Falter of His Country : It Seems All of Korea Wants to Know Why Chan Ho Park Has Not Matched the Success of Japan’s Hideo Nomo

Chan Ho Park watches the crowd of Japanese reporters hovering around Hideo Nomo, writing down every word.

Park leans over, his voice little more than a whisper, and says, “Sometimes, when I see all of the Japanese reporters, I feel bad. It reminds you of Japan being real powerful, big and strong. It makes me sad. I want Korea to be big and powerful and strong too.

“That’s why I have to make the Dodgers this year. I just have to. My country needs me.”

Park is often awakened by calls from home, where everybody, it seems, wants to know when he is going to be in the major leagues.

In Korea, they no longer can wait for Park to gain the experience he needs to become a major league pitcher. They want him up in the big leagues now.

And there is one other thing. He had better pitch better than Nomo.

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“It’s very difficult,” Park said. “The Korean people have big hopes for me. They look at Nomo and say, ‘Look how good Nomo is doing.’ Everything is Japan, Japan, Japan.

“Look, Nomo is Japanese, right? I’m Korean. I’ve got to be like Nomo, or even do more than Nomo. I have to. I just have to.”

It is no longer a country simply rooting for one of its own. Park’s success has become a matter of national pride. For decades through World War II, Korea was subject to Japanese rule. Some Koreans still talk of the contempt for them in Japan. And, in return, there is deep resentment for the Japanese among many Koreans.

The animosity between the countries has had no effect on Park and Nomo. They frequently run together after practice, and just last week had a 30-minute conversation in a fragmented mixture of English and Japanese.

“I know there are a lot of problems between our countries, but Nomo is a nice man,” Park said. “I listen to him tell me how he pitches, how he approaches games. He’s not good explaining to me, but I try to learn Japanese.

“I think deep in his heart, he’d like me to be a teammate.”

Maybe, but the popularity and success of Nomo has tended to exasperate Koreans. They have waited two years for Park to make the Dodgers. They watched him begin his career in the major leagues, only to go back to the minors.

They also are aware that by the time he is 27, Park must begin serving a 30-month term in the Korean army.

Perhaps if Park, 22, is a star in the major leagues and generating valuable good will, the Korean government will waive Park’s military obligation, his agent, Steve Kim, suggests. But if Park continues pitching in the minors, Kim said, the government probably won’t hesitate calling him home. There is a clock ticking, and Park knows it.

“You can’t imagine the amount of pressure on Chan Ho,” Kim said. “He’d have to be a god not to feel the pressure. There are a million Koreans alone in Southern California that want him to succeed, let alone an entire country.

“People back home keep comparing Chan Ho to Nomo, and, let’s face it, right now there is some jealousy there. They want a hero right now. Unfortunately, I think their patience is running out.”

The Dodgers are as much to blame as anyone for such lofty expectations. Their intentions might have been noble, but it was a mistake for Park to start in the major leagues two months after his arrival in 1994.

The Dodgers fawned over him all spring that year, telling him he was ready. When they sent him to double-A San Antonio only two weeks into the season, he was shattered.

“It turned out to be a bad thing that happened to me,” Park said. “I was so happy at the time, but I wasn’t ready. I didn’t know anything. I didn’t know English. I didn’t know American heroes. I knew the Dodger team name, but not any players. I didn’t even know how the minor league system worked.

“When I got sent to minors, I kept thinking all I had to do was have one good start and they’d call me up. I thought I’d come back any day. I don’t think about keeping in shape or trying to improve. I’m just thinking if I do good a couple of games, I’ll be back.

“I put so much pressure on myself. It was no good. No good.

“People in Korea don’t understand how I can be in major leagues two years ago, and be in minors now.”

The Dodgers concede they erred in their decision to open the 1994 season with Park and fellow rookie Darren Dreifort. Neither was ready, physically or emotionally. Park was only 20 and had pitched only two years in college at Hanyang University. He had a strong arm--his fastball was clocked in the mid-90s--but he was woefully inexperienced.

“Not only did we assess it wrong, but so did other scouts,” said Fred Claire, Dodger executive vice president. “[Park] certainly pitched well enough to deserve to be on the team, but he lacked that experience.

“We didn’t misjudge the quality of the arm, but we misjudged the maturity. It was just too much to overcome.

“But I’ll tell you one thing we have not done is misjudge his character. You couldn’t ask for anything more. You’re talking about someone with star quality. He has the looks, the personality and the charm to take him to the very top level.”

Park still tips his cap out of respect to the home-plate umpire when he takes the mound, but otherwise he is as Americanized as a Southland surfer. He drives a sports car, walks around with music blaring in his headphones, eats late-night pizza, and takes great delight at the women screaming his name.

Park now goes months at a time without craving Korean food and is basically independent. He went back to an Albuquerque car dealership 10 times last year when he thought he was being cheated. The dealership had promised him some accessories for his new car, and when it didn’t deliver, Park insisted he be treated fairly. This was no language barrier, he said, that caused a misunderstanding.

Park finally got his accessories.

Certainly, Park no longer is the butt of anyone’s jokes in the clubhouse. Dodger owner Peter O’Malley would love to see him in the starting rotation. Manager Tom Lasorda praises Park at every opportunity and invites him to dinner.

Yet everyone now realizes the maturation process can’t be rushed. Park’s fastball is one of the best in the league. His curveball and changeup are major league caliber. Scouts still rave about his performance the last game of the 1995 season when he started against the San Diego Padres and struck out five consecutive batters.

The moment that Park realizes that he truly can pitch in the major leagues, he will be with the Dodgers, pitching coach Dave Wallace said. He needs to intimidate batters just as he did in the Arizona Fall League, pitching inside and knocking them down. He must quit being awed by Barry Bonds and Fred McGriff. He can’t worry about giving up hits to Tony Gwynn. And, hey, that’s just Lenny Dykstra, he cusses and spits tobacco near everyone.

“I think I just have to relax,” said Park, who suddenly is pushing Pedro Astacio for the fifth starter’s job. “My mom and dad pray for me every day. They help me when I’m sad. They tell me not to let anything bother me.

“My mom even called me before my last start. It was the first time she ever called me at Dodgertown. My mom doesn’t know English. I say, ‘Mom, how did you get through switchboard? You don’t speak English.’

“She tell me, ‘Moms can do anything.’ Then, in English, she says, ‘Relax, just relax.’

“I’m trying. Believe me, I’m trying.

“One day I will make it. Then, I will make my country proud. I’ll make everybody proud.

“I just want that day to come soon.”