The crack of the bat. The growing crescendo of cheers as the ball flew over the outfield fence. The flashing lights in celebration of the home run. The jubilation of the team and stadium announcer as the batter rounded the bases. Though my wife and I were thousands of miles away from our home, the baseball experience at its core is delightfully universal.
Then, the pep band started playing the home run hitter’s personalized song, and the crowd chanted along. That part was different.
______________
Let’s take a few steps back. I’ve been to a handful of epic games in my life. I took my wife to her first Kansas City Royals game in 2011, which just so happened to be Eric Hosmer’s MLB debut. We went to the Justin Maxwell walkoff grand slam game in 2013. I was at the 2014 Wild Card Game, and a handful of other playoff games since then.
And while I don’t have a particularly impressive set of MLB parks I’ve been to, we try to go to a game when we travel domestically. We saw Shohei Ohtani hit a home run in Dodgers Stadium. We saw Pete Alonso hit a home run at Citi Field. We almost got heat stroke going to Coors Field and the Great American Ball Park in cloudless skies during the dead of summer. We had the high privilege of, uh, watching Eric Skoglund give up 12 runs in Cleveland before the Royals got their second baserunner.
So when my wife and I were planning our trip to Japan in celebration of our 10th wedding anniversary in 2024, there were a few key parts of our trip. One of those was attending a professional Japanese baseball game.
Japan’s pro baseball league is called Nippon Professional Baseball (NPB). Since the country’s total geographic footprint is about as large as the state of California, there are way fewer teams–12, in total. Ten of those teams play on the main island of Honshu, with one playing on the northern island of Hokkaido and another on the southern island of Kyushu.
We almost didn’t make a game. Even though we were in Japan for almost two weeks, a few factors conspired against us. One, there are only ever six games going on at one time, which doesn’t present a lot of options. Two, it just had to fit our schedule. And three, there was a typhoon that resulted in cancellations of the entire league’s schedule for multiple days (even those that played indoors).
But we did eventually get to see one close to the end of our trip. The contest: the Hiroshima Toyo Carp playing the Yokohama DeNA Baystars.
______________
Yokohama Stadium opened in 1978, and it’s located in the heart of the Yokohama city center right next to a train station. The stadium was fine; it had a small video board, but there were plenty of food vendors and seats were close to the action. Seating 35,000 in its baseball configuration, it looked like what you think a 1970s-era baseball-specific stadium looks like. It was a nice place to watch a game, but easily the least notable part about the experience.
As is the case everywhere in urban Japan, getting to the stadium was easy. We simply took a train from Shibuya Station and walked out of Yokohama-Koen station to find ourselves mere steps from the gates. Parking was nonexistent, and everyone was either getting off at the same station or simply walking from the many offices and apartments in the immediate area.
The Japanness of it all started before we even got there. We took the train from Shibuya Station (yes, Persona 5 fans, that Shibuya Station) which dropped us off across the street from Yokohama Stadium. We had purchased tickets online and scanned them at the gate. There was minimal security; certainly less than in the States. From there, we went to our seats.
I know that a lot of folks try out food and drink at a stadium, and a friend of mine who visits MLB stadiums with his brother uses the cuisine quality as a core ingredient to judge the experience. We had already eaten, though, and even when I go to games here in the States I don’t usually eat at the stadium.
______________
Our seats were located along the first base side, the Kauffman Stadium equivalent of the sections in the low 140s. Notably, our seats were in the home section, which was specifically designated because the fans are very, very active in the game. In the photo above, you can see the Hiroshima Carp fans over along the third base dugout and, more notably, over in the outfield seats beyond the left field fence.
Baseball in Japan isn’t just another sport: it is the national sport of the nation, and it is an incredibly big deal there. Japanese fans therefore have more in common with European soccer fans than MLB fans. This means that they’re loud and proud all the time.
It also means that there are a bunch of chants. And when you go to an NPB game, you’ll hear bespoke chants for every player, and I do mean every player—even for American-born players, of which there were a couple in the game we went to. During the pregame lineup announcements, the Baystars pep band played the theme for each player. And yes, the Carp brought their own pep band, too, and played the themes for their own players.
The energy in the stadium was, as you might expect, incredible, and it only got more electric as the game went on. It was an early evening game, and more and more folks showed up directly from work, dressed in their work attire. When they got to their seats, they put on the Baystars or Carp gear that they brought with them and joined the chanting.
______________
The game itself was a fun time. It was a relatively high-scoring game considering the traditionally low-offense affair that is indicative of NPB play. There was a home run, and the home team ended up winning handily.
While playoff MLB games can be loud and raucous, the vibes of an NPB game are just so different. Not only do the players have individual chants, but these chants happen continuously when they are up to bat. It’s louder when the home crowd is up to bat, but remember that the away team also has a pep band and their own chanting fans in a block.
It was actually enjoyable to see the Baystars play the Carp. Earlier in the week, we had made a trip to Hiroshima. I had wanted to visit Peace Memorial Park, the A-Bomb Dome, and the Peace Memorial Museum, and we did so—it was equal parts somber and historically fascinating, and every American who visits Japan should try to make a trip there. When we were there, we stopped by the official Carp merch store at Mazda Zoom Zoom Stadium (its real name, I promise) and picked up some NPB merch, including a Carp jersey and a hat depicting a bowl of ramen swinging a baseball bat.
The charm of Hiroshima—a really lovely city with an expansive tram network—and their clear love for their baseball team won out, so I guess we’re Carp fans? So it was fun to watch that team play, even if we bought tickets in the wrong section. So it goes.
______________
All in all, watching an NPB game was an absolute blast and one of the highlights of a trip that included many, many highlights. Japan is a great place to visit; it’s got easily usable public transit, a wide variety of delicious food, and experiences for every kind of traveler.
And even though this trip happened a year and a half ago at this point, my wife and I are going back to Japan in April. The aforementioned typhoon prevented us from going to the Nagashima Spa Land amusement park, and that place has multiple bucket list roller coasters we wanted to ride.
Of course, that means another opportunity to watch NPB baseball. At the moment, that’s looking like a game between the Yomiuri Giants and the Tokyo Yakult Swallows, although it could be a few others. I can’t wait to experience it again.
Cole Caufield anytime goal
Ryan O'Reilly Over 0.5 assists
Lucas Raymond Over 0.5 assists
