Former Village Voice media critic Tom Carson once wrote an essay in which he blasted the style imperative subscribed to by American men's magazines. These publications had invested so heavily in a certain male image that they couldn't imagine anything else. "You want to strike terror in the hearts of the editors of GQ?" Carson asked. "Just tell them that someday Jack Nicholson will die."
A similar sort of anxiety is evident in coverage of former baseball star Shigeo Nagashima after he suffered a stroke March 4. For the first week, Nagashima's condition was reported on TV almost as regularly as the dying Showa Emperor's condition was back in the winter of 1988-89. The initial reports about Nagashima were optimistic, but in a vague sort of way since they were being relayed mainly by spokespersons, not doctors. Eventually we learned that Nagashima's condition was worse than the public had been led to believe.
Mister Giants -- or simply "Mister" -- as Nagashima is affectionately known, is one of the few great surviving cultural heroes of the Showa Era. As the star of the Yomiuri Giants throughout the '60s and later the team's manager, he has earned a unique place in Japanese society, a man of accomplishment whose avuncular good humor is beloved by everyone. He represents Japanese baseball so completely that some people actually believe the sport would not survive his loss.