S, Myself, and "One More Slow Curve" | Hiroyuki Ishida, Dean of the Graduate School of Health Management
2022.01.18
This is my fourth post for the Okashira Diary. It's on a rotation system, but I feel like my turn comes around surprisingly quickly (sweat). I've been bad at writing since I was a child, so it still feels strange to be writing manuscripts like this on a regular basis. I could write things like science reports, which have a somewhat fixed format, relatively smoothly, but I was hopeless at so-called compositions, diaries, and reflection papers. In elementary school, my grandmother was my ghostwriter. My childish excuse was, "There's no need to show my thoughts, feelings, and daily life to others," but I suppose I just didn't like writing (and I still don't). My mother was convinced it was because I didn't read enough. It's true that from elementary school, I was always watching TV and neglected reading. I have almost no memory of reading any of the so-called classic novels. At the time, the Yochisha (elementary school) of the affiliated schools I attended held an annual "Good Book Exhibition," which provided an opportunity to purchase quality books on campus. My exasperated mother bought me "I Am a Cat" (by Natsume Soseki). Unfortunately, after reading just the first sentence, I handed it back, saying, "I'm not interested in a story narrated by a cat," and never opened its pages again. My mother must have felt hopeless.
The first novel that moved me was "And Then" (by Natsume Soseki). It was featured in my high school textbook. The story, centered on Daisuke, who lives as a man of independent means, depicted a sentimental love triangle between a man and two women, written in a restrained and clear prose. In addition, the elegant commentary by my modern Japanese language teacher, Mr. Minagawa, which read between the lines, struck a chord with me, and I remember being impressed by the subtleties of literary interpretation. It is quite strange that the work of the same Natsume Soseki was what made me reject reading and also what awakened me to it. I suppose my developing sensibilities, the novel "And Then," and my encounter with Mr. Minagawa all came together perfectly in my classes at Jukuko (Keio High School). I am still truly grateful to Mr. Minagawa.
Since then, reading has become a relatively familiar habit for me. I liked the works of Soseki and Dazai, but as I also became absorbed in sports around this time, I also enjoyed reading sports nonfiction, which was still in its infancy. If I were to name one book from that genre that I would want to pass on to future generations, it would be "One More Slow Curve" by Junji Yamagiwa. It is a collection of short stories that includes "Enatsu's 21 Pitches," a story known to any baseball fan from the Showa era. This masterpiece, starting with the title story "One More Slow Curve," sometimes calmly, sometimes lyrically, tells of the lives of athletes who were not necessarily star players but had captivating dramas that went beyond just winning and losing. He also left behind other gems, such as "Run, Boxer, Run," a story about Katsuyuki Ohashi, the brother of former world boxing champion Hideyuki Ohashi (current chairman of Ohashi Gym). Sadly, Mr. Yamagiwa passed away in 1995.
By the way, it was my classmate S who recommended "One More Slow Curve" to me. S's father and my father were in the same class at both the Army Officer's Academy and the Juku School of Medicine, and we, their sons, had a strange connection of being classmates since Yochisha. S was a bold character who, after spending six years at Jukuko for various reasons, went on to Nippon Sport Science University with the achievement of being an All-Japan amateur boxing champion. My path ended up being quite different, as I went straight to the Juku School of Medicine, but even so, S and I spent a great deal of time together during our student days, both in sports and for fun. Starting with sandlot baseball in junior high, we did skiing, boxing, mahjong, billiards... Looking back, we did a lot of reckless and mischievous things, but on the other hand, I think my life would have been quite boring without S. I had lost touch with S after we started working, so when I saw him at the 2020 Tokyo Olympics, I felt like I had encountered an endangered species. Many of you may remember Sena Irie, who won Japan's first gold medal in women's boxing. It was none other than S who was in her corner as her coach. I learned that he is currently coaching the Nippon Sport Science University Boxing Team alongside his main profession and has been training Sena Irie, who is still a student. I imagine S's life has not been a smooth, predictable path, but he must have used his experiences to guide her to the top. More than Sena Irie's gold medal, I was happy to see S's success.
This February, I will be participating in the Beijing Olympics, this time in a position to support the athletes. Although we took different paths, I feel a truly strange sense of fate that friends who spent their formative years together have reconnected after so many years with the Olympics as a common language. Perhaps this is also a sublimated form of the *jinkan kōsai* (interpersonal relationships) fostered at Keio University.