New S-Pulse Stadium - Ready for 2026

BARRY WRITES... 

Time to crack those party poppers! News broke on Friday of plans for a new 25k+ stadium in the heart of Shimizu. Should all go according to plan, it's to cost ¥20 000 000 000 (£131,615,810, €159,448,413, US$174,210,148) will be financed by the city, prefecture, local business and donations, and be ready by 2026.

For comparison, G. Osaka's Panasonic Stadium, seating 40k and opened in 2015, cost ¥14 000 000 000. Noevir Stadium Kobe cost more at ¥23 000 000 000, seats 30k, but has a retracable roof. Kyoto's new stadium holds 21k, and cost a shade under ¥17 000 000 000. All are modern, comfortable stadia, around our budget.

Proposed site - slap bang next to Shimizu station

I've long said it: build it and they will come. We do well to get the crowds we do at our current home (which I love, Love, LOVE), but were we to have something more akin to those above, and easier to get to, our crowds would near double. It seems that time has come.

NOT OUT THE BLUE

At least so far as serious consideration goes, a new home has been a point of discussion for the last decade. When I spoke to Ghotbi in 2011, he explained then of plans to leave Nihondaira. The topic has resurfaced from time to time (see Januray 2014, when Higashi Shizuoka station was mooted), but Friday's news was the first solid indication that things are in motion.

WHY? 

If you've not yet had the pleasure, you may look at Nihondaira and wonder why we'd ever want to leave. It's beautiful! The pitch is always immaculate, and the views across Suruga Bay - wow! 

If you're new here, I've talked about this plenty, and anyone else who has been will also tell you. It's a beautiful location. Once you get there. It's a great place to watch football. When the weather's nice.  

Nihondaira is home. Always has been, always will be, but you can easily point to issues limiting the club's ambitions. To name a few biggies: poor access, no roof coverage for most the ground, a lack of sufficient hospitality facilities.

Then there's tight concourses which quickly fill when busy, and especially so when it's raining. A capacity which, while not tested too often, for big games isn't enough; an issue that extends to media capacity and the like. 

Finally, little things like cup holders on seat backs. Heck, seats in many areas don't even have backs, and some are just benches. Shizuoka may be football mad, but an afternoon at the match is still competing with a lot. Expectations for stadia have come a long way since the early 90s, and casual punters want all the above, and more. 

Despite its shortcomings, we'd not leave Nihondaira unless it was for something special. We've got reason to think Shimizu station will be just that.

WHERE?

Many of my readers will know, but if you've not yet visited Shimizu a scan over these pictures will show why the new location is too good to pass up.

Nihondaira is off the beaten track

There's a number of stadia around Japan within walking distance of a station, but by no means all. Nihondaira stretches "walking distance" to the extreme. It's possible, and we've all done it in the past, but are in no hurry to repeat the feat.

You're far better off getting a shuttle bus. But then there's the wait times, and the traffic jams after the game... 1st world problems these may be, but if there's the option to step off the train and be inside the ground in five minutes, it's a no brainer. To put it another way, you'll get off the train at Shimizu, and covered walkways (many of which already exist) will take you all the way to the ground.

View from Shimizu Station

Any discussion of a new stadium location always came with an asterisk attached. Mt Fuji is inextricably linked with the culture and identity of Shizuokans, and nowhere more so than those who follow Shimizu. The top of our badge is even modelled after Japan's famous peak.

The famous view of Mt Fuji from Nihondaira is not something S-Pulse fans want to give up lightly. Or at all, in fact. A stadium next door to Shimizu station will tick this box, and is a reason this location is so feted.

STADIUM DETAILS

Aside from an ACL specification-meeting capacity of 25k+, no concept art or details are so far public. This is where we, for now, speculate.

Will it be a dome? Will it have a retractable roof? Will it retain Nihondaira's small distance to the pitch? Will there be landscaped gardens with cherry blossom lined pathways? For this last one, most certainly.

It will look nothing like this

Until we get some official art or details, the rest is very much unknown. Given where it is, we have space for something well-planned, beautiful, which fits in with the area, the character of our club and Shimizu itself.

The one previous artist impression we've seen was for the tiny site next to Higashi Shizuoka station. Aside from the transport links, I was never fully convinced by this location. By waiting we've landed a perfect spot, with limitless potential. It's going to be exciting seeing what they choose to do. I'm confident of the care and attention which will be behind this project. Whatever emerges over the coming months and years is going to be worth the wait.

SURROUNDING AREA

With two major roads, the local Shizutetsu line, the Tōmei Expressway just over a mile away, and the interchange to the Shin-Tōmei Expressway a short distance east, even without Shimizu station next door, it's already far better served than Nihondaira.

The area around the station has undergone considerable development over recent years and, with a new ward office proposed to name one, more major work is expected. Not forgetting the shops, izakaya, karaoke and restaurants already ouside the station, or Shimizu Fish Market (GO!! The sashimi is incredible) over the road. A short ten minute walk south you also find S-Pulse Dream Plaza and Shimizu international port.

It's an area which is already doing well, but which will boom every other week should 20k+ fans descend for the footer, or for gigs, exhibitions etc. And picture the thousands of annual cruise ship visitors to Shimizu being greeted by a shiny new orange stadium bearing our name. Way to stamp our brand on their consciousness! 

The space around this brownfield site has plenty of potential for connected developments; commercial, residential or even just stadium parking for non matchday use. From an economical standpoint, it's easy to see why both the city and prefecture would back the plan.

THE VIEW FROM IWATA

I've seen Jubilo fans questioning the prefecture's involvement, but there's not much to justify here. You have to remember Ecopa was built by the prefecture, and it's Iwata who have gained far more from that venue. It's a 7 minute train ride from Iwata to Fukuroi (home of Ecopa), whereas it's over an hour from Shimizu. 

When locations for the stadium that would become Ecopa were shortlisted, Shizuoka City was a possibility. It wasn't chosen, and Iwata fans no doubt rejoiced at getting a brand new 50k stadium on their doorstep for free. Our proposed new ground is being funded only in part by the prefecture, and given what we've talked about, it's not hard to see why they would be behind it. The majority of the tab will still be picked up locally.

THE ONLY WAY TO GO 

This is the announcement I've been waiting for since, honestly, I can't remember. To leave Nihondaira would be a huge wrench. We're lucky to call it home, and should we move to a new home down by the sea, that grand old lady will remain sat up in the foothills of the moutain range from which she takes her name. It would never be forgotten, and I'm certain we would continue to used it in some capacity. 

To grow as a club, to achieve our aims on the pitch, to keep new fans coming, and to make sure they stick around when they do, a beautiful new home with all modcons is the only way to go. If we've got the chance of one right in the heart of Shimizu, we have to grab it.

Shimizu Impulse? Falling for the J. League

BARRY WRITES... 

This is a piece I wrote back in 2013 for a football website. A lot has changed since then, in the J. League, for S-Pulse, and for myself (and I'm sure for you!).  That website is no longer around, so I'm posting it here to make sure it's not lost to time.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

November 2003, and I’m propping up a bar in downtown Shizuoka city.

- “Shimizu Impulse?”

Getting my team’s name wrong. An inauspicious start to my career as a J. League fan.

- “No, mate. Shimizu S-Pulse” my fellow Brit corrected me.  

- “Fair enough, but what the hell's an S-Pulse?”

- “No idea.”

Having moved abroad, the first thing I did – like any Englishman in need of football – was seek out my new local team – just something to fill in the Saturday afternoons while I was separated from my “proper” team. What followed wasn’t part of the plan. Thoroughly seduced by the J. League’s charms, the last decade has seen a vaguely interested punter evolve into a fanatical Shimizu supporter, replete with a minor level of celebrity at their Nihondaira home as “that foreign guy”. What was meant to be one quick year in Asia has extended to over a decade, down in no small part to that irresistible team in orange: Shimizu S-Pulse*.

Yesterday and Today

Think of the J. League and, if you’re Italian or Brazilian, you may think of Jubilo Iwata, the club Toto Schillaci and Dunga helped to claim several titles in the late Nineties. With Ossie Ardiles having been in charge during one of S-Pulse’s more successful spells, the Argentines amongst you might think of my own adopted team. As an Englishman, I always recalled Gary Lineker running around in the garish red and yellow of Nagoya Grampus Eight.

When I first stepped off the plane, the J. League was still only in its 12th year, but times had changed. The above image of Japanese football, one of ageing Western stars picking up a fat pay cheque in their twilight years, was already outdated. The reality is that few, if any, teams can currently afford the inflated wage demands of ready-to-retire superstars. You’ll find them more likely to head to China’s booming Super League or Australian’s A. League. The most recent big name to try out J. was Freddie Ljungberg in 2011. Life in Japan failed to meet his expectations and he was gone within six months.

The league soon passed beyond the initial boom, with economic conditions reaching a nadir in the late Nineties. The low after the high was sufficiently severe to see one team unceremoniously merged with another (I use the term loosely because, as any fan will tell you, Yokohama Flügels was effectively dissolved). However, boosted by the 2002 World Cup, the situation recovered and stabilized, and currently the J. League operates on a solid business plan, within the present financial realities. Slow and steady expansion has seen the number of teams reach 40, and a third tier is due to kick off next year.

These days, the biggest names are the returning heroes from abroad. Shunsuke Nakamura single-handedly added hundreds to the average Yokohama F. Marinos gate, and Shinji Ono shifted merchandise to rival that of any overseas star when he moved home from Germany. The time will eventually come for Shinji Kagawa and Keisuke Honda to return, and whichever team shells out for their wages will rake in millions via merchandising appeal.

Up Nihondaira Way

Shimizu S-Pulse never had been one of the big players at bringing in foreign stars. Unlike the remaining nine of the original 10 clubs, S-Pulse was not an ex-company team turned pro. This meant lacking the clout of a multinational’s backing. Mitsubishi? Nissan? Yamaha? All spawned readymade teams for the new league, complete with multimillion yen backers. S-Pulse was established by local companies and people, never quite enjoying the same financial advantages. Rather than players, their most well-known names would come from within the managerial record. Ardiles, for example, was succeeded by former Spurs team mate Steve Perryman.

Unaware of any of this in April 2004, when I was heading up to Nihondaira Stadium for the first time, my naive images of former Serie A and Premier League names flooding the pitch were blasted out the water. But as it turned out, my first game – Shimizu S-Pulse vs Urawa Red Diamonds – was a corker. 2-0 down at half time, S-Pulse rode out 4-3 winners. The boys in orange had staged a fightback after which it would have been perverse not to fall in love with them.

Nihondaira, in common with many of Japan’s stadia, lacks adequate protection from the elements, so my next game was spent huddled under a plastic 100 yen umbrella, attempting in vain to avoid the effects of a raging typhoon. To top off that soggy evening, visitors Cerezo Osaka poked home a late winner. It mattered not. The seeds of a love affair had been planted at that seven-goal thriller.

UK Ultras?

I was instantly hooked on the huge flags and unrelenting samba, but above all it was the sense of freshness that was most captivating; a new team and a clean slate, a world away from my native Brighton’s third-tier struggles. New stadia to explore (including some which had been burnt into England’s consciousness during the Japan/South Korea World Cup), some wonderfully named opponents, and a refreshingly laid back attitude to alcohol – it proved an irresistible combination. Discovering it acceptable to bring your own drinks, I began arriving at the stadium earlier and earlier. The couple of hours before a game usually spent down the pub got transplanted inside the stand, with a six pack and a pack of cards. After all, the season largely avoids winter by running from March to December, providing no shortage of long summer evenings.

For the next few years I would drag not-especially-interested friends up Nihondaira to enjoy the sunshine, beer and football. The UK Ultras website and accompanying books and t-shirts have all come about more recently, and for that you can thank the hospitality of one young fellow named Takumi. His innocent greeting lit the fuse which ultimately led to a well controlled habit exploding into full-blown obsession. Foreign faces are not uncommon at Japan’s soccer stadia, but my repeated presence would lead locals to strike up conversation, curious to know what kept bringing me back. In 2008 it went a step further as Takumi-san insisted I join his group nearby. As luck would have it they were some of the nicest people I’ve ever met, and over the coming months we developed into a loose gang, calling ourselves the UK Ultras.

A website to document our adventures followed, but with Shimizu depressingly disinterested in global marketing, it became a window for the world into S-Pulse. With that in mind, the focus has shifted more onto publicizing the team worldwide. Now into our sixth year, the UKU fly the flag all over the country, trying to have some laughs while we’re at it. Not always easy when in those six seasons we’ve seen zero silverware and witnessed four cup semi final and three cup final defeats.

The idea of our own ultras troop was always tongue in cheek, but soon developed a serious edge. We’ve covered thousands of miles and spent countless games together, endured numerous no-score draws, occasional on-field heroics and enjoyed some unforgettable away days.  Having been absorbed into a group of regular fans, I’ve been permitted to experience the J. League from the inside. The experience has ensured my affiliation for S-Pulse strengthened beyond anything that went before. 10 years ago I wouldn’t have believed that my support for Brighton could face competition, but fortunately, barring an unlikely Club World Cup meeting, I’ll never have to choose between the two.

It may be the dynamic nature of football in Japan – new teams joining the league, extra divisions being added, the continued strides made by national team – but 10 years have passed in a heartbeat.  The longer I stay, and the more I travel the country with my horde, the stronger my affinity to my club and home city becomes. Trekking eight hundred miles to Sapporo to stand and shout for Shimizu is these days as much about representing my home town as it is supporting the team. It’s become much the same as following my team around England. The same, but different.

The J. League is worlds apart from football in England. The fans are different. Very different.  Yes, they do spend the whole 90 minutes singing, not even pausing for breath when they concede a goal. Yes, there is a lot of arm-waving and scarf-twirling, and yes there is a far greater mix of women and children in the crowd. Banter between home and away ends may be largely lacking – anathema to most European fans – but with three points for a win and one for a draw, ultimately how different can football really be?

Since the league began, a lot has happened. What was once an ageing stars’ retirement home now couldn’t be further from it. This is a fascinating league, with good and improving native players. The limits placed on non-Japanese playing staff are unlike anything that could exist within the EU, but they guarantee the protection and development of local talent. Japan reaching the last 16 in South Africa was anything but luck, and the complaints about a lack of competitiveness leveled at some top leagues cannot be directed at J1; in the last 10 years, seven different teams have claimed the title.

Should I Stay or Should I Go?

When I first learnt of Shimizu, I’d have been incredulous at the idea of growing so wrapped up in their fortunes. It’s been a pleasure, but becoming involved to this degree brings with it an accompanying dilemma.  As time passes and the pull of my homeland grows stronger, at some point I will be forced to make a decision. Do I one day leave the team behind, deserting my brothers in orange, or do I elect to never regularly watch my old team again? This may well be the cause of sleepless nights to come.

As tough a quandary as it is, the UK Ultras are not about to fold up their flag any time soon. For starters there is the second half of 2013 to worry about. Right now we’re focused on enjoying the home games, covering as many away miles as possible and maybe, just maybe, someday seeing Shimizu claim their first J. League title. Recent finishes of ninth and 10th may not suggest it is coming soon, but an undeniable charm point of J1 is its unpredictability. Recent champions Nagoya, Kashiwa and Hiroshima can all be said to have emerged from relative obscurity to claim the title.

Early in my first season following Shimizu, I brazenly swore to stay in the country until I saw them lift the championship trophy. I may yet be here a while. But joking aside, S-Pulse have moved far beyond the point of novelty, and my life as a supporter in Shimizu has largely become football as usual, just in Japan. It’s an ongoing journey, and long may it continue.

*In case you’re wondering, S-Pulse is a combination of the ‘S’ from Soccer, Supporter and Shimizu, and the ‘Pulse’ of the city, beating to the samba rhythm of exciting football. Simple.