Lost in Translation
Not long ago I happened to see Ichiro Suzuki doing a post
game interview with an US American reporter. Standing firmly by Ichiro’s side was his
translator; and all correspondences were filtered through him. Disgusted, I couldn’t help but mumble a few
choice phrases (in multiple languages). You
mean to tell me that in seven and a half years, Ichiro Suzuki still hasn’t
picked up the English language? Really? Not even a little bit? His inability to at least try and speak the language of the people who pay him wouldn’t have bothered me when he was a rookie, but he’s been playing in the
States for a long time now — constantly surrounded by English speakers,
bombarded with English at every turn — and yet he feigns ignorance and acts
surprised when someone tries to actually use English to communicate with him.
As an ardent supporter of multi-culturalism and a strong lobbyist
for forcing young children to learn at least one foreign language in primary school, I couldn’t have been more
ashamed of Ichiro’s apparent lack of effort.
Seriously. I wanted to shake
And then I remembered…
I remembered that Ichiro must still have the emotional scars
that resulted from using the English he was taught in this dynamic, ground-breaking, utilitarian language
So I forgive you, Ichiro.
And I’m very, very sorry you had to go through that. (*On a side note: I’d like to go on record
saying the Japanese are kind of weird)
Don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.