Why Japan’s baseball legends stay in the game after retirement — and Korea’s don’t

Former Seattle Mariners right fielder Ichiro Suzuki throws the ceremonial first pitch to former Mariners pitcher Randy Johnson before a baseball game between the Mariners and the Tampa Bay Rays in Seattle, Washington, on Aug. 10, 2025. [AP/YONHAP]

 

Japanese baseball legends continue to mentor younger players long after retirement, but in Korea, many stars leave the field for media and entertainment roles, a shift experts say is weakening the pipeline for future players. 

 

Ichiro Suzuki, regarded as one of the Japanese greatest hitters, continues to mentor younger players even after retirement.

 


 

The 52-year-old currently operates Kobe Chiben, an amateur team made up of acquaintances including former trainers and interpreters. 

 

Suzuki serves as both owner and manager. The team takes its name from Chiben Wakayama High School’s baseball team. Suzuki also brought Kobe Chiben to the school in 2019 to play an exhibition game.

 

Since 2021, he has faced selected Japanese high school girls’ teams annually at Tokyo Dome alongside former MLB players Hideki Matsui and Daisuke Matsuzaka to help broaden the base of women’s baseball, which receives relatively little attention. 

 

Suzuki also frequently visits high school teams, where he demonstrates batting techniques and offers advice on both skills and mindset, contributing to a culture that has helped produce Japanese MLB stars such as Shohei Ohtani and Yoshinobu Yamamoto of the Los Angeles Dodgers.

 

This kind of mentorship extends beyond Suzuki to other Japanese baseball greats.

 

Ahead of the 2026 World Baseball Classic, fellow Japanese legend Hideo Nomo visited training sites with Yu Darvish of the San Diego Padres and others to encourage younger players.

 

Los Angeles Dodgers former player Hideo Nomo throws the ceremonial first pitch before Game 3 of the 2025 MLB World Series against the Toronto Blue Jays at Dodger Stadium in Los Angeles on Oct. 27, 2025. [REUTERS/YONHAP]

 

The mentorship reflects a culture known in Japanese as “
tsunagu,” meaning to connect across generations by passing on skills and values.

 

In Korea, however, many retired players shift toward careers as commentators, entertainers or YouTubers rather than remaining in coaching roles. 

 

In the past, players typically moved into coaching positions soon after retirement, but that pattern has weakened. Entry-level salaries for professional baseball coaches range from 50 to 60 million won ($33,600 to $40,400). 

 

“It is not easy for star players who once earned hundreds of millions of won to take on difficult work for relatively low pay,” said Yoo Sang-keon, a professor of sports ICT convergence at Sangmyung University. “Appearing on entertainment programs or running YouTube channels is not inherently bad. It lowers barriers to sports and broadens public engagement. The problem arises when that becomes everything.

 

“If they have affection for the sport they dedicated their lives to, pride in what they achieved through hard work and a sense of responsibility to younger players, they cannot remain only in front of the camera.” 

 

When legends who should inspire younger athletes leave the sports ecosystem, the link to the next generation weakens and shapes how younger athletes approach their careers. 

 

Japan’s Shohei Ohtani smiles during the third inning of a World Baseball Classic quarterfinal against Venezuela in Miami, Florida on March 14. [AP/YONHAP]

 

“In the past, middle and high school athletes pushed themselves relentlessly to achieve their dreams, but now many focus on how to secure a stable life by joining a business or professional team,” said Yoon Young-gil, a professor of sports psychology at Korea National Sport University. 

 

High training costs add to the problem. 

 

“There is criticism that players have become less willing to take risks as prize money on the KLPGA Tour has increased, but many carry too much debt to take risks,” the father of a golfer said. “The cost of training at a young age is extremely high.”

 

Korean athletes often compete under pressure, knowing that failure could also affect the families who supported them. Japanese players, by contrast, often say they “had fun” after games, showing they are less afraid of results and more willing to take risks. 

 

“Young people in Korea compete for rewards such as grades, college admission, salaries and gold medals, while Japan places value on a wider range of experiences in sport,” said Kim Jong-hyo, a professor at Graduate School of Convergence Science and Technology of the Seoul National University. “In Japanese, the phrase ‘
isshokkenmei’ refers to giving one’s all as if one’s life depends on it. That reflects how they approach sports.”

 

Korean star athletes once inspired younger generations to dream big, giving rise to terms such as the “Park Chan-ho kids,” named after the country’s first MLB player, the “World Cup kids,” who grew up watching Korea’s semifinal run at 2002 FIFA World Cup and the “Pak Se-ri kids,” inspired by the golfer’s success on the LPGA Tour.

 

Now, fewer stars carry that legacy forward, with fewer young athletes dreaming big and the disconnect between generations widening.

This article was originally written in Korean and translated by a bilingual reporter with the help of generative AI tools. It was then edited by a native English-speaking editor. All AI-assisted translations are reviewed and refined by our newsroom.

BY KIM HYO-KYOUNG, SONG JI-HOON [[email protected]]