Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: TUESDAY, July 4, 1995 TAG: 9507050101
SECTION: SPORTS PAGE: B-1 EDITION: HOLIDAY
SOURCE: Los Angeles Daily News
DATELINE: LENGTH: Long
At first, the question was whether a Japanese import with a quirky delivery, who was not even regarded as his country's top pitcher, could compete in North America's major leagues.
Now, the question is whether that player can help save the major leagues.
Hideo Nomo, the 26-year-old right-hander with the whirling delivery, jaw-dropping forkball and increasingly prevalent impish smile, has exceeded even the Los Angeles Dodgers' most outlandish expectations in the first half of his first season in the National League.
``He's been awesome,'' said Tommy Lasorda, the Dodgers' manager. ``He's been just overpowering. When we evaluated his ability in spring training, we thought he could win. But he's made a few adjustments and has become out-standing.''
Nomo's June made Dodgers executives swoon. He became the first Los Angeles pitcher to win six games in a month since Orel Hershiser in September 1985. In six June starts, Nomo went 6-0 with a 0.89 ERA, giving up five earned runs and striking out 60 in 501/3 innings.
He also broke a record first set 33 years ago by Hall of Famer Sandy Koufax, as he rang up 50 strikeouts in a four-game span. Koufax fanned 49 in four games three times in his career.
``Right now, he's our go-to guy,'' said catcher Mike Piazza, who will join Nomo on the NL All-Star team for the game July 11 in Arlington, Texas. ``He's really something special.''
But by proving to be more Koufax than curiosity, more Nolan than novelty, Nomo inadvertently has cranked up the pressure on himself. Now, in a year in which he already is adjusting to a new country, a new culture, a new language, a new team, a new league and a new manager who is about as far from the stoic Japanese stereotype as one can get, Nomo faces yet another challenge:
He's the new savior of major-league baseball.
It's not an official appointment, of course, nor one Nomo recognizes or desires. But in a year when big-league attendance is down 25 percent from 1994 figures, a network television agreement has collapsed and there still is no resolution to the game's ridiculous and self-destructive labor standoff, league officials, TV marketing executives and baseball media are tripping over themselves in pursuit of the breath of fresh air Nomo represents.
``He's an attraction, because there is both talent there and an unusual story,'' said Dodgers executive vice president Fred Claire, who at the behest of internationally minded team president Peter O'Malley signed Nomo on Feb.12 for $2 million, a record signing bonus for a rookie amateur or foreign free agent.
``Baseball needs attractions. Like [Carlos] Perez of Montreal. That's him. That's the way he is. Baseball has always had those personalities. But it all starts with the talent.
``It's like when [former Detroit pitcher] Mark Fidrych was talking to the ball. If he didn't get anybody out, he would have been doing that at Toledo or someplace.''
An All-Star is born
So if baseball and its television bedfellows decide having Nomo start the All-Star Game would make for good theater and better ratings, the Dodgers won't complain. After all, it could only help their already brisk business of Nomo souvenirs being hawked at Dodger Stadium.
``I would go for Hideo at the All-Star Game,'' Claire said, smiling. ``He gets my vote.''
Nomo, however, is displeased with such talk. He also is uncomfortable when asked about his soaring popularity and baseball's expected intention to feed off it as it struggles to present positive symbols to the public.
``The biggest surprise to me was in Vero Beach [Fla.] during spring training,'' Nomo said through interpreter Michael Okumura. ``The major-league players came to a meeting with the general manager, Tommy Lasorda and the coaches to talk about the fans, `How can we bring back the fans?'
``We gave opinions, everybody, at the same level. That was great. That kind of meeting, we never had in Japan. It was wonderful.''
But when Nomo finds himself being hoisted to a different level to help mend damage from a strike he had no part of, the joy fades.
``My philosophy is it's a different feeling of responsibility, bringing back the fans,'' Nomo said. ``I believe professional athletes should enjoy themselves most of all. I want the fans to enjoy that I'm playing, and as a result I can earn money. The situation is very complicated this year, but it's different from that other responsibility.''
Nomo stressed that he enjoyed the support of fans who have turned out with painted signs, faces and even chests bearing his name or words of support - in English and Japanese. But he did not want to discuss the possibility and importance of his expected All-Star role prematurely, for fear of causing ``overexpectations'' from fans.
``It brings complications to the relationship between me and the fans,'' he said. ``If I talked about it and didn't start the game, maybe fans become disappointed. I want the press to write the truth and avoid some mistakes. I don't appreciate speculation.
``I don't know how big an honor it would be for me. If I have it, I will feel something then.''
Nomo's success - six consecutive victories, a 6-1 record and 2.05 ERA and the NL strikeout lead after 12 starts - has attracted other unwelcome burdens, as well.
Nomomania has gained momentum with each successive start, bringing the inevitable comparisons to Fernandomania. That 1981 delirium gripped the baseball world and Los Angeles in particular when Mexico's Fernando Valenzuela burst upon the scene and won eight starts out of the chute, with seven complete games and a 0.50 ERA.
Valenzuela went on that year to lead the league in innings pitched (1921/3), strikeouts (180), shutouts (eight) and complete games (11), and became the first player to win the Rookie of the Year and Cy Young awards in the same season.
Nomo clearly has a shot at becoming the second, though the prospect doesn't seem to excite him.
``I know people like to compare me to [Valenzuela] because the phenomenon was very similar to what I'm doing now,'' Nomo said. ``I only watched him pitch 14 years ago, when I was 12 years old. That's all I know about him.''
Valenzuela, however, said he finds Nomo's attempt to repeat history thrilling.
``Of course,'' said Valenzuela, now 34 and pitching out of the bullpen for the San Diego Padres. ``He's getting a lot of attention. I think that's going to be good for baseball. Right now, the players have to try to do our best for the fans, and he helps with the way he's pitching.''
Valenzuela also can relate to Nomo's predicament, being caught up in a media frenzy stirred mostly in a language he barely understands and still cannot speak.
Valenzuela spoke very little English early in his career. And what he did understand, pride prevented him from attempting to convey, for fear of embarrassing himself by saying the wrong thing.
But, as in Nomo's case, the language barrier was not a complete shield. There were enough Spanish-speaking reporters around then - as there are Japanese reporters traveling with the Dodgers today - to ensure media demands never completely vanish.
``I don't know if that makes it easier or worse,'' Valenzuela said. ``You still have to talk to the press [through an interpreter]. But it's good when you understand everything, because then you can express your own feelings.''
The demands for Valenzuela interviews reached such a point in 1981, the Dodgers had to fly him in ahead of the team to many cities, conducting one pre-series news conference, then cutting off access. So far, the Dodgers have not been forced to make the same arrangements for Nomo, but the demands are growing.
``For me, that was real hard,'' Valenzuela said. ``Sometimes you don't feel part of the team. But, you're never going to pass through those moments again. It was hard sometimes, but now I'm glad. I enjoyed those days.''
Winning translates
Okumura, who in Los Angeles drives Nomo to and from the ballpark and the pitcher's apartment each day (Nomo's wife and young son are back in Japan), said Nomo also seems to be enjoying himself more lately.
``In Vero Beach, I think he was very anxious,'' Okumura said. ``He had all these questions: `What could I do for the team? Could I be in the rotation? Do I have to go to Triple-A if the strike continues? Can I make the 28-man roster?'
``Now, he's got a friend, he starts to win, has a good record. I think this is his happiest time in the last few years. I don't know how it was for him in Japan, but I hear things that he's happier now. He's really enjoying it.''
To hear that friend, the Dodgers' other hot young starting pitcher, tell it, Nomo has had a double impact on Los Angeles' starting rotation.
Ismael Valdes, 21, has become Nomo's confidante and protege, the Boy Wonder to Nomo's introspective Batman. They were a combined 11-1 with a 1.66 ERA in June, and Valdes credits Nomo with helping him emerge.
``We talk about pitching a lot,'' Valdes said. ``I sit next to Nomo during games, and if he says something I don't understand, we ask his interpreter. He taught me the way he would pitch and I listen and take what works for me.''
So far, the communication and the execution have been successful. Nomo only wishes it could be left at that.
``Every time [I'm interviewed], people ask me about pressure, the cultural differences, how I adjust,'' Nomo said. ``I don't change myself to anything. It's baseball. I concentrate on winning the game, and my attitude is the same as it was on my first start. It's going to be the same attitude.
``The moment I won a game [has been the best experience so far]. That's the best feeling, no matter where I am. In Japan, I was just as happy to get wins. The reason I came here is not because the wins are different.
``The most important thing is to win.''
by CNB