Second Opinion / Rafu Shimpo : Nomo’s Power Pitching Throws Curve to Image of Asian Athlete

Much as I try to resist it, I find myself following Hideo Nomo’s baseball exploits to a greater extent than your ordinary young pitcher’s. Though he is Japanese and not Japanese American (at least not yet), there are a lot of reasons I’m pulling for him.

Like many of my Asian American studies influenced peers, I insist on being considered Japanese American/Asian American and not Japanese. I have decided that not being able to speak Japanese is a critical part of my identity as a Sansei. I am always quick to point out how Japan’s postwar economic success must be balanced against the repressive, racist and conformist elements of Japanese society. I have also pointed out how the Japanese seem to view us Japanese Americans with puzzlement and wonder on the one hand and with condescension and opportunism on the other.

Despite all this, I’m genuinely excited by Nomo’s early success. Many of the reasons I like Nomo have little to do with his being Japanese. Having been born a Dodger fan, I root for his success just as I rooted for Fernando Valenzuela nearly 15 years ago, Orel Hershiser 10 years ago, Ramon Martinez five years ago and Ismael Valdes now.

I also like Nomo because of his pitching style. He has proven to be an extreme power pitcher, a guy whose numbers look like early Randy Johnson, Nolan Ryan or Sandy Koufax. He leads the league in strikeouts, has an amazing hits-allowed-to-innings ratio and walks entirely too many people. He even swings the bat like Koufax--very badly.

But many of the reasons I like him do have to do with his being Japanese, or at least Asian. I went to see his first home start and found myself in the company of many other Japanese Americans. However, it wasn’t the same group of Japanese Americans I see at community fund-raisers, East West Players premieres or Asian American studies conferences. It was a part of the community that many of us Nisei/Sansei/Yonsei don’t acknowledge very much, made up of recent immigrants, visiting students and other shin-Issei.

Many of these people had followed Nomo’s career in Japan and clearly identified with his experiences here. A lot of times, it doesn’t seem like us “old” Japanese Americans and the “new” ones have a lot in common. If Nomo can be one more thing that we do have in common, it would be fine with me.

For most previous Asian male athletes, success has come in sports such as gymnastics, tennis or golf as opposed to the big American team sports. Those Asians who have made a mark in sports have generally been portrayed in a manner that goes along with our image in society as a whole.

Nomo’s game, built as it is on pure power, flies in the face of such images. Japanese baseball was supposed to be the domain of clever, sneaky pitchers who didn’t throw as hard, but were masters of changing speeds and hitting the corners of the strike zone.

The first pitcher in 30 years to come to America from Japan isn’t supposed to be the exact opposite of that image, a strikeout pitcher with poor control. Even if he does little else in his career, Nomo has already succeeded in broadening the image of the Asian male athlete into territory previously unchartered.

Excerpted from a column by Brian Niiya in Rafu Shimpo, a Japanese daily newspaper published in Los Angeles.