Shohei Ohtani: The Ubiquitous Icon of Japanese Baseball

Shohei Ohtani: The Ubiquitous Icon of Japanese Baseball

TOKYO — If you’ve ever wandered through the bustling streets of Tokyo, you might have felt the omnipresence of Shohei Ohtani. Whether it’s a towering electronic billboard or a humble convenience store banner, Ohtani’s image is everywhere. I’ve seen him in jeans and a white T-shirt, standing amidst a field of green tea leaves, holding a bottle of Ito En iced tea. This image, like a recurring dream, has appeared before me countless times. Then there’s the dual Ohtani, lounging on a Sleeptech mattress pad, one with a bat, the other without, both seemingly lost in thoughts of baseball.

As I strolled through Shibuya Crossing, the busiest pedestrian intersection in the world, Ohtani’s face looked down upon me from three different directions. He was there for New Balance, DIP, and a men’s fragrance called Kosé. In Shinjuku, he’s 100 feet tall on the side of a building, posing with Seiko watches. It’s as if one stock image of Ohtani has been repurposed for an endless array of advertisements.

At nearly every FamilyMart store, Ohtani is there, promoting the MLB World Tour: Tokyo Series, holding up onigiri and perhaps pondering the duration of his promotional duties. On television, he’s donned an apron, preparing ramen with the precision of a seasoned chef. He’s kicked a soccer ball on a beach for a green tea commercial, and transformed from Dodger Ohtani to samurai Ohtani in a Fortnite ad. His presence is even felt in taxi TVs, looping endlessly in the backseat.

During the teams’ workouts in Tokyo, a massive screen outside the Tokyo Dome played a mashup of Ohtani commercials, drawing a crowd eager to capture the moment on their phones. “Shohei’s impact in Japan is impossible to overstate,” says Dodgers president Andrew Friedman. “We thought we understood it, but until you see it and live it, you can’t fully grasp it.”

Ohtani’s presence in Japan is more than just a media phenomenon; it’s a cultural one. For seven years, he’s been a figure on countless screens, yet his presence feels as close as the nearest street corner. Baseball fans in Japan plan their days around Dodgers games, which often start in the late morning. It’s a level of fame that seems almost too vast for one person to handle.

Friedman adds, “Every time I go to Japan, I think, ‘Well, Shohei, I didn’t miss you at all. I see you everywhere.'” Ohtani’s mother, Kayoko, manages his business dealings in Japan, and she’s clearly excelling. While Ohtani is selective with endorsements, it’s hard to imagine he’s turning down many offers.

Ohtani’s value extends beyond personal gain; it’s a boon for baseball and the Dodgers. For six days, Tokyo transformed into a massive ATM. MLB set up a 30,000-square-foot store at the Tokyo Dome, selling Dodgers and Cubs merchandise. The demand for Ohtani jerseys was so high that fans lined up 10 deep just to check sizes. Topps created a four-story baseball card exhibit in Shibuya, featuring donations from Ohtani, including the base he stole to complete his 50/50 season and a bat from the World Series. His deal with Topps netted $7 million last season, even though card collecting is relatively new in Japan.

Japan Airlines has an Ohtani-themed plane, and travel agencies offer tours to Los Angeles for fans to watch him play. At Dodger Stadium, concession stands and signage have evolved to reflect his influence. Ohtani’s estimated $65 million in annual endorsement income in 2024, the highest of any baseball player, made it easier for him to defer nearly all of his $700 million contract, allowing Friedman to spend over $300 million this season on other players.

Ohtani’s fame can be a double-edged sword. He has a feud with Fuji TV after they flew a drone over his Los Angeles home. When the Dodgers arrived at Haneda Airport, 1,000 fans gathered, but white walls separated them from Ohtani, leaving them to settle for sharing the same air.

“It’s too bad, but it’s a security issue,” says Atsushi Ihara, an executive and former director of Nippon Professional Baseball. “If Ohtani walked out of his hotel and down the street, it would end up a police matter.”

The scene at the Tokyo Dome for the exhibition and regular-season games was controlled chaos. Four hours before the first pitch, crowds were so dense it was hard to move, but fans were content to capture Ohtani commercials on their phones. Inside the Dodgers’ clubhouse, a smoking capsule stood unused, a testament to the focus on the game.

Every pitch to Ohtani was met with anticipation, the crowd holding its breath. When he hit a homer in his second plate appearance, the stadium erupted, and fans danced in celebration. Giants manager Shinnosuke Abe even asked for a picture with Ohtani, a testament to his star power.

While there were five Japanese players in the Tokyo Series, Ohtani was the focal point. Dodgers pitcher Yoshinobu Yamamoto appeared in ads for an energy drink, but Ohtani’s presence overshadowed all. “It’s hard to imagine him being more famous than he is in America,” says Dodgers rookie reliever Jack Dreyer, “but that’s certainly the case.”

In Ohtani’s home prefecture of Iwate, his image even graces tire racks, a testament to his widespread appeal. “What he is achieving and what he’s already achieved is something out of a comic book,” Ihara says. “He’s showing us that there’s no limits for us as human beings, and that’s the inspiration that he is continuously providing for us.”

Ohtani played four games in Tokyo, two that counted and two that didn’t, but the distinction was irrelevant. He was here, in the flesh, playing baseball in Japan for the first time in eight seasons, leaving fans with memories to cherish. And then, he returned to his life as an image on a screen, both nowhere and everywhere at once.