A baseball dream born in Brazil
The pitcher sat at a table adjacent to his locker, deep in thought and ready to deal. In one hand, he clutched a deck of cards, waiting for his teammates to join him in the next game. In the other hand, he held a half-eaten Yoplait yogurt -- a healthy pregame snack. He looked comfortable and prepared. He was in his element. Not knowing any better, you'd assume that Matumoto was a seasoned veteran, someone who'd been at this game a long time.
And you'd be right, sort of.
Matumoto, a member of the Double-A Fisher Cats, the Toronto Blue Jays' Double-A affiliate, is 36 years old. He started playing baseball when he was 9 years old in 1979, before the majority of his teammates were born. He has been playing so long that the game is almost second nature to him.
But Matumoto is also a rookie. This is Matumoto's first year playing baseball in the United States. So, even though Matumoto has played in professional leagues around the globe since he was a teenager, being a member of the Fisher Cats is, literally, a whole new ballgame.
It's hard enough to play baseball. It's even harder to do it when you're older. And it becomes more difficult when you are dealing with the challenges of a new league with unfamiliar hitters, playing in a foreign country for the first time, and learning a new culture with a different language.
None of this, however, seems to bother Matumoto. He takes all the obstacles he is currently facing with a grain of salt, happy to be playing baseball with the best of the best.
"A lot of people think that I am [too] old to come and play in the United States," said Matumoto. "But I feel good. I feel young. I want to play baseball with the best competition."
Matumoto is used to this sort of thing. He has faced numerous challenges in his long baseball career. He was born in San Paulo, Brazil, to parents of Japanese descent. The largest Latin American country isn't exactly known for its baseball.
"In Brazil, only the Japanese start to play baseball," said Matumoto. "We only have 5,000 baseball players total. Here [in the United States], you have the infrastructure to play the game. There is no comparison in Brazil."
Matumoto learned the game from his father, who loved baseball. Matumoto's dad played when he could and watched Major League games when he was lucky enough to pick up a broadcast from the United States. Naturally, Matumoto's father wanted to pass on the game to his son. So, the father introduced the game to his son when he was nine.
"I started to play because my father loved baseball," said Matumoto with a prideful grin.
Matumoto caught on quickly. Not only did he embrace the game as his father did, but Matumoto had real talent. He could really throw the ball, and dad picked up on it right away. He began grooming his son's skill. He made Matumoto practice every day and train hard. He even enrolled his son in a baseball camp run by Cuban immigrants. They could teach Matumoto things about the game his father couldn't, like how to throw a curve and a screwball.
But, as so often happens and as dads are all too familiar with, a father's love can go too far, and it almost did with Matumoto. Matumoto's father pushed Jo so hard, that his son began to dislike the game. Instead of baseball being fun, it had become work. For Matumoto, baseball was a chore.
"I didn't like baseball when I was a teenager because my father forced me to play," chuckled Matumoto. "At that time, I didn't realize how lucky I was."
After playing baseball only because his father insisted, Matumoto began to appreciate his talent and ability at age 17. Playing baseball was a lot better than most things he could be doing. So he honed his talent, pushing himself to take his game to the next level. One day, he thought he might just make it to the Major Leagues.
Matumoto began his professional career pitching in Brazil, hoping and praying a scout or somebody might see him. The problem, though, was that Brazil received very little coverage from Major League teams.
So in 1995, Matumoto looked elsewhere and caught a break. He was offered a contract to play in the Japanese Industrial League for, ironically, the Nippon Blue Jays -- a team founded by fellow Brazilian Jose Pett, a member of Toronto's farm system in the late 1990s.
Matumoto worked tirelessly trying to earn a promotion to the Japanese professional leagues where Major League teams often scouted for talent. When he did get an offer, the manager of the Blue Jays refused to release the left-hander. He did not want to lose Matumoto's talent.
"It works differently in Japan," explained Maria Fernanda De Luca, Matumoto's wife. "They asked the coaches, and his coach said, 'No.'"
Looking for another way to the top of the baseball ladder, Matumoto left Japan in 2001. He returned home to South America, back where it all started, pitching for the Brazilian national team. But then the worst-case scenario, the one thing all pitchers hope to avoid, happened. In 2003, Matumoto injured his arm, and would need "Tommy John" surgery. Matumoto was out of baseball for nearly two years.
"I didn't know if I was going to be able to play again," said Matumoto.
But, as he has done throughout his professional career, Matumoto persevered and kept pursuing his Major League dream. In 2005, he came back with a vengeance for the Brazilian national team, mowing down any and all opponents. He earned MVP honors at the South American championships for his stellar performance.
It still wasn't enough. Even though he was terrorizing hitters throughout Latin America, Matumoto still found it difficult to attract the attention of Major League scouts. At age 34, with almost no hope left, he even considered giving up on baseball.
"He was a little tired of not being seen," De Luca said. "That's how crazy he thought the dream was. He thought about, 'I don't want this anymore. I'm going to quit.'"
De Luca stepped in, and told Matumoto to follow his dream.
"My wife wanted me to continue to play," Matumoto recalled.
So, still chasing his lifelong ambition of playing in the Major Leagues, Matumoto and De Luca took matters into their own hands. They did some research on the internet, trying to find a team, a scout or an agent that might be interested in finding a home in a professional league for Matumoto. The two sent out numerous emails, explaining Matumoto's situation with the hope that they might get one lead.
For the first time in 10 years, Matumoto got a break.
Randy Hendricks, who also represents Roger Clemens, read the email and was intrigued with Matumoto.
"It was sort of this pleading petition, 'Would you really help us realize our dream?'" said Hendricks. "But we thought, because of his age, that nobody would be interested. You know how the system works."
Hendricks, though, took a chance and was realistic about the possibilities. He told Matomuto that he might be able to find an independent league team to give Matumoto a tryout. After all, what Major League team would be interested in an aging pitcher with no professional experience?
Hendricks invited Matumoto to fly to Houston in February to do some preliminary workouts at the Roger Clemens Institute for Sports Medicine and Human Performance. Pitching instructor David Evans and a representative from the Golden Baseball League were present to watch.
They got their money's worth.
"We said, 'He doesn't belong in the independent leagues; he's got Major League stuff,'" Hendricks recalled.
So Matumoto went to another tryout -- this time in front of more than 40 Major League scouts -- in Florida. The lefty impressed once again, and Sal Butera, a special assistant to Blue Jays general manager J.P. Ricciardi, jumped at the chance to ink the Brazilian talent.
"I just thought if we got the opportunity, he was somebody not like anyone we have in the Minor Leagues," Butera said. "I saw enough there that I thought he was worth the risk. He's had no tutelage -- no training whatsoever. He's as raw a commodity as you get."
Since joining the Fisher Cats, Matumoto has been, for the most part, a pleasant surprise. He sports a 4.02 ERA with 22 strikeouts in 31 1/3 innings pitched. He began the season with a scoreless streak of 10.1 innings pitched.
"It has gone well," said Matumoto. "I like it a lot here. I am very happy."
Matumoto, however, says he is still adjusting to life in the Minor Leagues. He is still used to playing only once a week, as the Brazilian team generally played on just Saturdays and Sundays. He is learning new signs, a different baseball language and new players.
The style of play is also quite different from Matumoto's past experience. In Japan, hitters employ different strategies and rely on other attributes than American players.
"It is very different here," said Matumoto. "Everyone has strength. In Japan, it's more about quickness and speed. There's a lot more bunting."
Matumoto, however, isn't making excuses. He is far from satisfied.
"I am changing the way I play a little bit," said Matumoto. "I am working on my motion so that I can have more control." "I haven't had a lot of chances to prove myself. I want to play more and show the team they can trust and have confidence in me. I want to play better."
In the end, despite all his ups and downs, despite the cultural differences, Matumoto insists that he isn't different from any other ballplayer. He may not be able to speak English very well, but he knows how to pitch. He may be 36 in a league where most players are under 25, but he's comfortable in the clubhouse. He may not understand American culture, but he yearns to play in the big leagues.
"Just like everyone here," said Matumoto, trying to hide his smile, "I dream of playing the Major Leagues."
Matumoto, after an improbable 20-year journey, is finally right where he belongs as a 36-year-old rookie.
Evan Mohl is an associate reporter for MLB.com.