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The New Stats Explained
by Ryan T. Campbell
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Johanna quoted in the Chicago Tribune about Fan Safety.
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This Month
Michael Street reviews
Wally Yonamine: The Man Who Changed Japanese Baseball
Sunday, December 27, 2009 8:00pm
Despite what I thought was an extensive knowledge of Japanese baseball, I'd never heard of Wally Yonamine before I saw this book. Initially, I felt relief, since I'm more familiar with Japanese ballplayers coming to America, not the other way around. And Wally Yonamine has the distinction of being the first American-born baseball player to take the field in Japan.
Now that I've read it, however, my embarrassment has only deepened- Yonamine was also the first Asian football player in America, and he singlehandedly changed the way baseball was played in Japan, paving the way for contemporary players like Ichiro Suzuki to dominate MLB the way they had in Japan.
For a Japanese baseball fan not to know Yonamine's influence, or even his name, is like an American fan not knowing baseball revolutionaries like Ty Cobb or Jackie Robinson. Yonamine actually resembles both: Cobb for his hard-nosed style (though Wally was neither as feared nor hated as Cobb) and Robinson, for shattering racial barriers.
But Yonamine defies such easy comparisons, and rightfully deserves a role- and a story-all his own. Award-winning SABR writer and Japanese baseball historian Robert Fitts ably tells that story in a book that ought to be required reading for anyone interested in the roots of modern Japanese baseball.
Yonamine grew up in Hawaii in the 1940's, gaining recognition as a standout running back, first in high school, then as a semipro. He soon attracted the notice of the San Francisco 49ers, who signed him to a two-year deal, making him the first player of Asian descent to play pro football. After a rookie season where he played intermittently, he broke his hand in the offseason, and the 49ers released him.
Yonamine went back to Hawaii and played semipro football as well as baseball, a sport he'd never been all that serious about, but at which he nonetheless excelled. After a second tryout for the 49ers didn't earn him a contract, Yonamine again returned to play semipro sports in Hawaii. This time, he dislocated his shoulder and ended his football career for good, sapping the arm strength that enabled him to throw long passes.
The injury also stopped him from rising in the minor-league baseball ranks. Playing with the Salt Lake City Bees, Yonamine impressed scouts with his aggressiveness, speed, hitting and bunting, but he lacked the power that might make up for his weakened arm.
As it turned out, America's loss was Japan's gain.
The Yomiuri Giants had won eight of the first fourteen titles before the war, but played poorly in the first postwar Japan Series, so they wanted to import an American baseball player to help the team return to its winning ways. Cappy Harada, a former minor leaguer, suggested Yonamine-and history was made.
Though bringing a player of Japanese descent to the Giants might seem like an easy transition, Yonamine faced plenty of obstacles. Yonamine was still an American, and Japanese fans, recovering from World War II, often jeered him, in some cases leading to hostility and riots.
His fellow players also resented him. Yonamine didn't conform to the senpai-kohai system that ensured older players received privileges before younger ones, and his mere presence threatened the veterans whose job-or limelight- he might take. It would take years of success before he managed to transcend this prejudice.
And Yonamine did find success almost immediately with his un-Japanese style of play. At the time, Japanese players telegraphed sacrifice bunts by squaring up immediately, then never ran to first, believing they had no chance of reaching safely. On potential double plays, the runner from first typically jogged towards second, peeling off towards the outfield rather than sliding hard. Between innings, they conserved their energy by walking to and from their positions.
Yonamine did none of these things. He surprised the opposition in his first at-bat by squaring around late to lay down a sac bunt, then beating out the throw by running to first. Breaking up his first double play excited the fans, but enraged the opposition, who saw him as rough and disrespectful. Similarly, running to and from his position in left field made his teammates think he was showing them up.
But the results he brought on the field were undeniable. Yonamine hit .354/.441/.519 in his rookie season, scoring 47 runs and stealing 26 bases in just 54 games. Even better, the Giants took the Central League pennant and, later, the Japan Series. Bringing in Yonamine had paid off handsomely.
Soon, Yonamine's style changed minds and attitudes both on and off the field. Players everywhere quickly adopted his hard-nosed, hustling style, and his refusal to conform to the sempai- kohai system led to a more egalitarian spirit on the Giants. Eventually, his teammates grew to like him- all except for the team captain, perennial batting champ Tetsuharu Kawakami, "The God of Batting," who resented the threat Yonamine represented to Kawakami's dominance.
He was right about the dominance, though it would take Yonamine three more seasons to unseat Kawakami in the batting race, after hitting .361/.441/.532 in 1954, with a whopping 40 doubles, 10 HR and 6 triples. But it was also the first year that the Giants didn't win either the Series or their league pennant. Though they righted the ship the following season, winning both the Central League and the Japan Series, that would be the last time they would win it all with Yonamine.
The Giants took the pennant in each of the years 1956-59 but didn't win the Series. Yonamine (along with many other Giants) had slumped badly in 1960, but he took the blame, and they cut him loose after the season. He played two more seasons with the Chunichi Dragons, but didn't hit well there, either, and retired after the 1962 season.
Like many former players, Yonamine shifted to coaching, first for the Dragons, becoming their manager in 1972 (many ascribe the delay in his promotion to continuing anti-American prejudice). His Dragons won the Central League pennant in 1974, twenty years after their last first-place finish. They didn't win the Series, but Yonamine stayed on as Dragons manager for three more seasons before becoming a coach once again and, eventually, a scout.
When he retired from Nippon Professional Baseball after thirty-eight years, his impact was immense. Yonamine stole home 11 times, still a record in Japanese baseball. His 1,337 hits stood as a record for a foreign-born player for more than forty years, until Alex Ramirez broke it in 2008.
Beyond the numbers, he brought his more aggressive style of play to Japanese baseball. Though he was nowhere near as rough as Ty Cobb, Yonamine must have looked like the Georgia Peach to his contemporaries in Japan. Introducing this style to Japan also allowed players to cross the Pacific in the other direction- there's no way that Ichiro Suzuki or Kazuo Matsui would have gotten a second look if they still played the same way that players did before Yonamine's arrival.
Beyond baseball, he helped heal the wounds of World War II, absorbing abuse from fans and teammates without responding. He didn't face the same level of harsh and widespread racism that Jackie Robinson did, but the comparison is a fair one for the impact that he made on the American players to follow.
The nickname of "Jackie Robinson of Japanese Baseball" is a title that Yonamine deserves, even if he doesn't embrace it. Fitts' book is an excellent way to read about Wally's spectacular life, digging deeply into newspaper reports and interviews with Yonamine himself to give a thorough and balanced presentation.
This is a history book, so Fitts doesn't draw attention to himself with snazzy metaphors and lyrical prose. His writing is smooth and readable and lets Yonamine's story shine through; he neither lauds his subject with unnecessary praise, nor does he unduly criticize those who made Yonamine's life unpleasant.
It's a fitting tribute to a ballplayer who shattered barriers and revolutionized a league, yet is unfailingly modest and gracious about it. No doubt this is the reason why so few of us have heard of Wally Yonamine. This book should go a long way towards rectifying that injustice- do your part by reading it.
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