Читать книгу Winning Pachinko - Eric Sedensky - Страница 6

• Foreword •

by Robert J. Collins

"OK, here's the plan. We'll take a flat board, maybe a foot and a half by a couple feet, and we'll paste colorful pictures on it. Airplanes, and things."

"Gotcha."

"Then we'll drill a half dozen or so holes in the board, and surround the holes with little nails—a half-moon pattern of nails below the holes and one or two nails above the holes."

"I'm with you."

"Next, we'll stand the board on end and put a glass cover over it."

"Why would we do that?"

"To keep the balls from falling in your lap."

"What balls?"

"Oh yeah, I forgot that part. We'll take some shiny steel balls, about the size of marbles, and shoot those critters up to the top of the board and let them trickle down bouncing off the nails and now and then going into the holes."

"Why?"

"Because we'll angle the nails so that some of the... "

"No, I mean why are we doing all this?"

"We're creating a game—maybe one of the most popular games the world will ever know. Pay attention."

"All right. Some of the balls go into the holes. Then what?"

"Well... good point. Let's see. We could let people play until all the balls go into the holes and then everyone can go home."

"That doesn't sound like much fun."

"You're right. Wait, I've got it. Every time a ball goes into a hole we'll arrange to have some more balls shoot out as a reward."

"Great idea. Then everyone can take the balls home as prizes, and... ah..."

"Yeah, that could be a problem. One could fill up a house pretty quick with those balls. There must be another way. Hold it. This is it. We'll give out prizes based on how many balls a player wins."

"Trips to Spain, vacations in the South Pacific, imported automobiles, bags of diamonds... "

"No, no, no. Too expensive. What we'll do is give out prizes like... soap."

"Soap?"

"And cigarettte-lighter flints, golf tees, key chains."

"Are you out of your mind? We go to all this trouble with boards, pretty pictures, drilling holes, pounding in a bunch of nails, covering the whole thing with glass-do you realize how much glass costs? We go through all the trouble of getting people to buy balls and shoot them all over the place, and you are planning to give out

"I know, I know, but here's the thing. We'll find a way for the prizes to be redeemable."

"Redeemable?"

"Yeah. For cash."

"Ah, now you're talking."

Talking indeed. It is estimated that thirty million Japanese—one fourth the population of the entire country—are occasional or steady players of pachinko. Imagine that! Thirty million people. Flipping balls into holes.

And if you eliminate children under eighteen, who are not allowed to play anyway, the thirty million figure really represents nearly one half the nation's adult population. (And if you eliminate women, who are a growing but still minority portion of the total, we're talking about approximately three out of four Japanese men slipping off at one time or another for a session at the local gaming parlor.)

What's going on? Why is more money being spent on pachinko than is spent, for example, on national defense? Are we missing something here? I mean, anything else done by a significant portion of any population is scrutinized, analyzed and theorized to the point of distraction. ("Eleven point seven nine percent of adult males enjoy dressing up in silk underwear and parading...") The game of pachinko is truly a phenomenon in Japan, but what exactly is it?

Eric Sedensky tells us. "Hooked" as a relative newcomer to Japan, Sedensky-san strips off his international businessman persona at 5:00 p.m. (note to his employers—7:00 p.m.) and explores the highs, lows, ins and outs ofJapan's national, but secret, pastime. He has been interviewed on radio and television, and currently writes a monthly column in Pachinko-Jutsu— -the most innovative magazine dedicated to ball-in-the-hole aficionados.

There is money to be made playing the game—for some professionals the money approaches several hundred dollars a week. Sedensky-san has done that. (Note to his employers—forty or fifty dollars.)

Students, between classes, can pick up enough money to keep noodles and beer in the larder. Sedensky-san has operated at that level too. (Note to his employers—never mind.)

"Salary men," waiting for the next appointment or the train home, can justify the time spent in a pachinko parlor by writing off the expense as entertainment, breaking even, or even financing the trip to the next destination. All in all, not a bad deal.

Eric Sedensky tells us what to expect in a pachinko parlor, which machine to choose, how to "read" the nails, how to play, and where to redeem the booty of cigarette lighter flints for cash. His report is a fascinating study of a subculture of Japan that reaches to all strata of society.

The pachinko phenomenon is really a microcosmic reflection of Japanese attitudes toward relaxation and the "off-time" hours that must be filled. People from remote, mountainous areas are the only ones who really get a kick out of sitting isolated on one of those mountains "surveying all below." People living elbow to elbow in a cacophony of sound and a riot of color and movement are more comfortable in, well, a cacophony of sound and a riot of color and movement. What could be better, in that frame of reference, than sitting in a large room with a hundred or so countrymen, under bright, garish lights, with the racket of balls bouncing off nails in a duel with background pop songs, while concentrating on the dexterity required for this man-versus-machine confrontation.

"OK. I'm increasing the pressure. Look at those balls hitting the back nail. Wait, a pattern is emerging. If I let up a bit, there, the balls are starting to fall... not quite... yes, here it goes. Dammit, they're bouncing off to the left. Hey, that must be the fifth or sixth to go into that... the bonus hole is opening. If only, now drop in there, that's the way. OK. I'm ahead, and just in time. Why don't... those nails are bent against me. Look at how the balls slip past that nail, if only, wait, if I increase the pressure and bounce everything off the rubber stop. Uh oh, the pattern is broken. This machine is due for a payout. Wow, I must have picked up something from below. I'd better feed the tray. What happened there? The balls are now bouncing in an arc and they're missing. Ease up. That's it. Stick with this. Another bonus series. That one nail is killing me. Maybe if..."

The ability to concentrate amidst chaos is in itself a reward. It becomes easy to forget about a lot of things-in-laws, bills, bosses and the next appointment. And there's always the possibility of making money. The pioneers of the game sure had a good idea. This book tells all about it.