I am a former baseball player.
In my 60s now, I still watch MLB almost every day.
When Shohei Ohtani is playing, I watch nearly every game — live if I can, recorded if I have to.
But something bothers me.
He has started spitting on the field.
Not every time — but often enough that I notice.
That disappointment is all I feel.
Nothing more. Nothing less.
The Field Is a Sacred Place — At Least to Me
I played baseball in middle school and high school.
You bow before entering the field. You sweep it clean. You do not spit on it.
Nobody wrote that rule down. It was just understood.
Forty years later, that feeling is still in my body.
When I see a Japanese player spit on the field, something flinches inside me.
“Is this really okay?” I think to myself.
When Does He Spit?
Because I watch so many games, I notice the pattern.
He tends to spit in frustrating moments.
When he gives up a home run as a pitcher.
When he strikes out at the plate.
Something goes wrong — and then a quick spit onto the ground.
I understand the frustration. I played the game.
But why does it have to come out as spitting?
Maybe It Is Intentional
A thought I cannot shake:
“Japanese players are polite. Disciplined. Well-behaved.”
“They do not spit. They are good boys.”
Maybe he is tired of carrying that image.
Maybe the spitting is his way of saying: “I am not your good boy. I am just a player here.”
Only he knows.
But if that is the reason — that also disappoints me.
He does not need to prove anything. He is already extraordinary.
Being the good boy is fine. It got him here.
I Understand — It Is Hard Not to Change
In American baseball, spitting is normal.
More than normal — it is expected. Not doing it might feel strange.
When you live in that environment for years, you absorb it.
If I spent a few years in the US, I would probably change too.
I admit that.
Come back to Japan for a few months, and it would fade again.
That is just how it works.
Some Have Already Changed
Take Seiya Suzuki. I watch him often.
Same thing. He spits on the field too.
I understand it. The environment changes you. But it still bothers me.
Yoshinobu Yamamoto and Roki Sasaki — I have not seen it from them.
They still look like they have not changed. I hope it stays that way.
To the Younger Players Going to MLB
There are Japanese players heading to the US now.
Kazuma Okamoto. Munetaka Murakami.
I have one honest wish:
Do not forget what the field meant to you in Japan.
Bow when you enter. Keep it clean. Do not spit on it.
Carry that with you over there.
That is my wish — and I have no right to demand it.
But I cheer for them. That is why I say it.
Back Then, I Could Not Even Watch the Senior Players
When the first Japanese players made it to MLB, live broadcasts barely existed here.
Even when they did, I was in the middle of my working years.
No time to watch.
I checked the scores in the news. Caught highlight clips.
That was all I got.
So I do not know exactly how those senior players behaved on the field.
But I have no memory of anyone spitting.
After I retired, I started watching MLB properly.
Now I watch Ohtani almost every game.
Maybe that is why the change is so visible to me.
I Have Never Met Him. So Why Does It Bother Me?
I have never shaken his hand. Never spoken to him.
I am just a guy in his 60s, watching on TV.
Who am I to say anything?
But I have watched for years. One season after another.
When you watch that closely, you notice small changes.
Small gestures say something about where a person is now.
I Still Cheer for Him. Just Disappointed.
I am not watching him as a god.
I watch him as one baseball player. With his strengths, his flaws, and his changes.
The spitting is a small thing, maybe.
But small gestures tell you where someone is.
I still cheer for Shohei Ohtani.
As a 60-something fan who has watched from the beginning — I am just disappointed.
That is all.
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