Effortless Grace: A Hero in Two Hemispheres
Charles Beers (Huntington High School)
There are a few moments in a baseball game that can’t be described as anything less than perfect: the
crack of the bat to hit that game-winning home run in the bottom of the ninth; the last-minute dive by a
runner to safely avoid the tag of a catcher at home plate. But perhaps the greatest and rarest of all of these is
robbing a batter of a homerun. Players have made their fortunes scaling outfield walls and taking long fly
balls away from the outfield bleachers with spectacular grace. If there was ever a player that had mastered
this sacred art of fielding, it was Ichiro.

Ichiro Suzuki was a name I frequently heard throughout my Little League career. As I sat in my
dugout eagerly anticipating my next at-bat, I occasionally got pieces of advice from my coach. “Hit it like
Ichiro.” Ichiro has never been known for his power. His speed, however, made any connection between ball
and bat a threat to the opposing team. A routine ground-ball to the pitcher’s mound could turn into a single
in the blink of an eye. No matter how bleak the outlook seemed, Ichiro had determination I had never seen
before and will likely never see again. His probable Hall of Fame career has featured some incredible
statistics: 10 dominant years with 200 or more hits which was deemed impossible by baseball experts
around the globe (www.baseball-reference.com) and 2001 Most Valuable Player award in his first year in
the Major Leagues. Every time I struck out in Little League, I always remembered how Ichiro would
always bounce back. With his perseverance in mind, I never gave up.

It was impossible to describe my excitement in 2012, when the front page of the newspaper
announced that Ichiro was becoming a Yankee. To me, it was a match made in heaven: one of my favorite
players on my favorite team. Ichiro was much more than simple statistics and awards. He served as a
symbol of perseverance and hope to both the United States and his home country of Japan. In 2011, Suzuki
donated 100 million yen to the Japanese Red Cross in order to aid earthquake relief efforts, motivating the
Mariners to donate profits from the first six home games (sports.espn.go.com). Additionally, when Ichiro
was traded to the Yankees, he signed his equipment and donated the proceeds to 26 different charities
across New York (kenthimmel.blogspot.com). I realized then that one of baseball’s greatest players was
also one of the world’s greatest international heroes.

Ichiro settled in well with the Yankees in 2012, leading the team to the postseason with his stellar
performance at the plate. However, my story with Ichiro didn’t end there. During the summer of 2013, I
was offered a chance to interview relief pitcher David Robertson for Newsday and explore Yankee Stadium
as a reporter. Words cannot describe my energy as I sprinted to the ballpark, took my stadium pass to the
stadium, and followed my guide through the maze of hallways that held endless secrets.

After hours of exploration, it was finally time to step onto the field. The entire team was out for
batting practice. Up at bat was none other than Ichiro himself, looking as confident as ever as he scattered
hits all over the ballpark.

I watched with bated breath as he walked back towards the dugout where I was sitting and looked me
in the eye with a smile on his face. He didn’t speak English well and he had never seen me before, but the
way he shook my hand and welcomed me into this unfamiliar place said enough. That same day, Ichiro hit
a monstrous home run that helped the Yankees win the game, and is a moment in my life I will never forget.

Ichiro’s kindness and compassion are inspiring. He is a symbol of Japan in more ways than one. He is
tranquil and patient at the plate, using precision and grace in every at-bat. His generosity has transcended
his native country and he has become the embodiment of international charity. Most of all, Ichiro is the
embodiment of perseverance, never giving up on or off the field. For this reason, Ichiro is an inspiration
and I try to emulate his effortless grace. When assignments seem insurmountable, when exams keep piling
up, and when I feel like caving in to the pressure, I think of #31 dashing to make the seemingly impossible
catch, and keep my eye on the ball.

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