Striking Out

In

the 70-year history of Japanese professional baseball, the word "strike" has meant only one thing—and it wasn't a labor walkout. Japanese players are loyal company men first, superstars second, and even in a reform-minded era, baseball is a time capsule of old-fashioned hierarchy. So when players threatened a strike (albeit only on weekend games) last week to protest a plan to combine the two professional leagues and merge the debt-strapped Kintetsu Buffaloes into the Orix BlueWave, it was clear that something was very wrong.

A stopgap deal agreed to by owners last Friday aims to keep the two leagues separate for a year and delays the team merger, thereby averting a strike for at least another week. But few deny that Japanese baseball is ailing. Most teams, which exist primarily to advertise their corporate owners' name, are losing money, and fans are being drawn away by other sports, like football. Television ratings of the nation's top team, the Yomiuri Giants, have dropped 38% in the past five years, and the league's best players have defected to the U.S. Owners say austerity measures such as club mergers are necessary given these dire circumstances. Author Robert Whiting, an expert on Japanese baseball, agrees that "fundamental restructuring is necessary" but adds that management's tendency to put the parent corporation before the team is responsible for the Japan League's woes: "[The owners] are victims of their own lack of commitment." Fans sympathise with the players—polls show only 8% public support for merging teams, while 68% would back a strike.

If players and owners can't find common ground by Friday, the strike could still go ahead. But there is hope on the horizon for Japanese baseball: last week's compromise also eased long-standing restrictions on the creation of new teams. That may open the door for 31-year-old Internet tycoon Takafumi Horie, who says he wants to reform Japanese baseball but saw a previous bid for the Buffaloes spurned. If the current showdown succeeds in opening the door for him and others, it could mark the start of a turnaround for Japan's favorite sport.