Take Us Out to the Carp Game

We both used to be baseball fans.  But sometime in the past 19 years, any love for baseball died.  It is hard to care about baseball when generations of kids are growing up without seeing our home team win even just one more game than they lose, season after season; too many fans care about the pierogi races, fireworks, concerts, and fancy stadiums more than the game itself; the owners appear to have no desire to improve the team because losing still makes them money; and baseball in the United States is a business for big market teams instead of a sport for the people.

We’ve heard stories about the fervor and enthusiasm the Japanese fans can whip up for their teams.  So while we were in Hiroshima, we decided to put our baseball cynicism aside and go root on the Hiroshima Carp.

We knew nothing about the Carp before we bought the tickets, but The Google informed us that we should feel right at home at the Carp game.  Like the perpetually losing Pittsburgh Pirates, the Carp have serious winning problems.  The Carp’s glory days were in the seventies, at least judging from the banners displayed in Mazda Zoom-Zoom Stadium.  (Apparently corporate stadium names are also popular in Japan).  But unlike the majority of Pirates fans (most notably excluding my ever-faithful Aunt Lynne, Uncle John, and cousins Karen and Johnny), the Carp fans have the ability to stay enthusiastic and hopeful during the entire game.  And I mean the entire game.

I was doubtful that the Carp could be formidable opponents.  Fish, even big ones like carp, just don’t sound that intimidating.  Piranahas, maybe.  Sharks, yes.  But carp?  And they seemed unoriginal, without rhyme or reason.  Their logo emulates the logo of the Cincinnati Reds, but their mascot – notably, not a carp – is similar to the Philadelphia Phillies Fanatic (probably because the mascot was designed by the same firm).  But we were in Hiroshima, so it’s root, root, root for the home team.

Before we got down to the business of rooting for the Carp, we checked out the vendors to see what was on offer.  Happily, we found overpriced beer, nachos and hot dogs, because it just isn’t baseball without them.  (Well, Sean was happy about the hot dogs; I wasn’t touching those with a ten feet pole.  Who knows what goes in Japanese hot dogs?)  Unhappily, our budget only allowed one beer, and let’s just say that the nachos and hot dogs are not the forte of the Japanese.  We should have stuck with any of the other baseball classics.  You know, sushi, edadme, and udon noodles.  And let’s not forget the roaming tea vendor – our friend Danielle would be pleased.

Stomachs full, we turned our full attention to the game.  Okay, we turned most of our attention to people watching, and partial attention to the game.  There were Carp fans of all sizes, and many extended families taking it all in.  The most fascinating part of the game was not the baseball; that was pretty much exactly like American baseball – long and drawn out with very few big plays, nine innings, a star player, and fair-ups.  And a mobile Cup-of-Noodles for entertainment and corporate advertising between innings instead of the Mrs. T’s pierogie races.  And, of course, a theme song played over and over with shots of the crowd on the jumble-tron.  (The Carp theme song is the Inspector Gadget theme, in case you were wondering).

No, the most fascinating part of the game was the rapt attention the fans kept during all nine innings and their dogged persistence in repeating the same two or three chants over and over and over.  Maybe it was because we didn’t know what they were saying, but it was amazing how many times the Carp fans repeated the same chants during the course of the game.  When the Carp are at bat, the drum players in outfield cue the beat, and the Carp fans dutifully follow, chanting what I imagined was something like “Let’s Go Carp” and hitting two sticks together.

They didn’t let up the whole time the Carp were at bat.  When the other team was up, it was their turn.  The chants never died down, never were half-hearted, never sagged.  Their tireless dedication was fascinating.  And it paid off in a 1-0 shut-out for the Carp, with the pitcher pitching a complete game.

One Response to “Take Us Out to the Carp Game”

1. danielle says:

   November 30, 2010 at 9:58 am

   I just logged in finally to read these posts….. I’ve been behind (sorry amy!).

   I wonder if the Pirates would let me come in and serve tea during the games…. I wonder how many people would buy tea instead of beer 🙂

   When you guys get home, right in time for the season opener, we’re going!