I don’t know much about baseball (all I do know was taught to me during the course of one Red Sox game by a friend from Boston who took me to see his Sox when they were playing in SF some years ago), but I did live in Japan from the end of 1984 to the middle of 1992, so the first thing that struck me about this show was that I didn’t have to be embarrassed by listening to fellow Americans who don’t take the trouble to at least attempt to pronounce Japanese correctly. ( I was also pleased to hear Niwa-san speaking English so well.)

As Niwa said, Japanese baseball players who come here (already constituting a class quite separate from those who don’t or won’t) may have distinctive personalities, though how to describe their differences must be, as he said, difficult — at least for a Japanese speaking in public and wishing to remain within the boundaries of Japanese courtesy. I appreciated his delicacy in giving credit to individual players without seeming to rate them one against the other.

It was interesting to me when I lived in Japan to discover that one way ordinary Japanese express their individuality is through their choice of the team they support. Men comfortable in the corporate world seemed to support the Giants, while those who chafed under the system were likely to be Tiger fans. I remember that a popular news anchor showed his loyalty by shaving his head and promising not to let his hair grow back until the Tigers won. (He was bald for a long time.) Another man shaved all but a topiary patch on the back of his head, where the character “tiger” appeared. Naturally the average person couldn’t go to such extremes. Girls got crushes on certain baseball players to express themselves.

I was touched to read in the blog that Ichiro’s father had given him his first baseball glove to teach the boy the (Buddhist) value of things. I found that kind of serious attention to children to be typical of adults in Japan. And that brings me to a suggestion.

Some years back, when it was popular to hold up the Japanese as an economic model, you could sometimes hear public discussion of the Japanese system of education. It’s changing because it was argued that kids didn’t have enough free time. Certainly the senior year of high school and “examination hell” as preparation for application to universities was extreme, yet the experience taught young people how to persevere in whatever they did in later life. (I think Niwa used the word patience to describe this.) Many people told me when I was there that it’s very important to continue. That meant not only not to give up in the face of difficulties but also simply to dedicate oneself to becoming better at things. For chilidren it also meant showing gratitude to one’s family, who have paid — often at great sacrifice — for any education beyond junior high school as well as for after-school cram classes. It’s true that not every family can give its children the education they would wish, but those children may enter an apprenticeship for, say, becoming a potter or a sushi chef. The typical period of apprenticeship is ten years. And I never found anyone to be without a “hobby,” which might mean pursuing one of the Japanese arts such as flower arranging, studying a foreign language, playing tennis, mountain climbing, skiing, painting, or playing a musical instrument. (Maybe even memorizing baseball stats and collecting cards.) People did what they could afford, or nearly afford, and still were able to be generous to each other. Could be worse.

Since I left Japan, apparently homeless people can be found in the large cities, but it may be still generally true that people expect to become productive citizens without depending on a formal welfare system. Of course there is crime, but, at least when I was there, public expressions of teenage and young-adult violence ran to things like speeding on empty streets at night in cars without mufflers, not to driveby shootings. What was more annoying than the speeders was the noise of sound trucks used by right wingers who drove slowly up and down the streets in the daytime during conferences of left-wing groups such as teachers, playing at top volume the martial music of imperial days to interrupt the meetings. (As they approached, the traffic police at intersections literally turned their backs.)

So how about a show comparing the advantages and disadvantages of the Japanese and American systems of education — with emphasis on the kind and extent of parents’ involvement — and the results that can be expected from each. We don’t seem to be able to figure out how to fix our system, so maybe we should do as the Japanese would: first identify countries where education seems to be successful, then study those systems thoroughly, and, finally, send teams of investigators to study the systems on the spot and consult with teachers and politicians. Is Japan one of the examples of success? Would its system work in a multicultural society like ours? Would anyone support funding the (almost murdered) Department of Education to carry out such a study? Is it too late?

Again, thanks for a continuously interesting and varied hour. This one program almost makes up for all that’s been lost at NPR.

Personally if they can play the game well I could not care less where they came from. If the Sox could sign a 20 game winner from Algeria I would be delirious with joy.

I’ve not visited Japan; I have been to the DR. From the shoeshine box have come Miguel Tejada, Vladimire Guerrero, Bartolo Colon.

Let’s celebrate that narrative and emulate that ethos.

On the other hand, Jason Varitek is an overrated player. Probably one of the worst at his position. Otherwise, why would’ve the Mariners traded him… (sigh).