At home, Ichiro was instructed to load up on protein and vitamins. He was not allowed to eat anything until Nobuyuki approved it first. One of his dietary staples was a special muscle-building soup made by his aunt.

By the time Ichiro enrolled in seventh grade, he was the best young player in his area. He had a smooth swing with a big leg kick (borrowed from slugging star Kazunori Shinozuka), and his fastball was clocked at more than 80 mph. More impressive than his physical skills were his mental ones. Thanks to his father, Ichiro really understood the game. At the plate, he could adjust his batting approach to meet the demands of any situation. On the mound, he mastered the art of changing speed and hitting spots, which made his fastball untouchable.

In 1987, Ichiro enrolled at the Nagoya Electric High School. Better known as Aikodai Meiden, it was one of three first-rate schools in the Suzukis’ part of central Japan. Ichiro chose Meiden because it offered him the clearest path to professional baseball. The school’s coach, Go Nakamura, had established a reputation for preparing players for the pros. In all, Meiden had produced eleven Japanese major leaguers.

Nakamura looked past Ichiro’s exaggerated leg kick and saw the makings of a marvelous hitter. He ignored the boy’s small stature and saw a great pitcher. But like every teenager who goes into a big-time baseball program like Nakamura’s, Ichiro had to fight for playing time—and earn the respect of his teammates. This meant doing the team’s laundry and cooking rice for his hungry teammates. There was so little time left for studying that Ichiro took to washing dirty uniforms in the pre-dawn hours, when everyone at school was asleep and all the machines were empty.

It was an imaginative solution to a problem faced by generations of high-school freshmen. And it was consistent with Ichiro’s approach to all things in life, both on and off the diamond. Japan’s baseball tradition diminishes the role of the individual and elevates the importance of the team, despite the fact that at its core baseball is a highly individual sport. This philosophy keeps the truly talented players from fully expressing their gifts, instead rewarding them for playing the same way as everyone else. Ichiro was taught outside of the sports mainstream, and thus was more like western athletes. If he thought there was a better way to do something, he did it—regardless of what his coaches and teammates thought.

By his sophomore season, Ichiro had established himself as a solid starter. By his senior year he was the best hitter and pitcher on the team. Led by Ichiro, Meiden gained national acclaim, and was invited to play in the Koushien tournament, Japan’s most prestigious amateur baseball event. Ichiro and his teammates acquitted themselves well, beating several larger schools, but lost before reaching the finals. Ichiro says he still regrets that Meiden never won the tournament.

Ichiro graduated from high school in 1991. There was no doubt he was headed for a professional baseball career. Japanese scouts had been watching him for years. But Ichiro was already looking beyond his country’s major leagues. After watching former big leaguers such as Jim Paciorek, Larry Parrish, and Warren Cromartie enjoy productive careers in Japan, it occurred to him that someday he might like to try playing in North America.

ON THE RISE

From a talent standpoint, Ichiro had few peers among Japan’s top teenage players. Yet during the country’s 1991 baseball draft, one team after another passed on him. The reason was his size. Ichiro stood only 5-9, and weighed less than 160 pounds. Finally, the Orix Blue Wave, who played in the port city of Kobe, selected him in the fourth round. This