Why a Leader of a Preparatory School Aiming for Koshien Scolds People with Intent”
The Story of the Meihachi Baseball Club (2)
He is one step short of his dream. Despite the restrictions placed on him by his school, which is one of the best preparatory schools in Tokyo, there is a man who still earnestly aims to make it to the Koshien National High School Baseball Championship. He is Takafumi Sugihara, manager of the Meio Nakano Hachioji Baseball Club. This documentary follows his struggles and anguish, as well as the physical and mental growth of his students, over a period of 180 days.
July 29, 2009. The day after the previous team narrowly lost in the quarterfinals of the West Tokyo Tournament of the 103rd National High School Baseball Championship, the new Meidai Nakano Hachioji team started up. The new team started with the long-cherished dream of participating in the Koshien National High School Baseball Championships entrusted to them by their seniors, but their coach, Takafumi Sugihara, was tormented by a sense of unease for a while.
To give them “true independence
Sugihara is a leader who values the autonomy of his students. Of course, he also makes them focus on achieving their goals, but human education comes before winning. He is a coach with a strong emphasis on human education. The first promise he makes to the parents of students who join the baseball team is simply, “In three years, we will make sure that your child can talk with adults on an equal footing. Because of this, he asks his students questions far more frequently than other high school coaches.
Before practice, the captains and others always visit the coach’s office to check the day’s practice, but Sugihara does not decide the menu unilaterally. He is prepared, but if the students have something they want to do and he decides it is necessary, he accepts it.
Shuya Hosaka, who has been named captain of the new team, naturally knows this.
However, when the team was first formed, nothing came out of Hosaka. What should we do about today’s practice? I just ask, “What do you want to do?” “Do you have an opinion?” Sugihara’s question, “What do you want to do? Sugihara, unable to bear the sight of them, gave them the menu and that was the end of it.
Such exchanges continued between the two of them.
Many of the second-year students on this team, including Hosaka, are more serious than usual. They also lack confidence due to their lack of experience and opportunities to play in games. Perhaps because of this, they just waited to be given them. Sugihara recalls.
Hosaka is also a serious and hardworking student. He is a serious and hardworking student. He has the highest academic ability in the club and is very athletic. I bought those qualities and entrusted him with the captaincy of the team. However, he is quiet. He has never been through a rough patch, has few successes, and lacks self-confidence. He cannot move on his own. This generation does not have students with the same level of ability as the previous team, so in my “baseball notebook,” in which I communicate with each player individually, I ask, “Can we go up to the level of the third grade team? You were troubled from the beginning, as you wrote to me,” he said.”
Are these guys serious?
Not only did the one senior have a strong group of pitchers and fielders, but Daichi Sanbe, the former captain, showed rare leadership skills to create a team where the students could move independently. I have seen a good example up close. However, that does not mean we can do the same.
Captain Hosaka’s days of suffering continue.
He tries to put his thoughts into words, but Sugihara asks, “Why?” When asked, “What do you mean?” he is unable to return the question. Sugihara felt that Hosaka’s words had no basis or weight. He once told Hosaka to “stop being the captain.
He was also not a good judge of the other students, who only practiced as they were told. They all took it seriously. But from Sugihara’s point of view, there was nothing in it. He would ask “Why did you move like that just now? When asked to explain why, few students are able to do so. I don’t blame them for their mistakes and failures. However, can they take responsibility for the results of their actions by playing lightly and without thinking? Is that enough to convince their peers? Will they trust you?
Will they trust me? In August, I only raised awareness of this issue,” says Sugihara, “and that was the end of the month. The team repeated the same question over and over again. For example, if a base-running move shared by the team was not done, instead of scolding, he would ask, “Why did you do that?” He asks, “What is the best way to do it? If he was at a loss for an answer or if there was no weight to the question, he would press the issue until the cause became clear. We also use harsh words.
The reason for this is that he wants his students to take responsibility for their actions and words. This is also in anticipation of when they leave for the world in the future, and of course, it will have an impact on the results of their baseball games.
There have been times in the starting stages when the students have not responded to our questions, and in the fall we lost early. We have learned the importance of trusting our students and letting them express their intentions. They are still high school students, so it may be difficult for them to act completely independently. Still, I believe that if they cannot move and work on their own to some extent, they will not grow as people or as athletes, and they will not become stronger.”
But as the days go by, there is no change. Sugihara’s doubts are growing.
Are these guys serious?
Hosaka recalls those days.
“Right from the moment I became captain, people kept telling me, ‘You have no idea what you’re doing.’
He held meetings with vice-captains Yusuke Shikata and Tatsuki Nakamura, or with all second-year students, to discuss how to improve the team. The next morning, they tell Sugihara what they have put together. But
There were times when I was pushed back for three days in a row, saying, ‘There’s nothing in it. I was also often scolded, saying, ‘You can’t see what’s going on around you,’ and ‘Your words have no power. There were times when I thought to myself, ‘What the hell am I doing? But I am aware of that, and I have to admit it. I don’t even know what to do. I really feel like I’m in trouble. I have not said it out loud, but many times I wanted to quit as captain.
Hosaka does not believe he is suited to be a captain. He says he is not good at public appearances or speaking. Even in his junior high school days with the Sagamihara Boys, he was the quiet one on the team. However, when Sugihara asked him to be the captain, he was not surprised, and he did not mind accepting the job.
I expected that it would be myself, Shikata, or Nakamura, and above all, I was proud of the fact that I had been able to complete even the toughest practices with my former team for a year without once cutting corners. I also thought it would be an opportunity for me to grow. However, although I thought I was prepared for it, I was painfully aware that it would be much harder than I had imagined.
Sugihara’s birthday is on August 10. Usually, the students would celebrate his birthday with him and he would be able to bask in their joy, but this was not the case in 2009. The students did not have enough time in their hearts to let us forget that.
Who will be the most pleased to win?”
Then, around the time of the Bon festival, Sugihara looked at the unchanged practice scene and felt that there was a limit to how much he could go on. Sugihara’s sense of crisis echoed through the Meio Nakano Hachioji Baseball Stadium.
Enough! Do it on your own!
After practice, Sugihara knelt down with Hosaka, Shikata and Nakamura and shared his feelings with them in a heart-to-heart talk.
He said, “Do you know why I’m being so harsh with you? Why do you think people scold? Because they expect it! If I didn’t expect it, I wouldn’t be so passionate about it. I wouldn’t tell people I didn’t like them. I get emotional because I want to do something about it. It’s because I mean it!”
From the eyes of Hosaka, Shikata, and Nakamura, tears streamed down in the form of anxiety and undigested emotions that had been building up.
Every day, they are denied and never acknowledged. The answers that they have discussed and come up with on their own are brushed aside. We lose the meaning of our existence. There is no point in continuing like this. I almost felt as if I was going to end up thinking that way.
What we are doing is not in vain.
The three looked into each other’s reddened eyes and vowed once again to do their best.
‘Are we trying to do it ourselves? Who would be most pleased to win? It’s us. It’s my job to support your baseball.”
Sugihara also pushed the three of them once again with strong words.
The reality was not so dramatic that they could change all at once. Sugihara’s words of encouragement did not decrease even after the next day.
Still, they tried to move forward, struggling with each other.
We never know where the switch will turn on as we accumulate successes and failures,” Sugihara said. But when the switch is turned on, high school students change dramatically. I always try not to miss the slightest change in the students’ behavior or even a single word they say.
What Sugihara wants to tell his students
Sugihara knows firsthand from his own high school experience that you never know when or what will become a turning point.
In the fall block tournament of my first year in Meihachi, the ace who was a year ahead of me was unable to pitch, so I was asked to pitch as a substitute starter. I was battered by the Chuo University High School team, and I took the mound. I was moved to right field in the middle of the game, and in the end, I lost the game cold when an opponent hit a homerun over my head. I still remember that scene clearly. I thought to myself, “What the hell is this? I was so disappointed. I couldn’t even cry.
But as I was changing in the classroom in a daze, I suddenly felt a sense of urgency. If I kept on like this, I would be finished. I’ll end up being a nothing player. Practice was tough. But I realized that I had to do it on my own.
From that day on, Sugihara began running the six kilometers from the nearest station to his home every day. Although he felt sorry, he asked his parents to drive him to the station and leave his equipment with them. When he got home, he continued to swing the bat. Even so, he maintained a high ranking in his studies without losing any grades.
You never know what you will leave behind. We don’t even know when our efforts will be rewarded. But I still think I may end up with nothing. That thought makes me scared. Even if we cannot see the future, we must change. I realized that the time to change was now.
In the summer of his junior year, he led the team as the ace and No. 4 player. In the summer of his junior year, he led the team as the ace and No. 4 player, and they reached the finals.
Everyone has potential.
You can’t change things by leaving it up to others.
While confronting the players with this passion, it was not until the end of August that I began to see changes.
(Continued in Part 3)
Cooperation: Fumihiko Washizaki