His Forkball Is a Chopstick

A few pacemakers have taken to overheating here with the arrival of the latest, most clever Japanese import yet, a Yutaki Enatsu they’re calling it.

From what we’ve been able to ascertain a Yutaki Enatsu is not a computerized food processor or even a satellite dish you can wear on your wrist. No, a Yutaki Enatsu is perhaps the greatest pitcher in Japan’s baseball history, a left-handed screwballing Sadahara Oh and the highest-paid player in that country last year at a cool 75-million yen (about $330,000).

And in his first weeks of spring training with the Milwaukee Brewers, he is already threatening to make our brand of baseball belly up to the sushi bar. In his first two outings at the Brewers’ spring training home in Sun City, Ariz., Enatsu allowed just one hit and no runs in four innings, and even trotted out the old Rip Sewell eephus pitch, the giant bloop ball hitters love to grope at but rarely hit. All of which forced Brewer Manager George Bamberger to re-post the odds of the 36-year-old Enatsu making the team at 70-30, up from 50-50.

In the hotel coffee shop, though, Enatsu was natsu lucky. Take, for instance, the morning he ordered breakfast without benefit of his interpreter. He has a stable of three phrases--”outside corner,” “video cassettes,” and “Ann-Margaret”--but being as these don’t often come up in most breakfasting, he was forced to proceed without a net.

He wanted oatmeal. What he got was two milks and a shrug from the waitress. Ever polite, he smiled. “Domo arigato. “ Thank you.

So it is that Enatsu has given up on American food and resigned himself to eventual withering. Of course, at 5-11, 225 pounds, Enatsu looks as though he could weather a little withering. The Brewer players have taken to calling him “Mickey,” for ex-Detroit Tiger Mickey Lolich, known for his moundsmanship--and poundsmanship. No insult to the wry Enatsu, who pointed out: “My body, it is not made for, how you say, sex symbol.”

Most certainly not. To the Japanese, The Great Enatsu was made for one thing: pitching, glorious pitching. And if in Sun City he is just another non-roster name nobody can pronounce, in Japan, he is Ichi-ban --No. 1--a charming rogue on an adulation plane with Reggie Jackson, who, incidentally, happens to be Enatsu’s ichi-ban man. “I like him because he is anti-media,” Enatsu said.

They do seem to be yin and yang. Reggie is big here. Enatsu is big there. In fact, if you are bi-Pacific (very cool), you’ll note that both plug the same company, Panasonic. How about that? Enatsu-vision.

In the papers, Reggie is Mr. October, Enatsu is One Lonely Wolf. Like Reggie, Enatsu is outspoken. Unlike Reggie, that should work out fine, since, as Brewer publicity director Tom Skibosh said, “Enatsu can be outspoken all he wants. Nobody will understand him.”

Like Reggie, Enatsu is a comic-book figure in his homeland, elevating himself to great deeds or sinking himself in great muck. Winner of more than 200 games and savior of almost 200 more, twice league MVP, he once struck out 401 hitters in a 130-game season. In 1968, he struck out the first eight St. Louis Cardinals he faced on an exhibition tour.

But, like Reggie, taking orders is not one of his better graces. There were rumors of a shoving match between Enatsu and his Tokyo Seibu Lions manager, Hiro Oaka--a hup one, hup two type, as Japanese writers describe him. Trouble bubbled between the two. Imagine that, a superstar and a manager not getting along . . .

Q: You’ve heard of Billy Martin, right?

Interpreter: He says no .

Q: Managed Reggie with the New York Yankees. A very driven man. Very tough.

vl,3 A: He says he does not think he would like this Billy Martin.

Mad, Oaka shipped the great Enatsu off to the minor leagues. Expensive, no other Japanese team was willing to pick up his contract. Frustrated, Enatsu retired. Brewer scout Ray Poitevint signed him.

So far, The Wolf has impressed with his cleverness and deception of speed. As Bamberger put it: “He throws this when you’re looking for that .” Or, as Brewer second baseman Jim Gantner said after Enatsu got his first win of the spring: “That guy was doing some serious painting out there.”

But how could Gantner tell Enatsu that? Teammates can go through one of Enatsu’s interpreters, but camaraderie loses something in the translation.

Player: “Say, Not-SOO! What’s shakin’ babe?”

Interpreter: “Just a second, I’ll ask.”

(Long pause for Japanese exchange.)

Interpreter: “He says ‘Not much. What is happening with you, big fella?”’

By this time, the American is out on the field, engaged in a zippy game of pepper.

Not that it matters. What Enatsu wants to prove won’t take words. It will take deeds.

“America thinks Japanese baseball is like high school level or something,” he says. “I want to prove that it’s more than that. Forty years ago, Japan lost a war with the U.S. and I want to show the American people that the baseball in our country is getting stronger when compared to U.S. baseball.”

And if he can’t accomplish that, Enatsu would simply like one small souvenir back with him: “I want to strike out Reggie,” he says.

The Brewers play Reggie’s Angels Tuesday in Palm Springs.

Maybe then we’ll find out who’s really ichi-ban.