
A few years ago, the Japan Sumo Association (Nihon Sumo Kyokai) declared that all sumo wrestlers had to be fluent in Japanese, a move largely interpreted as xenophobia, or at best, a shield against the influx of non-Japanese sumo wrestlers. Japan is often regarded by foreigners as insular, for reasons both geographical (it is, after all, an island nation) and historical (for centuries, contact with outsiders was banned or heavily restricted); this move by the Nihon Sumo Kyokai seemed to fit perfectly in with this stereotype.
Under pressure, the association later lifted the rule, and now the LPGA--supposedly a bastion of progressivism in a male-dominated sports world--has suffered its own similar xenophobic policy reversal. In late August, the LPGA announced that, due to public-relations requirements, all LPGA players would be required to speak English, if not fluently, then at least adequately. Offenders would be suspended from the tour.
The media maelstrom that erupted should have surprised nobody, especially given the increasingly diverse demographics of LPGA winners these days. Women from the East, particularly South Korea, have been the dominant young players, and have represented a virtual tsunami of new talent.
Of the current top-ten money winners, half are Asian, led by the rookie Yani Tseng at #4. in 2007, 4 of the top 10 money winners had Asian roots, while in 2006 there were only 3. Since 2004, Paula Creamer has been the only non-Asian to win Rolex Rookie of the Year, and in 2007, a staggering 14 of the top 20 in the Rolex Rookie rankings had Asian roots. The LPGA is fast becoming an international sport, if not a largely Asian one, and in this context, the English-language dictum looked like knee-jerk protectionism.
A week later, on Sept. 2, LPGA Commissioner issued a clarifying statement, clearly backpedaling somewhat, explaining that the players had to "demonstrate a basic level of communication in English" not "fluency, or . . proficiency." She told about how the LPGA had offered English lessons and how most players had taken to them voraciously, and about the economic and PR reasons for doing so: "Unlike athletes in other sports, LPGA players must entertain and engage sponsors and their customers on a weekly basis; our business model does not rely on advertising and ticket sales as others do. . . We would be doing our players a disservice if we did not enforce our communication policy."
Don't fret, don't fuss, she said: this is for your own good.
It wasn't so much the intention of the policy, nor even its likely effects, that bristled many commentators, but that the LPGA would suspend players who didn't reach the minimum proficiency, beginning in 2010. In this way, it was precisely like the policy of the Nihon Sumo Kyokai: speak our language or you can't play.
No matter the sport or nation, this kind of policy is simply backwards. In team sports, a lack of fluency can hamper dynamics, but that hasn't stopped players like perennial All-Star Yao Ming from succeeding in the NBA, nor Ichiro Suzuki from winning simultaneous ROY and MVP awards in MLB.
Individual sports can allow for a certain lack of fluency, as golfers need only communicate with their caddies to succeed, but to feel a part of their league, they must communicate on a basic level. And, as the LPGA itself admitted, players would only be hurting themselves financially by not learning English, diminishing big-money endorsements and PR-bolstering interviews.
As if this is the reason for playing golf, or any sport: to maximize income.
The real issue, of course, was the finances of the LPGA itself. Without stars who could at least pass for Western--and who could do the nice round-eye softshoe in front of Western press--they worried that their ad dollars would plummet.
As if Yao Ming has harmed the NBA, or Ichiro, MLB.
To the contrary: these trailblazers have meant greater exposure for Eastern athletes (think how many Asian stars there are in baseball now) even as they've extended their markets farther to the East (the US-China basketball game in the Olympics had a viewership in the billions). And both Ichiro and Yao still interview through interpreters, although their English is good enough for them to work with their peers--and good enough for rumors of an obscenity-laden tirade to be delivered by Ichiro to the moribund Mariners earlier this season. This hasn't hurt their popularity on or off the field.
It doesn't take speaking the native language to succeed in a sport; all it does is help the league make more money, and both the LPGA and Nihon Sumo Kyokai were caught in this attempt at thinly veiled xenophobia. Fortunately, two days after their clarification statement, the LPGA issued an alteration to its policy, stating that, "The LPGA will announce a revised approach, absent playing penalties, by the end of 2008."
Perhaps someday soon we'll all speak the same language: the international language of sport, and not of finance.