April 10, 2008 - 3:42 a.m.

I can't believe that it's been a year since I updated here. I've got no excuses. Plenty of things have happened, but I haven't blogged at all. And I can't even say that I'm going to in the future either, because I've said that before and obviously haven't. Ah well, here's something I wrote a 2 years ago after the 1st World Baseball Classic. I meant to enter it right after it happened, but it got lost somewhere...

~~~~~~~~~

March '06
This year the only thing My Boy wanted was to go to the World Baseball Classic. Since I have a job that pays me well enough, I indulged him. While I enjoy baseball, I am no where near as passionate about it as he is. But as passionate as he is, some of the people at these games are heads above him.

The first game that we saw was the Dominicans against the Cubans. From the beginning the Dominican fans waved their flags and cheered their team on. And who could blame them? With a starting lineup made up of mostly All-Star players, they were expected to blow the Cubans away. So imagine everyone's surprise when Cuba pulled ahead 3-1. Suddenly Cuban fans appeared out of nowhere in the stands. Pretty impressive for a team made up of players who never have gotten the chance to play at a major league level. But as great as it was to see them win, the game itself was far from interesting. Quite frankly, it put me to sleep around the seventh inning. Judging by the way the players on the Dominican played, it apparently put them to sleep too.

The night game was the Koreans against the Japanese. Now I confess, as a Japanese-American my interest in this game extends far beyond My Boy's interest. While I am not Japanese, I can't help feeling a connection. I like to see Japanese athletes do well. It's proof that Asians, regardless of where we were born, are capable of competing with white or black Americans. Athletes like Hideo Nomo and Ichiro challenge the notion that many Americans have that Asians are thinkers, not athletes. Of course, as far as I'm concerned, in a competition between Japan and the U.S., it's the U.S. all the way. But tonight was not about the U.S. and I was free to cheer for my ancestors' countrymen. And what a game it was. The differences between the earlier game and this game were like the differences between night and day. The Dominican and Cuban fans cheered for their team, but the Koreans brought a whole 'nother level to it. Armed with thundersticks and flags, they chanted regularly, loudly and frequently. Unfortunately for them, it did nothing to helf them win. Even though they had beaten Japan twice so far in the tournament, it just wasn't fated to be 3 times. But it was a game filled with excitement. Even though the score through the first five innings were the same for both games, the atmosphere and level of play just made the Japan/Korea game so much better. There were so many hits that nearly went out of the park. And unlike in the Dominican/Cuba game, there were no errors.

The other interesting thing for me about the night game was the make up of the crowd. There were so many young Koreans and Japanese in attendance. Just by looking at them and listening to them talk, it was easy to tell that a large percentage of them were not native Japanese or Koreans. And yet, just like me, they were pulling for the team that reflected their roots. No more traitorous than me, they were none the less compelled to root for their roots.

What is it that compels us like that? I love being an American. I would no more try to deny it than I would try to deny my Japanese ancestors. But Italian-Americans don't normally feel the need to cheer for Italy in world competitions. What is it that makes me feel the need to? Maybe it's because in so many respects, I often feel like I don't belong. These Japanese players may speak a different language and have a different idea of what life is and should be like, but they look like me. In a crowd of them, as long as I don't say anything, I would be indistinguishable. Amongst a crowd of Americans, even if I express the same ideals, I would still be singled out because I don't look like them. Because I look alien I will always be treated as such. But tonight for a brief moment in time, I looked like everyone else and shared in their hopes and cheered my heart out.

Days Long Past - Tomorrow's Another Day