Japanese Baseball vs. MLB: How Watching a Game Differs
2026年9月12日
An American friend went to his first game at Koshien and spent two innings waiting for the noise to die down. It never did. By the fifth he had worked out that the singing switches sides with the half-innings, by the seventh he was holding a balloon, and somewhere around the ninth he said the thing everyone says: this feels closer to a soccer match than to a night at the ballpark back home.
The rules are nearly identical. The experience is not. Here is what actually changes when you watch Japanese baseball instead of MLB, from the crowd and the chants to the beer, the food, and the way the game itself gets played.
In an American ballpark, the noise comes in waves, driven by what happens on the field and by whatever the scoreboard operator decides to play between pitches. In Japan, the noise is run by people.
Every NPB club has an oendan, a cheering squad with trumpets, taiko drums, flags and a conductor working from a platform in the outfield stands. They start before the first pitch and keep going for three hours. The crowd follows them, which means thousands of people clapping in the same rhythm on the same beat all night.
The effect takes some adjusting to. An MLB crowd reacts to the game. A Japanese crowd performs alongside it, and the volume has almost nothing to do with the score.
我们将为您量身定制一份含报价的日本行程，随时可按喜好调整。
This is the part with no MLB equivalent at all. Each player on the roster has an ouenka, a short fight song with its own melody and lyrics, and the crowd sings it every time he steps in.
Walk-up music in the majors lasts eight seconds and belongs to the player. An ouenka belongs to the fans, runs for the entire at-bat, and stops the instant the plate appearance ends. Veterans accumulate songs that crowds have sung for a decade, and a long-serving player coming off the bench in a tight spot gets a reception no sound system can manufacture.
The songs are learnable. Most clubs publish the lyrics, the trumpet line tells you when to come in, and nobody minds if you are a beat behind.
The biggest adjustment for an American fan is the half-inning split. The home crowd goes full volume when the home team is batting, then falls close to silent when it takes the field. The visiting section does the reverse.
Visiting supporters are not scattered through the stands either. They sit in their own designated block, usually a section of outfield seating, and they bring their own oendan, their own drums, and their own flags. Two organized crowds trade off cleanly instead of shouting over each other, which is why NPB games are loud without ever feeling hostile.
Heckling barely exists. Booing is rare. When a visiting star comes to the plate, the home crowd mostly goes quiet and lets the away section have its moment.
MLB has the seventh-inning stretch and a song most of the crowd half-remembers. Japan calls it Lucky Seven and treats it as the emotional center of the night.
Most clubs release jet balloons as the team song plays, thousands of them going up at once in team colors. That tradition vanished for seven seasons during the pandemic years and returned in 2026 under new rules, with fans using team-issued balloons inflated by pump rather than by mouth.
Tokyo Yakult Swallows fans skip the balloons and open small plastic umbrellas instead, bobbing them in time every time the team scores. It is the most recognizable crowd image in Japanese sport, and Jingu Stadium sells the umbrellas at the gate for anyone who turns up without one.
American parks send a vendor down the aisle with a tray of cans. Japanese parks send the uriko, mostly young women carrying pressurized kegs that weigh over 30 pounds, who kneel in your row and pour a fresh beer in front of you.
A cup typically runs in the ¥500 to ¥800 range, well under the going rate at most major league parks. They take payment at the seat, they are quick, and dozens of them work the same section, so you rarely wait more than a minute for the brand you want.
Replica jerseys go on over street clothes rather than instead of them, so a stand full of Tigers fans is a stand full of office workers in yellow and black pullovers. Happi coats, hachimaki headbands and team-colored hand towels are just as common as jerseys.
The hand towel matters more than it looks. Several clubs build a towel routine into their chants, and holding one over your head at the right moment is the easiest way to join in without knowing a single lyric. Most parks sell them at the gate for a few hundred yen.
Plastic megaphone sticks are the other standard kit. They cost very little, they clap themselves, and they are the reason an NPB crowd of 30,000 can sound like twice that number.
Hot dogs and fried snacks exist in Japan, but nobody builds a night around them. The concourse sells bento boxes, yakitori skewers, karaage, ramen, and regional specialties tied to the city you are in.
At Es Con Field in Hokkaido that means seafood rice bowls, soup curry, Sapporo miso ramen, and jingisukan lamb, plus a brewpub behind the outfield wall making beer on site. Hiroshima sells okonomiyaki. Fukuoka sells tonkotsu ramen. Prices sit closer to a downtown food hall than to an MLB markup.
Many parks also let you bring your own food in, as long as you leave cans and glass at the gate. A few ban outside food entirely, so check before you pack.
The rulebook is close but not identical, and the differences add up over nine innings.
Season length: NPB teams play 143 games to MLB's 162, which gives each game a little more weight.
Ties: regular season games stop after 12 innings, and a level score is recorded as a tie rather than settled by extra innings.
The ball: NPB uses a Mizuno ball measuring roughly 8.875 to 9.125 inches in circumference against MLB's 9 to 9.25, and the tackier surface helps pitchers get more movement.
The designated hitter: the Pacific League has used one since 1975 while the Central League still lets pitchers bat, so the lineup depends on which club is hosting.
Pace: there is no pitch clock in NPB, so games run a little over three hours, while MLB has pulled its average down near two hours and 45 minutes.
Roster rules differ too. NPB clubs carry 28 players and dress 25 for a given game, most teams run a six-man rotation rather than five, and each club may field no more than four foreign players at a time. Small ball also survives here. Sacrifice bunts and hit-and-run plays that analytics largely retired in the majors are still standard tools in Japan.
Stadium dimensions run smaller on average as well, and several NPB parks have outfield distances that would fall short of MLB's own minimum standards. The full rule and equipment comparison has the specifics if you want them.
MLB runs 162 games into a playoff bracket of up to four rounds, with three wild card teams per league. NPB runs 143 games into the Climax Series, a much shorter playoff in which the league winner starts the final stage with a one-game advantage already banked.
Interleague play is concentrated rather than spread out. The Central and Pacific Leagues meet in a short block in May and June and then not again until the Japan Series, which keeps the two halves of the league genuinely separate for most of the year.
The Japan Series itself can run past seven games. Because ties are possible, a series tied at three wins each with a drawn game in it simply continues, which has no equivalent in the American format.
NPB sits below MLB in overall depth and above any minor league. The gap shows up at the back of rosters rather than the front.
The top of an NPB roster travels well. Shohei Ohtani and Yu Darvish both came out of the Nippon-Ham Fighters, Yoshinobu Yamamoto left Orix for the Dodgers in 2024, Shota Imanaga went from Yokohama to the Cubs the same winter, and Roki Sasaki followed from Chiba Lotte in 2025. Watching a 21-year-old ace in Japan now carries a decent chance that you are watching a future major leaguer.
Pitching is the strength. Command is prized over raw velocity, breaking balls are used earlier in counts, and the tackier ball makes the splitter a standard weapon rather than a specialty pitch.
Nothing in American sport matches Koshien. Every August the national high school championship takes over Hanshin Koshien Stadium for two weeks, with 49 teams representing the 47 prefectures after regional qualifiers that involve thousands of schools.
Every game is broadcast live on NHK, the stadium fills for weekday morning games, and losing teams famously carry home bags of Koshien dirt. If you are in the Kansai area in August, it is the single best baseball ticket in the country, and it costs a fraction of a pro game.
A reserved infield seat at an NPB game generally runs a few thousand yen, and the cheapest reserved seating starts near ¥1,000. Comparable seats at most MLB parks cost several times that once fees are added.
Availability works differently too. Most NPB games have seats left on the day, with Giants and Tigers home games as the main exceptions. That makes a Japanese game something you can decide on over lunch, which almost never works in the American market.
Low demand is not the reason. NPB drew a record 27.04 million fans across the 2025 season at an average of about 31,500 per game, its second straight record year. The Tigers averaged nearly 41,800 and the Giants nearly 39,800.
Japanese fans clean their rows. Trash bags circulate through the stands, people carry their own garbage to the bins on the way out, and the seating bowl looks close to untouched twenty minutes after the final out.
Alcohol service stays civil, and security is light. It is normal to see families with small children in the outfield sections at a night game, and the organized noise stops the moment the game ends. The crowd files out quietly, which after three hours of drums is its own kind of strange.
They are built for different things. MLB gives you a higher average standard of play, bigger ballparks, more home runs, and a game that the pitch clock has genuinely tightened up. The scale of a full Dodger Stadium or Yankee Stadium is its own argument.
NPB gives you a crowd that never stops, better food, cheaper seats, and traditions with no American equivalent. It also gives you a game that is easier to get into on short notice, which matters a lot when you are traveling.
If you only get one, take the Japanese game while you are in Japan. Start with a beginner's guide to NPB to sort out tickets and seating, then pick a park that fits the trip you are already taking.
A Tokyo-to-Hokkaido rail route takes in two very different ballparks on the same trip, one a dome in the middle of Tokyo and one a glass-walled stadium in a Hokkaido field.
The northern end of that route is Es Con Field in Kitahiroshima, which has the one amenity no major league park can match.
Buy a ticket for the stadium onsen and you can watch an inning from a hot spring behind left field. Once you have done that, the seventh-inning stretch back home is going to feel a little thin.
