[ARETE] Sport and Society - Ichiro

[richard crepeau]

Sport and Society for Arete
July 26, 2025

Ichiro Suzuki was born October 23, 1973, in Nishi Kasugai-gun, Japan; attended Aikoudai Meidin High School in Nagoya, Japan where he played baseball. On Sunday, Ichiro will be making history when he is inducted into the Baseball Hall of Fame in Cooperstown, New York.
No Japanese player is in the Baseball Hall of Fame. Ichiro is the first, but he will not be the last, and he is a major reason why many more will follow. There are eleven Japanese players in MLB today, but over 70 have played in the majors since Ichiro.
Matt Keough, who played five years in Japan, saw Ichiro pitch when Ichiro was a freshman in high school. He was pitching in a major tournament in front of 50,000 fans and a national TV audience. He was throwing in the mid-90s, and Keough believes Ichiro could  have been a great pitcher. Instead, he devoted his baseball life, indeed his entire life, to hitting.
When Ichiro came to the Seattle Mariners in 2001, there were more than a few baseball people who were skeptical, despite Ichiro’s records in the Japanese Pacific League. There he had been three-time Most Valuable Player, ten-time batting champion, held the single season hits record at 210, and was the first player to have two hundred hits in a season. His first batting title came at age twenty in his first year in the league. He had great speed, a high baseball IQ, played excellent defense, and had an arm like a cannon. He could throw on a line from deep right field to third base. Runners learned quickly not to challenge that arm. He won a gold glove every year he was in the league.
About a week ago there was a great buzz about a throw by Ronald Acuna of the Braves from the right field corner to third. The video was all over social media and on every baseball highlight package on local and national TV. It was a great throw, but it was not on a line. Ichiro’s throws were never much above the average height of an infielder, no matter the distance of the throw.
As a major league player, Ichiro was never a disappointment, and the skeptics quickly melted away. In his first year in Seattle, he led the league in hits, stolen bases, and batting average. He played in 157 of the Mariners 162 games and led the league in plate appearances and at bats. The Rookie of the Year and Most Valuable Player awards were the frosting on the cake. His second MVP came in 2007.
He led the league in hits six more times topping out with 262 hits in 2004, the year of his second batting title. He had 3,089 career hits, 4,394 if you add in post-season and Japan Pacific League hits, and averaged 225 hits in his first nine seasons in the majors. He won three Silver Sluggers and ten Gold Gloves in his first ten years in Seattle.
The numbers are more than a bit impressive, but it is not the numbers that I remember most about Ichiro. I had the good fortune to see him play in person several times and, of course, innumerable times on television. Two things stand out in my mind.
First was his defense, especially his cannon-like arm which struck me as comparable to Roberto Clemente. Second was his  hitting that had two major elements, the swing and his speed. With his batting stance and swing, he was able to begin to leave the batter’s box while he still had his bat on the ball. Coupled with his speed, this put enormous pressure on the infielders.
One year when teaching a course on the History and Literature of Baseball, we had our students do a project of their choice. One of them did a slow-motion video breakdown of Ichiro’s swing. It was revealing. Ichiro did literally hit as he was leaving the batter’s box, seemingly an impossibly feat. It was something that could only be fully appreciated by watching it over and over again.
The other aspect of his hitting was his ability to “hit it where they ain’t,” as Wee Willie Keeler once advised. He could visually find the gap, then direct the ball to that gap with his bat. The comparisons for me are two: first is Luis Arraez, who now practices his magic in San Diego; the other was Rod Carew, who I had the good fortune to see multiple times and watch him go through his batting practice routine of hitting all areas across the outfield from line to line, left to right. He had a magic wand and watching him hit was a thing of beauty.
Another interesting thing about Ichiro’s hitting is the fact that he wasn’t really interested in home runs, just hits. This drove some to distraction. One of his teammates remembers that Seattle manager Lou Pinella was one of those who found the lack of power a bit of an irritation. One day at the end of batting practice, having grown tired of the home run critics, Ichiro picked up his bat, walked over to the batting cage, called for a pitch, and drilled it into the seats.
Ichiro had a lot of quirks, especially surrounding his bats and his conditioning routines. He kept his bats in sleeves when they were not in use. He never slammed them into the ground or blamed them for his hitting problems. He treated the tools of his trade with care, as was true of his gloves as well.
As to his conditioning routines, he did them every day, game day or not. He had a special device designed for his particular needs and routines that travelled with him. Teammates who tried his conditioning regime were overwhelmed by it and did not come back for more.
Finally, a word of his larger historical significance is needed. Ichiro opened the door to all those players who have come to the majors over the past 25 years. He began the process of erasing the biases that reached back into the 19th century and were further strengthened by the events of World War II. Also, the stereotypes that Americans carried with them about the Far East and its people were negated. It is remarkable that when comparing the views of the pre-Ichiro skeptics, how far back in history they go, and not just in baseball.
Clearly, the cultural divide has closed and Ichiro’s most important contribution, beyond the skills of the game, is to that closing. This might be the most significant thing about the events in Cooperstown on Sunday, July 27.
On Sport and Society this is Dick Crepeau reminding you that you don’t have to be a good sport to be a bad loser.

Copyright 2025 by Richard C. Crepeau


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