The planning started back in December, four months before my trip was even scheduled to start…  Well, scratch that, it started even months before that when I was ready to talk to my wife about it.  Amy has always been amazingly supportive of my travel, enough so that I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve shaken my head at friends asking “How?!”  And the answer to that is, I have no idea.  I like to joke that I’m just lucky, but we’ve always had a good balance.  She likes baseball, but she doesn’t love baseball like I do, and while I’ve offered for her to come with me a ton of times, I’ve also understood when she didn’t want to go to Cleveland.  (After all, Ichiro didn’t want to go to Cleveland either.  See how I’ve kept this topical?)

I’d broached the trip months earlier.  I can’t remember what day, or where, exactly, but I’d bet it was over a nice dinner with a drink in her hand.  (Or at that point, probably two.)  Japan wasn’t going to be just ‘any trip’, it was going to be my longest trip to date, and the longest vacation I’d ever taken in my life.  Ever.  I’d planted the seed the year before but hit some heavy resistance at two words:  Three weeks.  But here we were in 2024, talking about Japan again, but this time those two words didn’t phase her the same way.  Things changed in 2024.  I turned 50 – Or as I referred to it frequently that year, ‘Fucking 50’ – and both of our kids were off to college.  In the last 12 months our dog and cat had both died, and the house was inexplicably quiet.  My biggest concern wasn’t the three weeks away, it was the three weeks of Amy being alone in an empty house.

Things have changed a lot in our relationship over the last few years.  We’ve become more open and just talk a lot more.  Our marriage and communication has always been great, but something about this next phase of our lives just changed.  Going to Japan now wasn’t just about baseball.  It was about adventure and doing something now versus waiting until I was ‘old’.  I’m not a religious person, so time passing hits a little differently.  I wanted to go to Japan now, when I could enjoy it, and while financially it might not be the best time, emotionally it was.  And our conversation went something like that, as Amy listened thoughtfully before telling me to do it.  I offered to have her meet me there, and while Japan wasn’t even in the Top 10 of her travel bucket list, she said yes to that too.

It’s December 2024, and I’m planning for April.  Major League Baseball announced that Opening Day would be the World Champion Los Angeles Dodgers vs the Chicago Cubs at the Tokyo Dome.  The mayhem around tickets was real, but all I was waiting for was the NPB (Nippon Professional Baseball) schedule.  I knew that if I was going to experience baseball in Japan that I wanted it to be Japanese baseball, not American baseball in Japan.  Once NPB schedules hit at the end of November I could start my planning in earnest, well, if I could read the schedule. 

There’s really no way to describe the experience of planning a trip to Japan, and especially a baseball trip to Japan, other than “a lot of fucking work”.  Do they have English sites for the NPB?  Yes.  But they aren’t current.  Are schedules available online?  Yes.  Well, some of them.  Then all of them.  But not in English.  The translation function is great, except that they don’t tell you which team is home vs away (the home team is listed first) and half of the translated names make adjacent-sense at best.  ‘China and Japan’, that’s the Chunichi Dragons.  Optimism?  That’s the Rakuten Golden Eagles.  Why?  I have no idea.  And tickets?  I could write an entire post on just that, and may at some point, but for now just know that buying baseball tickets in the US is an unbelievable undertaking.  Pack your patience and expect staggered on sale dates across the league, sign up for every fan club you can for access, and expect to be frustrated with using Google translate across multiple sites as you figure out your name in Kana and Kanji, knowing which Prefecture you’re staying in, and more.  But figure it out, because nearly every game I went to was packed, and in the case of the Hanshin Tigers, their entire few months block of games sells out in less than a day.  Every single game.  The popularity of baseball in Japan cannot be overstated, and the lack of reliable resale outlets makes getting tickets ahead of time that much more important.

So what do you do when you have no idea when tickets go on sale, or if you’ll be able to get tickets at all?  You have faith and start mapping, and that’s what I started doing in December.  For me it all started with my friends at JapanBall.  Their map of all 12 parks was invaluable to starting my game grids, and the look at their past itineraries made it a lot easier to understand the best flow for games.  I poured over the schedules for the first 3 weeks in April to figure out the most efficient schedule possible.  I’m sure there are programs to do it, but I do it with a few pieces of paper and a pen, it’s more fun.  I mapped out the games and locations across the NPB then started looking at ideas of what to do in and around the area, breaking the trip out into 2 very specific segments.  Segment 1 – Two weeks solo.  Baseball all day, every day, except for Mondays when the NPB doesn’t play.  (But I did luck into a college game.)  Segment 2 – Amy-time with fewer games and more non-baseball activities.

The planning took weeks to dial in.  It wasn’t just mapping the games, it was mapping locations and directions and airports and train stations.  Which (non-baseball) parks should I see?  Where should I stay?  What are the popular foods by location?  What should I do?  I knew that if I was going to spend 3 weeks in Japan, that I was going to do it right!  I was just shocked how fast time flew.  It felt like I blinked in December and suddenly I was at Spring Training in Arizona buying tickets, and the next thing I knew, it was March 31^st.

March 31^st – Day One

I went back and forth on which flight to take out of Seattle.  Both ANA (Air Nippon Airlines) and JapanAir fly direct from Seattle, but to different airports.  I ended up flying JapanAir because I liked the look of their Premium Economy more than ANA, and I knew that flying into Narita vs Haneda airport would put me closer to ZoZo Marine Stadium, home of the Chiba Lotte Marines, for my first game.  I’d been in Vegas the last few days, so I spent the night before at a hotel next to the airport so I could just pop across the street the next morning.  My flight wasn’t until 1:30pm, but I was at the airport at 10am.  I wasn’t leaving anything to chance.  Every day was planned, and packed, with activity. 

I landed to pouring rain out the window of the plane and a growing dread that the first game could be rained out.  I’d been checking the weather app on the flight, as well as the NPB site on constant refresh.  As of now, everything was still on schedule for the Marines.  It was less than 30 minutes through immigration, which was shocking.  I was a little over 2hrs away from gametime and out the door to catch a taxi, wearing a stuffed backpack and pulling a loaded carry-on behind me.  I could catch the train from the airport or even a bus, but time was of the essence and I’d literally just stepped off the flight, so it made more sense to take a taxi.  (Even though it would be considerably more expensive.)  I walked through a steady rain to the taxi stands and was on the way, all the while looking out at the looming gray.

Traffic.  It took close to an hour to get to my hotel from the airport, and by the time we got there, the game had already been cancelled because of rain.  I’d been in Japan for less than 3 hours and already experienced my first rainout.  It would have been easy to be outwardly frustrated, and believe me I was frustrated, but nothing was going to change the weather, so I just shrugged and walked to the ballpark anyway.  I figured I’d gone all this way, why shouldn’t I pop down and try to take a peek?  I bought an umbrella from the gift shop – my first of many umbrellas – and started walking. 

April 2^nd – Day Two

“But wait, Doug.  What happened to April 1^st?”  Welcome to International Travel!  I suppose it’s only fitting that I left on the 31^st then landed to a rainout on April Fools Day.  I knew I was safe either way today though, because the Nippon Ham Fighters play in a ballpark with a retractable roof!  First things first though, I had to get to Sapporo, which is a 9-hour train ride, or a much easier hour and a half long flight. 

One of the most important parts of planning games and locations was distance and timing.  I chose to attack the most extreme distance parks first by going from Chiba to Sapporo, down to Sendai, then all the way down to Fukuoka, before spending the rest of my trip on trains.  When I posted my travel plans on Reddit the few comments I had were “I hate this plan,” “You’ll never be able to do this,” and “Have you ever been to Japan?”  But to me it made perfect sense.  By getting the 3 largest outlier parks out of the way, I’d have better flexibility during the rest of my trip to flex if I’d needed it.  As it was, I had 3 flex games on my itinerary, which lucky enough, included the Chiba Lotte Marines, where I’d been rained out the night before.

Catching a bus to the airport is something I’d never do in the US, but I didn’t hesitate in Japan.  I’d left plenty of time to get there, hopping on the bus before the one I actually needed.  My schedule was packed so tight that I couldn’t risk missing my flight.  I’d rather get to the airport 3hrs early and know I’m there versus stress I wouldn’t make it on time.  The only thing I couldn’t control was whether flights left on time, or at all, but it was thankfully an issue I didn’t run into during my time there.  No one said a word on the bus, and it was glorious.  The drive took over an hour, past factories and gray in the ever-present rain.

I was staying at the airport after tonight’s game, which worked out great for dropping my bags before I started walking.  I left the Sapporo Station and did what I like doing most.  Just walking.  No plan, no destination, just a new city.  I knew I was hungry, but I also knew I’d find something to eat at some point.  My biggest problem is every restaurant I walk by I think “Maybe this one… after I walk by one more,” and the next thing you know I’ve been walking around for 1-2 hours and I’m still hungry.

Es Con Field Hokkaido is the first covered field I’ve been in where I didn’t notice the roof.  I’m not sure if it’s the lights, the color of it, or the darkness outside, but it felt more outside than the ever-present cover on my local Mariners’ T-Mobile Park.  There were long lines for everything.  I’ve never seen lines like this for team stores, and it was the same thing in the concourses for food.  Long lines for every local flavor you can think of, as well as a few US-style dishes too if you need a hot dog.  (Which btw, I did that night.  But it was a pizza dog, and I paired it up with a few local sweet treats too!)

This was my first full experience with Japanese baseball.  I’d watched Japan win two World Baseball Classic championships both at Dodger Stadium and in Miami, but this was my first game in their home country, with home teams and home fans.  From a noise standpoint, it was certainly one of the louder games I’ve been to, at least in the regular season.  Fans were cheering or singing after every pitch in a well-orchestrated show for each batter, the home and away teams alternating during each series of at bats.  On the surface it’s easy to see Japanese baseball and think that the passion for their teams, their players, and the sport of baseball are unmatched, but as my trip continued, I realized just how locked in the fans were.  How much of their joy and love of the game is unfettered versus carefully choreographed?  Are they escaping the rigid structure of their daily work lives while just transitioning to another activity with expectations and rules?  It’s an interesting debate to be sure, but regardless the experience was fantastic, and the week was just starting!

The crowd was a sea of motion.  Everyone is constantly clapping, and if they aren’t clapping, they’re waving some kind of swag.  There is zero doubt that Japan is a consumerist society.  The lines at the team store weren’t for shirts or sweatshirts, they were in line for player signs and towels or banners.  Most of the team’s merchandise was celebrating individual players instead of the team, which seems like a missed opportunity in the US.  The stadium would fill with ‘oohs’ and ‘ahs’ after every piece of contact, including clear pop fouls out of play.  I wondered if the cheers were signs of respect, acknowledging the player’s power, even if it didn’t net a base hit.  The Hero’s Parade at the end of the game was surreal too; a mini press conference on the field that a huge majority of fans stay for.  After the interview, the two players were paraded around the outfield walls while fans cheered like their team had just won the World Series.  Oh, and by the way, this was their 5^th game of the season.  It was in a word… Odd.

It was a brisk walk back to the train station which is roughly a mile away.  Be sure to watch the train schedules on later games for stadiums that are outside the city.  Don’t assume that they’re on the same schedule on the way out as they were on the way in.  (Because in the case of Hokkaido, it is not!)  I was back at the hotel in roughly an hour with an early flight to Sendai the next morning.  I’d stayed at the airport hotel to streamline my travel for the next day, and with a 7:50am flight, I knew I’d need to get there early and I didn’t want to mess with a morning train too. 

April 3^rd – Day Three

It’s day three, and I’m still kicking!  I was worried I’d get crushed by jetlag, but my Vegas strategy turned out to be sounder than I expected!  My 5am wakeup was smooth, and I was downstairs and at the security gates just before 6am for my 7:50am flight.  The empty gates.  Oh, and they were closed too. 

Japan’s airports are unlike airports in the US.  The process through security is so quick that I could have been to any airport with an hour lead time and still been good to go.  Most planes load less than half an hour before takeoff (compared to the close to an hour in the US,) and they load fast.  The efficiency is great!  But be prepared at landing, because if you aren’t ready to go with your stuff, you’ll be waiting to merge.  For as orderly and structured as Japan is, the offboard process is Helter skelter.  I walked off the plane to a wet tarmac and the threat of more rain.  For the love of God, please stop raining.

I dropped my bags off at the Hotel Grand Bach before hitting the streets for another day on foot.  I’d paid to check in early the day before but realized really quickly that Japan hotels are awesome about holding your bags.  You’ll find that nearly every hotel will charge you to check in early, but they’ll happily store your bags for free.

Today’s game at Rakuten is a perfect example of scheduling for contingencies.  When I’d mapped out the plan for the trip, I’d assumed most games would be at night, but Rakuten was one of the games that threw me a curveball.  I’d never guessed that they’d schedule a Thursday game for 1pm, so I ended up eating my original Sapporo to Sendai flight to make the game.  It ended up costing me an extra $70, but at least I was able to schedule an earlier flight that would get me there in time.

The skies were gray, and rain was in the forecast.  I’d already been rained out in Chiba and likely would have been rained out in Hokkaido if they didn’t have a roof.  I kept my fingers crossed to keep the rain away, but sadly a steady downpour started up just minutes before they opened the gates.  Would they even open the gates?  I could envision a second rainout looming as I was surrounded by a mass of people with open umbrellas.  How many rainouts do NPB teams have a year?  Enough that they have a built-in cushion at the end of the year for make-up dates. 

The first thing that catches my eye walking out to the field is the large Ferris wheel in left field.  It’s not the first Ferris wheel I’ve seen at a ballpark.  The infield is a dark chocolate brown.  The park’s concessions are 90% food trucks along the concourses, and their selection and variety is pretty great!  I grabbed a pirokichi that was filled with ground beef and pork, along with a kibou apple pie, both of which I enjoyed during a steady 9-inning downpour.  I have no idea how the game wasn’t cancelled, but I’m not complaining since I didn’t have a contingency game plan for this one.  I saw my first ‘Lucky 7’, which is Japan’s answer to the 7^th inning stretch.  Both teams get their half of the inning and fans inflate team-colored balloons that they sendoff into the sky at the end of their team’s song.  I loved the ‘Lucky 7’ and was disappointed when not every team did balloons.  I made the long walk back, again in the rain, passing by a few shrines as well as a cemetery.

I didn’t pack for rain, and while I’d packed a ¼-zip, I wasn’t prepared for temperatures to be in the low 50’s either.  The early game meant I had an entirely open evening, which I started in downtown Sendai looking for an extra sweatshirt.  I walked past rows on rows of vending machines lit up along the streets or in random parking lots, reflecting off the raindrops.  Vending machines are absolutely everywhere in Japan.  In downtown Sendai there are mostly food and drinks, but in Shibuya, for example, they might be filled with small toys or other knick knacks.  After striking out (groan) on clothes, there were plenty of places to eat downtown.  (This may shock you, but clothing stores in Japan aren’t generally stocked for guys that are 6 feet tall and over, so the sweatshirts or thermal undershirts were generally too short in the sleeves or missing my size.)  I was excited to keep trying new things, so I focused on local-looking restaurants.  You might be thinking, Doug, they’re all local, you’re in Japan.  But what I mean is local looking; I’m looking for smaller hole-in-the-wall kinds of restaurants, long rectangular shops with bar seating, preferably full.  I also look for white people.  If there are too many people that look like ‘me’, then it’s not local enough!  I found a solid spot where I ate sauteed liver.  It’s been years since I’ve had liver, and I remember it being about the worst thing ever.  Did I love liver in Japan?  No, not really.  But I’m still glad I ate it.

April 4^th

It’s my last flight of the trip and I’m on my way to Fukuoka and the Softbank Hawks.  It’s also another quiet morning, which is great because it gives me a chance to reflect and center on the day.  The quiet mornings are great, but at the same time the days can be a little isolating too.  I’m only four days in and no one has said “Hi” or even engaged with me.  I learned about 10 basic phrases – Please, thank you, good morning, excuse me, etc – But no one on the street or at a game has given me even a simple smile, outside of a kid that stared at me on the train until I waved at him.  I didn’t expect the country to roll out the red carpet or anything, I’m not that arrogant.  But I am surprised at just how cold the country can be.  Maybe it’s our current political environment in the US, or maybe it’s just the culture, but it’s been an adjustment.  It’s also been completely opposite of my time in the Dominican Republic and a culture that was so welcoming.  On the flip side, I’ve been over-the-top polite to everyone, and it’s exhausting.  It’s not being polite, I’d like to think I’m polite already, but the culture can be so saccharine and over the top.

I ran into my first Japanese-style toilet at the airport, wait, not literally ran, just so we’re clear.  If you ever open a stall and see one, just check another stall, there’s likely a Western-style toilet in there somewhere too.  I also found the coolest looking snacks ever!  They were clearly kid’s snacks with a fun cartoon octopus hitting a baseball.  What were they?  Fruit snacks?  Cheesy puffs?  Nope.  They were actual octopus snacks.  (I guess that’s why they were in the refrigerator section.)  I wasn’t feeling that adventurous yes, but I did grab a bun with beef tongue in it, since beef tongue is a specialty in Sendai.  It was chewy and I’ve come to realize that I just don’t like the texture of the clammy, sweaty buns, regardless of what kind of meat they have in them.  The bun wasn’t going to be enough, so I followed it up with a yellow-tail rice ball, then washed it down with a delicious cider.  Whoops, I guess that one had alcohol in it. 

The brown-gold Fukuoka (Mizuhu PayPay) Dome reflected the sun as we landed on a beautiful, sunny day.  (Because naturally, tonight’s game is in a dome.)  I dropped my luggage off at the hotel before grabbing my first McDonalds of the trip.  Why McDonalds?  I was starving.  Plus, I’d always heard how amazing McDonalds were in Japan (along with 7-Elevens), but it was ultimately ‘just’ McDonalds.  The strawberry-crème pie to celebrate the cherry blossoms was tasty though. 

The Fukuoka Dome is next door to a complex filled with restaurants as well as the Sadahara Oh Museum.  It was one of the few baseball-centric spots I didn’t hit.  They also had Japan’s only MLB Café (and as far as I can tell, the only one in the world).  I peeked into an incredibly sad-looking sports bar that was streaming MLB games digitally, complete with the watermark from the service they were piggybacking off of.  They didn’t have a single MLB Café t-shirt, instead opting for Ohtani Angels jerseys and some leftover swag from the Japan Series the few weeks earlier.  It’s no wonder the one at the Tokyo Dome closed a few years earlier, I’m just surprised that this one is still open.

The flowers were in full bloom outside the stadium and the line for Fan Club members stretched an easy quarter mile or more.  I traded in my ticket voucher at a ticket counter after asking 2 different people for help on where to go.  I mentioned it earlier, but the difficulty in getting baseball tickets in Japan must be intentional.  It’s the same thing for the bars and restaurants that don’t allow foreigners.  While frustrating, I also get it.  There are plenty of assholes I wouldn’t want in my restaurant if I owned one either.

It was a chicken kind of night in Fukuoka.  I went with fried chicken and chicken meatballs, but skipped the chicken wings.  (I did find it hilarious that the ends were still on their wings though.)  The fruit drink hit the spot, and I couldn’t pass up the small ice cream.  (It’s clear a few days in that the Japanese love their sweets.)

April 5^th

I’m five days into my trip and this is the first day I’m not at an airport.  I’ve been on a handful of local trains during the week so far, but today was my first Shinkansen.  I’d read a few posts that talked about leaving plenty of time to find your stations in the different cities, but overall (outside of Nagoya), Japan was pretty easy to navigate.  It could be easy to be overwhelmed depending on the station, but at the end of the day, look for two things.  What is the color of your train and the time?  Find your color – because not every train is run by the same company – then find your time.  Most of the platform signs are in Japanese, but if you’re in the right zone, look for your time to match it up to your platform.

I arrive in Hiroshima just after 10am.  The game starts at 2pm, which means I have a few hours to tour the area.  There are a ton of hotels right off the station, so it would have only taken me a few minutes to drop my bags and walk to the park, but I’d already shifted my day.  I’m booked for a roughly 4 hour Shinkansen to Tokyo in the morning, but between the earlier start time here and the early start time again tomorrow, it made more sense to go to Tokyo tonight.  While it meant that I’d be eating a night’s hotel (since I had reservations I couldn’t cancel), I’d be in Tokyo the night before, which would be way more relaxing than stressing it in the morning.  So instead of checking into my hotel, I found a locker to store my luggage in at the station and hit the road on foot.

I’d seen the same thing the day before at Rakuten.  It took two people to move some stanchions while another man supervised them.  Once he was done, they inspected it, then moved onto the next one.  The redundancy and oversight in the country is wild.  They’re overstaffed everywhere.  My first hotel in Japan the few nights earlier had 10 people working in the lobby.  Their job?  Pretty much just to bow while a few watched on.  Weird.

The cherry blossoms were in full bloom in Hiroshima.  Seeing the open blossoms shielding the atomic bomb dome was a bit surreal.  One of the most destructive acts in human history was surrounded by beautiful flowers.  It’s wild that at one point the Hiroshima Carp played across the street from the dome, an ever-present reminder, before moving to Mazda Zoom Zoom Park.

It was a beautiful day for baseball in Hiroshima and the perfect 180 from Rakuten’s rain.  They opened the doors over 2 hours before gametime, even though they don’t allow fans in the seating bowl until later.  Fans still fill the concourses, buying food and souvenirs, before sitting on back stairways or anywhere they can find shade.  There’s a gym in far-right field that overlooks the park, which makes it one of the very few ways you might see me on a treadmill.  The oendan were loud, but they’re in the upper deck in Mazda Zoom Zoom, which isn’t quite as fun as when they’re in the outfield.  I enjoyed a beef bowl, a lemonade made with sparkling water, which made it crisp, and a sundae.  After the game I was back to the station and on the next Shinkansen to Tokyo for tomorrow’s game with the Yomiuri Giants and the Hanshin Tigers, the Yankees/Red Sox of the NPB!

April 6^th

My first Saturday night in Tokyo was a bit of a blur.  Between the Shinkansen up from Hiroshima and finding my way to the Shinjuku Station, I was burnt out.  I’d managed to find the Godzilla head at the Hotel Gracery after trudging my bag behind me through another night of rain.  The bag felt heavier than it had all week and I was a little fried.  Amy texted me in the middle of the night that they were out to breakfast, which had me craving bacon and eggs and some OJ.  (I’ve only been gone 7 days, but the craving was real.)  The problem is bacon and eggs aren’t really a thing in Japan.  Ramen?  No problem, they’re open 24hrs.  But finding some sausage and hashbrowns would be a rare find.  But Japan does have McDonalds, and they have sausage McMuffins with egg, so I’ll take that and an OJ.  Oh, and another strawberry-crème pie.

It’s amazing how fast finding something to eat can turn my day around.  I went from absolutely beat (and a little cranky) to ready to go again with plenty of time before the day’s 1pm start.  It was only a few miles to the ballpark, so I walked not only for exercise but also to just see the different areas of the city.  I knew Amy would be here in another week, so I wanted to have my bearings and save time skipping things I knew she wouldn’t care about.  (Which I found tomorrow.)  I even passed an Alpaca petting zoo on some residential street, and yes, there were real alpacas in there.  (The same way I found dog, cat, and pig petting places both in Tokyo and a few other cities.) 

The Yomiuri Giants banners waved in the slight breeze behind gray skies along the long stairs leading up to the Tokyo Dome.  Shockingly the first thing I saw, outside of the glass encased entrance to the Dome, was the huge Hanshin Tigers souvenir shop.  That’s one of the (many) interesting things about the NPB.  Every park has a souvenir section dedicated to the away team.  You would think that fans would already have their gear if they’d taken the train in from Osaka, but it didn’t stop the long lines from forming out front. 

My game tickets were in deep center field and after a quick tour of the park I had enough time to check out the NPB Hall Of Fame.  Former Seattle Mariner, Ichiro Suzuki, is enshrined there along with countless other NPB past stars.  The museum was a collection of older bats, gloves, and jerseys, along with oddities like Sadaharu Oh’s samurai sword.  The museum was cool, but it’s hard to have the same interest when I don’t speak the language or recognize the majority of the players; I only have so much patience for Google Translate, and it was already getting a workout.  

The bigger surprise was being able to score better tickets to the game.  I was more than happy to sit in the outfield, especially for a premium game on the NPB schedule, but that didn’t stop me from going by the ticket booth to see if they had any available tickets.  They had a few sections open up right before the game, so I was able to get a better seat on the 3^rd baseline.  It cost me, but it was worth it.  I grabbed a TG Curry Bread, a mandarin and sparkling water drink, along with a ‘big egg’ ice cream sandwich in the shape of the Tokyo Dome.  I don’t love the taste – or smell – of curry, but I ate it anyway.  The drink was the highlight.

The Giants/Tigers game was also the first game that someone actually talked to me, and it was completely by accident.  I’d tried to wave one of the vendors over for a Coke but waved at a beer girl by mistake.  Before I could say ‘Whoops’ a beer was making its way down the aisle.  I was able to get my Coke from the girl right behind her, but now I had a Coke and a beer, and I don’t drink beer.  I offered it to the man on my right, who took it after I insisted I wouldn’t be drinking it.  We talked as best as we could between innings.  We’d take turns translating with our phones as we needed, and when he grabbed another drink he offered me one in exchange, which I declined, so he bought me some wasabi snacks instead.  I’m sure the lack of reciprocity was driving him crazy, and my potentially perceived slight wasn’t intentional.  I politely took the snacks with a nod to which he replied, “You no like alcohol?”  Not really, I replied.  “I like alcohol VERY much,” which he punctuated with a hearty laugh.  By games end the Tigers had won, and my new friend (a Tigers fan) hugged me.  His day had been made, and I appreciated the social time after a week of feeling the wrong side of alone.

I finished out the day and evening with a fantastic Tonkatsu Cyazuke from an upper floor overlooking Shinjuku, a stroll past Godzilla, and not one, but two batting cages.  If I had one suggestion for restaurants in Shinjuku, Shibuya, or even Akihabara, it would be to ‘look up’.  It’s easy to see the restaurants and shops at street level and think that’s it, but the buildings stretch upward, and in many cases are filled with more restaurants and shops you don’t see from the street.  My love for Godzilla Minus One left me obsessed with the Godzilla head outside the Hotel Gracery, his atomic breath poised to destroy the city every hour, and I’d make a point of walking by the few times a day just to look back at him.  After dark, when so many locals and tourists are walking the streets, the bars, or visiting the many host clubs, I spent my time swinging a bat (poorly) at the Shinjuku and Oslo Batting Centers.  Where else can you hit a batting cage after midnight?!

April 7^th

Don’t ask me why the NPB doesn’t play on Mondays, but they don’t, so today was a tourist day.  There are worse things after a packed first week in Japan, but that didn’t mean that I didn’t have baseball on the brain anyway.  I’d already planned on walking past the Shinjuku Gyoen National Garden and Meiji Jingu Stadium, but mainly to get my bearings and to vet a few sites before Amy joined me the next week.  As it happened, that turned out to be a great plan.  One of the first things I did was walk past our hotel for the few days next week, and I knew before I even got there that I’d be changing it.  It was a boring, completely normal-looking hotel in a business district.  No bars.  No shops.  No fun.  I breezed through the National Garden but stuck to the perimeter.  I saw enough to know that Amy was going to love it, so I didn’t want to spend too much time there without her.

As luck would have it, I still found some baseball.  While the NPB does not play on Mondays, local college teams do.  I passed the Team Store and practice fields by Meiji Jingu Stadium and what I thought was a game was actually a film crew.  I kept walking – back through the closed gate I had opened to walk through – and headed towards the stadium and the unexpected sounds of a ballgame.  For 1pm in the afternoon on a Monday, it seemed like a pretty good crowd.  The park was littered with business men in suits, with small sections of student oendans.  I was happy to see a game there, because who knows, with my luck the Swallows would be rained out too.  My biggest consternation at that point was if the Swallows were rained out, would I still count the park, even though I’d just seen a college game there?

Akhihabara, the video game Meca of Japan, was next on the list.  I’m not huge into video games, I pretty much play just a few sports games because I don’t have the time, or quite honestly the interest, to get too deep into something bigger.  I did have Professional Baseball Spirits on my list for the PS5 though, which I was able to score at one of the shops.  I spent the next hour (or longer) looking at nearly every menu of every restaurant I passed.  I have the worst time deciding what I want to eat when I’m out of town.  I want to experience the cities I’m in, and to me that means finding the most local spots to eat, where I found my way to Hitsumabushi Minokin.  Hitsumabushi is a chopped and glaze-grilled crispy eel over rice, and it was damn tasty!  Like with the tonkatsu, the server handed me a visual menu with different ways to eat the eel; as it is, with seasoning, and with soup stock.  The strawberry milk pie I had at the train station on my way back to Shinjuku was also absolutely delicious!

April 8^th

The Shibuya scramble crossing may be one of the most overrated tourist attractions in Japan, and the Takeshita Street is a close second.  I had a great burger and onion rings on my walk through Shibuya, but that may have been the highlight.  Takeshita was a noisy cluster of gift shops and sweets, with the random ‘Mipig Café’  (a place to pet pigs) in between.  The street was cramped, but surprisingly slow, or maybe not for a Tuesday.  The Shibuya crossing, a big multi-pronged crosswalk was a sea of tourists holding their phone up so they could take videos to show people that they crossed a street.

Speaking of crossing the street, that’s been a challenge for me all week.  I’m a notorious jaywalker, so the structured rule-following in Japan was a difficult departure for a guy that’s used to crossing the street when and wherever he pleases.

If felt good to get away from Tokyo later that afternoon.  The train to Saitama was quiet after the bustling movement and noise of the city.  I got to the Belluna Dome with enough time to go visit the Seibuen Amusement Park, a train stop or two away from the ballpark.  I’d had the Seibuen Amusement Park on my list for one reason, and one reason only:  Godzilla.  I walked up to the ticket counter to buy my ticket when I saw that Ultraman and Godzilla’s rides had alternating times.  Oh shit.  Wait.  Phew, I’m good.  The Godzilla ride had started an hour earlier, but if the rides had been reversed, I would have missed it for the day.  (Good thing I wasn’t there for Ultraman!) 

The Belluna Dome, home of the Seibu Lions, wasn’t always a dome.  It used to be an open-air park that they put a big cover on, so while it’s called a dome, the perimeter of the ballpark is open air, which meant I was outside… while inside.  This ballpark wasn’t my favorite; it felt more like a soccer stadium than a ballpark.  I enjoyed their ‘Lucky 7’, but didn’t love the bento box I had for dinner.

April 9^th

I walked through the city on my way to the old Nagoya Stadium, where the Chunichi Dragons played before moving to the Vantelin Nagoya Dome.  There were players in there practicing, but I couldn’t find a place to really watch them like I’d hoped.   The weather app expected a cloudy day in the upper 50s, but sadly it was sunny and in the mid-70s.  Why sadly?  Because I was wearing a thick sweatshirt and spent the afternoon walking.  Everywhere.  Sweating.

The air-conditioned mall across from the Nagoya Dome was the perfect place to reset after a frustrating afternoon.  I was hot and a bit overheated, and I was still hungry, the 10-yen bread had worn off hours ago.  I moved between the 3 floors of the mall before choosing fried rice, fried chicken, and a bowl of ramen, which all hit the spot.  (They were an easy choice over the Mentaiko Mayo Shrimp and Egg sub at Subway.  Yikes.) 

The Nagoya Dome was probably my most subdued crowd of the trip, and they didn’t have ballons during the ‘Lucky 7’, which was too bad.  I like the balloons.  There were two enthusiastic older guys next to me that kept wanting high fives after good plays, which I was happy to provide, and my cab driver on the way back was chatty too, wanting to know more about the cities I’d been in so far.  As it happens, he’d been to Seattle before too. 

I was afraid of getting lost again, and I was definitely ‘over’ Nagoya by the time I got back to my hotel.  It didn’t hurt that I had the historic Hanshin Koshien Stadium the next day.

April 10^th

Osaka, and more specifically the Hanshin Koshien Stadium, had had a giant star next to it since I started planning my trip.  The historic ballpark and home of the Hanshin Tigers is also home to the national high school tournament, an event that draws more buzz than even the NPB’s championship series.  I’d seen the ivy covered exterior in pictures, along with the rich dark chocolate brown infield.  I’d wondered if I’d have the same feeling walking up to it that I had at Wrigley, or when walking up to my all-time favorite, Fenway Park.

Getting off the train and walking to my nearby hotel was torture.  Koshien was right there…  It took discipline to power down the path to the hotel, but I wanted to be able to take the park in, and stopping by while dragging a suitcase behind me with one hand while hunched over by the growing weight of my backpack, just wouldn’t be doing the park justice.  I dropped my stuff at the concierge and started my walk back to the park, a journey that seemed to take twice as long as it did the few minutes earlier.

The yellow-brown brick opened up in front of me, the slightly budding ivy vines gripping along the brick like a newborn to his mother, along with an array of copper sculpted art along the wall.  Seeing it in person made me happy.  It’s hard to describe the feeling I get when walking up to a new ballpark.  It’s a combination of anticipation, mixed with a feeling of ease and peace.  Ballparks are one of the few places on the planet where I can almost ‘relax’, and even when I’m interrupted by work (the perils of being self-employed,) the work doesn’t feel quite as bad when I’m at a ballpark because I know as soon as I’m done, I’m right back where I belong.  Being at a historic park like Koshien was a different level.

The tour was surprisingly dull.  I’m not sure if it was because we were trapped in the concourses looking at where a swimming pool used to be, or if it’s because I don’t speak Japanese.  Regardless, the tour took a quick turn for the better when we stepped out to the field.  The darkest mocha infield was pristine and untouched ahead of the night’s game and like out front, the only thing I wanted to do was just stare.  I was the last one to leave the beauty of the infield, which was covered in the slightest gloom of a clouded afternoon.

The Hanshin Koshien Museum and adjacent batting cage were quick stops, but well done.  I had a little work to catch up on and wanted to change into the fresh Tigers jersey I’d bought on the walk back to the hotel.  I’m not a jersey guy.  The only jerseys I own are from playing at different camps, along with my trip to the Dominican Republic – where I kind of wish I’d bought one of each.  But I knew I’d be buying a Tigers jersey and was happy to find a #37, a relief pitcher for the Tigers named Oyokawa.

Finding your seat can be confusing at a lot of parks in the NPB, and Hanshin Koshien is definitely one of them.  I’d been scouting the sections during our tour and thought I was deep along the left field line, but realized (after some help) that I was closer to 3^rd base, but nearly to the top of the stands.  I didn’t mind being undercover, I could still see the field, but I generally prefer to be closer.  When it comes to Koshien, beggars can’t be choosers.  I’d mentioned earlier, every single game sells out at Koshien, and I would have sat in the bathroom or a storage closet if it had a view.

The rain kept coming and sure enough…  Another rainout.  Between the ballpark tour and my time and innings at the park, I was ‘counting it’ regardless, but it was easier knowing I had another game scheduled the next week with my wife.

April 11^th

The true beauty of Yokohama Stadium isn’t the stadium, it’s the incredible park right outside of it!  A sea of bright red, orange, and yellow tulips; flowers, trees, a small pond, and fountain.  Leave plenty of time to just take in the park, it was a great place to sit and reflect before stepping inside to another fucking rainout.

April 12^th

The day was a complete 180 from two weeks earlier.  A glorious sunny and warm afternoon game was just what I needed!  My tickets weren’t as good as the first game, but they were in the cheering section for the Marines, so that would be fun!  The ‘leader’ of the oendan was a kid that was maybe 30 years old.  He didn’t quite have it down yet, an odd and at times eerie silence and calm between each cheer like they didn’t know what to do next.  I’d found a fun blue drink, that funny enough was jello and not a drink, and a steak box with onion rings that both hit the spot. 

This was the second time this week something felt a little ‘off’ in Japan, and the second time I legitimately wondered how prevalent racism is in Japan.  Polanco is up to bat and on the jumbo screen is his nickname “El Coffee”.  Um, what?  Calling a very dark-skinned Dominican “coffee” – assumably because he’s black (and Dominican) – seems a little off, and it wasn’t the first time.  Earlier in the week another black Latin player was up to bat and they flashed to the crowd holding up bananas… and his mascot was a gorilla.  Between that and the general coldness I’d felt much of the last week, it made an impression.  I spent the later parts of the game roaming different sections of the park both chasing shade in the spring sun and different views of the park. 

The clustered mass of fans leaving the game created a steady stream of people back to the train station for my ride back to Shinjuku.  I’d changed my hotel earlier during the week so that Amy could see more culture – or at least tourist culture – when she got to the city.

Every inch of the bar from floor to ceiling and everywhere in between was covered in baseball.  Baseball gear, pictures, autographs, and comics.  Literally everything.  In the corner closest to the main door, which are a few steps downstairs from the street, was a library of books and stacks of video tapes.  The NPB games were over for the day, but that didn’t stop the owner from putting in videos of old high school championships at Koshien.  It was enthralling to be there, and after the relatively cold shoulder I’d had for the majority of my trip, I wasn’t expecting the welcome I’d receive, and what would turn out to be one of my favorite moments of my three weeks in Japan.

Stepping into Abusan was like stepping into a baseball time capsule.  There were clusters of mostly floor level tables where two mixed groups of men and women sat seated on the floor.  The bar had clearly been around for years, and years, and it showed, but in way that added to its charm.  The couple at the table closest to me were both from the US, and joked out loud “Hey, another American!”  (They were from Texas.)  One of the staff came up to me with a smile, pointing down to what I thought were the shoes on the floor.  I started taking them off, but she quickly waived me off that she was pointing at the table to my left.  We both laughed before I sat down.  I’m wearing a Seattle Mariners 1/4 zip sweatshirt – as I did much of the week since a lot of it was cold, damn cold – and she was one of the few people to point it out.  “Mariners!”  I nodded with a smile, then followed up by saying that I don’t play or work for them.  With my height and general look, along with traveling solo, I’d wondered if people would think I was a scout or something, but no, no one thought I was important at all.  Haha.

Her name was Mari, and she couldn’t have been friendlier.  She grabbed me a Coke then did her best in solid, but awkward English, to point out a few US players on the wall.  One of them was Nomar Garciaparra, who I’d met back at Dodgers Camp a few years earlier.  I pulled up a picture of me with Nomar at Dodger Stadium, then a picture of Nomar, my daughter Megan, and me on the field.  I explained with a lot of help from Google Translate that Megan was the athlete between us, and showed Mari a few more pictures of the two of us playing at Dodger Stadium and at Fenway Park.  I told her how much I loved playing, that I wasn’t very good, but that being on the field always made me happy.  Mari glowed when talking about playing; she played too, mainly 3^rd base.

I had some fantastic noodles after passing up the opportunity to try Horumon Kara Itame (guts, intestine, and stir-fried pork innards), opting instead to go ‘safe’, while still trying something new.  Mari brought two older men by, one who I assume may have been her dad, and the other, who I assume may be her grandfather.  I do know that the oldest of the two was the owner, Kasuo Ishii.  He came by too, wanting to see more pictures.  Mari’s kindness was palpable, and Ishii was an excellent host.  I told him how much I appreciated his bar and was enjoying my visit to their country.  The table of men and women, who seemingly were hanging out after work, had become more interested too.  By the time the table left they’d had Mari take pictures of their group, then asked me to join them too.  Sure.  As I was leaving, Ishii brought his camera out and asked to take a picture, which we did.  I wanted one with him, as well as one with he and Mari too, to commemorate an amazing experience, and one of my favorites of the trip.  I couldn’t have been more clear that I wasn’t ‘anyone special’, but I think they just really appreciated how much I enjoyed my visit.  I told Mari I would be at the Swallows game with my wife later next week, and she told me to keep an eye out for her, because she’d be there with her family too.

I texted Shane that Abusan was everything he said it was, and more.  To read more about Absusan, check out this write-up on MLB.com too:   https://www.mlb.com/news/abusan-is-an-incredible-baseball-izakaya-in-tokyo?msockid=33f4af971d346f810f42bca41c8e6e23

April 13th

I picked up my wife, Amy, on the 13^th.  I was surprised she’d wanted to join me on the trip, but I was glad she did.  I’d pre-scouted a few of the places on our itinerary to help streamline things a bit, and I’d been on enough trains the last two weeks that made getting around way less stressful.  I knew she’d be tired after an all-day trip and already had dinner lined up, ramen, per her request.  We finished out the first night with dessert and looking out at Godzilla from the lobby windows of our hotel. 

April 14th

April 15-16th

I wasn’t prepared for how pretty Kyoto was.  There were some lingering blossoms, but most of the trees had already started to transition.  We stopped for our first real meal for the day.  I had Okonomiyaki, a weird pancake covered with a sauce I didn’t love and those weird fish flakes that I like even less.  Amy’s noodles were a much safer bet.  We found a random shrine across the street before heading back to relax at our hotel, the Kyoto Granbell Hotel.  We both hit the public bath before dinner, a near scalding-hot pool you sit in after thoroughly washing yourself on a small plastic bench outside the bath.  I’d done one a few days earlier and appreciated how relaxed I felt and wanted Amy to experience it too.  (She liked it enough that she did it the next day too.)  Dinner was a sad, underwhelming disappointment of chicken skewers, but we did luck into reservations for the next day that we were already excited for.

Wednesday morning started at the monkey park, of all places.  Our friends had asked if we were going to check out the monkeys, but we both thought they were talking about more of a zoo vs free-roaming monkeys.  It was a fun hike up a cascading trail of steps until we reached the top.  A handful of monkeys could be seen walking up the path, a few even getting it on, much to the shock, surprise, and amusement of a few parents and their kids.  The top of the park had an amazing view of downtown Kyoto, while clusters of monkeys laid on the ground, hung in trees, or camped out in and around a small building surrounded by fencing.  In zoos the animals are in cages, but at the monkey park, it’s the people.  20-30 people were inside the small shack dropping seeds and nuts while feeding the monkeys, who ironically were on the outside of the fence looking in.  It was a wild site, and a fun way to start the afternoon before hitting a local market for more shrimp, rice, and noodles.

The Arashiyama bamboo forest in Kyoto is probably their most overrated attraction; an underwhelmingly brief trail system through a bunch of bamboo that ends on the outskirts of a neighborhood.  We took the long way back through a handful of neighborhoods before catching a train to the Fushimi Inari-Taisha Shrine.

I wonder how many people give up on the long trail up to the top of the Inari Shrine, because yeah, it’s a trek!  But we did make it, and we made it back down with plenty of time to catch a rest before the real star of the day:  Kobe Beef Steak – Mouriya Gion.

Mouriya Gion specializes in Teppanyaki, which is when the chef prepares multiple courses in front of us.  We had zero idea what to expect.  The restaurant seats 46 people across 3 floors, and we were greeted at the station to our left with a respectful bow from our chef for the evening.  Over the next hour plus, we were treated to a variety of courses, from a small salad and freshly prepared fish, to incredibly tasty sweet potatoes and other vegetables, and the true star of the show, Kobe beef prepared during 3 different stages of our meal.  Every course was prepared fresh in front of us, and our chef had our full attention.  By the end of the meal, I told Amy I would have loved to have taken some pictures of the different courses, but at the same time I wanted to focus 100% of my attention on the amazing experience.  How much was it?  I think it was around $500… that may have been per person, but I can’t remember.  Was it worth it?  100%.

April 17-18^th

Walking through Dontunburi and along the Tombori river walk in Osaka had more of the tourist flavor I’d expected to see in other areas of the country.  Bright neon lines and crazy intricate signs littered the main streets as we checked out the river area ahead of the night’s Buffalos game.  Amy was only scheduled to be in Japan for a week, and two of them were Disneyland, so I’d already promised that we wouldn’t be to game two hours early (which is what I usually do when I’m new to a park).  We had a great time walking the streets, snacking, and taking the world’s shortest ‘river cruise’. 

We hit the Osaka Castle en route to Hanshin Koshien Stadium and the Tigers.  The ivy was starting to bloom, giving the wall in front of one of the team stores a fresh green glow in the early evening sun.  Our tickets were on the first baseline, but all the way in the top row.  The wind whipped at the top, creating a frenzied (and cold) wind tunnel at the top that was both shocking and hilarious. 

April 19^th

We started the day with a long series of train rides, mixing the comfort and convenience of reserved seats on the Shinkansen with the cramped busier traditional trains and transfers to the Tokyo Disneyland station.  The Tokyo Yakult Swallows are on the schedule for today, with Disneyland and Disney Sea on for the last two days of the trip.  It made the most sense to stay closer to Disneyland for the night, even though it meant doubling back to Tokyo after dropping off our bags. 

We spent the later afternoon walking around after a light lunch, before heading over to Meiji Jingu Stadium, home of the Yakult Swallows.  Meiji Jingu Stadium is old and beyond cramped.  Working through the tight enclosed halls of concessions is a task, and one I actively avoided outside of a quick stop at the bathroom.  I was happy to see they’re building a new (much needed) ballpark, but as a whole, the Swallows game was actually one of my favorite games of the trip!

April 20^th-21^st

Disneyland in Anaheim is one of my three ‘happy places’.  There’s something about those early trips as a kid up through my later years as a parent taking my kids to the park that gives Disneyland an aura I just love.  I enjoy California Adventure, I enjoy Magic Kingdom and everything that Disney World has to offer, but I love Disneyland.  There was zero doubt that Tokyo Disneyland and Disney Sea would be on the list for the trip, well, my list at least!  I gave Amy the Disneyland option and offered to do it without her before she got to Japan, but she said that sounded fun too, and I was happy to have her with me.

The feedback I’d read online wasn’t joking; they line up early for both parks.  I’d done a ton of research online to make sure I understood how their old-school Fastpass and Disney Premier Access passes worked.  Fantasy Springs had just opened to everyone vs the timed access or paid access through one of their resort hotels, so I’d been reading up on how to make sure and ride the 3 newest rides.  I didn’t put quite as much time into researching Disneyland as I had the NPB, but I’d still done a lot!

Walking into the park was a little surreal.  The giant cover over Main Street felt like I’d walked into a mall, and the buildings didn’t ‘feel’ quite right.  Rides like the Jungle Cruise and Haunted Mansion were familiar revisits, and adding Stitch to the Tiki Room is a great idea, and one I’d be cool with them adopting in California and Florida.  I laughed at the Hitchhiking Ghost droids in the Star Tours queue, and any Big Thunder Mountain is a Thunder Mountain for me!  The Beauty and the Beast ride was definitely worth the paid access, and honestly, I’d recommend the paid access anytime you can get it.  I’m far enough removed now that I can’t remember the exact cost per ride, but I want to say they came out to about $12 for rides like Beauty and the Beast, as well as the premier rides at DisneySea we did the next day.  Be quick though, because paid access times do sell out, so it’s important to get to the park early to claim your spot. 

The big claim to fame at Tokyo Disneyland is the food, and we definitely ate.  The fabled Toy Story green mochi balls were not my favorite and I didn’t have any churros the first day, but we did try a few different kinds of popcorn as well as lunch at both parks between the two days.

Our next day in DisneySea was fun too; it was great being in a completely unfamiliar park.  The HG Wells world is striking to look at, but sadly both rides are fairly underwhelming.  Tower of Tower was a bust too, especially after riding the rethemed Guardians version of it in California Adventure, and the equally awesome and completely immersive version at Magic Kingdom.  Disney Springs was smaller than I expected, a collection of 3 individual rides with abbreviated lands at each corner, but Frozen was a fantastic ride and worth it for that ride alone!  (Surprisingly long, and just a really great ride!)

I’m so happy I had the opportunity to experience both parks and just wish our kids had been there too!

April 22^nd

Home seems so far away (because it is not a short flight,) and I’m ready to get back.  Three weeks is the longest vacation I’ve had in my life.  I enjoyed and appreciated every minute of it.  To have the opportunity to visit somewhere like Japan, a true bucket list for me, while I’m still (relatively) young enough to enjoy it is something I truly value.  I’d say that I don’t think my wife knows how important trips like this and my trip to the DR were to me, but at this point, I’m pretty sure she does.  So thank you, Amy.  For not only your love, but your amazing support for things like this.  I love you.

This is my last post for Blocking The Plate.