 Though comparatively small in
number, Swallows fans are a generally easygoing bunch.
You won't see many drunken brawls at Jingu
Stadium. On
weekdays, a lot of businessmen show up (perhaps that's
why the pompom girls only cheer during the week) while
families and kids turn out on Saturdays and Sundays. A Giant rivalry: Although
Swallows fans naturally want to see Yakult win a pennant,
they're usually ambivalent about other teams. If at Jingu
a fan for another team sits on the Swallows side and
cheers for the opposing club, no one really cares. But if
it's a Giants game, keep your eyes open.
Because
of the cross-town rivalry between the two teams, Swallows
fans hate the otherwise-popular Giants. As the only other
Tokyo Central League team, Yakult attracts those fans who
like the CL but not the Giants.
Fortunately
for Yakult, about twenty years ago, Yomiuri broke CL
rules by signing pitcher Suguru Egawa. Enraged by their
team's arrogance, many Giants fans drifted to other ball
clubs. Since the Swallows won their first Japan Series
around the time the Egawa affair broke out, Yakult picked
up a large number of disillusioned Giants fans.
At
one recent Giants vs. Swallows game at Jingu, an
attractive young woman and her boyfriend, both Yomiuri
fans, sat on the Swallows side of the bleachers. When the
Giants starting line-up was announced, the woman began
clapping and cheering for each member.
Hundreds
of eyes, each pair filled with disgust, stared at the
only person in the right field bleachers with the nerve
to cheer for the Giants. During the top of the first
inning, when the young woman began clapping along with
the Giants songs, the man behind her picked up his
plastic megaphone and began shadow-boxing her head. By
the bottom of the inning, the couple had fled to the
Yomiuri side of the field.
After
the Swallows won a June 1997 game against the Dragons at Chiba Marine Stadium, the Yakult oendan
(cheering section) held a rally outside the park. When
they finished leading about a hundred Swallows fans in
cheers for Yakult's players, the oendan turned their
attention to the last-place Giants.
While
the cheerleaders banged drums, blew trumpets and waved
flags, fans joined in chants such as, "Jigoku ni
ochiro, Gi-an-tsu" (Go to hell, Giants) and
"Kantoku yameroo Nagashima" (Resign [Giants]
manager Nagashima). No one paid much attention to the
Dragons.
Bring
an umbrella: The manner in which Swallows fans cheer
during games is more subtle -- but just barely.
Swallows
fans are best known for how they celebrate a run. When
that happens, fans open thousands of umbrellas and sing Tokyo
Ondo (WAV 463 kb or song and lyrics), a traditional Japanese song. It's not clear when or why this
custom started, but today, most people say it's how the
Swallows fans tell the opposing pitcher that he's either
"washed up" or that it's time for him to leave
the game and "take a shower."
Before
actually singing Tokyo Ondo, however, fans do a
quick rendition of their kutabare chant. If
Yakult scores against the Carp, fans will cheer,
"Kutabare Hiroshima!" (Screw you Hiroshima!),
four times. When the song ends, everyone shouts,
"Banzai! Banzai! Banzai!"
After
the third out, and the Swallows take their defensive
positions, fans will chant the name of the player
responsible for the RBI until he tips his hat or, like
right fielder Atsunori Inaba, bows.
The
knockout cheer (WAV 225 kb) is often played in close games.
Usually with the Swallows leading, the oendan will play a
fast rendition of Popeye the Sailor Man, followed
by a quick K-O chant. Against the Hanshin Tigers, Yakult
fans will shout, "K-O, K-O, Ti-gah-soo; K-O, K-O,
Ti-gah-soo."
The
oendan plays a different song for each Swallows batter,
and most fans clap plastic megaphones along with the
music. If you want to join in, all you need to know is
the basic katobase cheer.
Though
it's nearly impossible to literally translate
"katobase," most people say it means "get
or hit" or "let's go."
Suppose
Swallows catcher Atsuya Furuta comes to bat. The oendan will play his
song, and fans will chant (in seven beats),
"Ka-to-ba-se Fu-ru-ta." If foreign slugger Dwayne Hosey comes to bat, fans may chant,
"Home-run, Home-run Ho-o-sey." And if a player
has a longer name, like first baseman Takahiro Kobayakawa, the chant becomes, "Ka-to-ba-se
Ko-baya-kawa."
Stand
when you say that: After Kobayakawa left the Carp and
joined the Swallows in 1997, some strange things started
happening in the Jingu right field stands.
Although
the Swallows have their umbrellas shtick, most other
teams' cheers lack distinction . . . with one
other exception. The Carp katobase cheer is something
that must be experienced up close.
The
standard Carp cheer consists of two alternating sets of
fans standing and sitting.
If
Hiroshima shortstop Kenjiro Nomura steps up to the plate, the Carp oendan will
play his song and all fans chant "Ka-toba-se
No-mu-ra." Then half of the fans stand, bang their
megaphones against the air, shout, "No-mu-ra,"
and sit back down, while the second group of fans echo
the first. The entire cheer plays out like this (WAV
246 kb):
Everyone:
Ka-to-ba-se
No-mu-ra
First half [stands]: No-mu-ra [sits]
Second half [stands]: No-mu-ra [sits]
First half [stands]: No-mu-ra [sits]
Second half [stands]: No-mu-ra [sits]
First half [stands]: Nomuraaaaaaaa [sits]
Second half [stands]: Nomuraaaaaaaa [sits]
Then,
with a 1-2, 1-2-3 beat, the cheer starts over again, and
is repeated until the batter gets out or reaches base.
When the fans reach the final "Nomuraaaaaaaa,"
they hold their megaphones straight out, as if saluting
the Carp fuehrer. No team fills a stadium with as much
hypnotic intensity as the Carp.
After
doing the cheer roughly 150 times over a nine-inning
game, I'm not sure how Carp fans are capable of walking
out of the ballpark. Essentially, cheering for Hiroshima
is the athletic equivalent of using a
"stair-master" for three hours. Exhausting,
yes, but the Carp cheer is fun and addictive.
A
little mischief: No wonder, then, that after
Kobayakawa joined the Swallows and hit three home runs
against the Giants on opening day, Swallows fans began
paying homage to their new hero by borrowing the Carp
cheer. This, of course, drove the Swallows oendan nuts.
Numbering
between thirty and fifty members, the oendan are a
relatively small and fanatical bunch. Some are
easy-going. During one June 1997 game, with the Swallows
in first place by ten games, one member declared that he
hoped Yakult would lose a few games because things were
getting too boring. There's diversity in every group.
Unfortunately, too many oendan members take themselves
and their jobs far too seriously.
At
some game, oendan members walk through the aisles and
chastise fans who are eating: "The Swallows are
batting . . . you should be cheering!" Hungry fans
usually ignore such squawking.
No
surprise, therefore, that when fans began doing the Carp
cheer for Kobayakawa, a few of the oendan control-freaks
began saying, "Don't copy other teams--we have our
own cheers." Ignored again, the oendan tried a new
strategy--they simply stopped playing Kobayakawa's song.
After
a few days, with the ballpark full of different fans, the
oendan again played the former Carp first baseman's song.
Perhaps they hoped the troublemakers had disappeared.
Instead, there were even more. Apparently, the oendan
finally gave up, resigned to let fans have fun in their
own way.
Maybe
the same thing occurred years ago to the first few
mischievous fans who brought umbrellas to Jingu Stadium.
And look what happened.
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