Baseball fans on Taiwan are nearly all familiar with one statistic: How many ROC baseball players are there in Japan?

The answer is thirteen: Chuang Sheng-hsiung, Kuo Yuan-chih, Kuo T'ai-yuan, Liu Ch'iu-nung, Lin Hua-wei, Lin Chung-ch'iu, Yeh Fu-jung, Hsu Cheng-tzung, Yang Chieh-jen, Lin I-tseng, Wu Fu-lien, T'u Hung-ch'in, and Ch'en Ta-feng.

Among them, "Chuang and the two Kuo's" are the only professionals. Lin Hua-wei retired two years ago, and Ch'en Ta-feng plays for a college team. The rest are on amateur teams.

Why do the ROC's best players go to Japan?

"Everyone has the same dream: to play in the pros," says Lin Hua-wei, who played in Japan for five years before retiring. "But the dream usually vanishes before the first year is up." The main reason, of course, is the restriction that Japanese teams may have no more than two foreign players.

Besides wanting to play in the pros, the players' reasons for staying are various. Lin Chung-ch'iu says he's there for the money: "My salary's four times what it would be at home."

Liu Ch'iu-nung, who's been in Japan for six years, went there in pursuit of a different dream: to understand "why Japan's teams are better than Taiwan's." He says that Taiwan always beats Japan at the Little League and youth levels but loses in adult contests.

Japan is a powerhouse of Asian baseball: the system there, the facilities, the fans, and the opportunities for players are all first-rate. The Japanese have been playing baseball for a century. They follow it, love it, are crazy about it.

Some people explain the popularity of baseball in Japan in cultural terms. One theory holds that the one-on-one "battle of nerves" between pitcher and batter reflects the Japanese samurai fighting spirit. Another maintains that the game's teamwork and precision appeal to their group spirit and discipline.

Whatever the reasons for its popularity, Japanese baseball has developed some pecularities of its own, such as the prevalence of sacrifice bunts, sacrifice flies, and hit-and-run plays and the fans' passion for statistics and ratings determined by arcane formulas.

Lin Hua-wei says that the Japanese spectator's cheers and groans are directed less at winning and losing than at each player's performance. "Experts are watching your every move," Liu Ch'iu-nung says in agreement.

Japan's amateur teams are sponsored by private companies and corporations to promote the health and spirit of their employees and to earn publicity. The amateur teams, like the professionals, have their own baseball fields, cheerleaders coaches, and trainers, the main difference being that the amateurs are required to work at the company in the morning in addition to training in the afternoon.

And the training is grueling. "Our training's as tough as the pros'," Liu Ch'iu-nung says, describing a rigorous program of hill work, wind sprints, and weightlifting. T'u Hung-ch'in and Wu Fu-lien agree: "We had it easy back home!"

Despite the work, the players agree that they've learned a lot in Japan. Lin Hua-wei admires the Japanese players' conscientious attitude: "Their athletes work just as hard in training whether they're in the line-up or not." And Liu Ch'iu-nung likes the way the Japanese companies take care of their employees: "They helped pay my expenses for a couple of operations." Nevertheless, after six years as a pitcher, he's ready to retire. "Barring an accident, I plan to hang 'em up next year."

Liu is considering two plans after he retires. One is to go to the U.S. "to see if I can't learn something about sports medicine." The other is to work in a Taiwan branch of his team's company, a manufacturer of musical instruments. He says he's diligently studying the technique of instrument tuning in preparation.

Having gone to Japan with great ambitions as a player and preparing to leave it as an instrument tuner, Liu could be expected to feel some disappointment, but he says that he's "seen and learned all I could" and has no regrets.

Lin Hua-wei, who was also determined to play in the pros, has chosen another road. Two months after winning the "fighting spirit" award at the amateur championships, Lin returned to Taiwan and announced his retirement before a crowd of thousands at the Taipei municipal stadium.

Why did he elect to retire at the peak of his career? The riddle was solved four months later when he tested into the Athletic Research Institute at Tsukuba University.

"I could have kept on playing for three or four years," Lin says, "but what then? I just faced up to life after 35 a little earlier than some." He decided he wanted to come back to Taiwan to coach and that he should acquire some specialized expertise first.

A person's fate in a baseball career, just as in life itself, is a mixture of choice and chance.

Playing baseball in Japan is the dream of many players, but only a few are lucky enough to have the choice of making the trip.

Some go there to look and learn and then return to Taiwan and continue playing amateur baseball. Chao Shih-ch'iang, Ho Ming-t'ang, and Huang Kuang-ch'i are examples.

Others choose to retire. Lin Hua-wei has gone back to school, and Liu Ch'iu-nung may enter business--paths completely different from baseball.

Many remain playing baseball in Japan, but they'll have to make a choice sometime.

Many others are hesitantly trying to decide whether or not to make the trip to Japan.

Japan is a dreamland for baseball players, but there's no guarantee the dreams will come true. Be they "Chuang and the two Kuo's" or Liu Ch'iu-nung and Lin Hua-wei, they still have a choice to make some day. The important thing is to make a choice that one can live with.

[Picture Caption]

Baseball in Japan is in season year-round. On the right is a professional preseason exhibition game which still draws a big crowd. Below is the national high school championship game, played in the famous Kosien stadium.

Lin Hua-wei, following Japanese custom. drinks a toast to his fellow classmates at Tsukuba University.

"It's right here." Liu Ch'iu-nung talks about a troubling injury.

All the amateur players in Japan have one dream: to play in the pros.

Dressed in his company uniform, Wu Fu-lien looks like a typical Japanese employee.

Baseball is in the blood of the Japanese. This cheerleading team has slogans on their headbands.

Japanese commuters catch a game on TV while waiting for the subway.

The fans are an appreciative bunch.

These seats cost about US$46 each. Look comfortable?

On the right is a professional preseason exhibition game which still draws a big crowd.

Lin Hua-wei, following Japanese custom. drinks a toast to his fellow classmates at Tsukuba University.

"It's right here." Liu Ch'iu-nung talks about a troubling injury.

Dressed in his company uniform, Wu Fu-lien looks like a typical Japanese employee.

All the amateur players in Japan have one dream: to play in the pros.

Baseball is in the blood of the Japanese. This cheerleading team has slogans on their headbands.

Japanese commuters catch a game on TV while waiting for the subway.

These seats cost about US$46 each. Look comfortable?

The fans are an appreciative bunch.