Daisuke Matsuzaka Reflects on His Glorious Memories: Aiming to Shed the Choker Label

“When I think of ‘WBC memories,’ the first thing that comes to mind is stepping onto the mound in the final of the inaugural 2006 tournament.

It wasn’t while I was pitching, but rather watching from the mound as Cuba’s leadoff batter Eduardo Paredes (53) faced catcher Tomoya Satozaki (49)—just before play began. I wondered why I felt that way, and then I realized: back in high school at Yokohama High, I had won both the spring and summer Koshien tournaments, and after turning pro, I hadn’t been able to perform as I wanted in international tournaments. In the crucial games I had to win, I hadn’t been able to.

I could hear the whispers: ‘He can’t win when it counts,’ and I was aware of it myself. In the Olympics, I pitched in the bronze medal game or semifinals, so starting a final was something I hadn’t done since high school.

When Coach Sadaharu Oh (85) said, ‘The final is yours,’ I felt fired up. I wanted to erase the reputation of ‘not winning when it mattered’ in this tournament that decides the world champion,” said Daisuke Matsuzaka.

Matsuzaka (45) referred to his bronze medal game against South Korea at the Sydney Olympics, where he pitched a complete game shutout until allowing three runs in the bottom of the 8th. In the Athens Olympics semifinal against Australia, he allowed only one run through 8 innings, showcasing dominant pitching. Notably, Matsuzaka is the only pitcher to have won in every major tournament he’s played: the spring and summer Koshien, the Japan Series, the World Series, and the WBC final.

“Even so, being criticized for ‘not producing results’ shows that people expect me to win—‘Matsuzaka is supposed to win.’ As a player, that’s actually motivating. Some members of the Japanese team clearly looked different under pressure, but being nervous is normal. I tried to treat them as usual so they wouldn’t be overly conscious of it. How you perform under pressure is something you can only learn through experience.

When I first wore the Japan uniform in middle school, I was nervous and moved. But since then, throughout my baseball career, I’ve hardly ever felt tense or stiff due to nerves.”

True to his words, Matsuzaka went 3–0 with a 1.38 ERA in the first WBC. In the second tournament in 2009, he again went 3–0 with a 2.45 ERA, earning consecutive MVP awards. Behind these achievements, however, he struggled to adjust to the official WBC baseball.

“From around the 2023 tournament, the rosin changed, and I felt like it started to actually help with grip. Back in my time, though, the rosin didn’t match the official ball at all—the ball would just slip.

It wasn’t just pitchers; fielders were conscious of it during throws too.

I struggled with my slider. It would slip, or not break at all, and I couldn’t throw it along its usual trajectory. So I had to change the grip and release on my cutter, modifying it to act like a slider. I often adapted other pitches when my breaking balls weren’t working, so that experience helped.

Still even after making the adjustments, I thought, ‘This is tough,’ all the way through the tournament. The leadoff home run I gave up in the final against Cuba? That was off my makeshift slider.”

With his signature slider uncertain, Matsuzaka delivered his best pitching against Mexico, helping secure the first tournament championship.

“After a walk-off loss to the U.S. in the previous game, I started under a tense atmosphere. In the second inning, I had runners on base, but Satozaki skillfully drew a hitter out and it became a rundown between first and second. However, second baseman Tsuyoshi Nishioka (41) made a bad throw, leaving a runner on third with one out.

Considering the flow of the tournament, I couldn’t allow a run there. I thought, ‘I absolutely have to get this out,’ and threw eight consecutive inside fastballs.

I recently talked with Satozaki, and he said, ‘The fastball was so good that I called for it without hesitation.’ Spectators may have thought, ‘That’s risky,’ but I didn’t feel any hesitation. I didn’t shake my head at the signs even once.

It wasn’t about data or theory; it was about the sense we shared when facing the batter in that moment. That’s why I could throw confidently and decisively. My fastball was that good in that tournament. Even if it’s a slider, curve, or changeup, having one reliable pitch makes things manageable. Conversely, if you don’t know which pitch to rely on, it can be very difficult.”

Looking ahead to the current tournament, the MVP right-hander points to hard-throwing lefty Yusei Kikuchi (34) as a key pitcher for the Samurai Japan staff.

“Whether he starts or comes in as a second starter, he throws such a strong ball that using him later in critical situations could also work. I basically see him as a starter, but depending on how he’s used, he could be very interesting.

I’m not nervous, but I loved the tension of international tournaments, which you don’t get in the regular season. The joy of wearing the Japan uniform and playing. Japan gets excited every time, which really boosts motivation.

Within that unique atmosphere, you see what you can and cannot do. I’ve seen players struggle, but those intense, condensed experiences are rare. Both the good and the tough experiences will serve me well in my baseball career—they’re treasures.”