Japanese Transition from Hopeful to Hoped-For

Soon, MLB teams will have to build a separate clubhouse simply to accomadate the team's translators.

We see them in dugouts, at press conferences, sandwiched between David Ortiz and Daisuke Matsuzaka. Just look for the guy who's too old to be a batboy and too small to play a high school ball game. He's kicking back on the bench with a Gatorade, standing almost out of sight as their employer goes through an hour-long pre-game workout without saying a word to anyone.

Though most clubhouses have at least a few guys who, despite decades in the majors, still speak English with an almost unnavigable Spanish accent, American fans are unphased by the amount of "Ramirez", "Ordonez" and "Hernandez" t-shirts sold at Olympia Sports. You can say it with a New York accent, a Boston accent, a southern accent, heck, even a Canadian accent. So many organizations have Spanish-speaking players, they don't even need translators; veterans translate for the newcomers until they get a better hold on the language.

As the Caribbean influence becomes less and less recognizable in the MLB, no one can avoid the Japanese stars who arrive in America to sign multi-million dollar contracts with baseball's bests clubs. With them come the quintessential Japanese-American translator, thousands of small Japanese reporters with miniscule cellphones and cameras with more knobs than a nuclear weapon. It's an honor, really, to have these guys sign contracts in America; they're leaving behind millions of adoring fans to become just "good" again.

Most people mark the "Asian Invasion" to 1995, when Hideo Nomo signed with the L.A. Dodgers. In the years to follow, a few notable players signed with Major League clubs (Shigetoshi Hasegawa and Hideki Irabu, to name a few). A mere ten or so years ago, Japan was not yet on the radar of American scouts. In recent years, Hideki Matsui and Ichiro Suzuki have upped the game and the attention it receives in Japan.

Last year, the Red Sox (and many other teams) changed the course of MLB involvement in Japan. They actively scouted, bickered over, and eventually procured Daisuke Matsuzaka, the best pitcher in Japan. We now see Japanese players reaching every level of prestige in America: Matsuzaka, captivating press worldwide; Matsui not getting so much attention but playing electrifying outfield every day; even high schoolers in Japan are signing on with Minor League clubs in America instead of in Japan.

The thing is, guys like Matsui and Matsuzaka have got it made in Japan-- all the money, media and attention a guy could need. They're they Derek Jeter's and Johan Santana's of Japan. And Japan doesn't like losing their leaders, either (there are regulations in the Japanese league about how many non-Japanese players are allowed on each team).

Signing yet another foreign star in Kosuke Fukudome today, the Cubs are one more team entering the market of foreign-born talent that can't promise to make your team better but is much more likely to sell tickets to a Japanese-American family and overflow your press box.

It is undeniable that prestige players from across the Pacific are changing the game with new pitches, batting stance, and even tools (watch Hideki Okajima warm up in the bullpen-- he uses multiple curious contraptions) that diversify the game without changing it. The Japanese are making their mark on the American baseball industry, and with that mark comes the recognition of Japan as a new baseball microcosm.

Still, don't expect the MLB to become tri-lingual anytime soon. Success in the Major Leagues, for Japanese players, is still only attainable after reaching just about superhero status in their own country. The American public is still confused as to which one of Ichiro's names comes first; Red Sox t-shirts are emblazoned with "Dice-K" on the back, just in case we forget how to pronounce his name.

It looks like the translators won't be going anywhere anytime soon.