Off and Running in Japan

In ancient Nippon, samurai warriors raced their horses for the honor of being the first to lop off an enemy's head. The horses are still running, but today the most that a man can lose is his bank account. In the past decade the total annual betting has increased tenfold to $1.6 billion, or more money than the government spends on national defense or foreign aid. Horse racing in fact has become the new national pastime of Japan, outdrawing major league baseball in attendance last year by the astounding margin of 60 million to 7,400,000.

Last week railbirds camped outside the Tokyo Race Course for three days to buy tickets for the 37th running of the Japan Derby. Other fans took part in the annual taxi derby, a wild last-minute rush to the track by hundreds of kamikaze drivers who are tipped 100 yen (27-c-) by customers for each rival taxi they pass. Among the 120,000 spectators who packed the track was a large contingent of housewives in kimonos and miniskirted girls who waited in long lines at the ladies-only betting windows.

As the nine daily racing sheets predicted, a chestnut colt named Tanino Moutiers from Hokkaido broke away from the field of 22 three-year-olds to win the l 1/2-mile race. The purse of $63,000 raised his total earnings to $284,000, a record for three-year-olds inJapan. At the finish, poorer but poetic grandstanders followed tradition by throwing their losing tickets in the air in unison to simulate the falling of cherry blossoms.

Big Push. Modern thoroughbred racing in Japan dates back to 1888, when horses were imported from Europe under the pretext of improving the stock of the Japanese cavalry. Today there are 42 race tracks and 14 off-track betting centers, all of them crowded to capacity with eager bettors. The total on-and off-track handle for the Japan Derby, for example, was $12.7 million as compared with $2,383,972 for this year's Kentucky Derby. Complains one Japanese ticket seller: "A customer will stick his hand through the window to get his ticket and then won't be able to pull it out because so many people are pushing him from behind."

Promoters are pushing in other ways. Stereo recordings memorializing past derby winners, complete with poems("I'm born to race/ In my vessels only runs blood to race") and the sounds of their neighs, are selling briskly. Excitement, one of a score of recent books on horse racing, has sold 200,000 copies. Analyzing the craze, Tokyo Psychologist Kazuo Shimada suggests that it satisfies a psychic need in the world's most crowded country. "Merely living here," he says, "breeds friction, tension and frustration. Betting on the horses is a means of alleviating that pressure." As for the crush of the crowds, he adds: "Where interests are one and the same, we clannish Japanese delight in the multitude, finding in it not solitude but a soothing sense of belonging."

There is also a yen for more yen. In a recent association test, a group of Japanese businessmen were asked what the sight of a 10,000-yen banknote made them think of. Most of them replied: 1) Prince Shotoku, the 7th century statesman pictured on the note, and 2) horse racing.

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