Baseball is Just Baseball
by David Shields
TNI Books

"I learned a long time ago, whether I have a very good day or a very bad day, I never say it. You're better off letting others do that." — Ichiro Suzuki, March 12, 2001

How do you capture the essence of a human being?

Biographers have struggled with the question since the birth of biography itself. Even if your primary goal is to reveal your subject through his or her own words, those words need some sort of context. But, all too often, that context swells into vanities, grandstandings and nattering pet theories. And how does one correct for personal bias? Every viewpoint is subjective, save perhaps that of God — who may or may not exist, and certainly demands a bigger advance than any earthly publisher can provide.

But Ichiro Suzuki, the star right fielder for the stellar Seattle Mariners, might not immediately seem to be a challenging subject of a biography. He's a baseball player, a native of Japan who has made it big in the Majors. And he's young, born in 1973, and hasn't had time to make the sort of impact on the game that old warhorses are eventually celebrated for.

He's not, however, a typical player. According to a recent poll, he's the most recognized human being in Japan (the Emperor is a distant second.) Right now, Ichiro is first in hits (209), fifth in runs (108) and second in stolen bases (46). He was the first rookie ever to draw the most overall votes for the All-Star Game (3,373,035). He's also shockingly low-key, deadpan and thoughtful, exhibiting a discipline and wry wisdom that transcends what Americans have accepted as the norm for their professional athletes.

When writer David Shields came at his subject, he went the pure and minimalist route. Although Shields has written a shortly forthcoming New York Times Magazine article on Ichiro, he assembled "Baseball is Just Baseball: The Understated Ichiro" along much simpler lines than a Times article; this elegantly consistent book of quotations runs a mere 120 pages, stripped of all but the most basic commentary from the author.

Ichiro shines through on the pages of "Baseball is Just Baseball" as the ultimate wry observer, bemused by press attention, grateful for the warmth of his fans, and ultimately philosophical about the game itself. He's focused on process, not results. And he seems to have a pure love of sport that, while filtered through a foreign language and culture, is as absolutely American as anyone in the game.

Ichiro reached high above the wall, caught what otherwise would have been a home run, fell to the ground, did a backwards somersault, adjusted his sunglasses, and then slowly pulled the ball out from under his glove to show that he had caught it. Asked to analyze the play, he said, "It was a fly ball; I caught it."

Ichiro's quotes in "Baseball is Just Baseball" reveal an unpretentious player with an even-keel nature, and an amusing ability to honestly process the game he lives for. But what "Baseball is Just Baseball" doesn't do is tell us how much of Ichiro's attitude is a reflection of his original background in Japanese baseball, or how American commentators and peers would account for his success, or how he fits into the tradition of outsiders becoming part of the American landscape by being brought into the game.

The Ichiro that emerges from the pages of "Baseball is Just Baseball" is a nice guy. He's clever as hell, and has an honesty that would be refreshing in any field, let alone major-league sports. It's just a shame the book is so minimalist itself; with a few more well-chosen words, the gorgeous simplicity of Ichiro could be put more firmly at home within a context readers can truly understand.

But that's okay. Ichiro's a recent arrival on the scene, and Shields' humble book is fitting in its length and scope. By shooting for the purity and cleanliness of lightly contextualized quotes, Shields has put together a book that delivers a straight-up dose of Ichiro to his readers. Future volumes by other writers — some ponderous, pretentious and overwritten, no doubt — can try to tell us what it all means. "Baseball is Just Baseball" is an ethereal joy unto itself.

— James Norton (jim@flakmag.com)