[Feature: New Year's Dialogue] New Year's Dialogue: A Juku That Nurtures Dreams

Happy New Year. Thank you for joining us today.

Happy New Year. It is my pleasure to be here.

Speaking of Mr. Fukuzawa, you are now famous as an undisputed TV drama director and producer, but it is also well known that during your time at Keio, you were a player when the team won the national rugby championship.

Until just recently, Japan was swept up in the excitement of the Rugby World Cup. I feel that the reason this World Cup saw such a surge in popularity was due to the influence of the TV drama "No Side Game," which you directed and which aired just before the tournament. Many people around me said they didn't really understand the rules but found the World Cup exciting and interesting, and most of those people had watched "No Side Game."

Above all, I think the casting of Toshiaki Hirose, a former captain of the Japan national team and a junior at Keio University, as an actor, and the fact that active rugby players with national team experience showed realistic play in the program, played a part in this extraordinary excitement for rugby. Was that your intention during the planning stages of the drama?

The catalyst for "No Side Game" began with a conversation I had with Junichi Inagaki, who was the general manager of the Japan national team, "Eddie Japan," during the World Cup in England four years ago.

Mr. Inagaki started playing rugby at the Chutobu Junior High School in the Juku and was the person who created the rugby team (Sungoliath) at Suntory. He also coached me when I was in Keio High School and university. After the England tournament, Mr. Inagaki asked me, "Shall we meet up for a bit?"

At the England tournament, matches between teams that weren't even that famous, like Uruguay, Argentina, and Georgia, were all sold out. However, research by the Japan Rugby Football Union suggested that for the upcoming World Cup in Japan, matches between such countries were in a critical state where they wouldn't even fill half the stadium. So, he asked me, "Can't you do something?" But to be honest, I hated rugby and didn't want to be involved much (laughs).

Is that so?

I had played rugby all the way from Yochisha Elementary School to Keio Futsubu School and high school, and it was fine until high school. However, in university, the practice was so intense that I was in a state of depression almost every day. So, although we became national champions, after graduation, I felt like "I've had enough of rugby."

On the other hand, when I had unpleasant experiences at work, I felt that I was able to overcome them mentally thanks to the practice back then. I entered the Juku from Yochisha; to put it bluntly, I was a pampered kid. When I think about why I was able to become strong, I feel it was thanks to those intense four years.

So, after hearing Mr. Inagaki's story, I thought, "Maybe I'll work hard for the sake of rugby for a bit." Then, it just so happened that Jun Ikeido was preparing to write a novel with a rugby theme, and it proceeded to a drama adaptation at the perfect timing.

I see, so that's how it happened.

Within TBS, there were voices saying it might be better to broadcast after the World Cup started, but the consensus became that it would be better to have many people watch the drama alongside the pre-tournament excitement.

In order to convey the fun and depth of rugby in this drama, real players were absolutely necessary. Also, with inexperienced people, there is a concern about injuries. So, while normally in a drama you teach actors how to play rugby, we decided to teach rugby players how to act instead. In the original story, the role of Hamahata, played by Mr. Hirose, was very significant, so who to cast there was the key.

From the time I read the original novel, I felt that he was "somewhat like Hirose" in terms of being a national team player who was struggling a bit or being clever. I told Hirose, who had been retired for several years, "There's a role that suits you, so won't you play it?" and when we did a rehearsal, I thought he could actually do it. So, after practicing for several months, we filmed it.

It fit perfectly, didn't it?

It fit so well that I thought he might even appear on "Kohaku" (laughs).

His TV commentary for NHK was also very relaxed and truly interesting.

He's smart. He generally doesn't forget his lines. I think he's quite impressive.

Mr. Fukuzawa's achievement lies in discovering such talent. Keio is the root school that first started rugby in Japan and has produced many famous players, and in your era, it even won the national championship. In terms of popularity, rugby was somewhat behind baseball, but this time the base of rugby fans has expanded considerably. I feel that this is not just a temporary phenomenon.

When you entered the workforce, you felt "enough with rugby," but I think the fact that you played rugby has become one of your strong individualities.

That is certainly true. I feel that winning the championship with the Keio University Rugby Football Club probably worked in my favor when I was job hunting at TBS.

Having such a "selling point" or "individuality" is a strength for surviving within an organization. Nowadays, it's not an era where one can easily get by as an all-round player who is a jack-of-all-trades; I think it's an era where it's difficult to succeed unless you have at least one specialty or weapon of your own.

You started rugby at Yochisha, right? I heard your homeroom teacher, Mr. Shinya Nakagawa, told you to "find something you love."

I wonder what would have happened to me if I hadn't had those six years at Yochisha. It was a mysterious education—I don't know if it was good or bad, but I was never told to "study" at all.

What I remember very well is when I was in about the second grade of elementary school, something like a Chinese rice bowl was served for school lunch. Probably the person making the lunch failed, and the potato starch clumped together into many lumps; to be honest, it didn't taste good. So, when everyone in the class left a lot of their lunch, Mr. Nakagawa got angry.

He said, "Sit in your chairs," redistributed the leftovers to everyone, and said, "I won't let you go home until everyone has eaten." The girls were screaming and crying, and we couldn't go home until late after school. He was very angry, saying, "The people who made this lunch made it because they wanted you to have healthy bodies. How would they feel if you took these scraps home just because it tasted a bit bad? Can't you consider those feelings? I won't let you go home unless everyone eats." He also told us stories about his experiences during the war. That kind of education remains very vivid in my memory.

He also often told us, "Don't lie easily," and from the second or third grade, he often talked about "what work is." He would post several newspaper articles about incidents that even elementary school students could understand and explain, "The people who caused this incident and that incident are all unemployed. Humans are very weak if they don't have a job. Even I am a teacher at Yochisha now and have a family, but if I quit Yochisha, lost my family, and became all alone, I don't know what I would do. Humans are weak creatures." And then he would say, "So, anyway, find something you want to do as soon as possible."

However, even if I thought "I have to find something I want to do," it wasn't that easy to find. I started rugby in the fifth grade of Yochisha because everyone else was doing it, but when I saw "Star Wars" in the second year of Keio Futsubu School, I thought "this is it" and vowed to become a film director. Having that kind of Yochisha education was very significant for me.

Even in the current Yochisha, the headmaster says at the entrance ceremony, "Do not lie" and "Do not do things that are shameful as a human being." My child also graduated from Yochisha, and at that time, the emphasis was not on "study" but on "finding something you love" and "not doing things you shouldn't do as a human being." I think this is a precious education that should be protected in today's world.

During the Yochisha days, you really don't study, but when you move on to Keio Futsubu School, so many smart people come in from the outside that you feel the gap and get depressed.

I'm sorry to say, but I didn't study either. I managed to get through Keio Futsubu School, but in the first year of high school, I failed a grade spectacularly (laughs).

Regarding failing a grade, I heard there was a famous quote from your mother.

When I was about to fail at Keio Senior High School, the teacher reportedly said, "At this rate, he will definitely fail. Since he is a child of the Fukuzawa family, wouldn't it be better for him to stop rugby for once and study?" Then, my mother said firmly, "Rather than studying just enough to pass or fail, playing rugby will definitely make him a strong person who can be useful in society, so I will let my son do it!" and I failed (laughs).

If you fail for two consecutive years, you get kicked out (expelled). I was told strictly, "Just don't get kicked out!" From then on, I studied. I somehow avoided being kicked out, but from then on, my life has been on the edge (laughs).

Previously, when Akio Toyoda, the president of Toyota, came to Keio University to give a lecture, he said at the beginning that he was actually in the field hockey club and spent 365 days a year at the back of Hiyoshi (Hiyoura) during his four years as a student, so he didn't know much about the university.

What I find interesting is that a person who played sports 365 days a year can properly run a global company. Fostering the power to live within an organization like this is one of the characteristics of Keio University's education. In university rankings for employability conducted by job information magazines, Keio is always number one. This is because students are evaluated for having high communication skills and high social skills.

This is true for members of the Athletic Association, but I think it's influenced by the fact that since their student days, they have had interactions with seniors who are working professionals, and even in seminars and clubs, they negotiate with companies and local governments and are active within society. I think there is a part where they are tempered from their student days regarding finding their own position within an organization and how to utilize their ideas within it. If education and scholarship include all of those things, then I think Keio students are indeed studying.

At Yochisha, for competitions in school tournaments, the team formations for the 1st, 2nd, and 3rd strings were decided not by the teacher, but by everyone in the class deciding on the captains and leaders. In that environment, we practiced for the tournament, cried if we lost, and rejoiced if we won. I feel like I was mysteriously taught how to cooperate and practice together.

My homeroom teacher, Mr. Nakagawa, also for some reason told me to "play rugby." Schools like Cambridge and Oxford in England have the elite play rugby. While rugby involves direct physical contact, it is very strict about etiquette and manners, so they teach that through rugby. Therefore, he repeatedly told me that if I played rugby, it would be useful for my life.

Baseball requires special talents like throwing and hitting, but in rugby, if you're big, you're useful in your own way, and if you're fast, you're useful because you're fast. There are roles for people of all different body types. He told me that even if I failed a grade once or twice, I would just have more friends in my year, so just do it (laughs). Those players moved up and became strong, which led to the university championship.

To be honest, at this age, I don't have much of an impression of "winning or losing" in matches. What I remember are the harsh practices at summer camp, or being on the field with my teammates looking for a ball in the middle of the night. If one ball was left on the field, it would lead to a terrible practice session, so the 1st and 2nd year students would all look for the ball together until late at night. I remember those things very well.

But it's strange that the moment we won that Japan Championship in front of a crowd of 65,000 people doesn't leave that much of an impression. Of course, I remembered it well right after I retired from active play, but as I get older, the impression of the match fades.

I see. That's interesting. This time, the Japan national team used "ONE TEAM" as their slogan. I think "ONE TEAM" includes not just those on the field, but also the players who didn't play, the supporters, and the trainers.

In rugby, people often say "One For All, All For One." In rugby, things should go well if everyone performs their role perfectly, but when the play doesn't go as planned, someone covers for it. The team is like a precision machine where the gears with their respective roles mesh together perfectly.

This is a story about baseball, but Keio baseball is often called "Enjoy Baseball." The first person to say this, Coach Yukichi Maeda, famous for the six-game series between Waseda and Keio, said he didn't mean "enjoy the game." You do hellishly painful practice. If you ask why you do it, it's because you're happy when you win, and thinking that makes the practice bearable. That's where the fun, the enjoyment, lies. He says that is the origin of "Enjoy Baseball."

Certainly, winning or losing a match is a momentary result, and I think I can understand how the parts like what you did to get there, or what you did at that time that allowed you to win, come back as the strongest impressions.

Last year, the Rugby Football Club celebrated its 120th anniversary. On that occasion, I was looking at the 100th anniversary commemorative book, and it was impressive to see Captain Tadayuki Nakano, who won the national championship in 1985 by defeating Toyota, reflecting that "if asked why we were able to become number one in Japan, it was because everyone on the team always thought about and acted on what should be done for victory."

When it comes to Mr. Fukuzawa's representative works, it's definitely "Hanzawa Naoki." Could you tell us the background of how that drama came to be?

I was once scolded when I spoke with Ms. Toyoko Yamasaki, the author of "The Grand Family." She asked with great intensity, "You people, it's fine to make TV dramas, but who do you think is supporting Japan?" When I said something like, "Maybe the chairman of Keidanren?" she said, "No! It's the manufacturing industry. The people who make things."

Why can a country with no resources or anything remain a developed nation? It's thanks to the people in manufacturing. She said, "Have you done anything to support those people in manufacturing? All you do is make dramas about doctors, detectives, and lawyers." She told me to create something that supports these people in manufacturing and makes them think, "I'll work hard tomorrow too."

I thought, "Indeed," and was taken aback. So, I decided to make a drama that could support people in manufacturing and was looking for a good original story when I encountered the original work for "Hanzawa Naoki." The original titles were "We Are the Bubble Economy Entrance Group" and "We Are the Flower Bubble Group." I didn't know what the content was like, but when I read them, they were interesting. When I went to ask Mr. Ikeido, luckily he hadn't given the rights to anyone else, so he gave his permission.

So that's how it happened.

Many TV drama fans are women. Doctor shows, detective shows, and romance shows are popular, and corporate dramas usually fail. So, I faced great opposition, with people saying no one would watch a story about bank money. However, when I kept submitting the proposal, they eventually said, "If you're going to say that much, let's try it." This is a good thing about TBS; they are relatively tolerant of new attempts. So when we started, it caught fire.

What I am also particular about, no matter what the subject, is how to live within an organization, how to rebuild a team, and how to fight within an organization. Instead of jumping out of the organization just because things aren't going well, you find ways to manage within it. Even for things that seem impossible, if you make an effort to somehow make them possible, people who will help you appear at key points.

I have also watched all of "Hanzawa Naoki," and the image of the protagonist working hard within the organization to the very end, along with the subtleties of human relationships, was impressive. Also, while being on edge along the way, you can watch while believing in the poetic justice like an Edo-period play, that "justice will always prevail." I think this is why it was so well-received.

Nowadays, the number of women living within organizations is increasing, so I also felt that during this transitional period of society, resonance spread among women for the protagonist figure struggling within an organization.

I also love "justice prevails." I want people to see something that they wish would happen, even if it's just a dream. Even if there are tough things leading up to it, it's still good that "justice wins in the end," isn't it? I'm often told, "The world isn't that easy," but I think, "Isn't that fine for dramas and movies?" I want people to enjoy it, even if only for that moment.

Also, I believe that an organization is something very important. I sometimes think that if Hanzawa is that capable at his job, he could just leave the organization, but I think there's an indescribable samurai spirit, like "leaving here would be a defeat."

In a drama, it's no good if only I can do it; a cameraman is necessary, and excellent art directors and PR people are also necessary. Good things are created when excellent people from various fields gather. I'm often told, "Wouldn't you make a lot of money if you went freelance?" but it's not that simple. How important it is to work hard within an organization. I want to value teamwork.

Did you watch the World Cup?

I saw the Japan vs. South Africa match at the stadium. We lost, but it was a good match, and I was excited to see that the Japanese team could do this much. It conveys differently when you see it in person.

We say "ONE TEAM," but a rugby team has to become a family, so we hold training camps. You give signals for line-outs and scrums, but signals only work until about the third phase of attack. You don't know what will happen after that, so everyone senses how the person with the ball will move as if they are using telepathy. That's what's interesting.

I watched the match between the US and Argentina, and the US team fell apart from about the fourth phase, and they stopped understanding what each other was doing. That's why they can't win even with amazing physiques. You can't win unless you pass without looking, believing that this guy will definitely catch it. Unless you share various worries at a training camp and develop a relationship where you communicate through telepathy, you can't perform on such a big stage.

How do you evaluate the final match between England and South Africa?

I felt something like South Africa's painful history, a soul that refused to lose to England. Also, rugby is really about the forwards. It was the same in the Japan match, but no matter how fast someone is, if you lose that pushing contest, you can't win.

So the origin of rugby lies in the forwards.

That's right. That's why you're made to do scrums like hell. During my Keio days, we were made to do them for two or three hours straight, but the more you do them, the stronger you get. You can push in areas where you've really struggled like that.

You might think being pushed a little is no big deal, but if you get pushed hard in the first scrum, you start to panic, thinking "this match is in trouble." That's how important the pushing contest and the scrum are.

Originally, Keio rugby traditionally emphasized the forwards, didn't it? A while back, while the backs of Doshisha and Waseda were brilliantly passing the ball, Keio was doggedly pushing the scrum with the forwards. Thinking about it that way, I think Keio, which used the forwards as a starting point, was actually closest to world rugby.

Fukuzawa: That's exactly it. Even for people with no talent at all, the pushing contest gets stronger the more you practice. I think the sense for passing in the backs requires innate talent, but since not many such good players came to Keio, we just managed by training the forwards. This is very important; if the forwards are strong, you don't lose that easily.

At that time, did you go to sumo stables for cross-training?

We went to sumo stables often.

I served as the director of the Athletic Association Sumo Club for 20 years. Keio has a close relationship with the Kasugano stable; retired sekitori (professional sumo wrestlers) serve as our instructors, and the Yochisha (Elementary School) children's sumo tournament is hosted by the Kasugano stable every year. I heard there that when American football players from the U.S. visited the stable and tried "butsukari" (collision practice) against the wrestlers, even those with incredible physiques were no match for them. They were simply bounced away. I think the Keio Rugby Football Club had a great eye for realizing that practicing with sumo wrestlers would strengthen their scrums.

In "No Side Manager," the forwards also went to the Kasugano stable for joint practice. Even forwards who were close to their prime were no match for them. We also went there during our student days, and I really feel that when it comes to "pushing," sumo is the best in the world.

While your dramas include exhilarating ones made in partnership with fellow Keio alumnus Mr. Ikeido, you also create historical works with heavy themes, particularly those dealing with the war period. From "Song of the Sugarcane Field" in 2003 about the Battle of Okinawa, to the remake of "I Want to Be a Shellfish" and "Red Cross: Onna-tachi no Akagami," where does the desire to tackle these kinds of works come from?

My mother experienced the war, and when I was young, she often spoke about how painful it was to be evacuated. Our family is of the lineage of Sutajiro Fukuzawa, and I was told endlessly about how various things were taken away after the war, and how they couldn't go against the people of the GHQ. In that way, a sense that we were no match for the West was instilled in me.

However, when I worked on "Kinpachi-sensei" and interacted with young people, they didn't seem to care much about those things. That is a very good thing, but as I talked with them, I suddenly felt that if these people grew up as they were, they might go to war without a second thought. They hadn't heard anything about the horrors of war from their parents or others.

Looking at history, when 50 or 100 years pass and everyone who tasted the misery of war has died, and people who don't know it come into power, they sometimes start wars again. I felt that even if they might not get high ratings, dramas with war as a theme were something that should be done.

"Song of the Sugarcane Field" was also highly acclaimed, winning the Grand Prize at the Agency for Cultural Affairs Arts Festival and the Best Drama award at the Asian Television Awards.

Furthermore, the film "I Want to Be a Shellfish" earned nearly 2.5 billion yen at the box office. You have succeeded even when tackling heavy themes where it's uncertain how many people will watch.

My mentor in film was the screenwriter Shinobu Hashimoto, who wrote Akira Kurosawa's "Seven Samurai." Mr. Hashimoto wrote the screenplay when "I Want to Be a Shellfish" was first filmed in 1959, and he wrote it once more for the remake. He often came by during filming and editing, and I learned a great deal from him about what film is.

Director Kurosawa apparently once did 50 rehearsals in a single day. Then, he did 50 more the next day, and two days of shooting were lost. When Mr. Hashimoto said, "Certainly the 50th time was better than the 1st, but I can't see the difference between the end of yesterday and the end of today," Kurosawa replied, "No, it became two seconds shorter."

Anyway, Director Kurosawa reportedly said, "Film is all about tempo." Do you think people will pay money to be put in a pitch-black room and shown something where the story doesn't progress at all? He said to show the story with good tempo. That's why he did 100 rehearsals—to make it as fast as possible. Mr. Hashimoto told me, "You should also make your future works as fast as possible," so the tempo of "Hanzawa Naoki" became fast.

Therefore, as my creed, I strive to create works with good tempo that keep viewers interested, wondering "what will happen next?"

The film version of "The Castle of Sand" (1974, directed by Yoshitaro Nomura), which you remade as a TV drama, also had a screenplay by Shinobu Hashimoto. While this isn't a film that deals directly with the war era, the shadow of war is present, such as the point that the original family registers were lost in air raids. Two years ago, you directed the film adaptation of Keigo Higashino's "The Crimes That Bind," which is said by the public to be the Higashino version of "The Castle of Sand." How did that come about?

When I read the original novel, I certainly thought it was like "The Castle of Sand." Since "The Castle of Sand" is one of my cinematic bibles, I accepted the job thinking this might work.

It is very interesting that exhilarating dramas that make people feel refreshed on a Sunday night and ready to work hard again from Monday, and themes with such high social significance, coexist within a single director.

TV drama directors have to do many different things, so it's quite tough. Originally, I wanted to be a film director, but recently I haven't felt that much charm in film itself. The number of people who watch TV dramas is nearly ten times that of films, so the reaction when one becomes a hit has incredible destructive power. Even a big hit in film is 2 or 3 million people at most, but if a drama gets a 20% rating, more than 20 million people are watching.

Television production is still a popular profession, and TV stations attract people with respectable educational backgrounds who undergo strict selection and enter after being chosen from hundreds of applicants. Whether everyone can actually do production once they enter is unknown. Jobs like sales and general affairs are also important.

Even so, excellent students from the University of Tokyo, Kyoto University, Waseda, and Keio gather there. While luck is involved, there is a limit to the number of people who can do production there, and although it's hard, you can gain various experiences. Therefore, it is a profession that requires talented human resources.

It means having a proper system for education in a broad sense, or for developing people. It's a space where talent gathers and clashes, and various things are born from that.

Schools are the same; they are not just places for teaching from above, but places where people gather and clash, and talent blossoms from within that. However, a system for people to grow must be created. The Yochisha is exactly like that. It's not about spoon-feeding everything, but about creating a place and having them grow there.

I believe you have dared to challenge things that everyone said "will surely fail," without being bound by common sense.

The reason Yukichi Fukuzawa spoke of "independence and self-respect" was because the feudal system was an organization where everyone followed what those above said, and free speech was not permitted. In the Meiji era, he realized that wouldn't work and sought to modernize, but the government tried to modernize by strengthening the system—creating laws, creating institutions, and training bureaucrats.

At that time, Fukuzawa said that was insufficient. Unless every single citizen modernizes, the country as a whole will get nowhere. In that sense, if you ask "what is independence and self-respect," first is "Gakumon no susume (An Encouragement of Learning)." The next important thing is to be economically independent, which means "having a profession," as Mr. Nakagawa said. If you rely on others or live on a lord's stipend, you cannot act freely.

Once you have completed your studies, obtained a profession, and become independent, the next important thing is to take an interest in which direction the world is going and to have a firm idea of which direction it should go. Instead of leaving it to politicians, you do what you think you should do; if instructions or trends are wrong, you say they are wrong; and even if everyone says it can't be done, you do what you feel must be done. The sum of these things is the spirit of independence and self-respect, and I believe that is also utilized in Keio's education.

By the way, what I definitely wanted to ask today is how the image of Yukichi Fukuzawa is spoken of within your family and clan, and what kind of image you have of him as his great-great-grandson. There aren't many opportunities to ask a descendant of Fukuzawa what they think of him.

I'm sorry to say, but there isn't that much said about Yukichi Fukuzawa within the family. What was often said was that Yukichi Fukuzawa thought "what is absolutely necessary from now on is Dutch," and he even made his own dictionary to study it, but when he realized in Yokohama that Dutch didn't work at all and what was really needed was English, he studied all over again. People use that as an example and ask me, "Can you do something like that?" (laughs).

They say, "Because your great-great-grandfather did that, he built a fine school and you can act important." Rather than exactly what he did, I was always told to just do what I thought was right, and if that failed, to challenge it once more.

That's an interesting story. I don't think there are many families, even among those related to Keio, that can use Yukichi Fukuzawa in that way (laughs).

I get scolded, "You can't even do one English, so can you do something else after mastering all of English?" and "You can't even do Japanese" (laughs).

In my own view, the image of Yukichi Fukuzawa is, first, that he was a person with great curiosity when he was young. He was energetic and took action immediately, and always cleared obstacles even if they existed. He pulled off things that seemed extraordinary to others. For example, when he was told he could board the Kanrin Maru if he did so as a servant, he coolly said that was fine and boarded as a servant.

When "Gakumon no susume (An Encouragement of Learning)" became a hit, pirated versions of "Things Western (Seiyō Jijō)" were circulating in large numbers. When he said he wanted to do the publishing business himself, the publishing wholesalers told him it was a problem because he wasn't a fellow trader. Then, he went wearing an apron and said he had become an industry person with the trade name "Fukuzawa-ya Yukichi" starting today, so let him do it, and the amazed traders said "it can't be helped" and recognized him.

I feel from various episodes that he was a person with a temperament of overcoming difficulties through ingenuity, not just the switch from Dutch to English, and when people told him something was impossible, he would conversely think, "Alright, I'll challenge it."

Furthermore, I believe that Yukichi Fukuzawa was not originally as socially adept, bright, and active as is commonly said. He lost his father at age three and returned to Nakatsu, but since the language around him was different, he experienced a lonely childhood playing with his sisters. That's why, conversely, as he grew up at Tekijuku or when he visited the U.S., he realized that human connections are extremely important.

He also said that when interacting with people, one must soften their expression and approach them with a smile. I think he also made an effort to do that. I suspect that when he was alone, Yukichi Fukuzawa was surprisingly introspective and a person who thought deeply about things.

We have discussed many things, but where is Katsuo Fukuzawa heading next as a director?

I don't know. It's very difficult to say how this place where we live will change. Television will certainly shrink. But I do want to do another rugby-themed work.

Next year is the second Tokyo Olympics and Paralympics. Keio accepted the pre-games training camp for the British Olympic and Paralympic teams, and since last year, athletic teams have been coming to Hiyoshi to interact. I believe that Keio students seeing Olympic athletes firsthand will have a very large impact on their lives thereafter.

The ancient Olympics were integrated with scholarship, where athletes camped in advance and studied philosophy and history, so I believe it is important how the university, as a seat of learning, engages with the Olympics. Especially at Keio, Yukichi Fukuzawa's educational philosophy was "first develop a robust body, then cultivate the mind."

The Olympics is a tremendous event. Are the British athletes coming to Hiyoshi to practice?

Since last year, various British Olympic and Paralympic teams have been coming and collaborating with Keio students. In particular, the Paralympic team is truly grateful. This is because Keio listened carefully to their requests and did major renovations to make the facilities completely barrier-free. We knocked through about two rooms in the Kyoseikan Collaboration Complex accommodation facilities to make everything, including the bathrooms, barrier-free.

We have various connections with Britain. Mr. Bill Sweeney, who was the CEO of the BOA (British Olympic Association), signed the pre-camp agreement with Keio, but two years ago he moved to become the CEO of the Rugby Football Union. Recently, when Prince Charles came for the Emperor's enthronement ceremony and I was invited to a reception at the British Ambassador's residence, Mr. Sweeney was there, and we had a great time talking about rugby.

I heard that in the clubhouse of the Oxford rugby team, jerseys from various rugby-root schools around the world are displayed, and he told me, "For Japan, the Keio jersey is displayed." In this way, British sports officials have, thankfully, felt a sense of affinity toward Keio for a long time. I think it has become a very valuable asset in terms of connecting human networks between Keio and universities or organizations around the world.

Speaking of human relationships, the person who taught rugby to Keio students 120 years ago was Dr. Clark, an English teacher from Cambridge. At last year's event commemorating the 120th anniversary of the Rugby Football Club's founding, the doctor's granddaughter, Heather, came to Japan despite her advanced age, watched the Waseda-Keio Rugby Games, and socialized with those involved at the celebration. She apparently lived in Kobe with the doctor and her family during her girlhood and knew about Keio.

I see. For the Keio Athletic Association, I want them to practice hard and acquire dignity and discipline, even if they aren't that strong. Especially in rugby, it's a world where your alma mater matters. I suspect it's the same in Britain.

At Keio, in any sport, it doesn't end when you graduate; we produce quite a few leaders and executive personnel for federations. I think the character built through sports is important.

In my time, it was extraordinary, intense practice, and it felt like "if hitting me will settle it, then please hit me," but there was no corporal punishment at all (laughs).

It is because this is a university that aims to be a source of honorable character. If we send many people out into the world of whom it is said, "People who graduated from Keio are a bit different," wherever they go, it will meet the founder's ideal that Japan will truly become a modern nation with dignity. I want Keio University to work hard on that kind of education from now on.

Yukichi Fukuzawa kept his distance from plays, sumo, and rakugo when he was young, but in his later years, he started a movement to improve Kabuki, wrote Kabuki scripts himself, and formed a friendship with the great yokozuna Hitachiyama. Hitachiyama also preached to his disciples that dignity is important for future sumo wrestlers. I wonder if you have a bit of that DNA as well. Also, physically, Yukichi Fukuzawa was a very large person for that era, so I wonder if that has been inherited too (laughs).

I have great expectations for you to continue creating works that make people think, "Human beings are truly amazing."

Thank you very much. Also, the sequel to "Hanzawa Naoki" will start this spring.

I look forward to it. Thank you very much for today.