<figure id="attachment_443023" aria-describedby="caption-attachment-443023" style="width: 835px" class="wp-caption alignnone"><a href="#" data-ident_hash="7941afbd"><img src="https://res.cloudinary.com/fridaydigital/image/private/t_article_image/wpmedia/2025/10/a57ff54bae51c220a6fb97d6a22586f2.jpg" alt=""></a><figcaption id="caption-attachment-443023" class="wp-caption-text">Coach Nakanishi and others welcome back Suzuki (No. 44) with a hug in the top of the 9th inning of the first game.</figcaption></figure>
 This is professional baseball!
 The announcer was so moved by the game that he exclaimed, &#8220;This is pro baseball!&#8221; This was the legendary doubleheader between Kintetsu and Lotte that took place 37 years ago today, October 19, 1988, at Kawasaki Stadium in Kawasaki City, Kanagawa Prefecture.
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 This was a very important game for Kintetsu. If they won two games in a row, they would win the league championship for the first time in eight years; if they lost or drew even one game, Seibu would win the championship by a greater margin.
 Yoshiaki Kanemura, a former member of the Raging Beef Warriors who was a regular at third base at the time but had been removed from the roster due to a broken left hand sustained in a game a few days earlier, recalled the game (Kanemura provided the following comment).
 I was convinced Kintetsu was going to win even before the game started. I was injured and all I could do was to make the players happy. The night before the doubleheader, I went to many exclusive clubs in Ginza and Roppongi in search of a venue to celebrate the victory. With a cast on his left hand, he would drink until morning to celebrate.
<h2> People were even on the rooftop of the adjacent building.&#8221;</h2>
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 It was late afternoon when Mr. Kanemura returned to the hotel where he was staying and woke up. He jumped into a cab and headed for the Kawasaki stadium, where he was overwhelmed by the bizarre atmosphere.
 The stadium was not filled with spectators, and there were even people on the rooftop of an adjacent building,&#8221; he said. It was an unbelievable sight for me, as I usually play at Kawasaki Stadium, which is usually deserted and deserted.
 I was playing at Kawasaki stadium, which is usually deserted and empty. I was impressed to see him and Coach Futoshi Nakanishi hugging each other in front of the bench as the game entered the ninth inning.
 Kintetsu won the first game 4-3.
 I was waiting at the locker, and many players came back crying. When I saw their faces, tears spilled down my face, which was also swollen with a hangover. In the second game, manager Akira Ohgi allowed me to sit on the bench. Normally, players who are on the disabled list are not allowed on the bench, but I was sitting in a blind spot behind the bat case, out of sight of the Lotte team and the umpires, wearing a jumper.
 The second game was just as tense as the first, with the score 1-1 until the sixth inning, and the outcome of the game was never in doubt.
<div data-friday-nextpage-lead=" The umpires protested vehemently, &quot;I was yelling to death.&quot;"></div>
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It was the top of the seventh inning. Tokuichi Fukiishi, who was playing third base in my place, hit a solo home run. He is usually a quiet, unassuming craftsman, but he struck a rare gut-punch. &#8230;&#8230; Forgetting that the Lotte team might find out about it, I couldn&#8217;t help but cry and hug Mr. Fukiishi on the bench.
 Kintetsu led 4-3 in the bottom of the 8th inning, and victory was almost in sight. Hideyuki Awano, the ace who had taken the mound, was hit by a painful shot. He gave up a solo homer to Hideaki Takazawa, the fourth batter in the Lotte lineup, to tie the game.
 I was disappointed,&#8221; he said. I was disappointed, but I wasn&#8217;t leading. I didn&#8217;t give up. I said to myself, &#8216;I can still do it.
 The controversial situation occurred in the bottom of the ninth inning, 4-4, during Lotte&#8217;s attack. At the time, there was a rule that if a game went over four hours from the start, the game would end at the end of that inning. The game was already over 3 hours and 30 minutes old. As mentioned earlier, a tie would not give Kintetsu the championship. With no time to spare, Lotte manager Michiyo Arito protested vehemently, accusing Kintetsu second baseman Daijiro Oishi of base running interference.
<h2> I yelled at him to death.</h2>
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 I just thought, &#8216;Get your ass out of here. He even bought me a meal, and I yelled at him from the bench to the point of death. I criticized him a lot, using words that I wouldn&#8217;t be able to say now.
 The protest lasted nine minutes. By the time Kintetsu finished their attack in the top of the 10th inning, four hours had passed, and the game ended in a 4-4 tie, with Kintetsu just one step away from their long-desired victory.
 After the game, I went to the restroom behind the bench to wash my face,&#8221; said Ohgi. Then Manager Ohgi came to the restroom and washed his face, too. He never cried in public. He gave Boku a look that said, &#8216;Don&#8217;t tell anyone,&#8217; and repeatedly splashed water on his face. After a pause, I joined the Kintetsu players lined up in a row in plainclothes and stood on the ground of Kawasaki Stadium, bowing to the fans who filled the stands.
 When I returned to the hotel where I was staying, I found a large quantity of beer in the banquet room, which had been prepared for the victory. After returning to the hotel, Ohgi poured beer into cups and shook hands with each player to thank them for their hard work.
 It was already around midnight. Normally, the clubs in Ginza would be closed. The same was true of the restaurant I had reserved for the celebration. But my mom and the hostesses, who were moved by watching the fierce battle with Lotte on TV, said, &#8216;No matter what time it is, you must come. Please come. I&#8217;ve prepared sushi for you, too,&#8217; they called me in tears.
 Then I took the fielding team out to Ginza, and the third meeting was in Roppongi. I don&#8217;t remember the details, but I remember that everyone was making a lot of noise and crying. I think it was around 7:30 in the morning. I remember that when I was about to return to the hotel, exhausted from drinking and crying, I saw businessmen hurriedly walking to work.
 The drama continued.
 In 1989, the following year, we overturned the 8.5-game deficit between us and the top-ranked Orix and won the league championship. In the Japan Series, they won three straight games against the Giants and lost four in a row, but that is typical of Kintetsu&#8217;s dynamic spirit.
 The frustration of missing out on the championship in Kawasaki, the excitement of witnessing the fierce battles of his friends, and the gratitude &#8230;&#8230; of the fans who filled the usually empty stands, all contributed to the team&#8217;s success. For Kanamura, &#8220;10/19&#8221; is the starting point of his career as a professional baseball player.

 Kyodo News

 There is a legendary game that will remain in the history of professional baseball. It was the Kintetsu-Lotte game played on October 19, 1988, at Kawasaki Stadium. The game was a doubleheader in which Kintetsu would win the championship if they won consecutive games. A former bullfighter looks back on the tragic and emotional ending of the game and the fierce battle between the players.

Aoki, who never cries in public, was in the restroom… “I cried until morning,” said the former ferocious bull fighter! Kintetsu vs.

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