Kawasaki Munenori wrote as follows, recalling that he had seen Suzuki Ichiro for the first time.
When I saw Ichiro-san hit and run, I was amazed at what a slender baseballer existed. I had held the idea that top players must have a massive physique, like Kiyohara Kazuhiro or Matsui Hideki. However, Ichiro-san overthrew it. He flew a ball farthest and ran fastest. He was the best player, though he was such thin.
He was undoubtedly the light for me.
I have seen the light in the dark, too, and two times at that.
The first one is Nagase Takuya, who is a player of Japanese chess. I saw him for the first time in 2015. He was talking in an interview, "Japanese chess is a difficult game, but it never needs talent. It needs only endeavor. I believe I can win as much as I make efforts." I had already been an adult at that time, so I didn't take him at his word, nor I thought childishly, "I can do everything if I will work hard." However, I was deeply impressed by his smile. He accepts that he is not gifted, but he shows no despair. He doesn't envy other players' talent because he is confident that he can change the result of the game from loss to win up to his efforts. I felt, "I hope to be such a man," though I am senior to him.
The second light is Shimauchi Yuko. She is a professor of OUJ, the short form of the Open University of Japan, also called Hoso Daigaku. I got into OUJ in 2018, and luckily I happened on The Classics and the Modernity in Japanese Literature, written by Ms. Shimauchi. When I read it for the first time, I was so interested and excited. I don't forget that emotion. She had the perspective about acceptance of classics and detailed knowledge of various literary genres. If I had not known this textbook, I lived feeling, "My life is useless, cheerless, and worthless." I must have gotten old without concrete action, though I said, "I love literature. I dream of studying it more."