By Jeerawat Na Thalang
Staff Writer, The Nation
Bangkok, Thailand

I used to dream of being a sports writer. Being an avid soccer fan, I imagined myself sitting in the stadium's press box, jotting down the statistics and scores and writing my views on the final result of the game. Although I now write something else, there were times I thought of the fun I could have had covering sporting events. But I had given up my dream a long time ago, with the stupid idea that I was not suited to write sports. After all, I was discouraged by my male friends who tended to take little notice of my views about the games. Besides, the sports section in my newspaper does not seem to fit me—people are noisy, they curse a lot, and they think that women should not work in such a place.

At a certain point, when my mentor at the Seattle Post-Intelligencer asked me which department I wanted to work for during my five-month fellowship here in Seattle, I told him I would like to work in sports. At first he was not very convinced but in October we agreed I would spend two weeks there. I thought I might have lots of fun going with reporters to sporting events. But Pete Wevurski, the sports editor, did not let me get away with it easily. He asked me: "What do you know about sports? And what kind of story do you want to write?"

It was mind boggling because I had never written anything about sporting events. I know how thoughtful and meticulous a journalist must be to cover a game. The only sports story I had ever written for my home newspaper was about a transvestite kick-boxer. Thanks to my survival skills, I thought of Seattle Mariners' Japanese pitcher, Kazuhiro Sasaki. Because Sasaki moved to Seattle this year I thought he would be going through the transition between cultures that I was also experiencing. I figured it would make an interesting story and one that I understood better than any American reporter.

My Sasaki story was to be a profile. I did research on baseball to understand the role of the pitcher, catcher and shortstop as well as the difference between a forkball and a fastball. I wanted to understand everything he would say during the interview. The next step was to talk to him in person.

Although Sasaki had a shaky start at the beginning of the season, he, by October, was in top form and was expected to be named Rookie of the Year (he was). Articles about his outstanding performance frequently appeared in the press. That week, the Mariners came back to Seattle for their last home game. My editor took me to the stadium before the Mariners game with the Texas Rangers and introduced me to the public relations officers. I asked them to arrange an appointment for me. The PR person left to talk to Sasaki's interpreter and then came back to tell me that I would speak to him on Monday afternoon, before the game.

Pete returned to the office but I went up to the press box to see how the sports reporters worked. About an hour before the match, reporters from almost every news organization were setting up their computers. On the table was soda, beer, cookies and snacks, because they expected a long game. I met the P-I reporter John Hickney who asked me if I wanted to sit next to him in the local reporters area. There, I saw approximately 20 Japanese reporters sitting at the other side of the press box. I thought I should feel more comfortable mingling with Japanese reporters if I had to stay there for a long game. Therefore I introduced myself to one of them and told him that I wanted to do a story about Sasaki. One of the Japanese reporters I met had known Sasaki for more than 10 years and had followed Sasaki since his high school days. I managed to get some insightful information from him. For example, whenever Sasaki felt down with his below-par performance, he called his hometown high school coach.

The reporter also introduced me to the others who went out with Sasaki after the game. I noticed that Sasaki felt comfortable with the Japanese press. Unlike Nomo, the other Japanese pitcher, who shunned the press, Sasaki considered Japanese reporters his friends and made himself accessible to them. He socialized with them after games and on weekends. Japanese reporters told me the best way to talk to him was going to the locker room after the game. They told me not to rely on PR people, which later proved to be true.

In the locker room, Mariners players were changing clothes after the game. Some were in their towel and some noticed I was a stranger. Nonetheless, I managed to see Sasaki in person for the first time. He came out and talked to Japanese reporters in Japanese. One of the Japanese reporters told him I would like to interview him, and Sasaki nodded. But his ever-present interpreter, Allen Turner, said I had to return the next day after the game.

Sasaki and I were similar in many ways. We were both foreigners who had just arrived in town. We are assigned to work on the same par as Americans— Sasaki plays baseball for a major league team and I was writing for the best newspaper in the region. I believe Sasaki and I were both taught to respect consensus building rather than individualist culture. We both feel more comfortable speaking our own language. In fact, Sasaki does not speak English at all.

I was partially right. Sasaki came across as a typical Japanese to me, with his soft-spoken style and politeness. He frequently bowed and nodded at his counterparts throughout the conversation. He also has strong appetite for tuna sushi and chicken curry. After the game, he likes to hang out with Japanese reporters. Sasaki has built his "little Tokyo" around him in Seattle. The only difference might be the fact that Sasaki is already a celebrity, while I am a no-name reporter struggling to earn respect from my professional colleagues and readers in America. I wanted my Sasaki story to be impressive. I thought all night about what to ask him the next day.

The next day, however, I found out that a senior sports reporter of our competitor, The Seattle Times, also wanted to interview Sasaki. Because he is a well-known reporter, he was given the privilege of interviewing Sasaki first and received 20 minutes of his time. I, unfortunately only spoke with Sasaki for five minutes and I don't believe he or his interpreter knew that I represented the P-I. After a few short answers, he excused himself to join the training session. That was it. No good quotes from Sasaki. I was panicked. The Seattle Times' reporter appeared to have got something to write. Would I be the loser? I came back to the office. There were no good quotes from Sasaki, but lots of good stuff I got from his Japanese reporter friends.

I started writing the story about his life after the games. The P-I sports editor, Pete, said he liked my story and it was published on the sports section. The next day, some of the P-I reporters congratulated me. They said my story was interesting. Usually, American reporters talked to Sasaki about his performance on the field. Mine was a different story. I no longer cared about what The Seattle Times would have on the paper. I sent e-mails to my friends in Bangkok, telling them that I had fulfilled my dream. I thought I was a successful sports writer, albeit with a short stint.