If
IF
The journey was coming to an end; he didn’t know how long the body would keep producing, even thinking at one stage that the journey had ended. But then theHyakujuu Shinkansen had come-a-calling. He’d become a free agent at the start of the year when the Kure Arsenal had decided they wouldn’t be offering him a contract extension; a few phone calls by his agent hadn’t turned up any offers, with most replying “too old.” The Hyakujuu Shinkansen had been one of those teams, but things had changed in Hiroshima: they had a new GM, a GM whose pitching staff were struggling, a GM clutching at straws. And Hideo Sanu was another straw he was clutching at.
He sat alone in the Genesis Park locker room home of the Shin Seiki Evas; he always liked to arrive early before a game to clear his head without interruption. As he sat there he took his wallet out of his pocket and opened it. He wasn’t much into superstition, but he always liked to look at the photo of his wife before pitching in a game. Alongside the photo was a scrap of paper; it had turned yellow with age and the writing had faded, but he knew what it said by heart.
If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:
He’d had a few job offers but no offers to continue his playing career. Instead the offers were coaching ones. It looked like everyone had agreed that his playing career was at an end, but two people still believed in him. One was his wife, the other his biggest fan: his father. His mother had died giving birth to him and he’d been brought up by his father; he felt that his wife had to stand by him but his father was different, his father had always been honest about his baseball career. So when his agent had called him informing him that the Hyakujuu Shinkansen had offered a contract, the first person whose advice he had asked for was his father. His father believed he had one maybe two good seasons left in his arm, so he agreed to sign with the Shinkansen.
If you can dream – and not make dreams your master;
If you can think – and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools:
It was a day he would never forget: his second outing with the Shinkansen. He’d made his Hyakujuu debut against the Neo-Tokyo Akira a few days ago and wasn’t happy with his performance, as he walked the only hitter he faced. This time it was different though, as he could hold his head up high. The team had lost but he’d pitched three innings, giving up only one run. It could have been better, but two games and only one run given up after months without pitching. The Shinkansens managerHisashi Fujii had walked to the locker room with him after the game; he had asked Hideo how his arm felt and when he replied it still felt good Fujii informed him that he would be starting against the Shin Seiki Evas. The joy would be fleeting though, as only moments later he was called again into the manager’s office. His wife on the phone relaying the news that his father had passed away.
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’
On Thursday, July 26th, just 48 hours after learning that his father had passed away, Hideo Sanu started his first game in nearly two years. The last time he had started a game was back in 2016 for the Niihama-shi Ghosts, a start that ended in defeat. This time, however, somebody must have been watching over his shoulder; he pitched seven innings of shutout baseball in a 2-0 win against the Shin Seiki Evas. The Evas had been looking for a clean sweep against the Shinkansen after winning the first two games at home. Not only would he go onto shut out the Evas; he would shut out the number one offense in the Shining Star. Asked by a reporter after the game what emotions he was feeling, Hideo Sanu simply replied: “I became a man today.”
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
‘Or walk with Kings – nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And – which is more – you’ll be a Man, my son!
The poem is “If” by Rudyard Kipling. Hideo Sanu’s father was an English teacher in Japan and had given him the poem when he was leaving to join the New Orleans Trendsetters in 2007 for his first shot at the majors. He had been given the opportunity by his manager not to pitch in the game; he wanted to pitch though.
Hideo Sanu’s father lived in Chitose, where Hideo was born. Hideo had asked him on numerous occasions to come and live with him and his family, but his father had refused:“Who would put flowers on your mother’s grave?” On that day, as usual, he had watched Hideo on TV. He took a nap before reporting the news of Hideo’s game to his beloved, departed wife. This time, however, he gave her the report in person.