Terracist

Learning from the Japanese

Imagine if the hundred year history of league football in England was wiped away, and that from the start of next season history and tradition were thrown out of the window. That’s a good analogy for the Japanese game. In a country where the modern professional era is less than twenty years old - and where the majority of fans were in their home cities before they even had a professional club - Japanese football teams are able to experiment and innovate at every level of their operations.

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During my time in Japan, I’ve been regularly attending J League 2 games at my local stadium, the home of Avispa Fukuoka. From the very first time I headed to the Hakata no Mori, on a sticky night in early September, I’ve been struck by the distinct differences between the match-day experiences in Japan and England respectively.

Buying Tickets

Unless you’re a season ticket holder in England, you’ll no doubt be one of those people who trudges to the ticket office on a weekday afternoon, or turns up on the day of a game to queue for a ticket. In Japan, there’s really no need. Tickets for games are available on demand from any of the thousands of convenience stores in the city. You throw in your cash, and your ticket is printed there and then from the vending machine. The average price for a ticket for an Avispa game is ¥2000, which is around £10. Should you inexplicably forget to buy your ticket in advance, they are typically available to buy at the stadium, without the price hikes incurred by fans buying on the day at many English grounds.

Season Ticket holders at Avispa are also really well looked after. An ST holder receives club merchandise gifts at every home game, whether that is a player figure, or a poster, it’s something small in appreciation of continued support and investment in the club. In England, and at Manchester United in particular, a season ticket is more like an ongoing commitment and obligation to buy more tickets than it is an opportunity for the club to thank it’s most loyal patrons. ST holders are also occasionally given additional tickets to bring a friend or family member along, the hope of course being that they will entice those new fans back regularly to enjoy games.

Food and Drinks

The most frequent compliant you hear from English football fans is the shocking combination of appalling quality, and ridiculous pricing when it comes to nourishment from stadium vendors. At my club, Coventry City, you’re unlikely to get change from £5 for something quick to eat, and a drink. Here in Japan, price is still a concern, but the difference is in the quality. pre-game at the Hakata no Mori, lined up behind the main stand are independent vendors selling delicious, high quality foods. They include local specialities, foreign imports from Brazil and Germany, and a wide and varied selection of food, beer, soft-drinks and snacks. The atmosphere in this area is starkly different to the concourses of premier league football grounds. Replace that over-biding sense of resentment and disaffection with a carnival-like atmosphere, with people milling around to chat with friends, and enjoy some food before heading into the stands. Japanese fans will turn up for games hours before kick-off to get into the mood by enjoying this part of the match-day experience.

And better than that even, all of those vendors, representatives of the local business community are benefiting too. The money is not disappearing into the books of some massive mulit-national, it goes to the man who owns the noodle store a few miles away, or the family who make a living cooking chicken in the neighbouring part of town. Remember when football in England used to be about community? This is something which could easily be adopted by English clubs. The current system leaves the club with a lot of responsibility, and a lot of flak from unhappy fans. The revenue can instead come from selling pitches to stall-holders, and allowing them to reap the rewards, and to deal with customers in their own specialist fields. After all, football clubs really should be selling football, not cold pies and warm beer.

To the Game

The Japan you’ve seen and heard about is an uptight, obedient society which frowns on individualism. The Japan I see when I go to a football game is quiet different. pre-determined standing/singing areas, musical instruments, flags, bunting and crescendos of song are ever present through-out the 90 minutes of play. In England, we have large, soulless stadiums, where the most enthusiastic fans are dispersed too broadly to have any impact on noise levels, and where over-zealous stewards seem intent on sucking any joy out of the occasion which remains after the pre-match monetary insults. Hillsborough is the word that you’ll hear over and over again when you talk about standing areas at football grounds, and we rightly learnt from that horrific event. But, and I say this having seen how it works in Japan, lets encourage supporters to make as much noise as possible, encourage drumming, and singing, and flag waving. It might dampen the disappointment of paying such a premium if people were allowed to enjoy their time at the stadium. The Japanese ‘ultras’ are a far cry from the Brazilian and Italian hordes they are named after, and if we can keep the violent element away from these club facilitated improvements, you’ll soon notice people getting behind their teams with the sort of verve and vigour that they remember exerting in decades gone by.

Here’s another novel idea we could borrow from the Japanese. When the final whistle blows, whether the team have won, drawn, or been humiliated by their fiercest rivals on their own turf, Japanese players walk to the pitch-side and thank the fans for their support during the game. Granted, it’s a very Japanese affair, but bowing and gentle handp-clapping isn’t necessary. What should be demanded is that the players make more than a token gesture of a wave from the centre circle as they trudge off down the tunnel, leaving the real lifeblood of the club to leave without being shown how much they mean to the club. A pitch-side, en masse salute from all of the playing staff would be much appreciated, and would go a small way to redressed the notion that footballers are driven only by the financial gains their contracts offer. Conversely, when they win, it would be nice for the fans to be able to thank them too. After-all it is those people in the stands who care the most. They will be in those same seats long after those players have moved on, and deserve some credit.

Marketing Materials

The age of the £5 match-day programme has yet to reach Japanese shores. But that doesn’t mean that fans go without any form of match-day information. Ticket gates are laden with staff handing out team-sheets, fixture-lists and song sheets, all for free and often including some sort of special offers for fans buying tickets, or merchandise. For the person attending their first game, it removes the trepidation of being in a strange environment when you are furnished with all of the information you need to enjoy the spectacle to it’s fullest. You may sing-along, learn players names, and plot your next opportunity to attend a game, without ever having to pay money for the privilege. That would surely go down well in England, but the chances of any club giving up that advertising catalogue they call a programme? Zero. Still, they might at least start making it easier for first time attendees to get involved.

In Conclusion

The Japanese match-day experience is far more about the fans. It focuses on making the entire experience - from buying a ticket, to buying your next ticket - a pleasant experience. You are made - as a fan - to feel appreciated for your support of the local team, and of the local businesses which it partners with. A look around at the make-up of a Japanese football crowd tells a story. Families. Men, Women and Children able to spend a reasonable amount of money, and enjoy what is - remember - an entertainment medium. How often do you see that in an English ground, where prices, facilities and compassion from the club are low in supply? Not very, I would guess.

History is a difficult master, and whilst we should embrace the annals of our footballing past, we need to appreciate that the club which succeeds in the modern environment will be the club which can encourage the part-time fans to come more often, or the stay-away supporters to buy a ticket. You can’t do that unless you make it easier, cheaper, and more pleasant for people who will happily go to the cinema, or a rugby game instead.

This post was added on June 2nd, 2008 and currently has 1 Comment it is filed under: asia