Vegalta: Soccer, Tsunami and the Hope of a Nation

On 5th March, 2011, I was in Osaka to watch Gamba Osaka kick-off the 2011 J League season against local rivals Cerezo Osaka. Six days after the home side's 2-1 win, the Tohoku Earthquake struck, delaying the season for a month. Gamba went on the finish third that season, followed in fourth by Vegalta Sendai, a relatively recent addition to the J League Division 1 surprising against the odds: The team from the region most impacted by the resulting tsunami.

Douglas Hurcombe and Geoff Trodd's documentary tells the story of the team rising from recently promoted no-hopers to league runners-up the following 2012 season, naturally serving as a metaphor for the people of the local community overcoming natural disaster to rebuild their lives.

This story is split into three parts: To start, the story of the earthquake and tsunami themselves, with interviews from local Vegalta fans that had their lives torn apart by the disaster. Secondly, the focus shifts to the re-start of the J League season in the aftermath, with Vegalta's away trip to Kawasaki Frontale their first match. Going a goal down, the Vegalta side, backed by their emotional fans complete a fairy-tale comeback to win 2-1 in the final minutes. The concluding part looks at the 2012 season, the Vegalta players and fans having played their part in helping to rebuild the community, raising money and going out to various towns and villages in the area. Though perhaps their biggest contribution to the community was building on the club's most successful campaign of 2011 to go one step further, nearly taking the title itself.

Much is made of the Tohoku people's stoic, 'country-bumpkin' mentality and how this benefited them in the aftermath of the disaster. Indeed, the fans interviewed who had family members and friends killed show a coming to terms with what happened, emphasised by their desire for the Frontale game to go ahead, fans turning up in their thousands only weeks after their homes were destroyed; and the emotional season-closing message from the then manager, Makoto Teguramori.

A relatively low-key documentary by a British-based group, this recalls Neil Cantwell and Tim Grabham's 'KanZeOn', a documentary about traditional Japanese music. Focusing largely on interviews with the fans, players and manager involved, and Gary Lineker, it keeps things relatively simple and doesn't force sentimentality on what is an emotive subject. Any emotion intended is from a largely punk soundtrack, to reflect the more boisterous aspects of Japanese football fan culture.

Up until 1992 when the J League formed, football teams, very much like baseball teams in Japan, were owned by companies. The formation of the professional J League was to eliminate this corporate association, with teams to be named after their location and form a bond with the local community. Enthusiasm, as Gary Lineker testifies to, was big among fans.

Vegalta Sendai, founded in 1988 as the Tohoku Electric Power Co. Soccer Club, were part of a J League expansion, switching to the professional league in Division 2 in 1999 under their current name. However, due to limited success, the team struggled to gain any great affinity with the local community. Though being established in Division 1 from 2010 onwards and the 2011 earthquake created this bond, with the Vegalta success giving the community a distraction, an inspiration and a wider sense of community.

The complete fairy tale ending would be that Vegalta would have won the 2012 season, around only eighteen months since the disaster itself. Though this was not to be, Sanfrecce Hiroshima taking that honour. Though, unlike the Leicester City story (Gary Lineker's interview clearly done before last season's victory), their failure makes the story more human, and puts the perspective back onto the community itself and how far they had been able to come in such a short period of time. 

Every 14 Days...(22)

Metamorphosis and Other Stories (Franz Kafka)

'Metamorphosis' is one of those famous stories that everyone knows of, but has it actually been read? Well, I hadn't read it. But now I have. Packaged with other shorts and musings, this is a mixed collection of writings, with, for me, moments of brilliance juxtaposed with moments less entertaining.

This collection starts with 'Contemplation', an interesting set of short moments that seem to link together in the life of the narrator, developing as they go along. 'The Rejection' is a good moment of comedy and works as one of the stronger works in this collection.

'Metamorphosis' itself is an interesting tale of changing, possibly inspired by Kafka's own burden on his family, and shows a sense of isolation that his change brings him. Wanting to still be part of his family and continue as normal, despite his now being a different creature, Gregor Samsa is instead shut away by his family as he has to come to terms with his new position in the changing family.

The other works here are mixed in the level of entertainment they gave me. Some are strong works, while others are ones that I simply did not get into and was quite happy to complete. Perhaps the timing of reading this didn't help having completed other short stories recently and characters and situations ever changing leading me to struggle to care for some.

The work is a classic and adds to the sense of Kafka's writing of change and man's struggle against systems that hold them.

Days to read: 17

Days per book: 15.2

Colourless Tsukuru Tazaki and his Years of Pilgrimage (Haruki Murakami)

You can say that I came to Murakami late, reading my first of his works, 'Dance, Dance, Dance', after most of what he's written had already been translated and released in English. Most of my reading of his books, therefore, has been playing catch-up, gradually making my way through them over a period of a few years.

Having made my way through all of them, 1Q84 was the first of his novels that I actually anticipated being released, and bought pretty much on the day of release, all three of them! And now his next, new, long-winded titled novel is one that I anticipated, pre-ordered and read, almost instantly. But whereas before I read his books for pure pleasure, now they arrive with the expectation to at least match what came before - something which rarely happens.

Character-wise, the man of the title is classic Murakami: a self-conscious single man, unsure of his place in the world, experiencing the odd sexual encounter here and there. Now approaching middle age, looking back on his teenage years and his tight-knit group of friends - all whose names feature a colour - the woman he is currently dating suggests he searches to discover why the group suddenly excluded him...if he wants some more nookie, anyway. With some quicker than lightning research, she locates the four other members of the high school group and thus starts his journey of discovery, or pilgrimage, if you will.

To start, I was quite disappointed. I'm not sure if it was due to other recent reads, but I initially found Philip Gabriel's translation just a little simplified, feeling like it was written by Dan Brown. While I've always liked how Murakami is an easy read, it made me wonder if increasing popularity brought with it a steady dumbing-down of content. But sticking with it, this became less noticeable as the book went on, and it flowed nicely.

It's fair to say that this isn't his best book, probably not even up there among his best. Despite the anticipation, it's a solid effort, like the ones read casually on holiday while working my way through his bibliography. Perhaps it's best just to read  as you find it, skipping the anticipation part altogether. Though this one did come with some 'adult' stickers, which made me feel very grown up. And no doubt, I'll be pre-ordering my copy of 'The Strange Library' when released later this year...I never learn.

Days to read: 16

Days per book: 15.2

Japanese Rules (Sebastian Moffett)

This is a book written to be read by me. Let's just look at the full title in a little more detail: 'Japanese Rules (oooh, Japanese): Why the Japanese needed football (oooh, football) and how they got it (oooh, sociological)'. Bought for me by my fiancée as a birthday present (awwww), I almost immediately started reading this and was 'into it' from the kick-off (a football-based joke there).

While it goes back a little further to set a context, the book focuses on 1993-2002, perhaps the most important ten years in Japanese football's history, or indeed, Japanese history (that's a socio-political joke). With the advent of the J-League in 1993, bringing with it the likes of world renowned toe enthusiast Gary Linekar, Sebastian Moffett charts the rise, fall and subsequent rise of the beautiful game in the Land of the Rising Sun.

But more than just a chronological piece about which fading stars arrived to end their careers on a big pay-day as the MLS now does (it does do this), it tries - as my Masters dissertation failed - to explore how football in Japan was a sign of social change in the country, representing a new Japan ready for the new millennium...and hosting a World Cup.

Football teams were small, and far behind that if baseball in terms of popularity and funds in the 'bubble period' of Japan. The one thing they had in common, however, was that teams were company-owned, taking their names and made up of 'amateur' players masquerading as kaishain, or company employees. Loyalty was to the company, and you did as you were told. With the advent of the J-League in 1993, the premise was a move away from the post-war Japan of loyalty to the company, wanting teams to be named after their locale, supporting their fan bases and having fans show a wild side.

The big name signings, endless company money piled into the League and novelty saw large attendances to start and fans bases built. But in a culture of not questioning superiors, uniformity and following procedures, football didn't really work. Foreign players and coaches alike found team mates unable to make quick, spare-of-the-moment decisions or think for themselves in a sport that loves individual style and flare. The lack of any successful national team saw football's popularity gradually decline, as foreign players and coaches alike struggled to gain any real success.

But 1998 and World Cup qualification in France, alongside a previously unthinkable co-hosting with South Korea planned for 2002, saw something to shout about, and with more teams formed, more experience gained and greater football professionalism, fan bases became established and club identities formed, culminating in Nakata Hidetoshi dyeing his hair.

Football fandom was something new to Japan: being individual, loud and brash, doing outrageous things in public - largely getting naked. Foreign influenced was large, shown in team names and fan styles, with unique atmospheres created, as I have experienced myself. Like football in Japan, this isn't the greatest book ever written, but I love it in my own unique way.

C'mon Verdy!

Days to read: 13

Days per book: 15.1

The League of Extraordinary Hooligans

Once, when in a Tokyo hotel, I was wearing my Japanese shirt when I went to reception. Without saying a word, the bloke working reception walked round to the other side of the check-in desk to see what name I had on the back. Unless the tag was hanging out the back and I had Redknapp on me, there was no name on my shirt.

Yes, the Japanese football fans love their heroes. When going to a Kyoto Sanga match in 2008, they had a ‘hero of the day’ interview with the keeper and the players do laps of honour to their fans at the end of each game. A far cry from the lazy players of the Barclay’s Premier League (or PL as Sky will insist on calling it), barely able to lift their arms to show support to those that have spent a large proportion of their earnings to see those that are paid more than they can imagine.


The J-League is the fans’ league for me. The games are quite rough and tumble, and to an often inconsistent standard, with token failed Brazilians thrown in for good measure. But I don’t go to watch the football; I go to watch the fans.


As in England, the hardcore fans of each team go behind the opposing goals, complete with as many banners, flags, megaphones and drums as they can carry. Everyone to a man will be decked in the club colours and will be in the stands well before kick-off, performing the countless songs and choreographed routines that are at their disposal. It almost feels like you will need to audition to earn your place in the end stands, how unified they are; God knows what you have to do to be one of the blokes holding a megaphone?! Each have nicknames blazed across their banners in the club colours, such as ‘Sledgehammer Bros’ (Gamba Osaka) and my personal favourite ‘Hardcore Naked’ (Kyoto Sanga).

Today, I went to my third J-League match to see local boys Tokyo Verdy take on Thespa Kusatsu. 3,008 were in attendance at the Ajinomoto Stadium, which holds 50,000. Yes, times are hard for the double champions from the 90s, now languishing in J-League Division 2 in a ground they share with local rivals FC Tokyo who are currently featuring in the Asian Champions’ League. They’re sort of the equivalent of West Ham, except they play in an Olympic-like stadium…wait a minute…

But in a stadium only 6% full, there was a noise constant and loud enough to cause tinnitus. The continuous chanting, banging of the drum and megaphone rousing lasted for the full 90 minutes, rarely letting up. Even the small number of Kusatsu fans, who’d made the relatively short journey, still were able to sound like an opposing army preparing for battle across no mans’ land, despite their side’s 2-0 defeat.





There is little silence, few moans and groans and even the losing team will get a nice send off. Sod the mascot racing, each J-League team should put forward their fans for a battle of the bands style showdown. There’s even a respectful applause from the opposition when a chant draws to a close. That’s what this league’s really about. Fans here support their club; we just watch ours in England (and sometimes Wales).


And what's more, you can take beer in.

Gamba Osaka vs Cerezo Osaka

Film of the Gamba Osaka 'Sledgehammer Bros' before the opening game of the J-League season. Second city derby against Cerezo Osaka, so they were in fine voice. Kept it up for about 90 minutes. Though not sure how many more J-League games there will be this season just now...