Tag Archives: Sadaharu Oh

On being disciplined and flexible in Japan and in life

Mr. Brown comes to town

Outfielder Roosevelt Brown only played in Japan for two seasons, and it didn’t provide a spring board to a longer career in the States, but the experience, he said recently, wasn’t wasted on him.

Brown joined the Orix Blue Wave in 2003, roughly three years before he went 0-for-1 as a pinch hitter at Tokyo Dome for the Chicago Cubs against the New York Mets. In Las Vegas last December at the baseball winter meetings, Brown spoke about his experiences and impressions of Japan’s game.

“Guys here now really want to go over there. They’re starting to hear how good the baseball is over there,” said Brown, who upon his retirement built homes and still owns that construction company, while working as an advisor with sports training business, Vizual Edge.

The stories and the reality

“All the nightmares that I heard about, I did not seen none of those. The Japanese people took care of me and I really appreciate the hospitality of the people of Japan.”

After an excellent debut season at the age of 27, Brown could see himself finishing his career in Nippon Professional Baseball, but it didn’t happen.

Players are now turning to Japan not for their final playing paychecks from an inferior league, but as an opportunity to realize more of their potential than they had shown in the States. Often, the time spent in Japan makes them better players.

“And better people, too. You learn a lot and you improve your game,” Brown said.

“The difference with Japanese baseball is the strength. You have more stronger guys at the big league level than you do in Japan. That’s the only difference. The command of the fastball, offspeed stuff, they can command all three pitches. The players here are a lot bigger, but they just don’t have the body control that most Japanese have.”

“They (Japanese) do a lot of body weight stuff. When they take their shirts off, they look like they’ve been lifting weights. The body tissue, because of the diet with a lot of seafood, their tendons are softer so their muscles expand more than an American player who eats a lot of beef. They eat a lot of protein but with lots of seafood, so the flexibility of Japanese players is ahead of a lot of American players.”

A new approach

A frequent passenger on the Triple-A, major league shuttle, Brown began studying martial arts, to increase his flexibility and fitness. The process opened his eyes to some of the things about Japan’s game that are not readily apparent in the numbers.

“It started in 1999,” Brown said. “I wanted to increase my flexibility, because I found out that flexibility creates strength. The longer the muscles are, the more agile you can be. When I got into martial arts, I just started liking it. I put my kids in it. I took private lessons. Before I worked out I would go in about 5 am and train with my master, and after that I would go to the gym and work out with my trainer.”

“It helped me tie in the biomechanics of the swing and how to tie in my energy and put the most energy into one area. I noticed a lot of the Japanese guys at the plate had the same ability. They got the most out of their bodies.”

An audience with the king

And in Japan he had the chance to meet with a man whose practice of aikido and other martial arts had helped turn him into one of the greatest power hitters the world has ever seen.

“I had a conversation with Sadaharu Oh,” Brown said. “I was trying to figure out what was his secret to hit so many home runs because he’s so small.”

“He used his body probably better than anybody in the history of the game. He was small. The only other hitter who had that power and that size when I played was Michihiro Ogasawara. Those guys’ weight transformation through the baseball was probably better than some guys in the States. I learned a lot. It was an awesome experience.”

Two years provides just an introduction to Japan’s whys and wherefores. Although Brown gained insight into swings, training and diet, some mysteries remained unsolved. Keen to earn the respect of his teammates, he tried to be the best at whatever the BlueWave players were doing, but when it came to Japan’s training grist mill, he had to raise his hand and take a time out.

“They were overworking and I had to talk to the team and say, ‘Look, if you want me to be 100 percent in August, we need to find a better way to buffer the work,’” he said. “Because I was accustomed to training hard in the offseason and maintaining during the regular season, but those guys train in season and offseason.”

“That amazed me how well those guys stayed in shape, because they were heavy smokers. Those guys would run forever despite the fact that they smoked. I saw myself as not being able to do something like that.”

A way of life

What he could relate to were elements of the culture that meshed with his own values, the importance of craftsmanship in Japanese society that is manifested in the discipline and respect the players are nurtured in. To some Latin players, Japanese baseball can at times seem joyless, but Brown discovered learning points on and off the field.

“I learned a lot about discipline,” he said. “The culture of Japan is built on discipline and respect. I knew about respect. I was raised that way, but Japan made me take it to the next level.”

“You’ve got to embrace change when you go there. It’s their way of living and you’re going over there, and you’ve got to make those adjustments to succeed. If I hadn’t got injured, I probably would have played the rest of my career over there.”

After he got hurt in 2004, his career ended all too quickly following a good 2005 season in Triple A with the White Sox.

Endings and beginnings

“It was tough because I had to leave the game earlier than I anticipated because of injury,” he said. “It was tough, but I dealt with it. It’s part of life, and I live not through my kids, but my kids all play baseball, my family members all play baseball. It’s something I won’t ever be able to get away from. I understand that. I thought about if I would be a bitter guy, but I look back on my career and I hit .300 nine years straight. Most people don’t do that. Instead of being bitter about it, I decided I was going to take the time God gave me to better my knowledge for my kids. So I know that’s starting to translate with my kids and the people I train. I talked to a couple of people here at the winter meetings about jobs. I didn’t realize how much respect I had earned as a player.”

“Hitting a baseball is something I had a gift at. I broke my wrist in 1997 and that was the most miserable season that I had. I had a bad season. That was the first bad season I had, and I didn’t understand how to deal with failure at the plate. It helped me grow into a better hitter. Never experiencing a failure like that was difficult.”

“I had a gift and I couldn’t use it. Now I want to pass it on. What’s a gift if you can’t pass it on? That’s why I understand gifts. That’s where my heart and conviction are now.”

Tuffy Rhodes in Japan

A couple of people have responded to Tuffy Rhodes not doing better in the vote for this year’s Hall of Fame vote with thoughts on the things that might be hurting his chances for selection. One person said his criticism of Sadaharu Oh in 2001, and of the Giants are affecting his candidacy.

I’d be amiss if I didn’t report that a few people indicated the reason had to be racism. I’d be surprised if none of the voters are racists because people have unreasonable biases and believe silly things. But having said that, Alex Ramirez did remarkably well in his first year on the Hall of Fame ballot, and for a couple of years Rhodes was on a trajectory that earn him selection.

The Oh home run controversy

That 2001 season was something, and the source of two anecdotes, but lets deal with the aftermath of Rhodes’ failed chase to surpass Sadaharu Oh’s single-season home run record.

Rhodes was the second player to get within spitting distance of Oh’s magic 55. The first to do it, had been Randy Bass of the Hanshin Tigers, who was pitched around when he had a chance to tie it against the Yomiuri Giants in 1985. Oh was the Giants manager, and reportedly had ordered his pitchers not to do that, but it did happen, and Bass ended the season with 54.

Rhodes was the next contender, and tied Oh’s record when he homered off Daisuke Matsuzaka on Sept. 24 at Osaka Dome. He had five games after that to homer, but went 3-for-16 during that stretch. After the Buffaloes clinched the pennant in their next game, all attention turned to Rhodes’ pursuit.

On Sept. 30, the Buffaloes were in Fukuoka to play the Daiei Hawks, managed by Oh, who reportedly told his players to pitch to Rhodes, and then they didn’t. He was walked twice and went 0-for-2. At the battery meeting prior to the game, Hawks battery coach Yoshiharu Wakana told his players he didn’t want to see Rhodes surpass Oh’s record.

“Kintetsu’s won the pennant,” Wakana said. “So there’s no excuse for allowing the manager’s record to be surpassed. The idea of a foreigner surpassing him is distasteful. Mr. Oh must remain the record holder. Don’t work aggressively to Rhodes.”

Wakana explained afterward that he had never instructed his pitchers and catchers to walk Rhodes.

Afterward, both Tuffy and I ripped into Oh for not criticizing Wakana in public, but although I had talked with Oh on numerous occasions, I still didn’t understand him very well.

Oh, however, does things his way. Without any fanfare, he fired Wakana at the end of the season.

I learned something of Mr. Oh’s ways a year later, when the same scenario was being replayed with the Seibu Lions’ Alex Cabrera facing the Hawks after tying Oh’s record. Ahead of their game at Seibu Dome, I asked Oh if Japanese fans were not getting annoyed at seeing Japanese pitchers work around foreign hitters chasing his record every year.

I’ve never seen Oh angrier — but I wasn’t there 20 years earlier when he said he punched out Yomiuri Giants teammate Tsuneo Horiuchi for making a nuisance of himself.

If steam could have come out of Oh’s ears, it would have. I imagined it did.

“That’s a disrespectful thing to say about Japanese pitchers. “Nobody wants to be known in history as the pitcher who gave up the record home run!” he said, raising his voice to the amusement of the Hawks beat writers standing nearby and storming off the field.

A month later I saw Oh prior to the start of a Japan MLB All-Star game. That’s when I began to understand Oh. He came up to me, asked how I was doing and patted me on the back. He is very careful about giving his opinions on sensitive issues if that might embarrass other people.

He wouldn’t criticize his players or staff in public for disobeying his orders.

For year afterward, Tuffy still sounded bitter. I was talking about writing a book about Japanese managers and he said something to the effect that he hoped Oh wasn’t on the top of any rankings I did.

Giant headaches

Rhodes moved to the Giants in 2004, when Yomiuri was collecting big-hitting veterans, but failed to gel. Early in 2005 at a game in Fukuoka, Rhodes failed to chase a ball in the gap and got an earful from coach Sumio Hirota afterward. The normally gentle Hirota blew up, blamed Rhodes for losing the game and disrespecting Japan’s game.

Rhodes, who loved Japan and Japanese baseball, pinned the diminutive coach against the wall and launched into a tirade against his treatment. This might be the biggest strike against him with some voters, who are eligible after covering baseball with a press club credential for 15 years. Since more reporters cover the Giants than any other team with the possible exception of the Hanshin Tigers, if there is any animus there, it could prevent Rhodes from getting the final votes he needs to push him over 75 percent.

Tuffy, who had some issues with Japan’s scandal media since his time with the Buffaloes, joined the Giants in 2004, and one day I saw an advert on the train for a weekly magazine that said, “Foreign star reveals the Giants’ 20 stupid rules.” I asked him about that, but he wouldn’t talk. He just smiled and said he’d tell me after he retired.

First impressions

Some baseball friends decided to get together for a ballgame at Yokohama Stadium in 1996 on Japan’s spring equinox national holiday — which has to be, along with the vernal equinox, two of the coolest national holidays in the world. So there were six or so of us at the frigid ballpark, and we took pity on the young woman whose job was to sell ice cream and bought some from her.

The other memory from that game was the Kintetsu Buffaloes’ new right fielder, Tuffy Rhodes, because he dropped two balls in right field that were hit against the wall.

“He won’t be here long,” said Mr. Knowitall, who had just competed his third English-language Sabermetric guide to Japanese baseball.

Not one of my best predictions, since Tuffy went on to play 1,674 games in Japan.

The jinx

This is also not related to the Hall of Fame, but is just another Tuffy story.

During the summer of 2001, the Buffaloes were soaring en route to the team’s first Pacific League pennant in 12 years. They were coming off a last-place finish in 2000, while the Nippon Ham Fighters were plummeting toward last place after a solid 2000. Prior to a game at Tokyo Dome, with a deadline approaching I talked to Buffaloes and Fighters players about what it felt like to be soaring or plummeting.

From that game, the Buffaloes went on a losing streak and Tuffy believed for some reason, that not only had I jinxed them but that I meant to do so.

So when they clinched the pennant at Osaka Dome, Hirotoshi Kitagawa’s sayonara grand slam lifting Kintetsu to a 6-5 win, I rushed to congratulate Tuffy and Jeremy Powell and some of the other guys on the team.

Tuffy said, “We beat you. You came here to jinx us and we beat you.”

I thought he was joking but he kept that up during the Japan Series, where I covered the final three games at Tokyo’s Jingu Stadium. He wouldn’t talk to other reporters until I moved away.

I’m happy to report he got over it.