Tsuyoshi Shinjo - The road to "Big Boss"
Before we begin, yes. That is NPB legend, and manager of the Hokkaido Nippon-Ham Fighters Tsuyoshi Shinjo on a hoverbike, flying into the stadium making an entrance for the team as part of opening day festivities.
Every once in a while, baseball produces a personality so unique that the game almost feels bigger when they’re around. Tsuyoshi Shinjo, believe it or not, is one of those players. If you’ve ever wondered how a Japanese outfielder ended up calling himself “Big Boss,” the answer is simple: Shinjo has always treated baseball like part competition, part show. Honestly, the sport has been more fun because of it. Shinjo’s career started in Japan with the Hanshin Tigers, who drafted him in 1989 straight out of high school. Early on he developed a reputation for two things: elite defense and a flair for the dramatic. The guy could patrol the outfield like a Gold Glove magician, and he didn’t mind standing out while doing it. Flashy plays, big personality, colorful gear, you name it.
Over time he became one of the most recognizable players in Japanese baseball. Shinjo was known for dyed hair, colorful wristbands, and an unmistakable swagger that made him instantly recognizable the moment he stepped on the field. Even when he wasn’t putting up superstar numbers, fans loved watching him play because he always made the game feel exciting.
In 2001 though, Shinjo decided to try something that was still pretty unusual at the time: heading to Major League Baseball. He signed with the New York Mets, becoming the first Japanese-born position player to appear in the National League. His MLB numbers were solid rather than spectacular, a .245 batting average with 20 home runs over three seasons. Pretty average, but Shinjo had a knack for memorable moments. Mets fans especially remember his rookie season in 2001, when he brought strong defense, clutch hits, and plenty of energy to the lineup. He quickly became a fan favorite. After a trade to the San Francisco Giants, Shinjo made history again in 2002. That year, the Giants reached the World Series, making Shinjo the first Japanese-born player ever to appear in the Fall Classic. Even when he wasn’t lighting up the stat sheet, Shinjo brought something teams always value: good energy. Teammates always joked that wherever Shinjo went, a traveling circus of media and fans followed, and even though his MLB career only lasted three seasons, it helped open the door for more Japanese position players to feel comfortable coming to the majors regardless of whether or not they were an elite superstar talent or a consistent good performer. You didn't need to be a mega star on the stat sheets.
Like many players who crossed the Pacific in the early 2000s, Shinjo eventually returned to Japan. Returning home turned into one of the coolest final chapters a player could ask for though. Playing for the Hokkaido Nippon-Ham Fighters, Shinjo helped lead the team to a Japan Series championship in 2006 before announcing his retirement immediately afterward. Going out on top is something most players dream about and Shinjo actually pulled it off. For someone who always had a flair for the dramatic, it's probably the perfect way to put a bow on his playing career.
Now here’s where the story gets even better.
Years later, Shinjo returned to the Fighters, but not as a player. This time, he came back as manager.
During his introductory press conference in 2021, he told reporters something unusual. He didn’t want to be called “manager.” Instead he said:
“Call me Big Boss.”
I’m sorry… what?
And just like that, the nickname stuck.
Shinjo leaned into the persona completely. He even registered “BIGBOSS” as his official name with Nippon Professional Baseball, meaning that was literally what appeared on his jersey.
He turned games into an event. At one point (see the first image), he entered the stadium riding a hoverbike. Other times, he arrived on a three-wheeled motorcycle or staged theatrical introductions that felt closer to a wrestling entrance than a traditional baseball game, and all of this wasn’t just for laughs though. Shinjo’s goal was to energize the team and the fanbase during a rebuilding period for the Fighters. He wanted to do as much as he could to let the players take the field and perform with the least amount of pressure while they develop and grow. In true Shinjo fashion, he turned managing a baseball team into something that felt closer to a stage show.
In a lot of ways, I feel like Shinjo arrived before baseball was ready for him. Today, MLB markets players with personality much more openly: Bat flips are celebrated, players show off custom gear, and celebrations are part of the culture now.
Shinjo was pretty much doing all of that decades earlier. He was a Gold Glove outfielder in Japan, a pioneer among Japanese position players in Major League Baseball, a World Series participant, a Japan Series champion, and eventually one of the most entertaining managers in the sport. When you think about it, most players spend their careers trying to fit into baseball’s traditions. Shinjo kinda spent his career reminding everyone that the game can still be fun.
Baseball has produced plenty of great players over the years, but...only one Big Boss.