Japan Baseball's Taiwan Stars

Jackie Chen　/　photos Arthur Jeng　/　tr. by Peter Eberly

May 1987

中文

Last November Kuo, Kuo, and Chuang got together for their fans. Second from the right is Ma Chi-chuang, an ROC representative in Japan. （photo courtesy of the Kuo Yuan-chih Fan Club）

Three pitchers from the Republic of China are currently playing major league baseball in Japan: the Chunichi Dragons' Chuang Sheng-hsiung, the Seibu Lions' Kuo Yuan-chih, and the Lotte Orions' Kuo T'ai-yuan. On Taiwan they're famed as "Chuang and the two Kuo's" but in Japan they're better known as "Kaku, Kaku, and So."

Last year, Chuang Sheng-hsiung and Kuo Yuan-chih posted eleven victories each, with respective earned run averages of 3.15 and 3.65, figures which placed them third and thirteenth among pitchers in their leagues.

Out for most of the season with a hurt shoulder, Kuo T'ai-yuan didn't pitch enough innings last year to rank among the season's individual statistics leaders, but his 5-7 record and 2.91 e.r.a. were quite respectable, nonetheless.

The pitchers' fine performances have been presented in the Japanese news media as yet another "Taiwan offensive" in the wake of golfer T'u Ah-yu's success on the Japanese circuit. But to the players themselves, they're the same as everyone else--trying to do the best they can at their jobs.

"In our business, like gambling, you either win or you lose." So says Kuo T'ai- yuan, "little Kuo," the "fastball king" of the Japanese majors.

Kuo has been through it all. At the Los Angeles Olympics he was a focus of great attention, fanning U.S. batters in three straight pitches 12 times and tossing a fastball clocked at 146 kph. Ten Japanese and American professional teams made him offers.

Nor did he disappoint expectations once in the majors. He still holds the Japanese fastball record with 155 kph. And he was the first rookie ever to pitch a no-hitter in the Japanese majors. The media started calling him "the Orient Express," "the king of the fastball," and "Bonzai Kaku."

But since hurting his shoulder, Kuo has played just three months of ball. His team sent him back to the minors, and one newspaper went so far as to allege that his injury had been caused by alcohol poisoning due to overdrinking.

Kuo well knows the fickleness of the public. "In the pros it's the bottom line that counts," he says in Taiwan dialect.

Nor is Kuo T'ai-yuan's experience unusual among ROC pitchers in Japan. "Winning is what it's all about here," says Chuang Sheng-hsiung, "That's what they pay you for."

Kuo Yuan-chih, or "big Kuo," who has been in Japan the longest of the three, believes that, hurt or not, "a player's got to know how to protect himself." He says that if a pitcher wants to succeed, he's got to pitch so that "they have no choice but to want you."

The pitchers' pessimism is based to some extent on the experiences of their predecessors. Three other top Taiwan players, Li Tzung-yuan, Kao Ying-chieh, and Li Lai-fa, went to Japan in November 1979, but all met a rocky road. Li Tzung- yuan disappeared after a 5-16 season and an e.r.a. of 5.80, while Kao and Li Lai-fa never even made the majors.

Unlike South Korea and the U.S., the ROC has no professional baseball teams, so players from Taiwan are at a disadvantage in turning pro. "You may have heard a lot about it, but you don't know what the pros are like until you're there," Chuang says. "You're the one out there, and you're the one who's got to solve the problems."

The three pitchers faced similar problems at first--they couldn't speak the language and couldn't get used to the food--but all agree that adjusting to the life style isn't the biggest difficulty. "People who've grown up on baseball teams like we have aren't too demanding about the way we live," Chuang says, pointing out that three to six months is enough to get used to the food and to life on the road, and a year to get by with the language.

The real problem is on the field.

Just as Chuang says, winning and losing is what it's all about. "Each time you win or lose affects your salary," Kuo T'ai-yuan says, adding that foreign players, who are limited to two to a team in Japan, are in a particularly precarious position. "If a Japanese player doesn't play well, they'll send him back to the minors for more training, but we're on our way home."

As to pay, the three players rank in the top hundred of Japan's seven hundred major leaguers; on the other hand, their teams' demands on them are correspondingly greater.

What they fear most is a slump or an injury. How did Kuo T'ai-yuan get through the year his shoulder was injured? "I sweated it out!" he said, lighting up a cigarette at the thought of those painful days. Chuang Sheng-hsiung watches out for his bread-winning arm so much that he "uses it as little as possible to expose it to the least possible danger." And Kuo Yuan-chih, after seven years as a professional, concurs that "protecting yourself is the only way."

Although life in the pros is a busy one, each of the pitchers has his own forms of recreation. Kuo T'ai-yuan likes to drink a little sake and listen to Japanese songs--"loud when I'm down in the dumps." Kuo Yuan-chih plays golf, fishes, cooks Chinese food, and drives a sports car. And Chuang simply reads, chats with overseas students, or watches TV to relax.

Some people consider the Japanese xenophobic and think it must be difficult for a foreign player to fit into their society, but Kaku, Kaku, and So say otherwise. "The fans come to the ballpark to appreciate your ability and not to distinguish your nationality," says Kuo Yuan-chih, adding that neither the umpires, players, or fans treat them as foreigners, and Chuang and "little Kuo" agree.

After several years in the majors, the three still have "no regrets." "Coming here is the only way to know just how good you really are," Kuo T'ai-yuan says. And Kuo Yuan-chih asserts confidently, "Not making the trip would really be letting yourself down."

If they have any misgivings at all, it's that they're all Chinese and have to compete against each other in a foreign country. Little Kuo is in a different league, but big Kuo and Chuang are not so lucky. A "battle of So and Kaku" would be a good draw at the gates, but because of little Kuo's injury, the two have not had to face off against each other in the regular season yet.

Whether it happens this season or not, Kuo and Chuang look at it philosophically. "It's okay whoever wins," Kuo T'ai-yuan says. "Somebody from Taiwan will get a victory in any case."

[Picture Caption]

Last November Kuo, Kuo, and Chuang got together for their fans. Second from the right is Ma Chi-chuang, an ROC representative in Japan. (photo courtesy of the Kuo Yuan-chih Fan Club)

A starter for four years, Kuo Yuan-chih this year was changed to a reliever. Here he is congratulated by the manager on his first relief victory.

Kuo Yuan-chih pumps iron.

"Big Kuo" relaxes by sitting in his favorite sports car.

"We'll toss for it. You win, you get my autograph." Kuo Yuan-chih retains the heart of child.

Kuo T'ai-yuan's team, the Seibu Lions, warm up before a game.

"Speed merchant" Kuo T'ai-yuan has a classic delivery.

Does he have this expression after every pitch?

Being able to talk volubly with reporters is an asset for a professional ball player.

"In our business you either win or lose." Kuo T'ai-yuan's career has had its ups and downs.

Who are the zoom lenses focused on?

Chuang Sheng-hsiung smiles despite giving up a hit.

The Japanese news media describe Chuang as a polite, well-mannered young man.