In his country, it's as if Ichiro never left home
Ichiro followed me wherever I went.
For 16 days in May, my family toured Japan, touching down in Tokyo, Osaka, Kyoto and Hikone. A day did not go without Ichiro.
Early the first morning, while channel surfing in my hotel room, I came across a Pepsi commercial and thought I was hallucinating from jet lag.
The commercial starts by showing Safeco Field, then pans in on vendors pouring Pepsi into cups as a huge crowd filters in. Following that were highlights of Ichiro in action, along with the Mariner Moose and dancers imitating his well-known batting stance.
In the background is a jazzy tune, with a man singing: "Ichiro! Number 51! Star! Come fly! We're going to drink it up! Swinging a bat that's like dynamite! Ta-ta-ta-ta! We're going to live it up!"
In another commercial with the same jazzy song, Ichiro, with his well-toned muscled legs, is pumping weights dressed in shorts and a long-sleeve blue shirt, and at the end gulps down a Diet Pepsi.
The soft drink company was also promoting Ichiro bottle tops — six collectable versions of Ichiro in his batting stance in both home and alternate uniforms, plus a top with an Ichiro bobblehead, the Mariner Moose, a Mariner helmet or a baseball.
They're still showing the commercials at www.pepsi.co.jp.
"Even though Ichiro has been away from Japan, he is still a very popular figure and is very well liked," said Micki Hayashi, manager of the Nissei Company Limited international department in Osaka and who closely follows Japanese players in America. "Even here in Japan when you mention Ichiro (a common name that means "first-born son") people's immediate thoughts are the Mariners."
My next dose of Ichiro came later that morning when I had a chance to watch the Mariners play Boston on NHK TV. Since I was on the other side of the international date line, a night game in Seattle was a breakfast affair in Japan.
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Ichiro was dazzling against Boston that day, scoring all four times he reached base as he led the team to a 7-2 victory. NHK's commentators said he was "sugoi," which means superb or great, and they added how beautiful it was in Seattle.
That afternoon we toured a district of Tokyo called Harajuku — a hip district where a lot of kids hang out on weekends — and we immediately saw two men sporting Seattle Mariners caps and official Ichiro No. 51 jerseys.
Harajuku, packed with stores carrying trendy clothes, seems to go on for miles, and is home to a five-story toy store called Kiddy Land.
The store was on top of my 5-year-old son Taylan's wish list. Clogged with just about any toy you can imagine, the shelves featured an Ichiro doll in his patented batting stance, which was the size of a Barbie doll and sold for 12,300 yen ($98 U.S.).
The toy store also had a five-shelf rack devoted to nothing but Hello Kitty items with Mariners logos on them. They had the cute large-headed kitties dressed up in uniforms, as well as pillows, blankets, pens and keychains with the kitties in Mariners uniforms.
The next morning, while Japan's Shigeki Maruyama was leading heading into the final round of the Byron Nelson Classic, NHK opted to show the final Mariners-Red Sox game instead. A losing Mariners game took precedence over a PGA event Maruyama eventually won.
In the middle of Tokyo's Ginza District, similar to Times Square in New York, I saw a huge four-story billboard of Ichiro in his Mariners uniform for an advertisement called Sato Healthcare Innovation energy drink. The sign peers out over Chuo Dori, a street they block off on the weekends for entertainment.
Sato, targeting a younger crowd, hired Ichiro to star in its ad campaign, replacing a middle-aged comedian named Tamori, who pitched their product for 17 years.
Near the billboard, you can view the Mariners' game broadcasts on a huge television screen across the street from department stores.
As we waited to board the bullet train, I stopped at a kiosk in the station. Here you could buy Ichiro keychains and cell-phone holders. Attached to the holders was a tiny doll of a fuzzy-faced Ichiro in a running pose.
Our next destination was a small town called Hikone, just 30 minutes by subway north of Kyoto, where I figured the Ichiro mania would fade away.
Nope, think again.
My son wanted to visit the Toys R Us store. While cruising the aisles, my brother-in-law Ryan Nakata (whose son Gerald's middle name is Ichiro) came upon some major-league player figurines, and sure enough there was Ichiro again in his batting stance. Both Ryan and I bought one for our sons.
At a sporting goods store in Hikone, my 8-year-old nephew Brent Tsang found a treat he was looking for, an Ichiro Orix BlueWave batting glove for 2,400 yen ($20 U.S.). Brent also scored an Ichiro autographed black Mizuno baseball glove for 16,400 yen ($131 U.S.) while shopping in Kyoto.
A store vendor in Osaka at a place similar to Pike Place Market, but four times larger, knew I was from America and asked me in broken English where I was from. I responded Seattle. The vendor smiled, got into a batting stance and proudly said "Ahhhhh, Ichiro."
As we headed to the Asakusa District of Tokyo, I boarded a subway train, and there was Ichiro staring at me in a Sato energy drink ad. As we strolled along the district's maze of trinket stores I saw a street vendor selling Ichiro Rookie of the Year pins.
A couple days later, it was off to Tokyo Disneyland. At Tomorrowland, I saw a tot being carried on his father's shoulders with another No. 51 jersey, and in Fantasyland, a young woman was sporting a Mariners cap.
I asked her where she had purchased the cap. She didn't understand, so I told her I was from Seattle and she smiled and I should have guessed what her response would be: Ichiro.
As we prepared to leave Japan at Nariita Airport, my father pointed out a young boy who had on a Mariners cap.
I am now a true believer that while Ichiro may be playing out his baseball career in America, he is much more popular than even the emperor in Japan.
By the way, what is the emperor's name?
Mark Yuasa: 206-464-8780 or e-mail at myuasa@seattletimes.com.