Reactions to Crowd Disturbances in the J. League

First published on UK Ultras, May 2nd 2013 in response to crowd trouble at Urawa vs Shimizu.

After last weekend’s trouble at Urawa v Shimizu I found myself, against my better judgment but with morbid fascination, sucked in to YouTube’s comments section. While it was the inevitable car crash of bitching and name calling, I also picked up on a recurring theme of discussion. It was at once fascinating but ultimately disturbing. A number of comments sympathising with the Urawa cause, while predictably attempting to shift the blame, were at the same time suggesting Shimizu supporters not only caused the initial exchanges, but actively ensured their escalation.

To recap, shortly after S-Pulse’s traditional post game celebration, several Urawa fans arrived next to the away enclosure shouting, gesturing and demanding an end to the festivities. In response, a chorus of Kingdom Shimizu rang out. After the majority of S-Pulse fans had left the ground, 150 home fans blocked a remaining group of fifty in the stadium for over four hours. The reason given in holding these people captive, one frequently repeated online since, is that S-Pulse supporters were “unreasonably happy” in their celebrations and as such failed to respect the home team.

No, you read that correctly. Unreasonably happy and failing to respect the home team. Perhaps the home supporters are uniquely thin skinned, but the travelling support did nothing most normal people would consider as a display of disrespect. Two different chants were sung, neither mentioning Urawa. The first, the regular S-Pulse victory dance, the second Kingdom Shimizu. Kingdom Shimizu is a song which gets an airing after beating Urawa, an area traditionally rivals when claiming the heart of Japanese football, or local rivals Jubilo Iwata. 

A genuine show of “disrespect” could have taken the form of obscene messages aimed at the home team (as Kashima once did against Urawa), damaging the home team’s flags (as Urawa once did at Shimizu’s Nihondaira), or taking the singing outside the stadium. Any of these would have been an act of aggression, but none of these were the case. In approaching a jubilant away end demanding silence, was there ever going be an outcome besides heckling and triumphant chanting with renewed gusto? Not on this planet. The travelling hoards acted as any football fans should, and a minority of home fans had a temper tantrum.

Returning to the argument levelled at to Shimizu fans, if you follow that particular logic it leads us on to some very shaky ground. Home fans blockaded the away zone because they were unhappy, firstly with the away fans’ delight at victory, and subsequently at their refusal to be quiet. Pretty spurious grounds by which to forcibly restrict people going home you may think, and you would be right, but who was there to stop them? Nobody. For four hours the issue went unresolved. No police presence was brought in to remove the law breakers and free those trapped. 

What possible reasoning there was for not requesting police assistance, who can say? Avoiding publicity? Unwillingness to admit a loss of control? We’re left merely to speculate, but in not confronting the aggressors Urawa acquiesced to mob rule. You can be certain this incident will be repeated, the mob’s confidence bolstered. Indeed, this wasn’t even the first time this has happened at Saitama Stadium, and who knows what ever-more flimsy provocation will be cited as justification next?  “How dare the away area keep not quiet during our team announcement?” “Who do they think they are beating us is in such an important game?”

The reality is you can’t put any restrictions on any supporters’ freedom in cheering, and if you try to you can kiss all atmosphere goodbye. Violent or genuinely inciteful behaviour aside,  booing, cheering, making a row over the home fans, and most of all NOT shutting up just because your opponents may have hurt feelings are essential to any free and fair football stadium. If after victory Urawa decided to mimic S-Pulse’s victory song I’d say fair play, you’ve earned your moment, enjoy it as it’s your right, rubbing our faces in it as you see fit. There is nothing else you can say. 

The actions of those on Saturday were juvenile in the first instance, but doubly perverse has been the attempts to justify them through ambiguous and loaded, but ultimately meaningless, language such as respect and offence. That the police didn’t disperse the wrongdoers accepts mob rule as a method of crowd regulation. Unless the J. League, still silent on the issue a fortnight on, come down on the ringleaders, not only will the door be thrown wide open for repeats, but a standard will have been established: Our stadium, our rules. Do as we say or accept the consequences, because the law of the land simply doesn’t apply. 

That’s called anarchy, and obviously not a route the J. League wants to start down. As people shamelessly throw around the word respect for their own ends, in burying its head deep in the sand, the J. League runs the risk of losing theirs, and gaining a reputation as a governing body people simply can’t trust to police their league effectively.

Evolution of the J. League

First published on Afshin Ghotbi's official website, April 25th 2013.

The Ever Changing Face of the J. League

The current format of the J. League’s top flight, a single stage, three points for a win, one for a draw, has only been in use since 2005. The preceding two thirds of the league’s history have seen a multitude of formats and different methods of winning. With rumours afoot of more changes, Barry Valder takes a look back at the evolving face of the J. League, and explains why further alterations should be approached with caution.

Pointless Beginnings

The inaugural J. League season was played over two stages but organised otherwise, at least on the surface, conventionally. Teams played each other home and away once each stage. With ten founding members it equated to 18 games per team, per stage; effectively two full seasons of football. The winner of each went head to head in the Suntory Championship to decide the year’s champions.

An early curiosity was the absence of draws. Games were decided, if not within the 90 minutes, then by either an extra time golden goal or penalty kicks. Further quirks included a pointless league system. That is to say, the league table contained no points column. With no 3 for a win and 1 for a draw, teams were ranked simply on wins, followed by goal difference. Points were introduced in 1995, but even then with a spin. Teams could claim the usual 3 for a win, but losing a penalty shoot out would still earn a point. A nod to the oft cited arbitrary nature of penalty kicks. 

Juggling the Numbers

In 1996, with the league expanded to 16 teams, two stages of 30 games each were considered too much, and the year was contested over a single phase. This single season format was short lived. The addition of Vissel Kobe in 1997 saw it abandoned in favour of the preferred two phases, made possible by teams playing opponents once home and once away, but spread over both the two stages.

The points system would also be overhauled, with teams awarded 3 for a win within 90 minutes, 2 for a golden goal victory, and 1 for win in a shoot out. Losers on penalties were no longer recognised for ending 120 minute all square, and received nothing. Additional tweaking in 1999 finally saw draws permitted. Golden goals were maintained as a two point victory, but the spoils were now shared in games ending level after 120 minutes. 

In the first season after the Japan / South Korea World Cup the J. League assumed a largely traditional form. 3 points for a win, 1 for a draw, no penalty kicks and no extra time. The season was still split over two stages, but 2004 would prove the final time. From 2005 there was no longer to be an end of year play off. With the league fought over a single season, the champions were decided simply by points won. 

This change addressed, albeit after the event, the awkward fact that 2000’s best performing team were excluded from the championship play off. Despite winning the most points over the year, Kashiwa Reysol failed to top either stage. As such, they stepped aside as Kashima Antlers, with four fewer points and an inferior goal difference, claimed the title against Yokohama Marinos.

Don’t Go Changing

Citing falling gate receipts, April 2013 saw reports of the league eyeing a returning to a two stage format. The logic runs that an increase in games infused with trophy interest will retain fans is greater numbers. It is easy too to understand the temptations a championship marquee event brings. TV rights and sponsorship deals are an obvious goldmine, with a glamorous winner-takes-all season climax custom made for TV audiences. But a return to reliance on orchestrated drama is a dangerous route to take. Having evolved steadily away from the induced excitement of penalty shoot outs and golden goals, grand final-type events should be viewed beyond their superficial lure. Rather, they need to be evaluated on whether after an entire season’s play they provide a just outcome.

In the extreme circumstance of 2000, Kashiwa Reysol missed out on even a playoff berth, but when both top performing teams did make the playoff, only two from twelve were won by the club with the highest season points total. 1999 saw a discrepancy of sixteen points between finalists.  With Shimizu S-Pulse five wins better off than opponents Jubilo Iwata, it was perhaps inevitable that Iwata would prevail in the playoff. Moreover, the game was decided on penalty kicks; a year of football forgotten as two teams tossed the proverbial coin. The shoot out lottery was repeated in 2004. Urawa Red Diamonds lost to a Yokohama F. Marinos side 3 points and a goal difference inferior in the combined league table.

Just The Way You Are

Faced with a downward trend in spectatorship we must broaden our focus beyond quick fix solutions. The biggest average gates in 2012 were housed in new, covered stadia. With many Japanese football venues still old, uncovered, athletics grounds, the attractiveness to floating customers is immediately limited. Improving the supporter experience is just one long term process to help tackle the issue. Perhaps higher outlay than a competition reformat, but as one of Asia’s best, the J. League should have greater confidence in its pulling power without resorting to manufactured thrills. 

2005’s closing day saw arguably the league’s finest moment. In a remarkable 90 minutes the championship swung repeatedly between several title contenders. At full time the top five were separated by a single point, but a clear champion was crowned. An orthodox league structure, the only true gauge of performance over the year, can at the same time cultivate organic drama beyond any script.

Above all, supporters desire a just outcome. Awarding the title Champions to any team other than the best undermines a competition; far from a solid basis from which to build. Most major leagues follow a uniform format for the simple reason it is fair and it works. Reversing falling crowd numbers is a big task, but perhaps the biggest challenge is to do so without re-inviting question marks over the name engraved on the championship trophy.

The Shizuoka Derby - A History

First published on Afshin Ghotbi's official website, April 9th 2013.

A History of the Shizuoka Derby

On April 13^th Shimizu S-Pulse will welcome Júbilo Iwata to Nihondaira for the latest instalment of the Shizuoka Derby. Barry Valder takes a look back at the last two decades and how they have shaped the development of one of the most fiercely contested games in Japanese club football. 

Remember 1993

With a sporting landscape long dominated by baseball, Japan has often been considered to consist of a number of specific areas where football flourished, relatively free of the lure of the diamond. One of those was Shizuoka prefecture. Before the establishment of the J. League in 1992, the region had a history of success in producing both championship winning high school teams, and a disproportionately large percentage of professional players. It was against this background that when the J. League committee was accepting founding member applications, two teams from the area had their sights firmly set on a prestigious Original Ten spot. 

Based in Iwata city, Yamaha Corporation’s company team had competed in the amateur Japan Football League since the early 1970s. Restructured as an independent professional team in line with J. League guidelines, Júbilo Iwata would find itself beaten to the punch by the newly formed Shimizu S-Pulse. Located an hour east, S-Pulse was formed not with the backing of a major international corporation but through the efforts of local businesses and supporters. This grassroots ethic may have appealed to the selection committee, because it was Shimizu not Iwata who participated in the inaugural J. League Cup in 1992 and the first full season the following year.

The seeds of this rivalry were thereby sown long before a ball was kicked. The frustration that it was Shimizu who enjoyed the prestige and ceremony in being a founding member was immortalised in the Iwata banner REMEMBER 1993. This can be seen to this day in the sky blue end when the teams meet.

Origins and After

The first instalment in what would become the league’s longest consecutively running derby came in the 1993 Nabisco Cup when Iwata journeyed to Shimizu’s new Nihondaira Stadium. The home team would claim a 2-0 win, an outcome repeated when the two came head to head for the first time in the league. On April 6^th 1994, 18000 packed Kusanagi Athletics Stadium’s grass banks for the occasion. Shimizu triumphed again, this time 1-0, but early dominance by the oranges was not to last. The following eight derbies would all go Iwata’s way. 

Shimizu would claim the first silverware of the pair in the form of the 1996 Nabisco Cup, but like their initial signs of derby ascendancy it was to prove a false dawn. Beginning in 1997 Iwata entered a golden period claiming three league titles along with the Nabisco Cup, Emperor’s Cup and Asian Club Championship once each. While Shimizu took home the Emperor’s Cup on New Year’s Day 2002, the imbalance in honours was clear, and Iwata revelled in their supremacy.

This superiority was underlined in excruciating circumstances for Shimizu in 1999. With the season at that time still contested over two stages, Iwata had claimed the first and Shimizu the second. At the end of the year Shimizu sat atop the combined league table sixteen points superior to Iwata. Nevertheless, the two met in the Suntory Championship season climax. All square over two legs, penalty kicks would crown Iwata champions. S-Pulse manager Steve Perryman was openly scathing of Iwata’s style of football and the injustice of the outcome.

(Un)Friendly Rivalry

The label of Silver Collectors is applied to Shimizu with glee by Iwata supporters, exacerbating especially pain at what S-Pulse fans view as the illegitimacy of that second place medal in ‘99. Shimizu is indeed yet to win a league title, and have prevailed in only three of twelve various cup final appearances. An enormous flag unfurled by Iwata supporters in 2006 depicted a giant pair of scales tipped entirely in their favour. The discrepancy in trophy distribution was glaringly obvious, and while the reaction from the opposing end was audible, the statement was ultimately unquestionable. 

The following season the visiting Iwata team bus was greeted at Nihondiara with a level of aggression rarely seen in Japan. The tempest of hostility was audible from the furthest corners of the stadium and resulted in a warning from the league against any repetition. Since then Shimizu fans have taken a more humorous approach. On one occasion they raised a banner emblazoned IWATA, only to be torn open and extended to present the slogan KICK THEIR ASS!  

More recently, inspired by Germany’s Magdeburg supporters, Shimizu fans pointed several vast paper arrows at an oblivious away section, accompanied by a sign reading LOL.

These episodes came as a welcome alternative to the violent scenes which erupted at Nihondaira in 2011. In what may have been a reciprocal effort at humour, an ill advised Iwata banner was aimed at S-Pulse’s new manager Afshin Ghotbi. The resulting scuffles soured the day, and with S-Pulse perversely receiving the greater sanctions, levels of off-the-pitch antagonism reached new heights. 

Statistically Speaking

Since 1993, the Shizuoka Derby has proved one of the most keenly contested in the country. Both teams have enjoyed unbroken spells in the top flight allowing an unparalleled 52 meetings over the last two decades, ten in the cup, the remainder in the league. Of those, Iwata have chalked up 22 victories, seven more than their neighbours. Only five games have finished all square, just two ended goal-less, with the highest scoring derby in 1999 when Iwata put five away to win 5-2. The biggest margin of victory is four goals, at a 5-1 Shimizu league win in 2009, and in an Iwata league cup victory this earlier year. 

The highest gate to watch the Shizuoka face off was 53000 at a brand new Ecopa in 2001. The stadium was initially used by both clubs to stage the derby, but since 2007 Shimizu have opted for the home advantage of Nihondaira over the increased gate receipts. Iwata have persisted with the bigger ground, but in 2013 will stage the league derby at the smaller Yamaha Stadium for the first time in over a decade. 

In recent history, Shimizu claimed a home/away double over Iwata in 2012, the first time in the fixture since 2007 it when it was S-Pulse again who took full honours. Iwata must look back to 2003 for a home/away double, with Shimizu now boasting an unbeaten record at home to their rivals stretching back ten years. 

Real Shizuoka

So what does this all mean ahead of Saturday’s first league derby of 2013, almost 19 years to the day since the first? With every derby day the proverbial cup final, not a great deal, of course. However, current circumstances have Iwata still searching for their first three points over a month into the season. A win for Shimizu could potentially send them to the foot of the table. 

It’s too early in the year to read excessively into league positions, but the longer Júbilo go without a win the greater anxiety will mount on their terraces. Shimizu, who themselves didn’t have a great start to the new season, are showing signs of pulling themselves out of their slump. Recovering from injuries, the team is approaching full strength and will be revelling in the opportunity to increase the pressure on their neighbours. 

Supporters of both sides are aching for a result. As ever, the immense factor of local pride is at stake, but each team is also aiming to remedy their below par league positions. Even this early in the year there is more than enough riding on this game to ensure a tense, edgy but ultimately enthralling new chapter in the Shizuoka Derby’s growing history. You’d be crazy to miss it!

Derby Day in Japan

First published on Afshin Ghotbi's official website and J. Soccer Magazine, April 3rd 2013.

Irrespective of region, culture or history, it’s one of football’s constants. The meeting of two teams sharing a common catchment area can act as the ultimate source of pride or shame. Those 90 minutes alone have the power to overshadow an otherwise positive season, or redeem one otherwise nondescript.

When importing foreign concepts Japan is often happy to tweak and refine, and the derby has proved no different. Attempts to generate interest with billings such as the Orange Derby, Shimizu vs Niigata, two teams sharing a  common colour but 300 miles apart, can be put aside as transparent marketing endeavours. But common to any league is when two or more clubs straddle the same district, the struggle for dominance produces the very best in football drama.

When the J. League began it initially brought with it just one derby. It was however, a triple-header. Yokohama Marinos, Yokohama Flugels and Verdy Kawasaki were all based within a 10 mile radius, vying for both support and Kanagawa prefecture bragging rights. As new teams joined the fledgling league, Japan’s football culture gained a wider spread of geographic rivalries. Founding members Gamba Osaka, Shimizu S-Pulse and JEF United soon had their own local match ups with newcomers Cerezo Osaka, Jubilo Iwata and Kashiwa Reysol respectively. 

The establishment of a second division in 1999, and the realities of relegation, led to some embryonic rivalries being put on ice. The Osaka city and Chiba prefecture face offs have both been on enforced sabbatical at various stages, while conversely, J2 has helped cultivate enmity within the Tohoku derby, contested by Sendai and Yamagata, and Fukuoka derby, between former top flight Avispa Fukuoka and new team Kitakyushu. 

While the invisible hand of promotion and relegation acts as a natural force, a more menacing influence has been felt during the J. League’s short history. Football’s natural order is rarely, if ever, more jarringly disrupted than during relocations or mergers. Between 1998 and 2001 Kanagawa prefecture saw its original trio of derbies forever broken up in those most brutal of circumstances. 

Natural Born Rivalries

At the end of 1998, amidst furious scenes from both sets of supporters, Yokohama Flugels were dissolved into archrivals Marinos. The merger of the clubs, while an unimaginable upheaval for supporters, ultimately proved the genesis of one of the most organic rivalries in the country. Flugels supporters rejected the suggestion from above that they should simply support Marinos, instead choosing to create a phoenix team. Playing at the same stadium and supported by the same people, Yokohama FC can be viewed as a continuation of the Flugels, which the F in Yokohama F. Marinos is purported to represent, and which the Marinos board insisted lived on within their club.

After working up the pyramid, Yokohama FC was in 2007 able to reignite the Yokohama Derby. During an albeit brief spell in J1, the upstarts underlined their arrival by beating F. Marinos 1-0 at Mitsuzawa Stadium, former home of the Flugels. The fairytale was shattered in the return match as F. Marinos trounced FC 8-1. However, with the occasion attracting 54000 spectators, the biggest gate in the derby’s history, the legitimacy of the fixture was without question.

Recent match ups, while restricted to cup meetings, still provide an authentic derby day atmosphere, replete with a mutual sense of superiority. Borne on the one side out of righteous moral struggle, and on the other from a burgeoning collection of silverware, and historical authority.

Tokyo Verdy Kawasaki 1969

Verdy Kawasaki, the third of the original Kanagwa trio, was in 2001 uprooted, moved north to the capital, and renamed Tokyo Verdy 1969. Fans initially flocked to see the team in their new surroundings and a budding derby with FC Tokyo looked set to take root. FC Tokyo had risen from non league to beat Verdy to the J1 punch. Gaining promotion the previous year, they had already managed to carve up the majority of local support. 

After Verdy’s drop to second tier football in 2006 many new followers deserted the team and the capital derby has largely been off the landscape since. Meanwhile back in Kanagawa, Kawasaki Frontale emerged as a natural successor to Verdy, taking up residence in their vacant Todoroki Stadium and forging a rivalry with Yokohama F. Marinos.

Real Shizuoka? 

The longest successively running local face off is contested in the nation’s historical cradle of soccer prowess. Shizuoka prefecture’s players had long been overly represented in both club football and the national team. So, when the J. League was accepting founding member applications, both Shimizu FC and Yamaha Corporation had designs on a prestigious Original Ten spot. That the rechristened Shimizu S-Pulse got the nod over Yamaha’s newly independent Jubilo Iwata is a fact that still continues to wrangle with Iwata fans.

Iwata were accepted into the league in 1994 and each team has enjoyed an uninterrupted spell in the top flight, fostering a healthy rivalry spanning 42 games. A national powerhouse around the turn of the century, Iwata overshadowed Shimizu’s own modest successes, something which was to culminate in 1999. With the season contested over two stages, Iwata had claimed the first and Shimizu the second. At the end of the year Shimizu sat atop the combined league table sixteen points superior to Iwata. Nevertheless, under the rules of the time the two met in the Suntory Championship season climax. All square over two legs, penalty kicks would crown Iwata champions. 

The imbalance in silverware is something which Iwata are eager to remind their neighbours, exacerbating especially Shimizu’s pain at, to their minds, the questionable legitimacy of that near miss in 1999. Reciprocated claims of eminence are the basis of any rivalry, and while recent seasons have consistently seen Shimizu the better supported side, they are yet to trouble Iwata’s trophy haul. Further antagonism was injected in 2011 after an ill advised Iwata banner aimed at S-Pulse’s Iranian-American manager incited violent scenes on the terraces. Perversely, Shimizu received the greater sanctions, adding an additional layer to the tie’s complexity.

The Future

All football fans are familiar with the derby-as-cup-final where anything can and does happen. Urawa Red Diamonds may have the league, league cup, Emperor’s Cup and Asian Champions League all to their name in recent years, but against city rivals, the newer and, as they would happily admit, smaller Omiya Ardija, Urawa have managed a paltry two victories in their last twelve meetings. 

Since 1992 the Original Ten has blossomed to forty, continuing to stiffen the competition for a shrinking number of supporters. J1 ever-presents Kashima and Nagoya currently enjoy big brother relationships with lower league Mito Hollyhock and FC Gifu respectively, but as the years pass by and the balance of power inevitably shifts, who would bet against these family ties one day being strained or broken? 

Marketing departments will by nature attempt to create interest where little exists, but authentic rivalries are rarely the result of anything other than natural evolution. As Inter was born from AC Milan, Yokohama FC sprung from their greatest enemies. Where club origins remain distinct, local cultures generate their own dynamic of antagonism. Cerezo Osaka, not unlike Manchester City, have long claimed to represent their home city more legitimately than their more successful and renowned neighbours.  

Ultimately, the purest process with which to cultivate an explosive derby day atmosphere is the passage of time. Controversial episodes and contentious incidents accumulate gradually over the years to give that crucial needle and edge. As new as the J. League’s derbies may be, many already contain essential back stories of struggle, injustice, pain, and glory. Watching their mythologies and legends expand in the coming decades will be a fascinating journey.

Giving Football a Home

First published on Afshin Ghotbi's official website, Decemeber 31st 2012.

Part of the 2002 Japan / Korea World Cup legacy was a handful of spectacular stadia still familiar to supporters around the globe. Depending on where your country played you will still have one or more you can name. For Englander’s over a certain age it’s the Sapporo Dome and Ecopa Stadium which victory and defeat respectively burned into the public consciousness. But what of the country’s stadia prior to the biggest event in football? 

A self professed stadium nerd, checking off a new ground is almost as much of a highlight as the game I’m there to watch. So when I moved to Japan in 2003, I was in heaven. With a whole new country of unexplored stadia, at the first opportunity I made my way to the closest J. League venue. This happened to be Nihondaira Stadium, the home of Shimizu S-Pulse. A football-only ground nestled in the mountain range of the same name, the view beyond the pitch spread out over Suruga Bay to a snow capped Mt. Fuji. Perfect. 

Unique for the scenery, when the professional league kicked off in 1992 Nihondaira was in a minority of football specific stadia. At the dawn of the J. League there was one type of stadium which dominated the viewing experience, and it wasn’t a good one. As a minor spectator sport for decades before the pro game, football was housed mainly in municipal, multipurpose facilities. This meant every supporter’s worst nightmare. The running track. 

The lion’s share of stadia fell into this category with some remaining in use today. Shonan Bellmare, Sanfrecce Hiroshima and Kawasaki Frontale supporters all still have a hard time making out the far goal, separated from the action and often unprotected against the elements. However, the generic oval athletics ground wasn’t entirely dominant. A second small category of stadia existed and, as the fledgling league got going, steadily grew.

Shimizu’s rivals Jubilo Iwata, who joined the league in 1994, boasted the football only Yamaha Stadium. Kashiwa Reysol, another addition in 1995, brought with them the compact Hitachi Stadium, and while not to host a J1 game for some years, in 1996 and 1997 respectively, Tosu and Sendai cities constructed stadia which wouldn’t look out of place in England’s top flight. 

Kashima Antlers have won seven championship titles at the Kashima Soccer Stadium which, after major refurbishment in 2001, hosted several World Cup games. Which brings us to the third category of Japanese soccer venues; those built or improved for the 2002 event. In 2013’s J1 there will be nine venues either built with mind to, or expanded for, 2002. While not all dedicated football stadia, they are among the best you’ll visit. Airport style automated walkways out in the open air? They’ll transport you part the way between Aino Station and Ecopa Stadium. In-ground escalators? You can use them to reach the higher levels of the huge Saitama Stadium, and the venue of a World Cup final, the vast International Stadium, is a mere fifteen minute stroll from Shin-Yokohama bullet train station.

The 2002 tournament made vast strides in enhancing the spectator experience, which meant a greater chance of retaining casual fans swept up in World Cup fever. In a country traditionally dominated by baseball, football has often been knocked down the list of sporting priorities. Hiroshima city centre houses a major baseball stadium, while J. League champions Sanfrecce play half an hour out of town at a, you guessed it, multipurpose athletics ground. But as the J. League enters its third decade and football becomes more deeply engrained into the nations’ sporting landscape, the trend towards purpose built football grounds continues to gather pace. 

In recent years both Omiya Ardija and Cerezo Osaka spent considerable money on upgrading football-only stadia to J. League standard, despite large multipurpose venues available nearby. Cerezo’s J2 neighbours Gamba Osaka had in 2012 permission granted to construct a new football specific home away from their current Bampaku athletics stadium. Indeed, despite calling the picturesque but largely roof-less Nihondaira their own, Shimizu S-Pulse have expressed an interest in constructing a larger, more spectator friendly stadium to attract and retain fans in greater numbers. 

The once ubiquitous athletics oval, albeit in reduced number, may persist, but up and down the country the fan experience continues to improve. It might be true that uncovered grass banking can still be found at one top flight stadium, but the majority of those clubs still playing at athletics venues are committed, at least in the long term, to creating purpose built football grounds. In a nation where land is at such a premium, and large scale developments face many obstacles, this is heartening news. It displays loud and clear that the state of the game is strong, yet still growing. A situation surely befitting a country which boasts some of the noisiest and most colourful supporters in the world.

On The Road Again... Away Days in Japan

Originally published on Afshin Ghotbi's official website, November 1st, 2012.

Watch any football fan when the upcoming season’s fixtures are published and you’ll witness the same ritual. The long, barren closed season is forgotten as he scours the list, pen in hand,circling the major dates. The match closest to his birthday. The derby. The tastiest looking away days.  Between 1988 and 2003 it was for the Football League’s fixtures I would count down the days for, but since 2004 that excitement has been directed to the J. League’s equivalent.

After checking off derby day and which result my birthday is to be sweetened or soured by, the group emailing begins. For what away trips should preparations begin? Football supporters’ routines remain largely steady wherever you go, but the details are subject to the vagaries of local cultures. This is no more evident than between England and Japan’s take on away games. Getting on the road with your brethren and taking over rival stadiums may be cultural constants, but whereas the game’s birthplace has evolved over a history spanning three centuries, how does it compare to that in a league barely into its third decade?

While England is a mere 400 miles top to bottom, the distance between Sapporo and Fukuoka covers three times that.Whereas most match ups in England are possible as a car day trip, few would consider driving from Tokyo to Hiroshima and back in the same day. Even taking advantage of the bullet train,(if you’ve not had the pleasure, think a plane minus the wings),travelling beyond the central Kanto and Kansai areas and you’re looking at a seven or eight hour round trip. Well if you’re going all that way, why not make a weekend out of it?

Since following Shimizu S-Pulse I’ve made more overnight stays than in fifteen years with Brighton where, as anyone will tell you, a 600 mile day trip is par for the course. Get there, watch the match and get back. Stopping over is a once or twice a season extravagance reserved for a big night out after the game.It’s the exception to the rule, but local tourism in Japan is deeply entwined with the football market.

Domestic travel is a huge industry, with each town promoting its unique food and beauty spots. I couldn’t tell you what Coventry was known for, nor could I for Luton, Sunderland or Birmingham, but Nagoya? Miso. Sendai? Cow tongue. Osaka? Takoyaki. The commencement in 1993 of thousands of people moving around the country each weekend was seized on by the tourism industry. Almost as much as the football, ticking off the local cuisine and seeing the sights is a must. Not forgetting of course to purchase souvenir cookies to distribute at the next home game. Who has ever gone to Newcastle or Birmingham with a list of must-eat items, or made anything other than a most perfunctory of sightseeing excursions? Sampling the local brew is about as far as that practice extends.

Which brings us to the famous British boozer.Any match home or away is centred around it, but often takes on greater importance on the road.Rampaging hooligans may be confined to the history books, but their shadow still casts long over British football, and nobody wants to spend too much time wandering around outside in the wrong colours. When behind enemy lines,the designated away supporters’ boozer is a stronghold to convene and rally the troops ahead of kick off.Japan has a distinctly different drinking culture, and pubs, in the UK sense, don’t exist. What does this mean for the travelling football fan?

A laid back attitude to alcohol coupled with an absence of violent fan history, and no pubs pose small obstacle in creating that mobile base. Rather than heading for a watering hole, supporters merely aim straight for the stadium.They set down tarps outside the away end and break out the six packs. Many arrive hours before the turnstiles open and pass the time drinking and socialising.When the gates are finally unlocked the party is relocated to the stand concourse. Unthinkable in most western football cultures, many stadiums permit store bought alcohol, allowing supporters to craft their own pub-like environment. The unity engendered in a trek over the miles is fostered not in a pub, but with beers and food in and outside the stadium.

After only the lowest profile games in England do I not recall being shepherded en masse to a station or held in while the home fans cleared.You also learn early that this is where colours are best hidden.Concealing shirts and scarves after the game was a habit I naturally carried to Japan, and my scepticism was surely apparent when encouraged to remain in colours. It was sound advice. Post match drinking in a far flung corner of the country clad in S-Pulse orange has resulted in nothing save for friendly conversations and free beers. Nursing a pint in Niigata after a 4-1 mauling,three home supporters offered consolation and rice crackers for the journey home. Be it Shizuoka, Saitama or Sendai, at the final whistle home and away fans flood the streets in unison. Save for a handful of incidents over two largely spotless decades, the mixture of supporters, male and female, young and old, intermingle without incident.

These two very different supporting lifestyles, products of their respective backgrounds, continue to evolve. Though bound by respective histories and cultures,England and Japan’s away day experience are different sides of the same coin. The former could be argued to be rougher, tougher and more authentic, but recent decades have witnessed an obvious, if gradual, shift towards the more serene eastern scene. Enjoying a pint with home fans, especially post match,is more possible now than at any time since the 1970s.

Fierce British rivalries,cultivated over decades,ensure merely entering another team’s ground is considered an act of aggression, and this is unlikely to change too much in our lifetime. However, as the years tick by, if we continue to edge closer to that laidback utopia in the Far East, who would argue against it? For anyone used to the away day as foray into enemy territory, a J. League game on the road,where visiting fans are treated less as invaders and more as welcome guests, is one for the bucket list.

What Saturday Means to S-Pulse Fans (Nabisco Cup Final)

First published in Japanese on Goal.com, November 1st 2012.

Since the J. League kicked off two teams have dominated both domestic cup competitions. Across the League and Emperor’s Cups, Shimizu S-Pulse have made nine final appearances, with this weekend making a round ten. The Shizuoka team rank only behind Ibaraki rivals Kashima Antlers who will notch up their 14th visit to the National Stadium* when the two head off for the League Cup on Saturday.

 

While the two clubs lead the country in cup finals, one crucial statistic separates them. From Kashima’s thirteen finals, they have won eight. By contrast S-Pulse have returned from Tokyo empty handed on seven of nine trips.

 

My conversion to a Shimizu fan was completed in April 2004 after a dramatic 4-3 league victory. That my second game was a dour home defeat in torrential rain mattered not. The damage had been done. That season also saw local legend Kenta Hasegawa begin his reign as manager. The S-Pulse old boy moulded a team around crowd favourites like Cho Jae-Jin, Ito, Aoyama, Ichikawa, and Okazaki. Crowds flooded to Nihondaira to watch dynamic, attacking football, and a return to the glories of the late 90s looked just over the horizon. 

 

But during his six year tenure I repeatedly watched Kenta’s carefully constructed squad play like champions for half a season, only to choke and fade when it mattered most. Cup football was no exception. Between 2004 and 2010, Shimizu lost three semi finals and three finals. 2008’s League Cup final typified the era. Relative J1 newcomers Oita Trinita walked out for their first final clear underdogs against on-paper favourites S-Pulse. In practice we hesitated, faltered and never looked in it. A 2-0 defeat to a team who would get relegated in emphatic style the following season.

 

Hasegawa’s local standing granted him more leeway than most, but patience eventually wore thin. As we fell limply away from the 2010 title race he announced his resignation, and in Iran national team coach Afshin Ghotbi’s appointment a revolution began. The tightly-knit squad and deeply ingrained pecking order broke apart. The local-is-best inward looking ideology was replaced overnight by the internationally experienced Ghotbi’s global vision. 

 

The culture of nearly-men had to be attacked from the ground up, and while player departures may have robbed the club of some talent, it wiped the slate someway clean to begin work to that end. Shrewd signings like Hayashi, Lee, Jong-a-Pin, Muramatsu, and Kawai formed the new heart of the team. Players previously on the periphery such as Omae became regular starters. Remaining members of the old regime, unhappy at struggling to hold down positions, were shipped out on loan. 

 

By no means a painless process, I’ve witnessed tensions on the terraces as the wholesale changes robbed fans of long standing favourites. Bumps along the path as the new look team took time to gel found me urging patience is some of those around me. Now as 2012 nears its climax everybody’s hard work may be about to bear its first tangible fruit.

 

That is why Saturday takes on a special significance. After ten years of falling short, now is the time for Afshin’s youngsters to prove they’re not the nearly team of Shimizu’s recent history. The route to the final in itself displays some of their finest qualities. Going 4-2 down on aggregate in the 87th  minute of the quarter final second leg would for many signal game over. Not knowing when they were beaten, strikes in the 88th and 93th minutes levelled the score and gave S-Pulse an incredible away goals victory. The semi final was a comeback of a different kind. Having lost the first leg following a ludicrous FC Tokyo dive in the box and subsequent penalty, the 2-1 deficit was reversed after a comprehensive 3-0 win. That initial injustice, which could have overwhelmed young minds, was instead channelled into revenge. 

 

A first title for a decade would give Shizuoka City something it’s clearly craving, but it would be far more than just a trophy. Any lingering doubts or glances backwards would be wiped away and in the wave of momentum such a triumph creates, this exciting new team would be propelled on the road to even greater things. 

 

The league cup’s value as a competition has on occasion come under scrutiny, but throughout this campaign S-Pulse have used the tournament to its full. Valuable match experience, and in some cases full pro debuts, have been gained by youngsters like Senuma, Shirasaki, Inukai and Ishige. This helped prepare them for subsequent roles in our league campaign. Whatever the starting eleven for the final, it’s been a team effort in the truest sense and the day will belong to everyone who got us there. Victory would herald the arrival of a new era and Ghotbi’s Shimizu would rightfully claim a spot in S-Pulse history as a team of winners.

 

* It was since pointed out that the 1997 final was played over home and away legs, so there was no national stadium involved that season.

A Revolution in Orange

Originally published on Afshin Ghotbi's official website, November 22nd 2012.

Shimizu S-Pulse, a founding member of the J. League in 1993, are one of the three surviving teams yet to claim the championship trophy. While the hunger around Shizuoka City for a title crown is tangible, another arguably larger operation is currently underway, and it’s one that is changing the face of the club.

At the time of my conversion to a Shimizu fan in 2004, S-Pulse were in a something of a lull.  A league stage victory in ‘99 and an Emperor’s Cup two years later had hinted at the start of a dynasty, but the team ultimately drifted back to mid table. 2004 also saw Kenta Hasegawa take control at the helm. The former S-Pulse striker moulded his team around crowd pullers like Ito, Aoyama, Ichikawa and Okazaki, and a return to glories seemed just around the corner. But for all the promise, Kenta’s squad repeatedly fell at the last hurdle. Over his six year reign, the team evolved to comprise largely of local heroes and long term favourites. With their boss’s resignation in 2010, many judged it time to jump ship.  

It was against this backdrop that the ambitious and well travelled Afshin Ghotbi was entrusted to lead a revolution. In the Iran national team manager’s appointment, the shift in club culture cannot be overstated. The local-is-best ideology was traded for the international coach’s global vision. Departures may have denied the incoming manager some talent, but shrewd signings like Yoshida, Lee, Jong-a-Pin, and Kawai were made as Ghotbi began shaping his own team. With a new head coach viewing the squad with fresh eyes, suddenly all positions were up for grabs. Players such as Omae, previously on the periphery, became regulars. Members of the old regime, struggling to hold down positions, were shipped out on loan. 

2011 was the classic transitional season, and it was hard for some to watch as well established favourites had to step aside. Tensions were felt on the terraces as extensive adjustments displaced a number of the most popular faces. Following so many pre season departures, personnel changes inevitably continued through the season, predictably impacting on results. Some in the crowd seized on poor results as an indictment of too much change too quickly, but with the foundations laid, 2012 proved far more settled. A higher league placing and cup final appearance suggested things were moving in the right direction, and undeniable by any observer was how impressive it was to watch such progress being made by often the youngest starting XI in the country.

In the years directly preceding Ghotbi’s arrival I couldn’t help but sense Shimizu were treading water, in danger of stagnation. Instead, since 2011 the reformation of the club’s philosophy and the drive to globalise has been tireless and unceasing. S-Pulse were national representatives on a fund raising trip to the Netherlands after the March 11th earthquake and tsunami, while in January this year a week was spent on tour in Hong Kong during pre-season training.

Eyes turned towards Australia, North and South Korea, the Netherlands and Sweden to fill the allotted foreign player positions. The Swede was one Freddie Ljungberg, and while ultimately a short lived transfer, it garnered the type of publicity money can’t buy. Overseas influence wasn’t limited solely to foreign acquisitions, either. New Japanese recruits Hayashi and Miyoshi brought with them experience playing in environments spanning from Plymouth to Patagonia. 

Courtesy of Ghotbi’s network of contacts, invaluable links between S-Pulse and some of the game’s biggest names are being forged.  A result of this is priceless opportunities for the club’s youngsters to learn and grow abroad while still contracted to Shimizu. One such deal will see 18 year old Hideki Ishige spend time training with Manchester City, with similar arrangements in the pipeline for other highly rated prospects.

Shimizu’s famous globe shirt motif has long been said to represent aspirations as an internationally recognized football team. The building of worldwide connections and broadening of horizons is the only way to realise that, and in the last two years huge strides have been made to that end. Whereas in the past S-Pulse may have looked inward, now with a bold outward facing approach, the club is reaching beyond the confines of the Miho Training Ground like never before. 

Over two short seasons a football club has been reborn, but it remains an ongoing process. Qualification to the Asian Champions League, tapping the largely untouched foreign market, and a first piece of silverware for a decade are all goals for the immediate future. While many fans may be preoccupied with the hunt for that elusive league title, setting sights on purely domestic targets would be selling the club’s potential short. Shimizu S-Pulse may stand on the brink of success on the pitch, but they are also experiencing growth off it unlike anything they’ve known. As the two come together the next few years will prove to be some of the most important, and exciting, in their history.