Home-u run-u Ma-e-da! - Japan series #9

On August 3rd, we went to the Hiroshima Park to watch a baseball game: the Hiroshima Toyo Carp versus the Yakult Swallows. Even though H arranged the outing pretty last minute, we had a decent turnout out fellow workers, who were will to cut out a little early that night.

The sun was still out when we left the university. The whole day had was hazy as the high humidity and heat made for a potent weather combination. Waiting for H to pull the car around outside, I felt the beads of sweat forming and fallling off my brow, nose, and along my breastbone. The park itself is in the heart of the city. Although the Carp are a popular team, they lack a huge corporate sponsor like all most of the other teams in the league. So the city itself pays for the players salaries and the maintenance of the stadium.

This outdoor stadium seats about 30,000 people although it felt a lot smaller and more like a minor league baseball park. As we walked towards our seats, the smell of curry, hot dogs, and popcorn lingered in the heavy air.

On a slight tangent, I should explain a little bit about Japanese baseball. Baseball has vacilated in popularity in Japan since the 30's. Even with Japan winning the World Baseball Classic this year, soccer has been the more popular Western sport. Yet baseball is so intertwined in Japanese culture now, that it is unlikely it will ever go away. Part of Japanese baseball culture how to conduct oneself at a game. The stadium is divided into home team sections and visiting teams. And the price to pay to sit in the bleachers is you must be prepared to cheer along with everyone else.

Since the seats are open seats, our friend chose a section that was in the visiting team section so that there would be enough seats for all of us even those trickling in a little later. As we sat down, the plastic bags everyone was carrying busted open and fried chicken, edamame, french fries and beer magically appeared.

Because I could not stop sweating, I chose an tea drink and tried to sit really still to watch the game. As the sun went further and further down, the air got warmer. A layer of sticky water lay on my skin. When I scratched a mixture of dirt, humidity and skin made a grey clump under my nails.

On the other side of the bleachers, we could see the Hiroshima Cheer Conductor leading crowds. Cheering is organized in Japan. There are certain songs to be sung, you must enthusiatically either clap or beat together cheering sticks when you team is up to bat. Brass horns lead the songs that say something like "Home-u run-u [insert player name here]." It is so incredibly loud, you feel like you are at a rock concert. Our side of the bleachers had the Carp Ladies, devoted fans armed with pompoms rally our side of the bleachers.

We cheered as best we could, but V and I could not understand what the fans were yelling. It was not until 5th inning did our friends inform us that all the cheers were in English. It was an exciting game, and the two teams were tied at 3 - 3. During the 7th inning stretch, instead of singing take me out to the ballgame you are to release a balloon. So at the top of the 7th, we all started blowing up these large, slightly falic looking baloons. Unfortunately, we never got to release them as we heard a thunder clap. The stadium lights dimmed, and every player except the left fielder, Maeda, left the field. The mascot started to dance for everyone. And then it happened....RAIN.

Summer showers are always violent. This was a downpour. We hid under the some signs hoping it would be brief and the game would resume. That never happened. Our shelter was poor at best and we were now told to leave the stadium. As we tried to make a mad dash down toward the exit, we realized it was futile. There comes a point in which you cannot get wetter, and we were already there. Below is the progression of relatively dry, to slightly wet, to soaked:

Since the game was officially cancelled, no one won the game, although I am sure it was Mother Nature 1 Baseball fans 0.