Source: "The Japan Times" October 2 or 3, 1999
Text: KUMI KINOHARA ("The Japan Times" staff writer)
Part 2
Since Kazu joined, Kyoto has averaged more than 11,000 fans at its home games and seen a boost in the sale of merchandise. About 400-500 fans attend the team's training sessions every day, while some fans attend games in old Japan team shirts with Kazu's name and his old No.11 on the back. Young and old fans alike seem pleased to have a hero in their midst.
But the veteran forward now has criticisms of his own. Having played in Brazil and Europe, he admits that the J. League has become somewhat colorless.
"A little while ago, Verdy had some really talented players and paid them accordingly, giving the club a high profile, which was matched by its archrival the Yokohama Marinos. But now there's no really big clubs," he noted. "Teams in the league look more or less the same in terms of the way they play - there's no color and nothing special. That's why fewer people come to the games. We have no yokozuna or ozeki in the league.
"Clubs in Britain and Brazil have a very clear idea of what they are. Japanese clubs should talk more about what kind of club and identity they want, and they should consider talking to the players, too," Kazu pointed out.
"On the positive side, the environment in the J. League has improved in such areas as training facilities. I'm proud that we, my generation, helped to create this positive environment.
"I'm less happy that it has made the younger players spoiled."
Kazu has had to live with his share of disappointments, none more so than missing out on the World Cup. His exclusion came as a surprise to the Japanese soccer world. How does he look back on those dark days?
"When you are told, you actually don't feel it so much. I just thought 'Ah, it's over,'" he said. "But I felt it more and more later on.
"When I went to Zagreb, they had six World Cup players and they asked me why I wasn't there in France. When I watched video tapes (of the World Cup), I feel it even more. . . I think that's where I was supposed to be.
"Because I'd worked so hard for it, I can't help asking myself what all my efforts were for. I sometimes forced myself to play for the team even when I was injured. I'm not blaming anybody, but because I had struggled so hard to make it, I feel sad that things ended the way they did. That feeling gets stronger as time goes by.
"But that experience also helps keep me going. Now, I really want to prove to people that I'm not dead yet."
Kazu is now 32 and seems to be more aware of his age and recognize the necessity of changing his play accordingly. He tries to run effectively without wasting energy and thinks of ways of getting past his opponents.
"Your body speaks," Kazu said. "I've started accepting it, probably since I went to Croatia, and I now train more carefully.
"If you tried to go back to 25, you'll fail. That applies to singers, artists and anybody. If you are a 50-year-old painter, you can't draw like you did when you were 20. Some may say they prefer what you did before, but you can't - and actually shouldn't - go back.
"Some people say I had my peak at 25 in 1992-93. But I believe I'm at my best now with my game and my thoughts on things," Kazu added. "I'm thinking how I can entertain our fans and try to be involved in scoring."
Kazu's contract with Kyoto will expire at the end of the Emperor's Cup. He will consider all offers domestically and internationally, but he doesn't want to compromise his soccer, he said.
"I'd like to do what I believe with soccer. I'll go wherever I'm needed and show my game to make people happy. And if some people can sympathize with my soccer, that'll be good enough for me."
End
|
|
