I made it into Osaka safely despite weather misgivings and train delays over an hour (I managed to get on an earlier train that had arrived a little before mine was supposed to). I don't know if it was the weather or the holiday weekend that tied things up, but the Hiroshima train station was a mess. I was definitely happy to be out of there.
With time to spare before finding my hotel I visited Osaka Castle. A gorgeous eight story pagoda surrounded by high thick walls, the area seemed to be a favorite place to simply hang out. In the distance, I could hear an outdoor concert underway. How appropriate to be hiking up to a building that was centuries old (okay, so the main building is only from 1930's, but there's been a castle here since 1615).
The inside had been converted to a very modern looking museum chronicling the castle's place in locale history. What's interesting is how the Japanese describe war and violence in their history. It is quite all right for a warrior to throw himself against insurmountable odds, noble even, especially if that warrior had been chastised by the general earlier.
After the castle, I found my hotel, checked in, and then headed off for the baseball game. You can find some information about the Tigers at this link. You could almost draw a chart on the similarities between the Phillies and the Tigers, I thought.
My strategy was simple. I had directions to the park, however I also shamelessly followed any person wearing clothing promoting the Tigers. I think I freaked one couple out a little as they walked a little and then ducked back onto the same train we had just departed. Aside from that, I was happy to got with the crowd.
And the crowd led me straight to, not just the ballpark, but also into a nearby building that turned out to be a department store. It was like Black Friday on the day before a hurricane is supposed to strike. Especially the prepared foods section and the beer area. You could bring this stuff into the park? I nabbed a container of potato wedges and two cans of beer before heading off to find my seat.
Turns out, while you can bring in outside beer, you cannot bring in the cans or the bottles (what the people buying cases of beer did, I don't know). There were tables between the ticket booth and the stadium where attendants poured your beer into cups for you. Now double fisting, I found out I was trying to go in the wrong entrance. The stadium isn't all open on the inside and you have to choose your door carefully. So I schlepped around the outside (still double fisting) until I reached the rightfield door.
Rightfield is where the home team cheering sections sat and I'd decided that if I was going to do this, then I was doing it right. It took some searching but I finally found my seat. I swear the surrounding people all chorused "Amerika-jin?" when they saw me. Once the game started, though, I proved my Tigers loyalty! It also helped when I asked the woman behind me the pitcher's name. She provided a list of the players in Romaji (English letters) and I was now able to keep up.
The baystars went up to bat first, however it wasn't until the Tigers took the plate that I really got an eyeful. Enormous yellow flags came out, a man stood up on a podium in front of my section and started screaming, whistles and drums began to sound and the cheering began. Every player has their own cheer and my throat was soon hoarse from shouting.
Trouble began early, though, between two men near me. To my left sat a normally dressed man who was behaving a little oddly. Not quite comfortable in his seat, sometimes pretending to swing an imaginary bat. In front of us sat a yankee couple. Yankees are rather wild members of Japanese society. Rough around the edges, they're kind of like gang members (not yakuza, maybe hoodlums?). Anyways, something happened and soon the two were yelling at each other. The Yankee stood up and I didn't need a translator to know that he was saying "let's go!" A third man soon arrived and said some cooling words and the two sat again.
The problem with not knowing the language, however, is I didn't know which one was the crazy one. Was it the average looking man who was behaving erratically, or the delinquent? I slid one seat away from the whole thing until a family arrived forcing me back to my chair. Luckily, the man beside me left for a good portion of the game (to take his meds?). After that, the whole experience was far more enjoyable. The lady behind me was very nice, she loaned me her umbrella when it started to rain and pointed out when the pitcher was removed. And when the Tigers got a 3-run triple, the stadium exploded! Mr. Yankee was even friendly with me.
One surprising thing was the beer sellers here. They were all young girls dressed in what appeared to me to be something similar to girl scout uniforms complete with backpack. Inside the backpack, however, was a keg. These girls all acted very childishly, giggling and speaking in high pitched voices as they pulled beers for the spectators. It was really quite bizzare, though the idea of a keg instead of a tub of ice and bottles is pretty interesting.
Alas, at the top of the ninth it was time to head home. I stumbled my way to the train station and hesitantly asked one of the passengers if the train was headed to my station. He pointed to the seat next to him and grunted which could have either meant "yes", or "sit down white girl and find out." It turned out to be an affirmative grunt and an hour later I was blessedly asleep.
Tomorrow, I head to Takayama in the Japanese alps. I can't believe my trip is almost over!
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