It's no secret that I love basketball. The Denver Nuggets are obviously the best, but I enjoy basketball teams of all shapes, sizes, and colors. That's why, when I discovered that the Toyama Grouses were going head-to-head with the Akita Happinets this Sunday, I couldn't help myself--I had to be there.
I think the fact that the team names are kind of crazy is a reflection of the fact that Japanese people tend to take everything very seriously. Japanese people don't have a lot of opportunities to be fun and ridiculous in their daily lives, so when they have a chance to be crazy, they go big or go home. Thus we get team names in the Japanese BJ League like the Happinets, the Bambitious (a combination of Bambi and ambitious from a place famous for deer), and the Grouses--an animal that doesn't strike as much fear into the heart as one might suspect. They tried to make our mascot frightening by giving him a pair of large, angry eyebrows, but it didn't quite do the trick.
Regardless, I wanted to check out a game. It was close by, cheap, and probably my one and only change to see a seven-foot-tall person with tattoos in rural Japan, so we packed up our bags and headed out to the stadium. I say stadium, but it was really nothing more than a court and some bleachers, hardly seating more than the Thunder Dome--the grandiose name of the Manual High School gym.
I hadn't been hoping to find nachos smothered in fake cheese, which is good because they didn't have any. As a matter of fact, there were a lot of things that I've gotten used to seeing at professional sporting events that I didn't get to see here. The sexy Denver Nuggets dancers? Replaced by scantily-clad elementary schoolers. The energetic, active and personable Super-Mascot Rocky? Replaced by someone in grouse suit who stood there and waved a flag the whole game. The basketball? Replaced with a much lower-scoring, less floppy version of the pro ball I'm used to. In general, Japanese basketball is a stripped down game with much less fanfare, but still enjoyable. I think there's a lot less pressure to perform, so there's less nasty, dishonest behavior. We did get to hear one of the Grouses loudly proclaim "That was bullshit!" when he disagreed with a call--something he would never have gotten away with in the US. I guess there are certain perks to working in a country where no one knows what you're saying.
Regardless, I wanted to check out a game. It was close by, cheap, and probably my one and only change to see a seven-foot-tall person with tattoos in rural Japan, so we packed up our bags and headed out to the stadium. I say stadium, but it was really nothing more than a court and some bleachers, hardly seating more than the Thunder Dome--the grandiose name of the Manual High School gym.
I hadn't been hoping to find nachos smothered in fake cheese, which is good because they didn't have any. As a matter of fact, there were a lot of things that I've gotten used to seeing at professional sporting events that I didn't get to see here. The sexy Denver Nuggets dancers? Replaced by scantily-clad elementary schoolers. The energetic, active and personable Super-Mascot Rocky? Replaced by someone in grouse suit who stood there and waved a flag the whole game. The basketball? Replaced with a much lower-scoring, less floppy version of the pro ball I'm used to. In general, Japanese basketball is a stripped down game with much less fanfare, but still enjoyable. I think there's a lot less pressure to perform, so there's less nasty, dishonest behavior. We did get to hear one of the Grouses loudly proclaim "That was bullshit!" when he disagreed with a call--something he would never have gotten away with in the US. I guess there are certain perks to working in a country where no one knows what you're saying.
I couldn't find the specific rule, but much like many co-ed sports back in the US that specify how many women must be in play at any given time, there's a limit to how many foreign players can be on the court at any one time. This means that you get seven-foot-tall Westerners going up against Japanese guys who are a good foot and a half shorter than them, and the trade-off, of course, is the same trade off there always is. The smaller players are going to win when it comes to speed and agility, but they're going to have a hard time launching the ball over a taller player who can just reach a hand up and bat it away.
The season is set up quite differently in Japan, as well. Instead of playing games during the week, each team plays two games a weekend--against the same team. Today's game was the second day in a row that the Grouses had taken on the Happinets (we lost last night 77-87, but won this afternoon 83-77). This system wouldn't work in the US, since the NBA plays so many games, but since there are only 16 teams in the BJ League, it works fine here.
The season is set up quite differently in Japan, as well. Instead of playing games during the week, each team plays two games a weekend--against the same team. Today's game was the second day in a row that the Grouses had taken on the Happinets (we lost last night 77-87, but won this afternoon 83-77). This system wouldn't work in the US, since the NBA plays so many games, but since there are only 16 teams in the BJ League, it works fine here.
The bottom line? I had a great time. I would love to see the Grouses go head-to-head with the Nara Bambitious in Toyama City at the end of the month. It's certainly a different type of basketball than what I'm used to, but sports are like music--they translate beautifully even without language. When the Toyama Kataller (our soccer team) start their next season, I'd like to see a game or two as well. There's something about getting together with a thousand other people and cheering as one that's so fun. Who knows, maybe I'll even go to a Toyama baseball game, too.