Sal Paradise attended the opening game in Tokyo and sends this report:

As the Red Sox and Oakland A's have their 'real' opening game today, I would like to share with you their surreal opening game in Japan, and my experiences there.

Since coming to Japan in 2003, I have managed to miss both Red Sox world series. As penance for my sins, I acquired (by whatever means necessary -- in this case a pre-reservation) tickets to the Red Sox vs. Oakland home opener. I got tickets to the first game because fewer people were interested in seeing Josh Beckett pitch -- who is he anyway? -- when Japanese hero Matsuzaka's homecoming was scheduled for game two.

As fate, luck, or spite by the powers that be may have it, Beckett couldn't make the trip pushing Matsuzaka up in the rotation, allowing me to 'enjoy' the pitching of Daisuke '3.5 walks/game' Matsuzaka giving me heart palpitations at my tender age.

The game was scheduled to start at 7pm, and I arrived at 6pm to make sure I had time to get beer and food before the actual game started, and to start the betting pool going on whether they would play the Japanese national anthem before the game. The concessions staff had been coached to do their best with the foreign fans and their English, who helpfully attempted to speak broken English in response to my not-so-broken Japanese, managing to mangle my order in a very efficient manner.

Beer and not-what-I-ordered in hand, we got to watch the pre-game show, which looked something like this:

On the surface, it looks like the traditional Japanese dance that it was advertised as. That is, until the hip-hop dancers came out and did the hip-hop version of the traditional Japanese dance. Standing stoically in the back were the Japan-based Army and 7th fleet bands to make a well-rounded group for entertainment.

Once the dancing subsided, the bands played a rousing American number prior to the national anthem of the US. For the longest time, I was convinced the only American flag in the entire stadium was displayed on the giant screen over the bleachers. If you look above that screen, however, and squint, you can see the American flag.

I then started collecting my winnings as the Japanese national anthem was sung by a very loud Japanese woman. The order should have been reversed, as anyone who has heard the Japanese national anthem can attest, it isn't very conducive to a rousing game of baseball. The Japanese fans had their first American baseball moment as the cheering began to erupt well before the song had actually finished being sung, and the Japanese, being good sports, joined in.

The first pitch was thrown by Lou Mori, a former Japanese prime minister. I'm quite sure his first name was Lou, because he was greeted by the Japanese fans with a loud Lou'ing. For those of you unfamiliar with Mr. Mori, he was the former Prime Minister who's first words for former President Bill Clinton were -- in his best English -- "Who are you?"

But then it was time to actually play baseball, which is theoretically what we all came to do.

Matsuzaka led off the game with an out, which was tremendous, as I was convinced he would give a walk. The second batter hit the ball out of the park, which reduced the volume of flash bulbs capturing Matsuzaka's brilliance, and caused him to throw so many balls (walk, hit batter, walk) that the fans started cheering a strike -- any strike -- as if it were a strikeout.

Thankfully, Japanese stadiums are wholly civilized and bring beer to you at your seat so that you can medicate yourself against such eventualities with minimal effort.

As the game continued (and my heart continued to be a-flutter with Matsuzaka's pitching), the Red Sox got a chance to bat. It was around this time that my wife noticed the Red Sox were wearing away uniforms while running out of the 1st base side dugout. Strange indeed. The reasoning was clear when Youkilis came up to bat to loud chants of 'Youuuu...' as if it were Boston. The crowd was predominately Matsuzaka fans, with the foreign fans divided 90-10 in favor of the Red Sox.

Matsuzaka settled down in the third inning (finally), and the crowd started to cheer for him. There were two primary problems with this. First was that we had all been handed 'American Cheer Sticks' before the game. In the first photo above, they are the inflated stick-looking things, used to beat against each other to make loud noises while obstructing vision. I had never seen these outside a Japanese Volleyball match, let alone in America, so it was quite telling that 'American Cheer Sticks' was only written in Japanese.

The other problem was that cheering in both the US and Japan tends to be for the team that is batting, barring strikeout, a fine defensive play, etc. As I said before, the Japanese fans were primarily Matsuzaka fans, so the concept of cheering the batters was ignored in favor of cheering the Japanese pitcher in the process of throwing 8.5 walks/game.

Despite my loud protestations (you're cheering for the wrong team!) in Japanese, followed by angry glares from the wife, there's no stopping the mob, so until Matsuzaka was finally yanked, there was no method to the cheering madness.

I'm torn, really. In Japanese games between Japanese teams, there is a cheering section for each team who conduct a full brass band and sing the songs of each individual player on the team (which change every year, written by committee or somesuch). It's a unique aspect to Japanese baseball games, but it gets tiring the 5th time that player comes up to bat. However, at least they're cheering for the right team, and there's no confusion.

I think the cheer sticks were more obnoxious, but I haven't been to a Japanese game yet this year, so it may be a case of the grass being greener...

Once Manny Ramirez put the Red Sox back in the game, Snyder came out while I was using the facilities, allowing me to smugly return to find that he'd given up a two run home run. With the game close, it being Japan, and Timlin on the disabled list, Okajima came in to the game to many cheers and a return to the disjointed cheering that goes along with cheering the pitcher on every pitch instead of the batting team.

The 7th and 8th innings rolled around and it was a good close game. Everybody really started getting into it, and after Okajima left, a cadre of Oakland fans tried to get the crowd to cheer with them for their team. As the fans, for the most part, had no idea who or why they were cheering, the gambit worked and the stadium started feeling like a real game in the states for a while, with a few cheer sticks, and a very uncoordinated 2-deck attempt at the wave.

Much to my wife's chagrin, they played 'take me out to the ballgame,' which she was later disappointed to learn wasn't a part of the television broadcast.

The 9th saw Huston Street allow Brandon Moss (in for J.D. 'Iron Man' Drew) tie the game with a solo shot, and send the game into extra innings. Oakland and Boston fans across Japan groaned, as they were fighting a battle with broadcast time -- Japan does not believe in broadcasting games to the end, and it was already 10pm. My friend watching at home related to me later, "I think they run out of things to say. If I had to hear that Kurt Suzuki is a third-generation Japanese again, I think I was going to scream." It doesn't help that the announcers were mixing up player names and showing more shots of the broadcast booth and dugout than the actual game.

Red Sox fans across Japan cheered when they saw Manny Ramirez's hit allow the go-ahead run to occur before the broadcast cut out on them, and Oakland fans could hold on to a thread of hope that they came back while the cameras were off. It wasn't to be, however, and the game came to a close.

Another peculiarity of Japanese baseball, which they decided to incorporate into this game, is to select the two heroes of the game, and interview them on field. An eloquent Manny Ramirez. A Japanese 2nd-tier hero in Okajima who got credited with the win. All in all, absolutely inaudible because of the people rushing to the exit.

Which is where all great nights must go. We headed into the crowded Japanese subway system to be sandwiched between drunks and subdued Oakland fans, for a well deserved night's sleep.

Thanks for the report, Sal!