The Art of Being Ichiro

By Jim Caple

ESPN.com Senior Writer

SEATTLE -- We want to think of Ichiro as an enigma.

When his face is hidden behind the smoked windows of his Infiniti G35

coupe or when his eyes are masked behind his $495 Oakley Thump

sunglasses with the MP3 player inserted in the earpieces, we want to think of

Ichiro as impenetrable (inscrutable, isn't that the old buzzword?).

When we hear how a Japanese craftsman sews his gloves by hand or how

he stores his bats in a hard-cover case with a chemical rod to

control the humidity, we want to think of Ichiro as a mystic from

the Far East. When he drops a quote on us as rarely as he does a flyball

and when he answers questions through a translator with his back turned

to reporters, we want to think of Ichiro as a Zen-like philosopher

sparingly dispensing wisdom.

We want to think of him as we do "Area 51," the nickname for the grassy

lawn he patrols in right field -- mysterious and alien.

But roll down those smoked windows and remove those sunglasses for a different

perspective. Then we see an Ichiro who speaks English (and Spanish) but reveals

little in any language because he dislikes reporters and enjoys his privacy, someone

who listens to hip-hop and rap, wears a goatee and dresses as if he's on MTV, reads

comic books, likes "Star Wars" and loves playing with his dog. And, of course,

someone who hits the hell out of a baseball.

Even Phil Jackson would tell you that's not Zen. That's American. [+]