The following has been sat in draft form for over a decade. Think it's safe to say I'll never get around to finishing it.
It's a sprawling think piece from 2008, and clearly a product of its time. Things have changed since then. My knowledge may have been lacking, some thoughts may have missed the greater context, info may now be outdated, and it might just be a load of waffle. One thing I know now is that a roof on Nihondaira's Kop will never happen, and plans are for a new stadium rather than redevelopment of the IAI.
Well, rather than let it gather dust for eternity, here it is. To be fair, it's mostly complete, save for the conclusion, which is still just a few notes. It serves as something of a time capsule, if nothing else!
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BARRY WRITES...
Despite celebrating it's 17th birthday this year, professional football in Japan is still very much in it's infancy, and nowhere is this more evident than in wildly fluctuating supporter numbers. Unlike leagues with longer histories, J. League teams don't yet have to the same degree the established fan bases who follow teams through thick, thin, rain and sunshine. Consider for example Kawasaki Verdy whose decline in fortunes between 1994 and 2006 was accompanied by an 80% drop in average gates. Indeed, the club eventually moved cities in an attempt to increase it's fan base. Or Urawa Red Diamonds, whose gates have doubled since their recent rise to prominence.
Supporters in Japan are among the most enthusiastic in the world, but at the same time they can also be incredibly fickle. In many countries, football allegiances are passed down through families in a manner some may liken to hereditary disease - you're born into your team and you're stuck with it till death. Stopping going to games would be like renouncing a faith. This is why England is able to support 92 fully professional teams, and this is also why it is so important that J. Leagues teams do everything possible to get people through the turnstiles and get them hooked.
The J. League is well aware of this, indeed it's written into the very constitution of the league that teams are not only from, but are also part of their home town. The ongoing 11 million campaign is aimed at increasing crowd figures, and is part of the 100 Year Plan which works at grass roots level to develop the game in Japan.
Shimizu S-Pulse are good example of a community involved team, and are very much a part of Shizuoka. Anyone who visits the city would have trouble not noticing this, but there's one issue which has been weighing more and more on my mind over recent seasons, and that's our home ground; the beautiful Nihondaira Stadium.
The Trouble With 'Daira
Since my very first game at Nihondaira I have counted myself lucky that we have a such fantastic home. No small part of it's charm lies in the fact it's far more akin to a good old-fashioned British-style ground than to the many modern multi-purpose grounds which proliferate the J. League. It's not the biggest, and it's certainly not the most hi-tech, but it's overflowing with character and individuality, and when full to bursting, there are few grounds in the country that can match it. Anyone who has watched an S-Pulse victory against the backdrop of Mt. Fuji would have no problem in recognising Nihondaira's good points, but behind the unquestionable quality of 'Daira lie some issues which conspire to hold the club back.
Location
The first thing anyone notices. The gorgeous panoramic views afforded across Suruga Bay come from the ground being set up in the foothills of the Nihondaira mountain range, but the scenery comes at a price. Ten minutes walk from the nearest main road, and over four kilometres from the nearest station, access to the ground can be something of a convoluted affair. For away fans, a journey to 'Daira can require a bullet train to Shizuoka, transfer to a local line train to Shimizu, and from Shimizu Station a twenty minute bus ride to the ground. After the game, queues for the buses and jammed roads can mean it taking anything up to to 90 minutes from the stadium to Shimizu station - over an hour travel before you can even start your journey home!
It's important not to underestimate the effect an extra twenty minute bus ride can have on the overall journey when you consider waiting and transfer time. Above and beyond visiting supporters, many casual fans in and around Shizuoka may be put off by the time it takes to get to a game, especially when it's raining! A scan through J1 teams' home grounds shows the vast majority all within walking distance of a station. One notable exception are neighbours Jubilo Iwata, who also play at a stadium heavily reliant on bus transport. That said, Jubilo have the advantage of Ecopa Stadium being situated a mere 9 minutes east of Iwata, (less time than it takes from Shizuoka to Shimizu!) and which is served by Aino Station.
Rooflessness
For a country with such a healthy annual rain fall, a number of grounds fall short when it comes to protecting their spectators from the elements. These bright orange plastic rain coats are a popular item at Nihondaira, although not for their fashion appeal. Unsurprisingly not available at Shizuoka 109, the club shops at the ground nevertheless do a roaring trade when the heavens open. However, for all the money they bring in, I'd wager that the amount lost on ticket sales due the rain would eclipse it ten fold.
For a majority of fans, rain will never put them off. For others, it can be reason enough to stay home. Three examples come to mind: Gamba Osaka in 2007 (league), Jubilo in 2008 (cup) and Kashiwa in 2009 (league). Being the geek I'm prone to be, having followed ticket sales prior to match day, on each occasion the eventual attendance against the number of tickets sold fell way short. The Kashiwa attendance was a staggering 4000+ down on tickets sold.
The prospect of a soaking puts people off in their droves, and apart from the vast swathes of empty seats which don't do the atmosphere any favours, there are also less tangible knock on effects. The Gamba and Jubilo games were both cracking affairs that resulted in excellent home victories. Out of the thousands who ended up not coming, how many were wavering fans? How many were first timers who have never bought a ticket since? In short, how many potential new fans were lost?
So what can be done when the heavens open? Are we destined to forever be a slave to the elements? Time for some pie-in-the-sky speculation on what could be done to make sure people come, rain or shine!
A New Home?
Back when Shizuoka was chosen as one of the 2002 World Cup venues, where to build the prefecture's new stadium was an issue of intense debate. Among the sites mooted was east Shizuoka City.
A stunning, hi-tech football ground slap bang in the middle of Shizuoka City is a mouthwatering prospect. Higashi-Shizuoka Station had just opened, and with the wealth of other sporting facilities in the area, it could have been an ideal chance for S-Pulse to cement their position in very centre of Shizuoka City's conciousness. It would have also eliminated at a stroke the journey time from down town Shizuoka to the stadium. Alas, the time came and went. Fukuroi, over an hour from Shimizu, was chosen as the home for Ecopa, and east Shizuoka has since rapidly filled up with other development.
In the same area is Kusanagi Athletics Ground, which is no stranger to hosting J. league games. Many early fixtures were played there, and as recently as 2003 the stadium has been S-Pulse's second home. Perhaps the venue was once considered for redevelopment as a potential new home, but with the considerable investment that has gone into Nihondaira over the last five years, it's obvious that the club are not planning a move there any time soon.
Talk of a new stadium is doubtlessly wishful thinking. With Ecopa available, it would be near on impossible to justify, not to mention that finding space enough in Shizuoka would be a mammoth task. Unless a vast section of the port next to Shimizu Station was to suddenly become available, there is nowhere else in Shizuoka that wouldn't suffer from the same access problems as Nihondaira. Any proposed move away from Nihondaira to anything other than a perfectly sited new stadium would likely be met with fierce opposition from the orange army.
A Roof?
So while it's certainly no tragedy to be based at Nihondaira for the foreseeable future, what can be done to increase people at the games? It's not uncommon for me to meet Shizuokans who tell me they support S-Pulse, but when questioned have not been to game for months, if at all. During the early J. League boom we averaged nearly 20000, so how can we recapture those casual supporters and get them coming back week after week?
S-Pulse work wonders when it comes to publicising the club and aiding the development of football in Shizuoka. The local school children who can watch games for free, the various S-Pulse themed events around the city, the entire street in Shimizu which acts as a living football exhibition, and the huge S-Pulse entertainment complex adjacent to it - I can't imagine a football club which could work any harder to connect with the people of it's town. All this is hugely commendable, but there's one thing I want to throw into the mix - a roof for Nihondaira!
When it rains, the second tier often empties out as people rush for the only places that afford cover. As we've seen, rainy skies keeps thousands of fans away, and who can really blame them? Sitting in the rain for two hours is very few people's idea of fun, and having watched more than one game in typhoon-like lashing rain, I can well understand how anyone other than the real die hards would pass it up.
It's a fact that the back stand's roof cannot be extended, and while I'm no architectural expert, any roof on the main stand would likely obstruct views to the Astro Vision screen. The two end stands, however, could certainly benefit from cover. Not only would people be guaranteed protection, but the huge noise generated week in week out by the supporters would no longer dissipate into the Shizuoka sky. The already great atmosphere would increase immeasurably.
It was forty years ago John and Yoko sang out in the hope of peace and love. Now, getting on for half a century later later, their words still ring as true as ever. In one small corner of Yoko's homeland, the song's melody is being put to good use in the drive for something perhaps even more pressing than that of world peace: the campaign for a roof on The Kop at Nihondaira.
NOTES
A direct result of the club's efforts, average crowds are increasing and are up three thousand since 2005,
In Conclusion
Some teams go on tour voluntarily, or in the Emperor's Cup which ain't so voluntariliy.
A big plus in J. League is that we've not yet reached the stage where two or three huge teams eclipse all others. Big crowds don't equal success. But they might one day - don't get left behind!
- what's the future for Nihondaira? I hear we're already maxed out on capacity, and with the transport infrastructure stretched to breaking point when the stadium is anywhere near full, I can well believe it.
Just as they showed up for our recent 1-1 draw with Kashiwa, S-Pa's current hardcore of 9000 die hards will be there in typhoons, hail, blistering sunshine, or a persistent driving rain which starts six hours before kick off and ends fours hours after.
Shizuoka is the football kingdom?
The two problems with Nihondaira are the lack of cover and the location. lack of access
Big crowd in J. League doesn't equal success as per Kashima.
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