The static of excitement bled onto the pavement of the sidewalks that lined the park.l. 

Every night since I had arrived back in Tokyo, there were, what seemed to be, local high schoolers playing baseball in the field by my hotel. My heart quickened a little bit from shared joy. I could almost feel the grit of the dirt under cleats remembering stepping up to the plate to play tee ball & softball as a child and young teen. 

Baseball has been a big part of American, Japanese-American, and Japanese life for over a century. Both cultures have turned to it for a sense of community even in the worst times of our history, to have something to cheer for and believe in even when everything else seemed bleak and full of chaos. 

With the rhythmic songs of the dedicated cheer squads for either teams’ ringing in my ears as I made my way to grab lunch, my friend Shun asked where I’d like to hang out later that night and I begged to go to the batting cages. 

The neon of Shinjuku Batting Center’s red lights covered my excited cheeks in a blushed light. My excitement was palpable. I was finally going to get to play in the historic batting center, which I had already spent many hours practicing in the videogame Persona5. Shinjuku Batting center was built in 1978 and stepping through its doorways brings you through a time portal to the beginning of the baseball boom in Japan. Coin operated pitching machines wait for you, with all different speeds, rows of retro videogame cabinets cram the lobby space that isn’t taken up by change & vending machines are left for patient batters to line up outside of the pitching speed of their choice.

Noisy and steamy, it was the perfect stop for a little evening fun. After being up all day running around Tokyo and with it being such a hot night, I didn’t hit much, but I giggled my way through many attempts with my friends Senri and Shun before we left to scour the streets of Kabuchiko for some well earned udon. 

When I arrived in Akita later in the week, the ever present gaze of the great Otani fell on me in the glow of a 7/11’s window light ad for a sports drink and I felt the itch again. The next morning I bought myself a 3 hour pass to the local Round1 and took myself to the cages there. There was a softball option which I found much easier to hit and though I loved the retro charm of Shinjuku, there was something satisfying about needing to put on a batting helmet and send something quite solid soaring towards the net, the balls in the Shinjuku batting center were softer than a regular baseball even though they were the same size and batting helmets were not required.  

Despite an American pastime, I will never be able to think of baseball without thinking of Japan as well. Whenever I find myself unsure what to talk about in a group of Japanese men I can count on bringing up my favorite team – the Red Sox, along with Yoshida, and Matsuzaka and instantly find myself with at least one new friend. If that doesn’t quite hit, everyone in Japan and baseball will agree with a statement of saying Shohei Ohtani, who looks at you silently from almost every advertisement in Japan, and Yoshinobu Yamamoto are some of the best players in the game right now. 

The love for a game can transcend language barriers of all kinds, bring all sorts of types of people together, and leave you breathless for more. So, if at a loss for words the next time you’re in Japan and want to try to make some new friends, maybe try, “How about them Red Sox?” or “レッドソックスを知っていますか？”