Motoko Ohbayashi

Motoko Ohbayashi (JPN)
The greatest Japanese player ever

Ohbayashi's face against the backdrop of the National Yoyogi Stadium in the advertisement for the World Grand Champions Cup, a new event created in 1993 by the Japanese to maintain interest in the sport. She has become a major sports figure in her country, though the interest for volleyball is giving way to other sports in Japan, mainly football.

In my eyes, Motoko Ohbayashi is the most spectacular Japanese player of the last two decades. Since I haven't seen Japan's teams prior to 1980 I don't know it they had such dominant players back then. I know that Japan won several Olympic and World titles in those times, but that was back when volleyball was evolving into the sport we know today. It seems like Japan's success in the past relied on their innovative skills and strategies, and obviously, on their flawless function as a team. But ever since Ohbayashi stepped into the scene in the mid-'80s as a member of the Japanese Junior Team, one knew that she was destined for greatness—individual or collective. Unfortunately, it came only individually. Ohbayashi is probably the best player in the world never to have won an Olympic medal, and considering all the effort and time she put into the Japanese National Team, it seems like one of those cruel injustices of destiny.

When I first saw her it was at the '87 Japan Cup, a tournament that the FIVB was using to experiment with the rally scoring system (sets were to 30 with no sideouts). Ohbayashi struck me as a skinny lefty who had a whiplash of an arm. She and setter Kumi Nakada connected very well, and Ohbayashi, who was just coming off the Junior World Championships in Korea that same year, was immediately chosen to integrate the Senior team. She was very effective and diverse in her attack, running inward slides, back ones, even blind back-shoots from setter Nakada. For such an early age, it was just the beginning.

Motoko serving at the '88 Olympic semifinal.

In Seoul '88, she impressed even more. Her enthusiasm and level of play elevated Japan to unexpected performances against top ranked teams. In the semifinal against Peru she was especially effective, with the help of Nakada's miraculous orchestration of a third set comeback from 2-0. Peru was so overly confident that they would blank Japan out in 3 sets, that they underestimated how good these players really were. Nakada was driving Peruvian middle-blocker/setter Rosa García insane with her quick sets. Peru's go-to hitter Cecilia Tait was getting blocked more often than not, and Japan's incredible defence was picking every single ball just centimetres from the ground. Ohbayashi surprised the Peruvians with quick ones that Nakada would all of a sudden set behind her back, and not just one, SEVERAL. Japan's enthusiasm grew as the feeling that they could actually dig themselves out of a 0-2 hole was becoming a reality of Olympic proportions. Japan rallied to a fifth set (back then it wasn't rally point scoring) and got just 4 points away from the gold medal match. Peru seemed disoriented, but managed to re-gain its focus and pulled out a 15-13 win. Ohbayashi's disappointment was evident in the end, her face expressionless in disbelief. Japan almost won, invigorated by their recent addition from the ranks of the Junior Team. For Maruyama, Hiro, and Sugiyama, they knew it was their last Olympics, but for Ohbayashi things were just starting.

Her next shot at Olympic gold came for Ohbayashi in the beautiful city of Barcelona. If things had gone for Japan the way they started, Ohbayashi would've definitely retained better memories of her Spanish experience. Their first (and only) miracle match came in their début against the USA, where Japan outlasted the US-Americans in five sets. Ohbayashi scored match point when Nakada set her to the back row and USA player Yoko Zetterlund (who was raised in Japan and played for a university there) couldn't dig the ball, sending it out of bounds. But from then on things didn't go well for Japan. The other match that really mattered was against the Unified Team, and that was an easy loss for Japan. Their quarterfinal matchup against Brazil, was technically a great match to watch. Despite Ohbayashi and Nakada playing their hearts out on the court, Ichiko Satoh diving for the most amazing digs, and Brazil succumbing to their own nerves at times, Japan couldn't contain the eventual on-rush of Brazilian paixão, losing 3-1 and losing Olympic hope.

Always cheerful, Ohbayashi donned the Japanese uniform for well over a decade, starting as early as 1987 on the Senior National Team and defending her country's colours for almost an entire decade. Now she is a sport's commentator in Japan, which goes to show how she continues to be linked to the sport.

Ohbayashi and Nakada cried long and hard after that match, for the future of Japanese volleyball was not looking bright, and this had been an opportunity to at least end up in the same place as Seoul, with a much reduced team. However, it was obvious that Japan was losing ground to the more powerful teams, the more physically extreme teams of Cuba, Russia, Brazil, and the USA. As difficult as it was to acknowledge, the dynasty of Japanese volleyball ended in the Palau Sant Jordi in Barcelona. Ohbayashi remained with the team throughout much of the remainder of the decade. She represented her national colours until prior to the World Championships in her country in 1998. But the level of the rest of the Japanese team declined, resulting in poorer finishings with each tournament: the 94 World's, the '96 Olympics, and the '98 World's all did not see good performances by Japan. This is a real pity, because Motoko Ohbayashi was still putting on world-class acts.

Ohbayashi hits a ball at the 95 World Cup. Though her team ended up in 6th place, she was spectacular in every way. [FIVB Photo Archives]

Every year it seemed like she got better, carrying the team on her shoulders ever more. In Atlanta she amazed me especially with her performance against teams like China that are not so physically overpowering. Diminute setter Chieko Nakanishi (point in case of the limitations of a 1.61-metre player at international levels) was distributing balls to all her hitters but no one was being successful. In the end she always went to Ohbayashi, wherever she was—back row, at the far end of the net, it didn't matter, for Ohbayashi always found a way to put the ball down. One of the plays I'll never forget came at 4-2 in the first set against China, when on a free ball Nakanishi pretended to jump set a back one to Ohbayashi who was coming in for the kill, but Nakanishi didn't even touch the ball, removing her hands and letting slam the back-looped ball onto Chinese court. Plays like these, or her famous fake quick jumps that she would delay a beat or two and then whip the ball herself, were classic Ohbayashi. Unfortunately, differences with the national team coach didn't permit her to play for Japan at the World Championships at home in '98. They certainly could have used her, seeing the dismal performances that Japan put on in its own turf. Sad, that Ohbayashi became the best player on the planet without a team to play on.

I don't know what she is doing nowadays, maybe still playing club in Japan, but I'll never forget when I met her at the Goodwill Games in '94 in Saint Petersburg, Russia. She was stretching on the stands of the Winter Stadium when I approached her and started talking to her in English. To my misfortune, she didn't

understand what I was saying and so I had to have a Japanese friend translate. She was very polite, smiling incessantly as my Japanese friend told her that I was Peruvian, a big fan of hers, had been following her career for a long time, and wished her all the best in the future. (I should've said, "Get a better team!" but that would've garnered me a slap in the face, right?) She gave me her autograph, which I will treasure forever. At least in my website, Motoko Ohbayashi will go recognised as one of the best volleyball players of all time.