The crowd of 55,000 expected history on August 30 1978 at Korakuen Stadium in the heart of Tokyo. Sadaharu Oh, the famed slugger of the hometown Yomiuri Giants, entered play against the Yokohama Taiyo Whales on 799 career home runs. No player in the history of professional baseball had ever hit that many, but the landmark of 800 loomed large.

In his first trip to the plate, Oh singled, before drawing a walk in his next appearance. The bustling mass of spectators, five thousand over the stadium’s recommended capacity, grew ever so slightly impatient, but roared shrill encouragement when Oh ventured to the dish to begin the home half of the sixth inning.

Reliever Hiroshi Okawa came in to face Oh, still a lethal hitter at the age of 38. As verbal encouragement cascaded through the stadium, Okawa delivered his first pitch. Oh lifted his leg and unfurled that lyrical, legendary swing, connecting sweetly with the baseball and propelling it deep to right field, where, amid a maelstrom of excitement, it came to rest in the shoe of Hiromori Miyayashi, a 34-year old fan who had removed his footwear for comfort.

With the 34th home run of his 19th season, Sadaharu Oh had once again made history. His 800th career blast came in his 2,562nd game, and his 8,330th at-bat. Of all the men ever to play baseball professionally, regardless of geography, he was the founding father of the 800 Home Run Club. Thirty-seven years later, he’s still waiting to greet the next member, who simply may never arrive.

On that landmark day for Asian sport, Oh was showered with gifts and platitudes, ranging from a bouquet of flowers to a congratulatory message from Prime Minister Takeo Fukuda, who thanked him for bringing joy to the Japanese people. It was a moment of great jubilation; a paroxysm of relief for a hero whose life had been characterized by pressure. It was also a rare moment of unhindered adulation for Oh, who, despite immortal talent, was the victim of prejudice throughout his career.

Born Wang Chen-Chih to a Chinese father and Japanese mother, Oh was officially considered Chinese, but he was registered with a Taiwanese passport due to his parents’ worries about China’s post-civil war unrest in the early 1940s. Oh grew up with the Japanese language and values, but, when fame came his way, some hardliners used his heritage as a means of abuse.

As Japanese baseball expert James Allen explains: “Oh is revered in Japan for being a stoic hero and the ultimate team player, but he was less popular than his flashy teammate, third baseman Shigeo Nagashima.

“While Nagashima was perhaps better loved for his showmanship and flamboyance, Oh was all business, and is perhaps the more highly respected of the two.”

Together, they brought unprecedented success to the Giants, Japan’s oldest and most popular team. Like the New York Yankees, the Giants enjoy a large fanbase far beyond their Tokyo base; a record 36 pennants and 22 Japan Series titles giving the team a certain mystique.

In a similar vein to Babe Ruth and Lou Gehrig in the Bronx, Sadaharu Oh and Shigeo Nagashima helped catalyze the Giants’ dynasty with trailblazing talent. While Nagashima was more popular, Oh was undoubtedly the most talented player in Japanese baseball history, hitting .301/.446/.634 through a 22-year career, with 2,786 hits, 2,170 RBI, 868 home runs and nine Central League MVP Awards, as Yomiuri won 11 Japan Series titles in his tenure, including nine straight between 1965 and 1973.

As a child, Oh could barely have dreamed of such success. His father, Shifuku, openly warned his sons about playing baseball, arguing that games were a distraction from careers in medicine or engineering. Nonetheless, those pursuits seemed mundane to the energetic little boy, who continued to play ball at local sandlots alongside his older brother, Tetsushiro, who had a deep knowledge of the game. When occasionally charged with taking care of his sibling as their parents worked in the family noodle restaurant, Tetsushiro would organize trips to Korakuen Stadium to watch the famous Giants, thus planting the seed of baseball addiction in Sadaharu, who started out as a pitcher at Waseda Commercial High School.

Oh quickly became a star, and his four complete games at the historic 1957 Koshien tournament still echo in the annals of history. He pitched so well as to be offered a contact by his beloved Giants in 1959, by which point his father had mellowed considerably to the notion of his son playing ball for a living. Oh received a $60,000 signing bonus and entered the harsh world of professional sports.

Oh bats against the Los Angeles Dodgers during exhibition game circa 1970 at Dodger Town in Vero Beach, Florida. Photograph: Focus On Sport/Getty Images

However, it soon became apparent that he could not pitch at the elite level. His breaking ball wouldn’t bite, and the more experienced hitters took advantage. Yet, rather than simply release Oh, the Giants gave credence to his obvious natural ability, and instead offered him a shot at transitioning to the field. After all, he’d always been a decent hitter.



Initially, Oh struggled, and the fans mocked his flailing offensive attempts by chanting “Oh! Oh! Strikeout king!” Facing failure for the first time in his life, Sadaharu took to partying for relief. His was suddenly a world of confusion.

Then, Oh met hitting coach Hiroshi Arakawa, who refocused his attention and invested heavily in helping Sadaharu reach his gargantuan potential. With Arakawa’s help, Oh dedicated innumerable hours to the study, creation and refinement of a new style of hitting; an iconoclastic method drawing techniques from traditional zen philosophy, which places emphasis on meditation to arrive at a more positive worldview. Moreover, parts of Oh’s swing were modeled on aikido, a form of self-defense in martial arts which relies on redirecting the momentum of an opponent’s attack. Sadaharu adopted this in baseball, where he would combat a pitcher’s arsenal with stunning precision.

Arakawa also suggested Oh implement a timing mechanism in his swing, to help concentrate the mind during at-bats. Thus, Oh developed his trademark ‘flamingo’ leg kick, during which he would suspend his right leg in the air as he awaited a pitch. This discipline, honed through hours of painstaking rehearsal, allowed Oh to stay back in the batter’s box and then explode through the baseball with astonishing lyricism.

Over the next 15 years, he did that more than any player in history. His home run total rose from seven as a rookie to 17 as a sophomore, before Oh broke out with 38 homers in 1962. He topped that mark with 40 a year later, before slamming a record-breaking 55 in 1964, his first MVP season. And, just like that, a superstar was born.

Oh averaged 43 home runs per year between 1962 and 1974, toppling the 500 mark and becoming the first Japanese player ever to reach the 600 plateau. After befriending Hank Aaron, America’s home run king, the duo engaged in a home run hitting contest in 1974, which fueled Oh’s desire to beat the world records set by his Major League counterparts.



In July 1976, he walloped number 700, before passing the great Babe Ruth with number 715 three months later. Then, in September 1977, five weeks after surpassing Ruth’s world record for career walks, Oh hit his 756th home run, surpassing Aaron for the most in professional baseball history. The hallowed milestone of 800 became a natural target, but, upon passing it, Oh was a little underwhelmed. His true victory came in beating Aaron, and everything thereafter left him numb.

Oh’s single season record for most home runs in Japan was topped by Wladimir Balentien in 2013, but his career mark is still the all-time standard of greatness. And, as Jim Allen suggests, that record is “unlikely to be surpassed, because any player that good would likely move to the US Major Leagues before he could hit that many in Nippon Professional Baseball.”

Thus, barring an incredible run by Mike Trout or a historic surge from Miguel Cabrera, Oh’s world record for most home runs in a professional baseball career is likely to remain intact for at least one more generation, if not forever. It’s lasted this long, surviving the advent of sports science and anabolic steroids, so there’s no reason to believe it can’t remain the ultimate mark of long ball efficiency well into the future.

But ultimately, Sadaharu Oh’s place in the hearts of a nation and the history of a game is, after years of strife and turmoil, already secured. Regardless of what transpires, he will always be the first player to hit 800 home runs, and the first player to topple Hank Aaron, regardless of nationality.

Yes, he played in Japan, not America. And yes, he faced pitchers of inferior quality and fields of smaller dimension, but Oh also overcame racial prejudice, niggling criticism and searing scrutiny to establish a hallowed record and become the most mystical sporting hero in Japanese history. And for that, he deserves unending respect and boundless admiration.S