The games have drawn crowds of 15,000 (a size never seen before) to Taipei municipal stadium and have sold out Liteh stadium in Kaohsiung so that one or two thousand fans had to be turned away at the gate. Even the mid-size cities of Hsinchu and Taichung have produced average turnouts of 6,000 tO 7,000 a game.
According to plans of the R.O.C. Professional Baseball League, this year's season will consist of 180 games played in Taipei, Hsinchu, Taichung, Tainan and Kaohsiung and run from March 17 to mid-October. The four teams are made up of more than 80 top Chinese players along with 16 foreigners from the U.S., Panama and the Dominican Republic.
The introduction of professional baseball is a big event for local sports in general, which have been languishing for years from such problems as the loss of top athletes overseas, too few teams at the grassroots level and a lack of career opportunities for players. It is particularly ironic that these problems have plagued baseball, a sport that has enjoyed the highest record of achievement and the largest following of any.
If the establishment of professional teams can relieve these problems for baseball, as it seems to be doing, it will surely serve as a model for other sports.
Some positive changes have already occurred during the short four or five years in which the league has been planned and set up.
Players in the amateur A League who had been resigned to playing "so-so" ball for the rest of their lives have been shaping up and rehoning their skills. The hustle and drive shown by players last fall brought back for many fans memories of Williamsport, Gary and Ft. Lauderdale, the scenes of earlier Little League, Senior League and Big League world series triumphs.
The formation of the new league has also lured back a number of players who had retired from the game completely.
"It's the only chance I'll ever get to play as a pro," says Huang Wu-hsiung, who was teaching junior high in Tai-chung when he was drafted as a pitcher for the San Sang baseball team. For him and others like him the establishment of professional baseball has meant a chance for a second spring, and a number of players who had gone off to Japan, such as Huang P'ing-yang, K'ang Ming-shan and Tu Hung-ch'in, have already packed their bags and come home.
It has also boosted the formation of Little League, Senior League and Big League by providing them with continuity into the adult level. According to the national baseball association, the number of Little League teams in the country has climbed from fewer than 40 in 1981 to more than 200.
Most importantly of all, it means that the business world has really begun putting its heart into backing sports.
The support that businesses have given to sports in the past has been largely for individual athletes or events, and companies have rarely received the payback in ticket sales or advertising they had expected. "They've felt like they've been pouring money down a bottomless hole," says T'u Te-yen, an assistant director at the Lien-tai athletic agency, and their support has rarely been on a continuous basis.
Professional baseball represents a break with this spot-by-spot approach.
The cost of operating each of the four teams, which are separately owned by the Brother Hotel, Wei-Chuan Food Corp., President Enterprises Corp. and Mercuries and Associates, will run about NT$20-30 million a year, according to the chairman of the board of Brother Hotel, Tonson Hong, excluding such large initial expenditures as the cost of building stadiums and dormitories. Support on that scale has never been seen before.
Before the league was opened, there was a great deal of discussion about whether baseball should go professional at all. Tonson Hong, one of the leading supporters of the idea, believes that the public is thirsting for more leisure activities yet has never been offered the chance to watch really high-level action over a season of games so now is the perfect time for setting up professional teams.
But the idea was opposed by most baseball people, who felt that the conditions weren't ripe at all. There are not enough sites, they said, the facilities are run down, the players are not good enough, and the fans may well not materialize. Some alarmists even believed that forcing the birth of professional baseball at this time would not only fail to achieve the desired result but would shorten the life of amateur baseball, which is still being run lackadaisically.
But Hong was unmoved. The reasoning he held to was simple: "If we don't act now, it'll be too late." There are still a lot of talented players from world championship teams around who will bring in the fans and whose skills are first-rate, he maintained. If we wait a few more years, judged by the decline of baseball in recent years, the next generation of players won't be as good as the present one and "we won't be able to do it even if we'd like to!"
It was under these conditions of mixed promise that professional baseball started up. "At a meeting the day before opening game there were still some owners who wondered, 'What'll we do if the players outnumber the spectators?'" the league's director of game affairs, Lin Chiang, reveals.
Since then more than a month has passed. Like Taiwan's weather, the games have been hotter in the south: The players have tried harder, and the spectators have shown more enthusiasm. The results have been "unexpectedly good," says Pro Baseball Bi-weekly's managing editor, Alan C. H. Wu.
The main reason for the league's success has been exciting games. The teams have been well matched, and limits have been set on salaries and bonuses to keep the richer teams from raiding talent from the poorer ones. Foreign players earn up to US$3,000 a month plus NT$12,000 for miscellaneous expenses. The salary ceiling for Chinese players is NT$80,000 a month with bonuses capped at ten times that figure. The feeling of most players is that the salary levels are acceptable if need be, but the bonuses are too low.
Baseball commentator Chang Shao-hsiung points out that the bonuses really are low when compared to those in the U.S. and Japan, but they are all the teams can afford considering the small scale of operations and the fact that the league is just getting off the ground. Once the teams establish themselves on a solid footing, the players' pay can be raised accordingly.
Salaries may be on the low side, but the league also offers an award system to encourage players to excel. The top prize, for hitting, is NT$400,000, and the lowest, for athletic spirit, is NT$100,000. There are also awards for home runs, safe hits, steals and other areas of achievement. The teams also offer their own award systems, such as Wei-Chuan's, which is based on team contribution points.
T'u Te-yen, who knows a lot about baseball in the U.S., says that professional baseball in Taiwan, to be frank, is still at the initial stage, and the league's organization, the quality of play and the companies' investment in their teams, players, coaches and equipment all need to be strengthened.
The first test has been passed. What people are most worried about now is how to keep the ball rolling. The key perhaps lies in constant reflection and improvements.
[Picture Caption]
The veteran Brother Hotel squad is one of the teams with the most fans.
The home-run king of Japanese baseball, Wang Chen-chih (known in Japan as Saduharu Oh), came to Taipei municipal stadium to attend the opening-day ceremonies on March 17.
The cartoon mascot figures were favorites with kids.
"Go! Go! Go!" The greatest effect of pro baseball so far has been drawing spectatore back to the ballpark.
Wang Chun-liang, batting sixth for the President Enterprises team, became the league's first hero by slamming an opening day homer.
Pop singer T'ung An-ko delivered a spirited rendition of "Pro Baseball's New Era" as the overture on opening day.
Baseball caps and megaphones--indispensable accessories for watching a game--were offered in the various team colors.
Some fans don't like dugouts because they block their view of the players.
The advertising billboards around the stadium form an interesting contrast with the action on the diamond, but the spirit of competition is basically the same.
A couple of pros give pointers to youngsters at a ballpark in Tainan. The period during which professional baseball has been conceived and organized has seen a big expansion in local teams.
Li Chu-ming, the league's most popular out-fielder, is surrounded by fans.
The veteran Brother Hotel squad is one of the teams with the most fans.
The home-run king of Japanese baseball, Wang Chen-chih （known in Japan as Saduharu Oh）, came to Taipei municipal stadium to attend the opening-day ceremonies on March 17.
The cartoon mascot figures were favorites with kids.
"Go! Go! Go!" The greatest effect of pro baseball so far has been drawing spectatore back to the ballpark.
Wang Chun-liang, batting sixth for the President Enterprises team, became the league's first hero by slamming an opening day homer.
Pop singer T'ung An-ko delivered a spirited rendition of "Pro Baseball's New Era" as the overture on opening day.
Baseball caps and megaphones--indispensable accessories for watching a game--were offered in the various team colors.
Some fans don't like dugouts because they block their view of the players.
The advertising billboards around the stadium form an interesting contrast with the action on the diamond, but the spirit of competition is basically the same.
A couple of pros give pointers to youngsters at a ballpark in Tainan. The period during which professional baseball has been conceived and organized has seen a big expansion in local teams.
Li Chu-ming, the league's most popular out-fielder, is surrounded by fans.
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