Japan, American football, and you

Did everyone have a good Super Bowl Sunday?  I didn't.

Not that I didn't enjoy watching sweet, sweet tears rolling down Peyton Manning's horse-face.  I really loved every second of that.  I just didn't like that, for me, it happened at 8AM, Monday morning.  What an ungodly hour for a football game.

It's tough being a football fan in the 'Pan.  Gone are the lazy Sundays spent lounging in front of a TV with a bowl of nachos and watching a couple of games.  In Japan, being a football fan means choosing between watching a single game or showing up to work the next day resembling something other than John Romero's grizzly depiction of the not-too-distant future.  Games come on late or not at all in Japan.  Sure, very occasionally you'll luck out and get a game coming on around 7PM... I say you will and not I will because I have to work until 9PM every night and I get home just in time for the winning team to take a final knee.

If you enjoy talking football, you find yourself in even smaller company.  So many times have I found myself in this conversation:

Japanese person: So, do you like sports?
Merican: Yeah, I'm a big fan of American football.
Japanese person: Me too!  I love American football!
Merican: What's your favorite team?
Japanese person: I... don't know.

And so it goes.  Not that I'm criticizing Japanese sports fans.  On the contrary.  If you ask a Japanese baseball fan about their team, the tidal wave of stats, roster analysis, and locker-room controversy they'll launch your way will rival an episode of Sports Center in depth and scope (oh God, I just reminded myself of how much I miss Sports Center).

For the football fan in Japan, there is one occasion unparalleled in glory, for whom all reverence and worship is unequivocally due: the Rice Bowl.  The mere mention of its name sets my buttocks atingle with excitement, cheeks quaking in anticipation.  It is the holy grail, the mecca, the pilgrimage, and other religious stuff that all football fans anticipate with the coming of every new year.

The Rice Bowl is played every year on January 3rd.  In the Japanese American football world, there is no championship greater; a true test of mettle between the Japanese club champion and collegiate champion teams.  Although, to give you an indication of the level of skill on display here, imagine the Super Bowl champion squaring off against the Rose Bowl champion and the absolute slaughter that would ensue.  But in Japan, the teams are generally evenly matched.

Watching the Rice Bowl for an intricate chess match between two disciplined, well-coached teams is like listening to John Madden for the insightful commentary.  In both cases, what you're really tuning in for is "I think it's safe to say that we're going to see some FOOTBALL!!"

Remember when the Saints did that gutsy onside kick to start the second half and recovered, swinging the momentum in their favor to start the second half?  The very first Rice Bowl I went to featured--I'm not exaggerating--75% onside kicks.  None of which were recovered.  I have to think play-calling like that stems from the Japanese baseball culture where the sacrifice bunt is a major part of the game.

Runner on first with no outs?  Bunt.  Runners on first and second with one out?  Bunt.  Runner on second with no outs?  Bunt.  Runner on first with two outs?  Bunt that son of a bitch.

Japanese football, same deal.  Only with onside kicks.

That sort of idea, the small gain leading to the big play, is pervasive throughout the Japanese style of game.  In the 2010 Rice Bowl, the Kajima Deers (not Deer, Deers) faced an intimidating 3rd and 28 staring down the barrel of a 13-0 deficit minutes before halftime.  Clearly, if ever a big play was needed, this was the time.  The response?  A five-yard out route that was quickly smothered and resulted in a punt.  Why?  Why?  I propose a new offensive coordinator for the Kajima Deers: anyone who has ever played a full season of any Madden game.  Hell, even Mutant League Football.

For all its faults in terms of quality of play, the Rice Bowl more than makes up for it in spectacle, accessibility, and creepy middle-aged dudes with high-end cameras taking pictures of cheerleaders less than half their age.

Despite the fact that most Japanese people know little about an admittedly rule-heavy game (imagine attending a cricket championship at Yankee Stadium), the Rice Bowl caters to the first-time spectator.  Before the start of the game, Tokyo Dome jumbo-tron displays a 15-minute introduction to the game, explaining in detail everything from the first down, to the positions, penalties, turnovers, and scoring system (a program that aired again on Japanese cable television prior to the Super Bowl).  Penalties are explained to the audience by the announcer on every flag, ensuring that nothing seems arbitrary to the uninitiated football fan.  The Japanese football association goes to great lengths to make the audience feel included in the action.

Often, it seems like the announcer should be the guy down on the field actually making the calls.  The referees' unfamiliarity with the rules is glaring to a regular fan of the American game, with penalties often being incorrectly assessed (or in the case of a team calling consecutive time-outs to freeze the kicker at the end of the most recent championship game, not called at all), and ultimately affecting the outcome of the game.  The past two championships actually wound up in the wrong hands due to sloppy refereeing, but what can you do?  At least it's football.

For the avid fan, the Rice Bowl festivities extend a full day.  Rest assured, American ex-pats starving for football action are invited to binge on their favorite pastime starting from the junior and flag-football championships beginning in the morning, with the main event to follow.  My fianceé came with me the past two years and sat in the stands for seven straight hours, allowing me to get my fix.  And only one of those times did she actually have a ring on her finger.  Keeper material, that one.

For the past year-and-a-half, I've had the unique pleasure of teaching English to a member of the defending champion flag-football team.  He generously got my girlfriend and I a pair of tickets so we could come to the event for free and watch he and his team steamroll their competition and earn a place in the flag-football World Cup game taking place in Canada later this year.  Watching he and his team hoist the trophy after a one-sided, sadistic drubbing is one of the memories of Japan that will last a lifetime.

And to truly test the zoom and high-speed capabilities of the creepy dudes' expensive SLR cameras, the women's championship takes place shortly after the conclusion of the main awards ceremony.  Rest assured, those dudes' arms are going to be very, very tired that night.

From snapping all those pictures and holding those heavy cameras.

(And beating off)

For the past three years, the Rice Bowl has been a staple of my New Year's vacation.  It's difficult to think of somehow ringing in 2011 without the muddled revelry of sloppy, amateurish, high school-level play.

I wonder if the Lions play the Rams next year...