In 1989, Hideki enrolled in Seiryo High School. He led the school to the Koshien National High School championships four summers in a row. During that time, he hit a record 60 home runs.

Hideki was a big kid. By his junior year, he stood over six feet tall and weighed close to 200 pounds. That was the year classmates began calling him “Godzilla” (Gojira, in Japanese). The nickname was a good one—Hideki was huge, and he obliterated opposing pitchers. But some say he acquired the monicker because of another reason. As a teenager, Hideki had a nasty case of acne.

The ball in Japan is slightly smaller than the American baseball, and it jumps off the bat. Japanese outfield dimensions are also smaller than those across the Pacific. These factors combine to inflate the stats of Japanses hitters, from high school all the way to the pros. But there was no inflating Hideki’s power. He crushed the ball, sending his home runs so far over the fences that outfielders sometimes didn’t bother turning around.

Hideki’s power also caused opposing managers to pitch around him during his time at Seiryo. While this is standard practice in the States, it was highly unusual at that level of Japanese baseball. It was intentional walks, in fact, that made a national hero of Hideki. In the 1992 High School championships, which were broadcast nationally, he cranked out three mighty homers in the semifnals. In the final, he was issued five intentional passes.

As impressive as Hideki’s power display had been, the class he displayed while being ptiched around was the talk of the Japanese sports world the next day. Fans were outraged that the bat had been taken out of Hideki’s hands—and just as complimentary at his reaction.

This kind of star power is unusual for a young player, and the Yomiuri Giants—Japan’s unofficial “national” team—took notice. They made Hideki the #1 draft choice the following spring.

ON THE RISE

Hideki had always hoped to play for Hanshin, but how could he complain about the Giants? Owned by the Yomiuri newspaper conglomerate, they were his country’s most storied sports franchise—akin to the Yankees, Boston Celtics and Dallas Cowboys all rolled into one. The team’sgames were televised nationally, their stars were national heroes, and their manager, Shigeo Nagashima, was the most beloved baseball figure in all of Japan.

Hideki asked for #55 when he joined the team. The confident rookie confided in friends that he hoped to one day break Sadahuru Oh’s record of 55 homers. Despite his high hopes, the 1993 season was one of adjustment for Hideki. He was converted to right field, an experiment that was not an immediate success.

Luckily, his teammates included a pair of ex-major leaguers who knew a thing or two about outfield play. In their days with the Toronto Blue Jays, Lloyd Moseby and Jesse Barfield had made up two thirds of the game’s best outfield. They were drawn to the teenager because of how he approached his sport. Whereas the typical Japanese hitter looked to direct the ball through holes and into open spaces, Hideki tried to drive the ball over everyone’s head every at-bat. Barfield and Moseby got a kick out of the kid and were generous with their advice.

Hideki also got good advice from master batmaker Isokazu Kubota of Mizuno. He told the rookie to pick out a bat he liked and stick with it all year. That would enable him to form a close relationship with the piece of lumber and gain intimate knowledge of it. After a year, he would also know what kind of adjustments to make for the following season. Hideki has followed that advice ever since.