Take me out to the ball game

After our last attempt to catch a Tigers game was washed into a storm drain somewhere, we were intensely paranoid of a repeat performance; we spent the better part of the last week playing "what's the time Mr Wolf" with weather websites. Fortunately Friday was a notably sunny break in a string of dreary wet season weather, so we had ourselves a game. Not just any game, mind you - a long-standing grudge match between the Tigers and the Giants to determine who was placed where on the ladder. We showed up to Koshien Stadium at about 5 closely followed by the contents of the greater Osaka-Kobe area, who had all dressed in their best stripey pajamas for the occasion.

Suddenly, fans! Millions of them!

As usual, I made a new best friend on my way out of the station who asked if I was a fan of Murton, a redheaded American player who I'd only recently heard of. My "no" was interpreted as "yes, the biggest ever", which prompted a high five and a spirited one-way discussion of his prowess all the way to the ticket gate. Once I had managed to untangle myself from the enthusiastic limbs, I caught back up with Lisa at "the big beer can", where everyone was starting to gather. While there, we started on beers and snacks from the convenience store and waited for the stragglers. Koshien seems to be the good-natured bogan capital of the area and I think I saw more fake nails and huge hair in that 20 minutes than I had in the preceding year.

I wonder where all my money went

By this stage we were ticking dangerously close to the 6 o'clock start time, so we made our way toward the gate. Everyone but Len had made it at this point - his attempt to make a 1 hour journey in 30 minutes had predictable results - so I volunteered to stay outside to wait for him. I stood patiently with a can of beer and my camera, watching people hurry by and listening to the roar of the crowd. The fans are nothing if not dedicated - merchandise stalls and official shops fill the area and nearly everyone is in a jersey or tiger ears. Once Len showed up (in his Murton jersey), we headed over to the gate where staff were busily pouring people's beer into big paper cups - bottles and cans are banned inside. Fortunately I only had one left by this stage - I'm not sure how you'd go trying to juggle a six-pack's worth.

Who are you guys going for?



The ten of us were jammed into seats in left field, next to some rambunctious middle aged fans who took an instant shine to Len, convinced that he was Murton or at least that the appearance of his doppelganger was a good omen for the game. Like everyone else, they were enjoying the excited atmosphere of the packed stadium and it was hard not to get caught up in it.

I may have been encouraging them slightly

Good omen or not, the Tigers seemed to be playing extremely well despite one of my old teachers insisting that they and the Giants were both fairly rubbish this year. Around the 5th innings the Tigers were ahead, but Len decided to put the last few nails in the Giants' coffin. He left to go get some food and hilariously on cue, Murton came out to bat as he disappeared down the stairs. The old men were excited.

"We're excited"

Murton cracked the ball and took off like a man on fire, getting himself and approximately 27 team mates home much to the delight of the crowd. As he walked triumphantly off the field, a slightly confused Len re-emerged and was given a hero's homecoming. It was pretty clear the Tigers had clinched it, thanks to him.

That's a good few balloons

At the top of the 7th innings, Koshien has a tradition where everyone in the stadium blows up jet balloons and lets them go simultaneously, resulting in a cacophony of party-whistle sounds and flying colours. If I ever wondered what thousands of balloons look like from a distance, those days have passed. It actually ended up happening twice because it's repeated if the Tigers win the game. I held my own drunken mini-celebration in between where I blew another one up and let it go horizontally across the crowd; this resulted in at least 12 people looking at me in abject horror, wholehearted amusement or a mixture of both. The balloons were blown up again long before the last Giant struck out.

It's OVER

As the last of the roars died down, the crowd poured out of the stadium and headed to a nearby underpass, where it's customary for the winning fans to go completely insane and sing the Tigers song very loudly. We joined in for a bit, then everyone went their separate ways to celebrate however they saw fit. About half of us decided lots and lots of pizza was the way to go, so we headed back into Sannomiya for a post-match munch and debrief. It's the first time I've seen the Tigers win and hopefully not the last - it might be time to start combing the ticketing websites for another lucky find. And to find some stripey pajamas of my own.

Maybe not quite like this