Taiwan Baseball by Brent Hannon

It’s a calm summer evening in Hsinchuang, a suburb of Taipei. Kites fly in the blue sky, children play, smoke rises from barbecues. The scene is peaceful. But inside Hsinchuang Baseball Stadium, it’s more like a madhouse. Attention is fiercely riveted on the field, where the beloved Brother Elephants are losing to the Chinatrust Whales, 6-0, in the fourth inning.

But soon the Elephants score two runs, and two innings later, in a flurry of base hits, they score five more times, sending their yellow-clad fans into a crescendo of flag-waving, drum-pounding, trumpet-blowing support. Eventually, the hometown Elephants beat the Whales 8-6, after surviving a bases-loaded jam in the top of the ninth.

It’s a dramatic comeback for the Elephants, and their fans walk happily away into the night. The presence of so many supporters, sitting in a brand-new ballpark and cheering with synchronized gusto, is an equally dramatic comeback for baseball in Taiwan.

Led by new baseball parks, by the success of the Elephants, and by Taiwan team victories against tough international competition, the island’s national pastime is enjoying a renaissance. Attendance at Chinese Professional Baseball League games has risen 70 percent so far this year, and gate receipts have almost doubled. The All-Star game in the new Tienmu Baseball Stadium was a popular affair, drawing 5,100 fans, including Taipei mayor Ma Ying-jeou, who swung and missed at a ceremonial pitch.

Baseball has a long history in Taiwan. The Japanese taught the game to the locals, who turned around and beat their colonial masters in a landmark tournament in 1930. The game surged in popularity in the 1960s, as the Taiwan little league team won the first if its 17 world titles. The Chinese Professional Baseball League was founded in 1990, and two years later, Taiwan’s national team won a silver medal in the Barcelona Olympics.

Baseball fever in Taiwan peaked in 1996. That year, more than 1.3 million fans poured into ballparks around the island, and television ratings hit the stratosphere. The games were raucous, ear-splitting events, as fans set off fireworks, banged drums, blew air horns, yelled into bullhorns, and supported their teams with an unrelenting, deafening chorus of noise.

Then came the gambling scandal of 1997, a sorry affair in which players were kidnapped and threatened, and many games were fixed. Attendance fell more than 50 percent, TV ratings plunged, three teams folded, and the future of Taiwanese baseball was in grave doubt.

The current revival began in October 2001, when the Chinese Professional league championship series attracted more than 10,000 fans per game, and TV ratings soared. A month later, Taiwan hosted the World Cup of Baseball, and the Taiwanese team took third place, beating Japan in the final game. A joyful celebration followed the win over Japan, as thousands of fans poured into the streets and staged an impromptu victory parade, following the team bus for miles.

The sport is set to get another boost from the U.S., where several Taiwanese players are poised to break into the most glamorous league in the world. Outfielder Chen Chin-fong of the Los Angeles Dodgers minor leagues is a can’t-miss prospect, while pitcher Tsao Chin-hui was given a US$2.2 million signing bonus by the Colorado Rockies. In all, seven Taiwanese players have been signed by American teams, and hopes are high that one of them can be like Ichiro, a Japanese player who has been a huge success in the U.S.

The most visible reason for Taiwan’s baseball revival are the new ballparks, two in Taipei and one in Kaohsiung. Old Municipal Stadium in downtown Taipei was torn down after the 2000 season, and nobody misses it. The old stadium had no seats - people sat on dirty concrete – and the outfield was a brown patchwork filled with the sort of swampy puddles that usually attract biology classes.

The brand-new Tienmu stadium is a sharp contrast to the old stadium, but the 10,000-seat park will host just 12 baseball games this summer, as the rich residents of Tienmu have protested against the noise and the traffic. But during the latest All-Star Game, the Tienmu fans behaved themselves: not a single air horn shattered the evening calm, and the drums were curiously muted. As it turns out, no air horns are allowed in Tienmu Stadium, and drums bigger than 30cm across are banned.

No such restrictions apply at Hsinchuang Baseball Stadium, which opened in 2000, with a capacity of 5,000. This little neighbourhood park is a gem, more intimate than Tienmu Stadium, but likewise filled with broad concourses, abundant restrooms, and comfortable, close-to-the-field seats. The field is natural grass – after all, Elephants, Lions and Bulls, let alone Whales, can’t be expected to play on artificial turf. The food is good – grilled sausages on sticks, with roasted garlic - and the beer is cold. Let’s play ball!

Many of the fans at the games are teenage girls, who bring a touch of Beatlemania to the new ballyards. Squealing and laughing, they surge forward for autographs and pictures. The hip young players, many with streaked hair and tattoos, are respectful, even shy, in the face of such adoration.

At the Elephant-Whale game, I sit next to Jui-Ho Hong, owner of the Elephants. It’s a fine evening, with the sun setting over the grandstand, perfect weather for a ball game. And so it goes for the next five innings, as the fans settle in. Darkness falls, the lights flicker on, and a full moon comes up in right field.

Not surprisingly, Hong says the revival of baseball in Taiwan is due to the resurgence of his Elephants, who won the 2001 title. “Baseball is popular again because of the baseball World Cup, and because my team won the championship,” says Hong. Baseball in Taiwan has a bright future, says Hong. “If we can win the championship again, next year will be even better,” he says.