When Ichiro retired, his records felt “small” compared to the emotional moments

For Ichiro Suzuki, it isn’t about the records, or the achievements, he says.

It’s not that the Seattle Mariners great doesn’t have them — in fact, there were many in his star-studded career: Rookie of the Year, Most Valuable Player, ten-time All-Star, owner of the single-season hits record, one of only a few dozen MLB players to log 3,000 or more hits.

But asked what from his career stands out, the ever-thoughtful Suzuki has long said it is the emotional moments that will stick with him the most.

Moments like opening day in Seattle in 2018, when fans stood to cheer for his return home to the team where his remarkable Major League career began. And like his final game in an MLB uniform, at the Tokyo Dome in Japan, where a standing ovation lasted for minutes as he walked off the field for the last time, and fans lingered for hours to express their gratitude.

“When I look at [my records] now, they don’t feel that important,” Suzuki said after the Tokyo Dome game. “After experiencing that moment today, everything else seems so small.”

Now, Suzuki is headed to the Baseball Hall of Fame in Cooperstown, a selection so obvious that only one of nearly 400 voters declined to include him on their ballot. And at a time when Japanese players have become more prominent than ever in the U.S., Suzuki will be the first Japanese-born player to appear in the Hall of Fame.

“In 2001, there was probably not one person on Earth who thought this day would come,” he said at an emotional press conference in Seattle on Tuesday. “Being able to reach this day is a feeling I can’t express in words.”

His career disproved doubts about Japanese players

When Suzuki arrived in the U.S. in 2001, he had been a star in Japan for years already. He debuted in 1992 with the Orix BlueWave, a team based in Kobe, and soon it became clear he was a powerhouse.

His rise to stardom came at a time when the national mood in Japan was at a low. The bubble economy of the 1980s had burst, and in 1995, an earthquake struck near Kobe and killed thousands.

People needed something to feel hopeful about, said Kiyoteru Tsutsui, a sociology professor at Stanford who follows Japanese baseball.

Then, soon after the earthquake, the young star led Kobe’s team to a Pacific League pennant and a Japan Series title. “It’s like Hollywood movie stuff,” Tsutsui said. “Everybody in Japan knew him, and he was the superstar in Japan’s baseball.”

That experience changed the way Suzuki viewed his role as a baseball player in the community, he said Tuesday. “At first, there were some who said, ‘This is not the time for baseball.’ We felt that too,” he said. “But we realized that, as professional baseball players, you can make things happen that ordinary people can’t.”

But his jump to the Major Leagues wasn’t seen as a sure thing. At the time, only a few Japanese players had come to the U.S., and they had all been pitchers who didn’t have to field or bat every day.

Suzuki, by contrast, was an outfielder. He would have to play every day, and his small frame — a slender 5’10” — only added to the doubts.

“There were a lot of criticisms and questions surrounding him, whether he’s too small, or he doesn’t have the stamina to withstand the rigors of a major league schedule 162 games,” Tsutsui said. “Some experts predicted that he would fail.”

Suzuki knew his performance would be used to judge other Japanese players in the future. “I remember playing with that pressure on my shoulders,” he said Tuesday.

Now, Japanese players are more prominent than ever in the MLB. The Los Angeles Dodgers pitcher-slugger Shohei Ohtani is baseball’s biggest star.

A nearly unanimous selection

Only one player had ever been selected to the Hall of Fame by a unanimous vote: Mariano Rivera, the dominating Yankees closer who helped New York win five World Series from the mid-90s through the 2000s.

Suzuki was thought to have a chance to be the second unanimous pick. But he fell one vote shy: He was named on 393 of a possible 394 ballots cast for the Hall of Fame, or 99.7%.

The Baseball Hall of Fame does not make ballots public. Some voters choose to do so, but others keep their ballots private. As of Wednesday, the voter who declined to choose Suzuki had yet to step forward.

On sports talk shows and social media, commentators, fans and players alike groaned about the voter. “Whoever is the person who did not vote for Ichiro, he or she must step forward and explain themselves. Not to be pilloried — I’d just like to hear the reasoning, because I can’t fathom a single reason,” said longtime analyst Bob Costas on MLB Network.

Voters may name up to 10 players on their ballot. Some speculated the mystery voter felt Ichiro was a lock and instead used their 10 selections strategically in order to keep other players eligible for future ballots. Or perhaps it was simply a mistake.

Throughout his career, Suzuki was never the type to be rattled or offended by much. On Tuesday, he said that it was “really good” that he had fallen short of unanimity.

“Being imperfect is good, I think,” he said. “In life, it’s because you’re imperfect that you can keep moving forward.”