Japanese Rookie Strikes It Big In La
Sydney Morning Herald
Friday August 11, 1995
THE crowds begin gathering in their thousands beneath the giant video screens outside Tokyo's busiest subway stations before the first ball is pitched.
By the time the familiar figure strides to the muddy mound, stretches his arms over his head, performs an extraordinary corkscrew pirouette and lets fly, the normally undemonstrative Tokyoites are hopping up and down with excitement.
"Nomo," they call out, "Torunedo" (Tornado). The ball streaks across the screen at 150 km/h, the umpire raises his arm, and another of the major leagues' crack batters strikes out.
Just another afternoon in baseball-mad Japan? Don't you believe it. The game is happening in Los Angeles, and the pitcher is Hideo Nomo, Japan's most successful export since sushi.
For 50 years, since American soldiers popularised the game during the occupation, baseball has been Japan's national sport.
Hundreds of thousands attend matches of the two major leagues every night and millions more watch on TV.
But until now the trade in players has been a one-way trip across the Pacific. Even though they are limited to three gaijin (foreigners) per team, 30 or 40 Americans usually play in Japan every season, and the MVP (Most Valued Player) lists are dominated by names such as O'Malley, Howell, and Rose.
Until the 26-year-old Nomo chucked in his career after six years in the Japanese majors and went to seek fame and fortune in Los Angeles, only one Japanese baseball player had ever made it in the US. Now he's a hero on both sides of the ocean and a multi-million-dollar industry.
Whenever he takes the mound for the Los Angeles Dodgers, Japanese fans pack the stands waving the rising sun flag and holding up cards with "K", shorthand for a strikeout. They pay as much as $4,000 for a three-night special "Nomo package".
In Tokyo and Los Angeles, the character goods are selling like hot cakes - everything from autographed baseballs, caps and pennants to a replica of his No 16 uniform, which goes for $500.
Japanese newspapers and magazines have gone mad with special editions. The otherwise staid and conservative Yomiuri Shimbun - the world's biggest-selling newspaper - had a two-page supplement the other day, and the Nikkan Sports paper has opened a special bureau in Los Angeles to cover his exploits.
Japan's NHK hopes Nomomania will save its struggling satellite TV network. It covered live all the Dodgers' pre-season games and has launched a massive promotion to persuade householders in Nomo's home town of Osaka to sign up for his games.
You want interactive? Just dial up http.www.st.rim.or.jp/ 7/8k-ono/tornado/ on the Internet for Tornado Boy, an e-mail homage with everything you could possibly want to know about the man and his game.
In the US, after he was selected to open the pitching in the All Star series last month, he made the cover of Sports Illustrated with the headline "What's Right With Baseball" and an article praising him for bringing back excitement after last year's strike. Even at practice, 100 reporters, photographers and camera crews jostle to cover him.
The Dodgers' manager, Tom Lasorda, is running out of superlatives. "The guy's amazing. He's unbelievable. He's awesome," Lasorda said after Nomo threw himself to the lead in the pitching averages.
Thanks to Nomo, the poorly rated Dodgers are now second in the National League West, with a good chance of making the national championships - well worth the $2.7 million signing fee they paid him.
The son of a postal worker, Nomo was virtually unknown outside Osaka until he went to the US. Although he was the top pitcher for the Kintetsu Buffaloes, the team was in Japan's second-string Pacific League and rarely received national coverage.
He is now pitching better than he did in Japan. Nomo injured his throwing shoulder last year and pleaded with the Buffaloes' coach, Keishu "Throw till you die" Suzuki, for lighter training and less pitching.
Both The New York Times and Akahata, newspaper of the Japan Communist Party, have editorialised that it is no coincidence Nomo is playing better now he is under a kinder regime. Japanese coaches have the motto "bloody urine" to indicate how much they expect from their players.
When he first left for the US - hired on the strength of a two-minute videotape by a team which had never seen him play - the Japanese media and his family treated him as a traitor and predicted his downfall. Now he is one of the most successful rookies in baseball history.
Nomo himself looks great, up there on the screens of Shinjuku and Shibuya. He occasionally even has a smile, rather than the expressionless poker face for which he was known when he played for the Buffaloes.
"Pitching was a job for me in Japan," he said recently. "The best part of going to the US is that I can now enjoy playing baseball."
Even the fact that he doesn't speak English hasn't spoilt the fun. Nomo's pitching coach has picked up words such as hikumeni (throw a low-ball) and shuchushite (concentrate), which he pronounces with Nomo's broad Osaka accent.
American talent scouts are starting to take Japanese baseball players seriously. They had scorned the Japanese game for years because of its slightly different rules and smaller playing field. Now they are hunting for the next Nomo, and are said to be interested in up to 20 local stars.
However, the Japanese leagues have warned they will try to block any more overseas transfers. In Japan, a player is tied to his club for 10 years before he can become a free agent - Nomo got around this by retiring. The result of the international phenomenon of Nomomania may result in Japan, for the first time in its history, trying to ban exports.
© 1995 Sydney Morning Herald
