapter entitled Sandwich Man. One would think a team with a multimillion dollar investment in a player would make sure that it had a translator that could speak English. I know that if I was a player going overseas, this would be written into my contract. Surprisingly, this is not the case. The reader is treated to funny situations like the time the interpreter looked up "hit and run" in the dictionary and read about car accidents. Or the time a player told an interviewer that he was no longer mad about a certain incident and the public was informed that he was no longer insane. The chapter soon turns a bit more serious and explores the more important role that the interpreter plays, that of the buffer between the American player and his surroundings. In one case a player challenged an opposing catcher during warmups about the previous day's beanball incident. Rather than delivering a threat of violence, the translator instead asked the catcher not to throw at the player's head anymore, because it worried the player's wife and children. This drew an apology from the catcher, and the headhunting ceased.

This is a marvelous chapter. It would be a mistake to see it simply as "tales from the front" from the point of view of the translator. Whiting is able to get a lot of mileage out of this section. He makes the point that many owners see the teams as nothing more than advertising vehicles for the parent corporations, and hence get the same translators as would any branch, even if this means that the employee knows nothing about baseball. He also plays up the fact that Japanese education is based upon book learning and as a result churns out interpreters who are very poor at conversational English, and more tragically, exchange students who do not know the meaning of "Freeze." Whiting could have played up the clownish aspects of this chapter, but instead he uses it to explore some important issues.

Covered next is the tenure of Don Blasingame. He is one of a handful of Westerners who have been given the reigns of a Japanese squad. His adventures with the Hanshin Tigers are closely detailed, especially when he has to choose between a struggling American player and an unproved rookie. In America even the most promising rookies are dealt with a good deal of skepticism, and gains respect only through play. With the larger role of amateur ball in Japan, many rookies are stars in their own right before they play an inning of big league baseball. They can play the role of savior like a John Elway or a Shaquille O'Neal. Blasingame had his problems with the media and management and was eventually let go. He also manage with Nankai, with undistinguished results.

This chapter seems a bit dated when read today. If this chapter were revised I'm sure that the reader would be treated to the travails of Bobby Valentine. The issues dealing with playing time for rookies are probably better treated in another chapter. This section suffers in comparison with the previous one in that I feel that it deals more with the specifics of Blasingame's career as opposed to more general issues withthe intercultural relationship.

Chapter eight sees a return to the topic of American players in the Japanese game. In this case the history of Americans and the Tokyo Giants is covered. After a long period where the Giants played with no Americans, they went after Davey Johnson. Johnson was a star, a power-hitting middle infielder in America. He was hampered by injuries his first year, and vowed to make amends the following season. He became one of a handful of Americans to take part in "voluntary training" in the middle of Winter and started the season well, but injured his hand sliding into second. His play declined and his manager would often bench him. Finally he decided to go to America for medical help over the All-Star break. This caused an uproar, he was seen as abandoning his team and insulting Japanese doctors. The word from his physician was that he was to avoid batting practice. Johnson struck a deal with his manager. So long as he produced he could stay in the lineup and not practice. Amazingly, this deal was struck, and Johnson caught fire. Sadly, he got sick at the end of the season and feels that he was scapegoated for the Giants post-season loss. Whiting then moves on to Johnson's teammate, Whiting spends the rest of the chapter detailing the life and times of "Crazy" Wright, Reggie Smith, and Warren Cromartie. While each tale is interesting in its own right, there does seem to be repetition in the cycle of big hopes, misunderstandings, comebacks and eventual departures.

This chapter was about how the Tokyo Giants handled their foreigner problem. While it added a lot of insight, I felt that we could also learn from what a lesser franchise did with its outsiders. Perhaps a side-by-side treatment, tracing the Giants and some other team. The problem is that the Giants are such an entity all to their own, it is hard to extrapolate from them.

After many pages detailing the behavioral difficulties of Americans in Japan, Whiting spends a chapter on the Shinjin-rui, or "new breed." These are native players who reject the traditional ways of the game. The first on the hit list is Hiromitsu Ochiai. He would predict triple crowns for coming seasons, an act that would be seen as braggadocio in the United States, but absolutely shocking in Japan. He could get away with it because he delivered what he promised. He would skip "voluntary" Winter workouts and would not practice hard. He also demanded big Yen, and even smeared Nagashima and Oh for not working harder to get the salaries that they deserved. Whiting pairs Ochiai with Suguru Egawa, a renegade pitcher. Egawa was a college star who decided that he would only play for the Giants. After being drafted by another team he simply sat out for a year. Claiming that after 365 days he was free, he signed with the Giants before he was slected by the Hanshin Tigers in the following year's draft. There was a great furor and the Giants even threatened to withdraw and form a new league. In the end Tokyo sent a top pitcher to the Tigers for the rights to Egawa. His splash into baseball was a harbinger of future actions. He never stayed in shape and didn't throw the hundreds of practice pitches between starts. Even worse, if he didn't feel like pitching he would simply skip his slot in the rotation. When Egawa retired early many felt that he owed the Giants more loyalty. After Ochiai and Egawa, Whiting discusses other Japanese badboys.

I have to wonder if the focus of this chapter is set correctly. In both America and Japan athletes are spoiled. treated as if they were gods among mortals. Some handle it with grace and dignity, and others let it go to their heads. "Out of control" players should be expected from this environment. But this has always been true. The difference today is that instead of being willing to protect the players elements of the press circle like sharks. Any dirty laundry in the modern game is quickly exposed. Players like Mantle and Ruth would be flayed alive by today's sports writers for their off field actions. I have to ask if the rise in poor behavior in Japan is a real phenomenon or if it had always been there and is now being revealed by a more predatory press. If Whiting had taken this into account I think it would have been more interesting from a sociological point of view. Still, a strong background in the Egawa affair would have helped everyone involved in last Summer's Irabu situation.

Yoshiaki Tsutsumi is reported to be the richest man in the world. He also owns the Seibu Lions. Whiting takes time to look at this man and his team. Tsutsumi runs his organization "like an army," and unlike most Japanese owners, expects to see a profit from his franchise. The chapter reads like a mini-seminar on business in Japan. Interesting, but nothing that hasn't been said before.

While I can understand that Whiting wanted to cover the big wheels in Japanese baseball, and Tsutsumi is definitely one of them, he managed to pick out a team run in a somewhat American fashion. Time would have been better spent examining the inner workings of one of the other franchises. Whiting touches upon other teams, stating that they are in effect advertising wings for their parent companies (he points out that Yakult sales go down in cities where the Swallows have beaten the locals). I think that a closer look at the concept of ownership and team mission would have been a better aim of this section. In Japan, the team is identified with the company. While Americans have put corporate logos on almost all of their stadiums, we will probably never see the advent of the Tribune Cubs.

After spending a chapter on Japan's ultimate professional, the focus turns to the amateur game. Specifically Koshien, the 49 team single elimination tournament held every Summer. Perhaps the closest picture that could be painted is two weeks worth of college bowl games all held in the Rose Bowl. Attendance for 1988 was placed at 820,000. And despite the size and tradition of bowl games, they come up short in comparison with Koshien. Score 4 touchdowns and in 20 years even the most ardent alumni will have problems remembering your name. Hit a clutch homer at Koshien and you will be immortalized. This can drive things to the extreme. Whiting chooses to look at PL Gakuen, a Koshien powerhouse. Their players are scouted and selected carefully before admission. They practice for hours a day on top of their 200 games a year. Their baseball budget runs ten times that of a typical school. Each upperclassman on the team is assigned a lowerclassman as a servant. Some students sleep through class, saving their energy for the field. While Whiting does strive for balance, he paints an ugly picture of the highschool game, with comparisons to Nazis and stories of children dying in practice. While there is some good, there is a lot of bad.

Sadly, I think that in this area Japan and America have a lot in common. Just look at football in Texas or basketball in Chicago if you want to see corruption. How many coaches use puberty as an excuse when it is pointed out that their players gained 40 pounds in the off season? How many wrestlers die trying to make weight? A quick viewing of Hoop Dreams will cure anybody who thinks that high school sports is anything close to pure. One source in the chapter talked about condoms in hotel rooms as if it were some source of scandal. Heck, in America that's one of the main reasons to try out for the team. Yes, Whiting paints an ugly picture, but it is a familiar one.

The last chapter in the book once again details the troubles of Americans in Japanese baseball. In a way, it is also a final exam for both the author and the reader. While the stories match up pretty well with what has gone before, this time the reader should have a better understanding of why friction exists between the Americans and their hosts. Whiting has done his job well if this chapter comes across as predictable. At the same time, he also teaches about the more recent history of the game.

This book is a gem. It should be on everybody's shelf. With the opening of the floodgates started by Nomo, we will see many more players from Japan entering the National and American Leagues. Will the same mistakes and misunderstandings that hindered Americans in Japan rise again in the United States? I have to wonder. While most teams have several coaches who are at least semi-fluent in Spanish, what is the quality of translators for the Japanese? The entire Irabu situation had played itself out years before with Egawa, are there other cases like that we should know about? When I went to Japan many years ago I saw McDonalds franchises, and here in America I can't go five minutes without seeing a Japanese product. The two countries share so much more than baseball. Yet at the same time there are elements of each culture that are completely alien to the other. Baseball is a good place to see what we have in common, and where we rub like sandpaper. Whiting's book serves as a great map to the terrain.