Day 20: Thursday November 6: Bike Race

Today I went to see a Keirin race (bike racing around a track) in Kyoto.

When I first asked Y. for some information about seeing a Keirin race, her reaction was one of exaggerated shock and horror--"Whaaat!? You want to see a bike race?" I had expected this reaction, first because it is often the reaction she gives to things we say ("You cooked with your fish grill? Yourself??"), but second because I had already been warned that the spectators at Keirin races tend to be, let's say, on the lower end of society. Y.'s way of putting it was: "These are not very sophisticated people who go to the races."

But, she risked her reputation and provided me with the name of a track in Kyoto ("Muko-machi"), and said there should be a shuttle bus to and from the station. About halfway through the train ride to Kyoto, I saw an older man in the seat across from me picking his nose! This would be unusual in most countries, but it was particularly shocking to see in Japan--I'm pretty sure it was the first time I had seen someone doing that in public. And my reaction was: You are going to the track and I will follow you there.

As the ride went on, I noticed more and more people boarding the train who looked very similar to the nosepicker--older, male, fishing hat, unshaven face, reeking of cigarette smoke, reading the sports section of the paper. And sure enough, when I followed the nosepicker off the train, I found myself waiting to board a bus along with the rest of them. So similar was everyone getting on the bus that the woman coordinating the shuttle bus actually stopped me and pointed me to a different bus! I shook my head and said "Muko-machi," she gave me a weird look, and let me board.

It turns out that all of Japan's repressed uncivilized behavior--the spitting, the nose picking, the throwing cigarette buts on the ground--gets channeled into the audience at a Keirin race. I was completely surrounded by older men (I was the youngest person by at least 20 years) behaving exactly unlike everyone else we've seen in Japan. Actually, I wasn't really surrounded by them--most of them spent the entire day in the gambling tent, because that's what everyone goes for. No one goes to enjoy the athletic skill or the race itself--it's all about the gambling.

Although photography is banned, I sat in the back and snapped a few shots of the races, figuring I would be able to use the "I don't understand Japanese" excuse if I were caught.

The racers bow as they enter the stadium, line up, and bow again to the few people in the stands actually watching them race and not placing last-minute bets.

The weird thing about Keirin races is that, for the first couple laps, the racers have to stay behind a pacer, so they don't really pick up much speed early on. What's weird is that it makes for the most uneventful, disappointing start of any race imaginable. In track running, for instance, the start is so exciting because everyone pushes off with all their force. But here, the racers really have no incentive to go fast out of the gate because the pacer is 30 feet in front of them and they all have to stay behind him. So there's a guy yelling, literally screaming, the Japanese equivalent of "On you mark, get set... GO!"...

...and then doooodle do ho hum everyone slowly starts riding.

Behind the pacer.

After a couple laps, the pacer rides off the track. The speed begins to pick up, people jockey for position, and really let it go the last half lap or so.