Slugging It Out in Japan: An American Major Leaguer in the Tokyo Outfield by Warren Cromartie & Robert Whiting

Author:Warren Cromartie & Robert Whiting [Cromartie, Warren]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Japanime Co. Ltd.
Published: 2014-05-02T00:00:00+00:00

The Devils

All anyone talked about in May was Bob Horner, the ex-Atlanta Brave who’d just signed a one-year contract with the Yakult Swallows for two million dollars. He’d hit .273 with 27 home runs in 1986 for the Braves, but he couldn’t get the free agent deal he wanted, so he opted for Japan.

His photo was everywhere. He even knocked the Giants off the front pages of the sports dailies for a while. The Swallows turned on the lights at Jingu stadium one off-night for three hours, at a cost of $30,000. just so Big Bob could take nighttime batting practice.

Horner started playing in the first week of May. He hit six home runs in four games. Then the pitchers stopped throwing him strikes and the umpires started to squeeze him just like they did to all the new gaijin in town. It was a way of showing him his place, so to speak.

In early June, we played the Horner-ized Swallows at Jingu in front of 52,000 people eager to see what a big-time major league star looked like in the flesh. Horner hit a home rum, his eighth, which made them delirious, and so did I, which didn’t seem to have quite the same effect. Horner also struck out three times. The umpires rang his ass up. One ball was a foot outside. Strike. Another hit the ground. Strike.

I talked to him the next day in pregame practice. Approximately 200 reporters and photographers surrounded us, cameras clicking, tape recorders thrust between us, recording every second of our historic meeting.

“I don’t believe this shit,” he said.

Flash! Pop! Whirr!

“Horns,” I said, “You ain’t seen nothing yet.”

Flash! Whirr! Pop!

The reporters were buzzing among themselves, trying to figure out just exactly what it was we were talking about. They would take their tapes back to the city desk where an English expert would decipher them.

“Bob. give me a shout if your family needs help getting settled in.”

Whirr! Pop! Buzz ...

I think the mental strain was getting to Horner already. I was sure the writers and some of the fans wanted to see him fall on his face. Because whenever he struck out or hit into a double play, the credibility of the Japanese game, in their eyes, went up.

The next night Horner went 2-for-3, and I hit another homer, my ninth. I picked up the sports papers the following morning to see a page one story about the Great Battle for the Triple Grown. There was a picture of Ochiai facing pictures of Horner, Bass, and now me.

Under Horner was the caption, “Red Devil.”

Under Bass were the words, “Blond Devil.” Under mine, “Black Devil.” Under Ochiai, “Ochiai.”

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