Commitment to Cutting Off Retreat / Determination for the 6th Year at Kataller Toyama
▪️Introduction
▪️Doubts about the 'Secondment = Having a Retreat' Stance
▪️Restarting as a Professional (Fixed-term Employee)
▪️The Sharpness of Work Increased by Cutting Off Retreat
▪️'Executive = Lonely' Bring It On
▪️Postscript
▪️Introduction
This note is the original version of the column "Banri Ikku" (Ten Thousand Miles, One Sky) currently serialized in the morning edition of the Toyama Shimbun. Please note in advance that the column has a character limit, and I have significantly reduced the content of this note while being careful not to break the context.
▪️Doubts about the 'Secondment = Having a Retreat' Stance
"It must be nice to be the president, you have a place to go back to even if you get fired here." ...Over 20 years ago, when I was seconded from Nissan Motor to Yokohama Marinos. When I decided not to renew the contracts of several players during the contract renewal period that begins early in the off-season, a player spat those words at me. It is true that because I was a seconded employee, I had a contract to return to Nissan regardless of my performance at Marinos. Also, quite a few clubs adopted a system where "presidents seconded from the parent company either return after a certain period or reach retirement age there." To such seconded presidents, players on fixed-term contracts might not see them as partners in the same boat. Furthermore, from the perspective of regular employees, it might dampen their upward mobility, thinking, "I can never become president here anyway, and some of the executive positions will be occupied by parent company employees."
▪️Restarting as a Professional (Fixed-term Employee)
Professional players are fixed-term employees, and if their contracts are not renewed, they lose their jobs. They must always continue to hone their performance under that tension. When I first became president of Marinos from Nissan, I honestly did not understand that fear and severity. "A person with a retreat cuts off a person without a retreat"... Having deeply felt the unreasonableness and guilt of that, I negotiated with Nissan to transfer my registration. I was a professional president on a fixed-term contract in my late 40s. To be honest, when my retirement money was deposited and I returned my ID and badge, I was struck by a vague, heavy anxiety about the future that I had never experienced before. Even so, the team welcomed a president who "might be cut at any time" as a comrade, and I believe the employees were also happy to have me as the president of "Marinos."

Naturally, my colleagues at Nissan were vehemently opposed. At the time, Marinos was called a big club in the soccer world, but to my colleagues, it was a small-to-medium enterprise with annual sales of less than 5 billion yen. Also, while I could understand the success or failure of a business if I were making things with my own hands and selling them myself like at Nissan, the business of a top team, where the success or failure is determined by winning or losing, is a trade that could be called absurd, as it is decided by the team's strength beyond my own hands. They urged me to change my mind, saying it was "much labor and little profit." I understood that, and I had no small amount of resistance to entrusting myself to it. Even so, I strongly felt that I had to assimilate with the team and the regular employees in terms of status as well, and I decided to break away from being "someone who will return to Nissan anyway."

▪️The Sharpness of Work Increased by Cutting Off Retreat
Since leaving Marinos, I have spent 20 years until moving to Kataller Toyama—6 years at Shonan Bellmare, 5 years at Shimizu S-Pulse, and 1 year at Veltex Shizuoka (B.League)—basically renewing one-year contracts. Every year was a battle, and as the time for contract expiration approached, I sometimes felt anxious about what would happen next year, but in exchange, the sharpness of my work clearly changed. I began to firmly create a compass that would lead to the future, and after clarifying annual policies and specific goals and measures, I started to evaluate and analyze in short cycles. I also grasped the feeling that results could be logically verified. Now, the joy that the club recognizes me and follows me far outweighs the anxiety that "I might be a NEET next year." I say this now, but the fact that many championships and promotions were achieved as planned is likely not unrelated to this "cut off the retreat" mentality.

▪️'Executive = Lonely' Bring It On
From March 3rd, Kataller Toyama will also enter its 6th year. Since I am working on a two-year contract, this term will be the end of my third contract. When I came here, I sold my house in Kanagawa, cutting off my retreat both publicly and privately. Until around the year before last, when the end of the year came, I was often asked, "Are you going home (to Kanagawa) this year?" and each time I would answer, "My home is in Toyama, and I have nowhere to go back to," but last year that conversation disappeared. As recognition as a Toyama resident has progressed, I am entering my 6th year while taking full external responsibility for all the work of the team and the employees. Whether it's a losing streak, a scandal, or poor performance, I am prepared to stand alone in the face of criticism and attacks. I have experienced many times being subjected to harsh criticism, words, and attitudes, but if I were to worry about such things, I shouldn't be doing this job.

In that sense, an executive can be said to be lonely. There is nothing behind the seat I sit in as the last bastion, and no one will help me. Even so, as a professional, I will not run away from loneliness.
I record this here as my determination for my 6th year at Kataller.
▪️Postscript
When I moved to Kataller Toyama, the colleagues mentioned above who were vehemently opposed to my professional transition in the soccer world held a celebration for me. And at the table, they said this to me.
"We have a car pick us up in the morning, hold meetings, stamp documents, have business dinners, and play business golf on our days off. We have no shortage of money and can eat delicious food. But you know, when I see you constantly raising funds and carving out your own path with your own feet, I start to feel like a bird in a cage. In that respect, you might be hungry and have low earnings, but since you have no cage, you can fly freely in the sky, which I'm a little envious of. Well, I couldn't do it myself." ...I understand this as receiving the highest praise from colleagues I have associated with for many years.

