Crazy Times at the Ol’ Ball Game

Seeing baseball in Japan and South Korea was the spark this diehard fan needed to get excited about the Reds’ remaining two months.
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I like baseball. A lot. It’s a pretty great sport that I’ve enjoyed writing about for more than a decade here at Cincinnati Magazine as well as on my social media feeds. Over the years, I’ve had more fun times at the ol’ ball game than I can count. I don’t think I’ve ever had a bad time at a baseball game, in fact—if you exclude the games back in high school when I tried to play the sport. That was a bad time for everyone involved.

Over the last couple of weeks, however, I attended two professional baseball games in which—and I mean this literally—every single fan in each stadium had way more fun than I’ve ever had at a game. I’m still in shock.

I just returned from an epic family trip to Japan and South Korea. My son and I, given what baseball means to us, weren’t going to miss the opportunity to see games in both countries. And, boy, we were not disappointed.

The first game was at Tokyo’s Meiju Jingu Stadium, featuring the home-standing Yakult Swallows vs. the Chunichi Dragons. It started raining about six hours before the game, so we figured the game would be postponed. MLB regularly cancels games even on sunny days if the radar looks bad, right? We headed over to the game anyway, figuring we would at least get an opportunity to see the stadium before it was rained out.

Nope, they started the game on time and played in a driving rain that didn’t stop until the bottom of the eighth inning. Fans showed up in droves wearing ponchos emblazoned with the home team’s logo and equipped with mini umbrellas that they twirled in unison at every key moment in the game. Each player had his own song, and fans sang along joyfully in a series of moments of communal joy. It was mesmerizing.

But it was nothing like the exuberance we experienced in South Korea at Seoul’s Jamsil Stadium, where we watched the Doosan Bears take on the Kiwoom Heroes. Our seats were on the home side, among Doosan’s dedicated supporters, and it was something akin to a pop concert. A stage had been constructed down the first base line, with cheerleaders guiding fans—men and women of all ages—in chants and songs and dances. The precision from the fan base, powered by drums, rivaled any choreographed act. The atmosphere was electric, with every home run and strikeout intensifying the already palpable energy.

Cheerleaders help get fans hyped at games in South Korea.

Photograph by Chad Dotson

On the other side of the stadium, visiting fans and cheerleaders were singing their own songs and celebrating the Kiwoom successes. The game on the field was similar to the product you’d see in the U.S., but it was different in the stands; there was never a moment when fans weren’t singing and chanting and cheering during the action.

Side note: I’m happy to provide some unpaid scouting services to the Cincinnati Reds. The club needs to do everything they can to sign Yakult’s Munetaka Murakami to a contract before next season. He’s a triple crown winner, 24 years old, and my son tells me he mashes the baseball in his video game. That’s all I need to hear. Go sign him and install him at third base.

Another option I want to put on Cincinnati’s radar is a 25-year-old Kiwoom second baseman with pop, Kim Hye-seong. He batted cleanup and drilled a homer in the game I attended, and he’s currently hitting at a .334/.398/.506 clip. Go sign both these guys, Nick Krall, please and thank you. Both will be available to MLB clubs this winter.

Anyway, I’ve had a lot of fun at both Great American Ball Park and Riverfront Stadium over the years. Opening Days, Clinchmas, a couple of playoff games, watching Elly De La Cruz, Todd Frazier’s home run derby extravaganza … all were fun! Again, I’ve never had a bad time at a Reds game. But only once in more than three decades of going to Reds games have I ever experienced anything, as a fan, remotely similar to what I saw in the last couple of weeks in Tokyo and Seoul.

That was in 2010, game three of the National League Division Series, when the Reds were shut out by the Phillies to close out a series sweep and knock the Redlegs out of the playoffs. The result of that game wasn’t a highlight in Reds history, but it was Cincinnati’s first home playoff game in 15 years. Fans were delirious the entire night, waving their rally towels and celebrating a young club who unexpectedly won a division title. My brother Nate and I were swept up in it. It was a joyful experience.

And yet the fan experience that night was roughly similar to what I saw in two meaningless mid-summer games between mediocre teams in Japan and South Korea. In both countries, baseball transcends mere spectatorship; it’s a participatory event. Fans don’t just watch, they perform. It reminded me more of the gameday atmosphere at FC Cincinnati matches than anything I’ve seen down by the river.

“Beer here!” even in the rain in Tokyo.

Photograph by Chad Dotson

What struck me most was the seamless integration of tradition and modernity. In Seoul and Tokyo, the game is both a nod to baseball’s storied past and a forward-looking spectacle. It’s a social event as much as a sporting one, where families and friends gather not just to see a game but to participate in a communal festival that happens to have baseball at its center.

In Cincinnati, we get a similar experience only at soccer or football games or crosstown shootouts. We don’t get that same vibe at GABP unless it’s a playoff game, and I don’t have to remind you that the Redlegs only rarely play in the postseason.

Given the fact that, as I predicted, it doesn’t appear likely that the Reds will make much effort to improve the club at the trade deadline for the second consecutive season (the deadline is 6 p.m. today), we may not have much to cheer about in the immediate future. But after what I experienced in Asia, I’m going to be chasing that high in the coming years. Maybe I just need to go to more FCC games. But, no, what I really need is some Reds playoff baseball. I want to feel what I felt in those stadiums on the other side of the globe.

I’m not optimistic, I confess. Reds management isn’t serious about competing and probably won’t be while the Castellinis are in charge. But, hey, I love this sport and I love this franchise. And I just want to have fun at the ballpark again, rooting for this dumb team.

Once again, hope springs eternal in my mind.

Chad Dotson helms Reds coverage at Cincinnati Magazine and hosts a long-running Reds podcast, The Riverfront. His newsletter about Cincinnati sports can be found at chaddotson.com. He’s @dotsonc on Twitter.

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