Daily Sports Column (Japanese) Here
True Hanshin Tigers fans have had their worlds rocked no fewer than four times in the last month*. While baseball is “just a game” and we need not get too uptight or depressed over what happens on the field, we also need to remember that each guy involved with the team is a human being with his own emotional state and his own life to live. We can also look at our own lives and try to learn something from what has transpired through them. And so, let’s walk through each of these guys’ situations and see if we can’t make something good out of what all feels really bad.
Yangervis Solarte walked away from the team on September 9th due to a perceived (or stated) lack of motivation. I have a few serious questions about this, though. Hanshin management has summed up a pretty complicated affair in this one sentence, and we have not heard a word from the man himself. Clearly, he came out to Japan with motivation. He started his stint with the Tigers motivated enough to be directly responsible for two wins. He was also apparently motivated on the farm to hit the ball well and earn a call-up. But when he did, the only words the fans have gotten are “he said he had lost his motivation, so we sent him back home.”
My theory: Somewhere along the lines, communication broke down. What was he told about the expectations the team had for him? How much was communicated before he arrived? When he got sent down to the farm? When he got called up? Was he shown enough care? Did anyone listen to his struggles and worries during his time on the farm?
And so I ask myself those same questions. Do I communicate my expectations and feelings towards others clearly enough? Have I given them a chance to voice their opinions, and do I show them care, even when their feelings do not match mine? Success in life depends greatly on good communication skills and sensitivity to others’ emotional conditions.
Takashi Toritani was told, in essence, on August 29 that he was not part of the team’s plans for next season. The result is that he is playing his final games with the team but will seek employment elsewhere in 2020. He has been a role model to every guy who has worn the Tigers uniform in the past 16 years, practicing diligently, taking great care of himself, and comporting himself like a consummate professional. He leads the team in career hits, career games, and ranks in the top 7 in career stolen bases and RBIs as well. Clearly in the twilight of a remarkable career, fans and media (and probably the man himself) would like nothing better than to see him retire as a member of the Tigers.
My theory: The talks between Toritani and the front office have been going on for a long time, and many options have been explored and discussed. If this is not the case then the team is more incompetent than I thought. In any case, he thinks he is still a serviceable and productive player, but the team does not. Either he is overestimating his ability, or the team is underestimating it. Whatever the case, fans definitely feel like he is not being shown his worth – in other words, he has had some of his dignity taken from him.
And so I ask myself some questions: Do I fully appreciate those who have worked in this world? I’m not just talking about my parents, my spouse and those above me at work. I mean in general… do I see people for who they are? Can I somehow contribute to them keeping their dignity? Do I throw around words like “useless” or “washed up” too casually? It is possible to look down on anyone and everyone, especially in this digital age of venom-spewing social media. It’s time for me to start honoring people more, because everyone has made positive contributions to the world.
Randy Messenger is hanging up his cleats at the end of 2019, and it was his own decision to do so. The man has been the ace of the pitching staff for the better part of the decade, and has high standards for himself and his level of play. When this season did not start particularly well for him, he asked to be sent to the farm. He came back, still did not pitch very well, got treatment on his shoulder, tried again to make a comeback, but ultimately could not perform at his usual high level, even on the farm. After one particular bad outing on the farm, he exploded in frustration, and one day later, announced his intent to retire to the club. They consented.
My thoughts: It’s a real shame that a guy who gave so much of his time, energy, effort and love “for the team” was never rewarded by said team with a pennant or a championship. It’s all he ever talked about. Yes, he was coming up on a great personal accomplishment in 100 career NPB wins… but he is sacrificing that chance at personal accolades and doing what is best for his family. On the other hand, he also had an extremely unprofessional final outing on the farm. Reports of him giving the media the middle finger and throwing his chew at them during the game certainly leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.
And so I ask myself some questions: How much of my time, energy and love go towards the betterment of others, or towards a common goal shared with a community of some sort? Do I seek personal glory and satisfaction, or do I have altruistic motives? Also, am I leaving a strong final impression on people, or do I sometimes leave a bad taste in their mouths?
Gene Bacque passed away on September 14 at the age of 82. Once the ace of the Hanshin rotation (his 1964 Sawamura Award speaks for itself – no other import pitcher won it for another 52 years), As time went by and physical ailments piled up, the big Louisiana native breathed his last, leaving family, friends and fans mourning. And yet, I can almost guarantee you that he lived his life out to its fullest, and has left behind a strong legacy. His five children, and eight grandchildren and two great-grandchildren can attest to that – all loved him dearly. He also spent his final years cheering for Randy to break his records. Ironically, just a day after Randy announced his retirement (thereby guaranteeing the record would stay with Bacque for the foreseeable future), Bacque went home to his maker.
My thoughts: When a man looks back on his life and wants nothing more but to talk with his old teammates, stand on his old mound, cheer for his old team and hope for another man to take his records, you know he had things figured out. Money and fame took a back seat to family, relationships and others’ greatness. He will be missed, and I hope remembered, for years – decades – as a man who lived life the way it is meant to be lived.
And so I ask myself some questions: What will my family and friends have to say about me when I am “called home”? Have I poured my heart into the right things? Am I living life well? What’s my legacy?
There is no denying that these four departures from the Hanshin Tigers community are heartbreaking and gut-wrenching. But this is also a good time to reflect on each situation, each man, and apply something to our own lives.
* This article was written (and submitted) in the days before Shintaro Yokota announced his retirement. Better make that five.