Hitting it big By Al Chase

Tuesday, January 25, 2005
CRAIG KOJIMA / CKOJIMA@STARBULLETIN.COM
Roosevelt alumnus Mike Lum is relaxing in Hawaii before beginning his 17th season with the Chicago White Sox.


Hitting it big

Mike Lum has found success as
a pro baseball batting instructor

By Al Chase
achase@starbulletin.com
Mike Lum is enjoying his annual winter visit to Hawaii, relaxing at home, visiting with friends.

However, the longtime Chicago White Sox hitting coordinator for player development for all minor-league teams is relaxing more then he would like. The 59-year-old football and baseball standout from Roosevelt had right hip replacement surgery seven weeks ago.
The pain was so bad prior to the operation, he could hardly walk. Since the surgery, there has been no pain. However, Lum still hasn't been able to enjoy a round of golf, although he did spend a day watching the action at the Sony Open.

He'll be ready to start his 17th season with the White Sox when spring training opens next month in Tucson, Ariz.

"I have six coaches working under me. Our job is to benefit the big-league team whether the players come through our system or through trades," Lum said. "Sometimes that means getting the players good enough so that another team is interested in them.

"We have a great staff. A lot of our coaches have been there for quite a while. I've hired some of the people I coached. I had Ken Williams (Chicago's senior vice president/general manager) in Double A and now he's my boss.

"It has been a very good life. I have been very fortunate, met a lot of good people in the business. You just have to work hard and do the best job you can. You are teaching a skill. There is a lot of repetition and it is time consuming."

Lum signed with the Milwaukee Braves after graduating from Roosevelt in 1963. He also had a football scholarship to Brigham Young, but that was before the NCAA allowed an athlete to be a pro in one sport and compete in college as an amateur in another.

The Braves assigned him to Waycross, Ga.

"What a culture shock. They had segregation then," Lum said.

His plan was to attend BYU each fall, but after his second season, the Braves invited Lum to instructional league.

"That was an honor in those days. It meant they thought something about you. I decided to stick with baseball," said Lum, who played in nine games for Atlanta at the end of the 1967 season as a 21-year-old.

His best season was 1973 when he hit .294 in 138 games with 16 home runs and 82 RBIs for Atlanta. He was traded to Cincinnati in 1976, spent three seasons with the Reds, came back to Atlanta in 1979 and '80 and split the 1981 season between the Braves and Chicago Cubs.

His final year as an active player was 1982 in Japan with the Taiyo Whales.

"I wanted to stay in the game. I loved it in Japan, but unfortunately, they didn't invite me back," Lum said. "I didn't have a lot of options at that point. Then Hank Aaron (Atlanta's minor-league farm director) called and asked me to come to spring training. I went and basically he created a position for me with the extended spring program. When that was over, I was assigned to a South Atlantic League team."

Lum became intrigued with the whole process of teaching hitting and the philosophy behind the art. He says hitting consists of balance, vision, rhythm and timing, all necessary for the movement of the body to swing a baseball bat and make contact with a ball traveling at high speeds through different planes.

"You know what you have been told, but having the patience to recognize flaws in a player's swing because everyone is different, that took me some time to develop," said Lum. "I think I've educated myself in biomechanics. I've learned a lot from Coop DeRenne (former Rainbow assistant coach and a professor in UH's department of kinesiology and leisure science). We talked a lot about his studies. It's how I helped myself help the kids."

He moved to the White Sox for the first time in 1984 after getting a call from Charlie Lau, a well-known hitting instructor. After the 1985 season, he spent a year with the San Francisco Giants, then three with Kansas City, including two as the Royals hitting coach before returning to the White Sox in 1990.

"Charlie was way ahead of his time in the teaching aspect. There were no videos. We learned through film. He didn't just think it up, he studied hitting," said Lum.

"Now, the first thing we do when a player comes into the organization is teach work ethic. We allow them to play with what they bring to the table. If a player hit .400 in high school, he must have done something right. In time, we make adjustments, not changes. Talking adjustments is more positive."

Lum is fortunate that Chicago's minor-league teams, with the exception of Great Falls, Mont., are located in the southeastern part of the United States, just a short flight from his home in an Atlanta suburb. His schedule has him on the road for two weeks, then it's a week off.

"When I come to town, I look at tapes with the coaches. We put together a plan to attack problems. Every player has a plan, a goal sheet," Lum said. "I'm not there to revamp a player. My job is to teach hitting coaches how to teach."

Lum lists two highlights from his 15-year career in the majors. The first was playing with the 1976 World Series champion Cincinnati Reds.

"There were quite a few future Hall of Famers (Johnny Bench, Joe Morgan, Tony Perez) on that team," Lum said.

The second was hitting three home runs in his first three at-bats against San Diego in the first game of a doubleheader in Atlanta.

"I came up the fourth time with the bases loaded and walked," Lum recalled.

Retirement? No way.

"I want to work until I'm 70. I enjoy what I'm doing, working with minor-league players. I enjoy sharing some of my experiences," said Lum, a member of the Hawaii Sports Hall of Fame.



The Lum file

Mike Lum's major league statistics:
Seasons played: 15
Games played: 1,517 (the most by a player from Hawaii)
At bats: 3,554
Runs: 404
Hits: 877 (includes 128 doubles, 20 triples, 90 home runs)
RBIs: 431
Batting average: .247
Walks: 366
Strikeouts: 506
Major League transactions

June 21, 1963: Signed by Milwaukee Braves as amateur free agent.
Dec. 12, 1975: Traded by Atlanta Braves to Cincinnati Reds for Darrel Chaney.
Nov. 2, 1978: Granted free agency.
Feb. 15, 1979: Signed as free agent with Atlanta Braves.
May 1, 1981: Released by Atlanta Braves.
May 17, 1981: Signed as free agent with Chicago Cubs.
Dec. 17, 1981: Released by Chicago Cubs.

The Heat is on for NBA's 1st APA Head Coach by Lynda Lin, Assistant Editor

The Heat is on for NBA's 1st APA Head Coach


In April, Erik Spoelstra made history as the successor to a Hall of Fame coach. It's his love of basketball that has taken him this far.

By Lynda Lin, Assistant Editor
Published May 16, 2008

Call it one of the coolest job promotions ever. For Erik Spoelstra it's a dream come true.

After 13 seasons working with the Miami Heat, he was recently tapped to succeed Pat Riley and become the National Basketball League's current youngest head coach. At 37, he also made history as the league's first Asian Pacific American sideline boss. The moment isn't lost on him either.

"I'm very proud of my heritage," said Erik, who is of Irish, Dutch and Filipino descent.
"I'm very excited and at the same time extremely honored to hold this position in history."

A day before he stepped behind a podium at a news conference to announce to the world his new job title, he had to tell his family the good news first. He picked up the phone and left a mundane message for Monica Spoelstra Metz, his older sister. Just wanted to say hi, but call me back. Monica grew suspicious when her mom Lisa kept asking if she talked to Erik lately. Oh, you really should talk to him, Lisa insisted.

When the siblings finally connected that evening, Monica found out she was talking to the new head coach of the Miami Heat.

"We were so very excited," she said from her hometown of Portland, Oregon. But she can't really say that she was surprised.

Humble Beginnings

Erik's work ethic is now almost legendary - long hours, no sleep and barely any time off. The story about his rise to the top of the NBA reads like the plotline of a quintessential American dream. A starry-eyed kid from Portland gets an entry-level job with the Heat splicing videos and picking up lunches for the staff. His boss Pat Riley didn't even know his name for a few years.

It's Erik's great love of basketball that drives him, said Monica.

A few weeks into his new job, Erik is already ushering in an air of newness. In a sport dominated by a usual slate of grizzled, clipboard clutching sideline bosses, Erik chats with fans online and prefers e-mail over the more archaic form of communication - you know, the telephone. For the most part, he said life has not changed much, expect for a few minor points.

"Well, now I'm in a position to make final decisions. I used to be in a position to just suggest," said Erik in an e-mail to the Pacific Citizen. "I guess I also get recognized on the street a little more than I used to."




Destined for Success

"When I was a kid, all I wanted to do was play basketball, so I played every opportunity I could. I dreamed of being Isaiah Thomas and Magic Johnson," said Erik.

Growing up, basketball wasn't his only love.

"He had a lot of 'Star War' figures," said Monica with a laugh. But those quickly fell out of mind, when he dribbled his first basketball. Then Erik became a fixture in the family driveway teaching himself to handle the ball and dribble between his legs. His dad Jon Spoelstra, a former NBA executive with the Portland Trailblazers, made three-point hash marks for young Erik. And through rain or cold, Monica would look out the window and see him shooting basketballs in his wool cap.

Jon met his future wife Lisa when he was traveling in the Philippines during a year off of college. They were introduced by mutual friends and kept in touch for two years through letters. Then he proposed and brought her to America where they eventually settled in Portland.

"I grew up looking different than most kids at school, so that's probably the most obvious way I experienced my Asian roots. People were always wondering what I was," he said.

"I would say the Asian influences were in food and cuisine ... and commitment to family and extended family. My mom cooks a lot of fish and rice, and my uncle makes awesome lumpia."

Erik grew up around the game.

"I must have attended almost every Portland Trailblazer home game when I was a kid. That really stoked my passion for the game."

After graduating from Jesuit High School in 1988, Erik went on to the University of Portland where he was the Pilots' starting point guard for three years and was named the West Coast Conference Freshman of the Year in 1989.

When Larry Steele, a former Portland Trail Blazers guard and college coach, first met Erik he saw a personable gentleman and a fierce competitor on the court. He watched Erik grow up and come into his own as a leader.

"He was dedicated to doing things correctly," said Steele. "He spent many, many hours honing his basketball skills. He was destined to become successful."

After college, Erik spent two seasons as a player and coach for a German professional basketball team before taking a low level job with the Miami Heat as their video coordinator.

"At the Miami Heat, I've worn many hats. In fact, many of the jobs I've had to do wouldn't appear to lead to a head coaching position," he said. "But I stayed in the moment as much as possible, and did that particular job at the time to the best of my ability. Because of that, my opportunities just arose naturally."

Other job titles came along: assistant coach/advance scout and assistant coach/director of scouting. And success poured in. In 2006, the Heat won their first ever NBA championship against the Dallas Mavericks. But two years later, the team ended their season with a league-worst record of 15-67.

Then his longtime mentor said he was "definitely sure" he didn't want to coach anymore. And then Riley said Erik's name in the April 28 press conference.

"We're hiring Erik Spoelstra today to get a result," he said at the press conference. "When you take a look at the game today, it's a game about men like Erik who are very, very talented, have an incredible work ethic, are loyal, trustworthy and deserve an opportunity."

Just like that, the kid who no one knew was thrust into the spotlight.

A New Future

"It was just the right opportunity for this organization," said Erik about his new job. "I fully realize how difficult it is to get a head coaching job in this league. There are so many successful and talented coaches out there. But each team and situation is different. Pat Riley felt that continuity was going to be very important with this change."

Riley remains the Heat's president, something Erik is glad to still have.

"We've had a great working relationship for 13 years. I look forward to continuing to work together for the common goal of trying to bring another championship to the city of Miami. And what better resource could I have as a young coach to go to when I need advice? I'm sure I'll be in his office a lot asking his advice on various things."

Even with the demands and pressure of the new job, Erik is determined to not let his new job title change his life too much. His tight-knit family tries to go on vacations together once or twice a year. On these trips, while everyone sleeps in, Erik often wakes up at the crack of dawn and goes on eight-mile runs, said Monica.

But for now, Erik and his coaching staff are focusing on the May 20 NBA draft lottery and the June 26 draft itself to help rebuild his team.

"I will be involved in the decision-making process of the draft. Right now, we are all (personnel staff and coaching staff) watching film and analyzing statistical data on possible prospects. This draft is an exciting possibility for our franchise," said Erik.

"We are very encouraged about our current situation. We acknowledge our season last year and how we got to where we are now, but we use that as motivation in moving forward. We like our young core of athletic, exciting players returning under contract.

"I think it's important that I stay true to myself. I can't try to be Pat Riley or anyone else. Communic-ation is something I'll work very hard at with my players.

"But, ultimately, my relationships and connection with the players probably won't be any better or worse, it will just be different," he said.

Wilner: Walters looks to USF's future By Jon Wilner

http://www.mercurynews.com/sports/ci_11778566?nclick_check=1
Wilner: Walters looks to USF's future

By Jon Wilner
Mercury News
Posted: 02/24/2009 09:07:21 PM PST

Blogs
College Hotline
Yes, it has been tougher than he expected. It's USF basketball — of course it's tougher than he expected. It's tougher than anybody in their right, wrong or upside-down mind could possibly expect.
But that hasn't stopped Rex Walters from sticking to his principles, identifying incremental progress and squeezing a morsel of fun out of his first season with the Dons (10-17, 2-10 West Coast Conference).
"It has been difficult, no question, and it's going to be difficult in the future," said Walters, the former Piedmont Hills High star who took over USF in April.
"There have been times when I haven't felt like we were getting any better."
Like when the Dons lost at Portland and Gonzaga, back to back, by 52 points.
Or when they dropped five consecutive games by double digits.
Or when they lost 10 of 11.
Or when Walters suspended four players, including two seniors, for violating team rules "....
Actually, the suspensions, announced two weeks ago, were Walters' shrewdest move of the season.
Given the chaotic state of the program — coaching changes, academic problems, losing season after losing season — Walters has tried to stay focused on the long haul.
He's trying to win now but coaching for two years down the road, installing a system and establishing a standard of conduct that he hopes will turn the program around. The suspensions were his way of raising the bar.
"The firstthing you try to do is lay the foundation for what you're all about," he said. "The last two weeks (since the suspensions), we've played a lot harder and smarter."
Down to eight scholarship players, the Dons pushed Gonzaga and Portland to the brink, then rallied to beat Santa Clara in overtime.
They're playing well enough to get a split this weekend at Pepperdine and Loyola Marymount, and perhaps even a sweep.
"I'm really impressed with how Rex has kept their intensity up through all their struggles," Santa Clara Coach Kerry Keating said. "They've obviously been through a lot, and he has them playing hard."
n"‚Decensae White's first season at Santa Clara is officially over. It didn't last long.
The former Serra High star and Texas Tech transfer played in 10 games, then was removed from team-related activities last month because of attitude issues.
Keating has declined to discuss specifics of White's situation but said, "He won't be playing the rest of the way."
White's status for the 2009-10 season will be determined this spring.

Swift Progress 7-foot center Robert Swift

Swift Progress
By JORDAN IKEDA
RAFU STAFF WRITER
Saturday, January 31, 2009

7-foot center Robert Swift opens up about his team, his uncles and his NBA future.


Photos by JORDAN IKEDA/Rafu Shimpo
From left, former UCLA guard Russell Westbrook, Robert Swift,
and reserve power forward Chris Wilcox anticipate the rebound
during warmups.


Swift, an Oklahoma City Thunder reserve center, practices with the Thunder’s big man coach, 15-year NBA veteran Mark Bryant, before they faced the Los Angeles Clippers Jan. 23 at Staples Center.

Most everyone in the Japanese American community knows Wat Misaka. If you don’t, check out his documentary, “Transcending.”

The 5-7 Nisei with the slick hair and the short shorts, played three games for the New York Knicks only a few years after Hiroshima and Nagasaki were decimated by atomic bombs and JAs were living interned. The 24-year-old Misaka was not only the first Japanese American to don an NBA uniform, but the first person of color.

Fast-forward to 2004 and another 24- year-old guard was trying to be another first for the NBA. Yuta Tabuse, “the Michael Jordan of Japan,” with his spiky coif and baggy pants managed to get his listed 5-9 frame into four games with the Phoenix Suns, making him the first native Japanese player in the Association.

Interesting that nearly 60 years after Misaka’s sneakers stopped squeaking across the hardwood of Madison Square Garden that the progress for players of Japanese ethnicity in the NBA had amounted to two inches and one game.

Of course, over the past few years, Asian basketball in the NBA has really taken off thanks to Yao Ming and to a lesser extent Wang Zhizhi, Yi Jianlian, and Sun Yue. The exceedingly long and skillful Chinese pro game has taken leaps and bounds in a little over a decade.

But, in comparison, Japanese pro hoops just hasn’t developed at the same rate. Japan simply doesn’t have a billion people to pull 7-footers from.

And besides, they’re more on the cutting edge of infiltrating pro baseball and soccer (football). Basketball’s like the country’s tenth favorite sport.

Stateside, the Japanese American community has developed a bevy of college players thanks in part to the vastly popular J-leagues, but that next step, the development to NBA talent, has been hindered by the very concept the leagues were established on.

Which takes us back to 2004.

While Tabuse was being hailed by the press as the Ichiro of American professional basketball, another player of partial Japanese descent was making history in his own way, quiet and unassuming, and right in Ichiro’s backyard no less.

Robert Swift, whose father is half Japanese (Okinawan), was the first Asian as well as first Caucasian player to be drafted straight out of high school and was taken with the twelfth overall pick in the 2004 NBA draft by the Seattle Sonics.

As a reference point to how high in the draft that pick is, well, a certain Mr. Bryant who plays for a certain Purple and Gold went 13th in the ‘96 draft. So, twelfth, is a little better than pretty damn good for a kid from Bakersfield who didn’t start playing roundball until high school.

“I started late,” the Sonsei told the Rafu Shimpo before the Los Angeles Clippers faced the Oklahoma City Thunder at Staples Center Friday, Jan. 23. “My friends were really into it, they said, ‘You’re tall, we need you, come play.’ So I started going with them. When I got into high school, I started taking it serious and started having fun with it.”

Five years ago, the scouting report on the gangly, pasty white kid with the shaved head that hid his flame-red hair was a mixed bag. First off, he was young and like most high schoolers not named Lebron, needed a lot of work in the weight room. From a purely basketball standpoint, he was raw. There were also academic issues that scared some teams.

On the flipside, he had great hands and footwork, could pass well for a big, was quick and worked hard. In fact, there were scouts who believed he was the most underrated high school prospect in the country.

Now in his fourth NBA season playing (fifth overall), he is older and wiser—his now heavily tattooed body having endured more than its fair share of pain and development. And yet, with a little more than a full season of actual game time (87 games) under his belt, the truth concerning Swift the baller has yet to fully reveal itself.

His career, like most rookies, began with him riding pine for all but 72 minutes of his first season. In his second year, during a stretch of 20 consecutive starts, he began to show flashes of his potential the more positive scouts had raved about. He played a career-high 38 minutes against Phoenix in January, collected a career-high 13 rebounds against Atlanta in February and scored a career-best 17 points to go along with 4 swats against Denver in March.

With him in the starting lineup, the Sonics were 8-12.

But injury struck in the form of a broken nose that sidelined him for four games and effectively robbed him of his starting job. He finished the season playing 42 games and averaging 6.4 points and 5.6 rebounds in 21 minutes per contest.

Having added muscle in the off season and working hard and impressing the coach during training camp, Swift was rewarded the starting center position going into his third season. He seemed poised for a breakout campaign.

Instead, in the first minute of a preseason game against the Kings, Swift fell awkwardly, twisting his right knee.

He missed the rest of the year as well as the next recovering from a ruptured ACL.

“Even when I’m not playing basketball,” said Swift who speaks in a soft-spoken manner that reminds a little of Andy Griffith sans the heavy drawl, “I still get a chance to learn what I can by watching it. I still have access to the weight room. We’ve got a great strength coach on this team. He’s kept me motivated setting goals in the weight room when I can’t be out on the court.”

Entering the league at a very lanky 245 lbs, Swift, through hard work and dedication over the past three seasons, has bulked up considerably and now tips the scales at around 270.

Last year, despite the excitement surrounding the team who had just drafted Kevin Durant and Jeff Green, two players projected to be the cornerstones for the franchise for years to come, Swift struggled to re-acclimate after the log rehab. He sat out 41 games due to right knee tendonitis and ended up missing the final 29 games of the season after suffering a torn meniscus in his right knee. He appeared in only 8 games.

“Our big man coach, Mark Bryant, has really helped me out a lot this year,” Swift said when asked about how he was able to cope with consecutive injury-riddled seasons.

“Actually, the last couple of years. He’s worked with me. He understands. He played for 15 years. He always finds new ways to keep me going. I’ve got a great supporting cast and they make it easy for me.”

The 2008-09 season has brought a great deal of change for the franchise.

The Sonics’ ownership forced its way out of Seattle (with some help from NBA commissioner David Stern), moved to Oklahoma City and became the Thunder.

“It wasn’t really hard making the transition,” Swift said. “Oklahoma City is just like a big Bakersfield. I miss Seattle, but I love Oklahoma. It’s just two different environments. I enjoy being in both of them.”

This year, he’s had an opportunity to start and played well in his limited opportunities averaging 3.3 points and 4.5 rebounds on 52 percent shooting in only 15 minutes of game time. Those per 40-minute numbers look more like his breakout second season (9 ppg and 12 rpg), but he’s once again found himself watching from the sidelines.

Swift lost his starting job not because of his poor play, but more because a proven commodity was brought in midseason when the team signed Nenad Krstic from the Russian league. Ironically, Krstic who had been an up-and coming center in the NBA only two season before, had been overseas trying to regain his form after suffering a rupture to his ACL in his left knee.

Not only has Krstic’s signing limited Swifts present PT, it also clouds his future with the franchise. He’s a free agent at the end of this year, and with a spotty amount of playing time due to injuries, and now firmly stuck behind Krstic and starting center, Nick Collison, on the depth chart, there isn’t much opportunity to prove himself.

Despite this seemingly hard luck, Swift remains unassuming and positive.

“The beginning of the year I had some problems, but I worked through them,” he said. “I ended up coming back and starting for a little while. Then we changed the lineup a little bit. It helped us, and we started winning some games. But I have no idea how the rest of the year is going to go yet. So far, we’re looking pretty good. As far as free agency, I really have no plans yet. We still have the rest of the season to finish, so we’re going to go from there.”

One thing he is sure about, however, is his desire to travel to Japan, explore part of his heritage.

Swift, before opting for the draft, had toyed with the idea of attending USC and majoring in Japanese studies. He even speaks a little bit of Japanese.

“It’s a part of my history that I’ve always been interested in,” he said. “I learned as much as I could from my grandmother who lived in Okinawa before coming here. Never really got the chance to really get into it like I wanted to or start learning the language like I wanted to with her. That’s why I wanted to in college.”

Coming from a guy who is seven feet tall and three-fourths Caucasian, you’d expect his height to come from the white part of him.

Of course, some of it does, seeing as his mom is 6 feet tall.

But, much like Swift himself, who sports painted black nails, frazzy red hair, and arms littered with ink, his height is a bit of a conundrum.

The real height, the NBA-ready height, comes from his two uncles who live in Okinawa.

Both of them are full-blooded Japanese.

One is 6-5. The other is 6-7.

So, maybe there is hope for Japanese basketball after all.

Progress is progress, no matter how long it takes.

Six decades ago, the 24-year-old Misaka totaled seven career points.

Five years ago, a 24-year-old Tabuse managed seven career points as well.

As for Swift? He’s currently working on career point 383.

And he’s only 23.

Transcending’ the Game

‘Transcending’ the Game
By MIKEY HIRANO CULROSS
RAFU SPORTS EDITOR
Friday, February 20, 2009
http://www.rafu.com/en/2009/0220/sports.html


Wat Misaka’s attendance at the screening of a documentary about his basketball days makes for a priceless event.


Photos by MIKEY HIRANO CULROSS/Rafu Shimpo
Wat Misaka shares a laugh with an audience member Sunday, after a screening of “Transcending: The Wat Misaka Story.” The documentary of his basketball career was shown at the Japan America Theatre in Little Tokyo.

Dave Yanai, a man who knows a thing or two about basketball, was well aware of the value of Sunday’s event at the Japan America Theatre.

“To have younger people see this story told and to have Mr. Misaka still alive and be able to answer questions, it’s a wonderful thing,” said Yanai.

The legendary retired coach of Cal State Dominguez Hills was among a nearly full house at the JAT for a screening of “Transcending: The Wat Misaka Story,” which chronicles the groundbreaking rise of a player to national prominence, and to becoming the first Asian American player in the National Basketball Association.

Christine Toy Johnson, who along with her husband, Bruce, produced and directed the film, which tells Misaka’s story within the context of Japanese internment and a post-war anti-Japanese sentiment that was rampant throughout the country.

“Unfortunately, I think that a large majority of Asian American stories take too long to come to the general public, and I’m not sure why,” Toy Johnson said after Sunday’s screening. “We feel very excited about having the opportunity to tell Wat’s story and after all, better late than never.”

The film provides an intimate look, complete with a wealth of film footage from the 1947 National Invitational Tournament, which at the time was a bigger and more prestigious event than the NCAA championship. Misaka was a short but tenacious guard for the University of Utah, who shocked the heavily favored Kentucky team.

Misaka, now 84, took the stage to field questions from the large audience after the showing. Much had been made about his success in containing Kentucky’s sensational All-American guard, Ralph Beard, to a single point in the championship game. Misaka gave the credit to his team.

“If you look at the films, you can see that I wasn’t on him a hundred percent of the time,” Misaka said in a soft voice, his platinum hair gleaming under the stage lights. “And those times he was able to get by me, I had teammates that could cover for me. That’s something I hadn’t talked about much, but it was good team defense that made us good.”

The Johnson’s film makes life-giving use of photos, clips and news stories, some of which are read with an inflection meant to mirror the parlance of the period. In one report on the championship, a sports writer stated, “That little fellow’s terrific.”

More potently, the film makes strong note of how in 1947–the year Jackie Robinson became the first African American to play major league baseball–color barriers also fell in football and basketball. While Misaka followed up his college career with a brief NBA stint with the New York Knicks, Wally Yonamine made history by playing football for the San Francisco 49ers. Misaka was also invited to join the famed Harlem Globe Trotters after being cut by the Knicks.

Misaka said that he hopes to see more Japanese Americans excel in the college game, and to be more represented in the NBA.

“I’ve been waiting 65 years for something like that to happen,” Misaka said. “I think the game is so much different, especially the professional game, which has turned more toward entertainment than sport, whether that’s good or bad.

“When I played, the United States was the king; there was hardly any basketball played anywhere else. I like to think that when we won our national championship, that we were not only national champions, but world champions.

There just wasn’t any basketball played elsewhere that could come close to what we played in the U.S. But the game is going international now, and maybe that will make it easier for Japanese Americans to break into the American teams as well.”

Christine Odanaka, a varsity player at Walnut High School, said that a story like Misaka’s is where the confidence to compete against anyone begins.

“I think this shows how Japanese people can play basketball and not always be somewhat of a minority,” she said.

Seattle Manager Hopes What He Does Highlights Who He Is by Hugo Kugiya

December 26, 2008
Seattle Manager Hopes What He Does Highlights Who He Is
By HUGO KUGIYA

As a major league catcher, Don Wakamatsu was a footnote: 18 games for the Chicago White Sox in 1991. But he could say proudly that he played baseball at every level.

Wakamatsu’s true distinction might have been overlooked but for his surname. He was a minority twice over, not just the great-grandson of a Japanese dairy farmer, but also one of the few Asian-Americans to play in the major leagues.

“My failures put me in a position to be where I am now,” Wakamatsu, 45, said. “One of my goals as a player was to bring recognition to my heritage. Since that didn’t come to fruition, I’m especially fortunate to be where I am now.”

When he was introduced last month as the Seattle Mariners’ manager, the first of Asian descent in the majors, Wakamatsu talked about serving as a metaphorical steppingstone for other Asian-Americans in sports.

“I dived into my past, going back to visit my grandma, learning more about my family,” he said by telephone from his home in Texas. “They went through a lot of things. It meant something, and I thought I ought to know more about it since I wasn’t exposed to it much as a child.”

The implications of his heritage first struck him when a government check arrived in the mail in the late 1980s, his father’s share of reparations for the internment of Japanese-Americans in the 1940s. Wakamatsu’s father, Leland, was born in the Tule Lake camp in California, just south of the Oregon border.

“I didn’t understand what the check was for,” Wakamatsu said. “You don’t study that stuff in school. My grandparents never talked about it. I remember my dad’s reaction, that it was all too little, too late.”

Wakamatsu’s paternal grandparents, James and Ruth, lost their home when they reported to Tule Lake, the largest camp. Ruth worked in the mess hall; James was a carpenter.



After the war, Wakamatsu’s grandparents and their children moved into a pickers’ cabin, then a converted barn. James started to build a house nearby out of salvaged panels, which he bought off a truck from a man who said they came from the barracks of an internment camp, perhaps even Tule Lake. They live in that house to this day.

Wakamatsu’s grandparents grew pears, apples and cherries to supplement their incomes. James worked in a mill, Ruth in a fruit-packing plant, putting in 30 years at their jobs. They can hardly comprehend that their grandson makes his living from a game.

“We’ve worked ever since we were kids,” Ruth, 91, said. “Our whole lives, we were too busy working to think about anything else.”

Over the years, Wakamatsu’s curiosity about his heritage has grown along with his influence in baseball, the sport closest to the hearts of Japanese-Americans. From a friendship with the baseball historian Kerry Nakagawa came detailed descriptions of Japanese-Americans who played organized baseball in the internment camps. Wakamatsu imagined the game he loved played behind coils of barbed wire, and wondered just how little he knew about his past.

He was an all-conference catcher at Arizona State for three seasons, but only after he left did he learn that the university’s first baseball coach, Bill Kajikawa, was Japanese-American.

Kajikawa, he learned, served in World War II, as did several of Wakamatsu’s great-uncles, with the 442nd Regimental Combat Team, the mostly Japanese-American battalion that was among the war’s most decorated units. Wakamatsu talked often about “those who came before me,” the men in his family, Kajikawa and other forebears like his boyhood idol, Lenn Sakata, perhaps the most successful Asian-American baseball player. “I love the game,” Wakamatsu said, “but I’m not in the game just to say, I was a big-league manager. I want to see how many players I can help. And if I can be some kind of positive influence for the Japanese and Asian-American community in Seattle, well, I have a greater chance of doing that there than in Pittsburgh.”

He added: “I couldn’t have scripted a better place to be. It is coming home in a sense.”

His paternal great-grandparents, Eataro and Hisa Wakamatsu, arrived a century ago in Orting, Wash., about 40 miles from Seattle, and settled farther south in Hood River, Ore., where Wakamatsu was born. His Irish-American mother, Sandy, a dental assistant, and his father, an ironworker, came from families who farmed the river valley.

Although Wakamatsu grew up mostly in the Oakland suburb of Hayward, Calif., he spent many summers and holidays in Hood River, performing chores in his grandparents’ orchard. He watched his relatives pound mochi, a Japanese rice cake, as they celebrated the new year. He sat wordlessly at the foot of his great-grandmother, who spoke no English. She addressed him in Japanese, knowing he could not understand her.

“I can still see her face laughing,” Wakamatsu said. “What a shame, I thought, that I couldn’t speak Japanese.”

Although the number of Asian-Americans has grown to about 15 million from roughly 1.5 million in 1960s, when Wakamatsu was born, few have become sports stars. Champion figure skaters like Kristi Yamaguchi and Michelle Kwan are exceptions, along with the tennis player Michael Chang and Apolo Anton Ohno, who has won five Olympic medals in speedskating.

The burden Asian-Americans in sports view as their own is being perceived as not fully American. Oakland Athletics catcher Kurt Suzuki, for instance, said fans and sometimes players assumed he was Japanese.

“It’s entertaining to see how many fans absolutely expect me to be Japanese,” said Suzuki, 25, who grew up in Hawaii. “I just look at them with this blank stare.”

The first two Asian-Americans to play in the majors were also from Hawaii. Pitcher Ryan Kurosaki made seven relief appearances with the St. Louis Cardinals in 1975. Two years later, Sakata became the second, playing most of his 11 seasons with the Baltimore Orioles. Now 54, Sakata is a minor league manager in Japan.

“He was the one guy that I followed,” Wakamatsu said. “For me, there was always that issue of looking for that identity.”

After seven seasons as a coach with American League West teams, Wakamatsu said, he bonded with Suzuki “as soon as I walked in the door” and served as his unofficial mentor when he was Oakland’s bench coach last season.

Suzuki’s parents are Japanese-American, but it was Wakamatsu who knew more about their struggles. He is actively involved with the Japanese American Citizens League, a civil rights organization, and well read on the history of Japanese-Americans in baseball.

“He was the reason I read up so much about Japanese-American history,” said Suzuki, believed to be the only Asian-American in the majors last season. “We talked more about that than we talked about baseball.”

They immediately felt the weight of the coincidence: two Japanese-Americans, teacher and pupil, on the same bench. As far as they could tell, this had never happened.

“The truth is I really wanted him to succeed where I had failed,” Wakamatsu said. “I think it’s quite a coincidence that I ended up being the guy who came along and joined the team at that stage of Kurt’s development. What are the chances?”

Asian Americans remain rare in men's college basketball

Asian Americans remain rare in men's college basketball
Bryan Chu, Special to The Chronicle

Tuesday, December 16, 2008

More...
(12-15) 21:03 PST -- Jeremy Lin has seen it and heard it.

Too short. Too skinny. Picked last. Asian.

Those tags stick to Lin wherever he goes, even as the starting point guard for Harvard's basketball team.

"It's a sport for white and black people," Lin said. "You don't get respect for being an Asian American basketball player in the U.S."

Although the game is brimming in popularity among Asian American youth - there are Asian leagues, club teams like the San Jose Ninjas and San Jose Zebras, and packed courts outside schools, churches and temples - Lin practically is alone.

Of 4,814 Division I men's basketball players in 2006-07, there were 19 Asian Americans (including Pacific Islanders and ethnically mixed), according to the most recent NCAA Student-Athlete Race and Ethnicity Report. That's 0.4 percent.

Players, coaches and sociologists cite stereotypes and cultural factors as reasons that percentage might not rise very much in the foreseeable future. At the same time, there are players and coaches making inroads to mainstream, high-profile basketball, and there's a feeling of pioneer spirit among them.

"Especially now that there are lots of Asian Americans growing up and playing, I have to try to hold my own in college," Lin said. "It's definitely motivational and it gives me a chip on my shoulder."

Lin, who leads the Crimson (4-4) in points, steals and assists and is second in rebounds, is one of the best Asian American basketball players to come from the Bay Area.

After Palo Alto High won the Division II state title in 2006, Lin's senior season, he was named first-team All-State and Northern California Division II Player of the Year. He was The Chronicle's Metro Player of the Year. Considering those honors and his senior stats - 15.1 points, 7.1 assists, 6.2 rebounds and five steals - Lin thought he'd get at least a few Division I scholarship offers.

He got none.

"I'm not saying top-5 state automatically gets you offers," Lin said, "but I do think (my ethnicity) did affect the way coaches recruited me. I think if I were a different race, I would've been treated differently."

At Harvard, the 6-foot-3 junior has faced harsh conditions on the road.

"I hear everything: 'Go back to China. Orchestra is on the other side of campus. Open up your eyes,' " Lin said. "They're yelling at me before, during and after. I'm an easy target because I'm Asian. Sometimes it makes me uncomfortable, but it's part of the game."

Kelvin Kim, who transferred from UCLA and now is the starting point guard for UC San Diego, sees it in his everyday encounters with classmates.

"No one expects me to be a basketball player," said Kim, who is from Lake Forest (Orange County).

Kirk Kim went to Salesian High in Richmond and walked on at Cal in the late '90s. He said, "Automatically, playing - especially in the inner city - you get no respect being Asian."

Thin coaching ranks
Coaches face similar hurdles.

Seattle Pacific's Jeff Hironaka is considered the only current Asian American Division II head coach. He has 28 years of coaching experience and an 121-59 record in six-plus seasons as the Falcons' head coach. As an assistant, he helped them to at least a share of six conference championships and a national semifinal appearance in 2000.

Hironaka has interviewed in vain for Division I jobs.

"I was told they needed to hire an African American, and another school said they needed to hire a Caucasian," Hironaka said. "I'm not one or the other, so then I'm out.

"I understand assistant coaches you have to recruit - most (players) are Caucasian - so they ask, 'What can you help us do? Recruit Asians?' "

Hironaka continued: "You don't want to call it discrimination, but it's a discrimination kind of scenario. Sometimes you have to accept the reality of it. It's a tough barrier to crack."

Rex Walters, now in his first season as head coach at USF, is considered the only Asian American Division I men's basketball head coach. On his staff is assistant coach Danny Yoshikawa, a Japanese American who was conference player of the year at UC Davis in 1996.

"We've slowly, steadily grown," said Yoshikawa of Asian Americans breaking into the game. "I would've never seen two (Asian Americans) at USF. I just think that those kinds of things just take place over time.

"It's more getting to the point where people are going to hire guys - maybe it's because they're getting over the stigmas - because they are doing a good job."

One case in point is the Miami Heat's Erik Spoelstra. Spoelstra, who played at the University of Portland, this year became the first Filipino American head coach in the NBA.

Though Lin and Kelvin Kim are starting in college, getting to the NBA is a longshot for almost everyone. Given the tiny pool of Asian Americans in the college game, the chance of a player making it to the top is small indeed.

Walters was a rare exception.

A standout at Kansas, Walters, who is hapa (his mother, Yoko, is Japanese and his father, Monte, is Caucasian), was taken 16th in the 1993 NBA draft, one of the first Asian Americans to make it to the pros. He spent eight seasons in the league.

Walters not optimistic
Now, from his point of view as a recruiter, Walters thinks youth trends are reducing the crop of potential Asian American players.

"I wanted to be a basketball player and I invested all my time into that," Walters said. "It's a totally different thinking now. You see kids spending time playing PlayStation 3 and that's time lost in the gym.

"When I was growing up, there were lots of good Asian American basketball players. I haven't seen those same types (while recruiting)."

Some other recent examples of Asian Americans in basketball: Blake Wallace is a junior forward at USF; Bobby Nash, a swingman at Hawaii last season, signed with the Shiga Lakestars of Basketball Japan; and Derrick Low, the former Washington State guard, signed with the Sydney Spirit in Australia's National Basketball League.

Wallace and Nash are both 6-6, two examples that contradict stature stereotypes. And one prominent coach sees the mixing of all races as a factor in the future of Asian American players.

"Society has come to be interracial marriages, and because of that, you're seeing (Asian Americans) that are bigger and stronger," said Darren Matsubara, basketball consultant for adidas basketball and coach for the EBO/2K Sports AAU team. "There are going to be more players coming up now."

However, the number of Asian Americans on prominent teams remains disproportionately low.

In the NCAA's eight-year ethnic-background survey, the smallest total of Asian Americans in Division I men's basketball was 10 (2003-04) and the largest was 27 (2005-06).

Family priorities
"I do think it's startling," said Jere Takahashi, a sociologist in Asian American Studies at Cal. "At the same time, I found talking to student-athletes ... (that) families don't emphasize sports; they put emphasis on academics.

"Whether coming from an immigrant family or a family of three or four generations, (schoolwork) becomes the interest of parents."

Professor Henry Yu, who taught Asian American studies at UCLA for 14 years and is now at the University of British Columbia, said people often categorize Asians as being too short as the reason why there aren't more players in the game. That's not the case.

Yu offers two factors why the odds are against Asian Americans.

The first is Asian American families putting pressure on young males to earn a paycheck, which is very difficult to do as an athlete.

"There's a reason why the Asian athletes are coming from overseas," Yu said. "If you're growing up in North America, there are family values and pressures to become a good husband. There's a sense of family ideology, and dreaming to be a professional athlete is not a good idea. It's frowned upon."

The second factor is the difficulty for Asian Americans to break into established sports networks like into the AAU web, college programs and the coaching scene.

"Those networks are very strong and often are racial," Yu said. "That's why it's so hard for blacks to get into coaching.

"That force has slowed down African Americans and Latinos up until 30 years ago. Hispanic players are now the largest minority playing baseball. It took a lot for the dam to break, but I don't see it breaking for Asian Americans."

Matsubara, who played at Cal State Northridge, says players are fighting themselves.

"It really starts with the mind," Matsubara said. "Most Asian basketball players are defeated before they start. There's the stereotype that Asians don't play ball. Then you have people in the community being negative toward you ... so then you begin to think, 'Why pursue this?'

"In Asian basketball, if an individual can understand and accept going outside the box, then you'll start to see more players."

Yet Matsubara said in the 15 years he has been scouting players that it seems Asian Americans "have been discouraged and given up."

Lin and Kelvin Kim are in the position of being role models.

"(People) come up to me and let me know how much they look up to me and they ask me for advice," Kim said. "It makes me feel motivated that they're looking up to me, and the fact that I can be, like, that light to them basketball-wise, it motivates me to want to do that and be as successful as possible.

"I've had people from Korea hit me up on Facebook who were trying to play basketball, and people from Canada."

When it comes to role models, Lin and Kelvin Kim do look up to the NBA players from China, the Rockets' Yao Ming and the Nets' Yi Jianlian. Lin and Kim each wants to leave his own mark.

"I'm on my own mission, and there aren't many people who can relate to me," Lin said. "(My parents) try to tell me to plan ahead and they tell me basketball isn't going to feed you for the rest of your life.

"But I feel like I have something to prove to everyone out there. In a sense, I'm trying to represent Asian Americans on the basketball court and I'm trying to be the best player and reach my potential."

By the numbers
Number of Asian Americans in NCAA men's college basketball, according to the NCAA:

Year DI DII DIII
1999-00 15 17 45
2000-01 12 18 54
2001-02 11 19 48
2002-03 11 20 54
2003-04 10 27 53
2004-05 20 31 46
2005-06 27 27 61
2006-07 19 35 38

Meanwhile:


From 1999 to 2007, the number of Asian American Division I women's basketball players has gone up in six years. In 2005-06, there were 76, the most ever recorded.

Bryan Chu, a former Chronicle staff writer, is on staff at the San Antonio Express-News. E-mail comments on this article to letterstogreen@sfchronicle.com.

http://sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/c/a/2008/12/16/SPD213J9RD.DTL

This article appeared on page C - 1 of the San Francisco Chronicle