Yomiuri Giants vs Nippon-Ham Fighters

Welcome to my random musings about the world, on a weekly-to-occasional basis.

Where we are: We’re hanging out in Tokyo. Thus far we’ve had one typhoon (named Mawar), one tiny earthquake, and many, many delicious snacks. Also, I’m never leaving.

Yomiuri Giants vs Nippon-Ham Fighters

We went to a baseball game last weekend. We’ve been to a lot of cultural events in different countries—some quite by accident—but this was the first time we’ve ever deliberately attended a sportsball event.

It was a blast, even though ‘we’ lost by a wide margin.

Here are some things you should know about going to a professional baseball game in Japan, which you absolutely should do:

First off, baseball is wildly popular here. By our rough estimate, based on the capacity of the venue (the Tokyo Dome) and the percentage of empty seats, there were probably about 40 thousand people in the audience. Based on my observation of the people seated around us, they were really there for the game. I, of course, was there for the snacks. [For many years, we had season tickets for the Durham Bulls, the minor league team in Durham, NC, made famous by the movie Bull Durham, which I loved far more than I have ever cared about baseball. In case you’re unaware, professional baseball in the US has a LOT of games. I was purely in it for the snacks.]

Snacks at a Japanese baseball games include: sushi, hot dogs, edamame, French fries, fried pork cutlets, pizza with seafood on top, and matcha ice cream, among other interesting things. I bought some edamame at an Okonomiyaki stand, and they had been nicely charred on the griddle. I loved them way more than peanuts. Heresy, I know.

My edamame came with an extra cup for putting the pods in, because no one drops any rubbish on the ground. The stadium is pristine. In the last month, I’ve begun to take for granted that I’m in the world’s cleanest country, but watching people at a baseball game bagging up their detritus, being careful not to spill drinks, and carefully sorting rubbish into the correct bins was fascinating. I remember what it was like to exit a Bulls game, picking my way through the litter of peanut shells and used paper plates, my feet sticking to the floor.

You know how, at an American baseball game, people walk through the stands selling sodas and snacks, yelling things like ‘Get yer peanuts, Pepsi’? At the Tokyo Dome, those mobile vendors were all a) women, and b) young. They wore basically cheerleading outfits, moved around at a run, communicated through hand gestures, carried kegs on their backs through the entire game, knelt on the ground to pour the drinks (so as not to block anyone’s view), and never spilled a drop.

Related: the drink of choice seemed to be whisky and soda. From a keg. At a baseball game.

Cheering/chanting is done in unison. There were hand gestures that were used for different plays—a sort of finger-wiggling thing, a hand raised straight in the air, both hands in a sort of chopping motion—also all done in unison. At other moments, everyone (and I do mean everyone, except us) twirled their team towel in the air. There were several songs, and again, everyone sang along in a very tidy unison.

But when we weren’t cheering—for instance, when our team was pitching—the fans on our side were quiet. I think this was because they were actually paying attention to the game. I, of course, was eating edamame and waiting for the inning to end so I could duck out of our row to visit the bathroom, without bothering the people seated near us.

And of course, there are washlets in the bathroom.

Because Japan.

Take care,

Lisa

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