Yuriko Gamo Romer & Masanori “Mashi” Murakami on Diamond Diplomacy
Director Yuriko Gamo Romer and baseball legend Masanori “Mashi” Murakami, the first Japanese player in Major League Baseball, join me to discuss Diamond Diplomacy, a moving documentary about how baseball became a bridge between Japan and the United States.
Through archival storytelling and intimate reflection, the film captures how one sport transcended rivalry and became a symbol of cultural friendship.
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Where to Watch Diamond Diplomacy
Learn more and find screenings at diamonddiplomacy.com.
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The following transcript has been edited for clarity, readability, and length while preserving the original intent of the conversation.
Austin: Hello, everyone! I’m Austin Belzer from Austin B Media, and welcome to my interview with director Yuriko Gamo Romer and baseball legend Masanori “Mashi” Murakami, the first Japanese player in Major League Baseball. Their documentary Diamond Diplomacy beautifully explores how baseball became a bridge between Japan and the United States. It’s a heartfelt reflection on culture, identity, and connection through sports. Thank you both for joining me today—how are you?
Yuriko: We’re good. Thank you for having us.
Austin: Good! Hopefully it hasn’t been too long a day of interviews.
Yuriko: Not at all. Today, we actually got a baseball tour of Hot Springs. Once upon a time, in Babe Ruth’s era, they held spring training here. We got to see the home plate where Babe Ruth hit what was recorded as the longest home run, 578 feet. The ball supposedly landed in an alligator pond, and those same ponds still exist. We even saw the alligators.
Austin: That’s amazing. Hot Springs, Arkansas, right? I was there last year. I remember people filling jugs with hot-spring water from the public fountain.
Yuriko: We were there this morning!
Austin: That’s great. I could talk about Hot Springs all day, but that’s not what we’re here to discuss. First things first—Yuriko, what inspired you to tell this story, and what did you see in Mashi’s journey that went beyond sports?
Yuriko: It began with a friend’s father, Con Dempsey, who had pitched for the San Francisco Seals—the minor-league team before the majors arrived in California. In 1949, during the Allied occupation, General MacArthur sent the Seals to Japan on a goodwill tour. I saw a museum exhibit about that trip and was amazed that such a wonderful exchange had happened, and hardly anyone knew about it.
I asked my friend to find his father’s home movies, and that became the seed of the film. As I researched, I realized the story went far deeper and needed to be a larger project. A few years later, the San Francisco Giants celebrated the 50th anniversary of Mashi joining the majors. I filmed that event, met Mashi, and that really launched production. He had such a warm personality and fascinating stories—a 19-year-old suddenly pitching in America. I knew right away we had something special.
Austin: Watching the film reminded me of another baseball documentary, The League from Magnolia Pictures. Mashi, I’d like to springboard off what Yuriko said. When you first arrived in the United States to play in the minors, what was that experience like emotionally and culturally?
Yuriko (translating): When he first came, he spoke almost no English, so it was tough. But once the game started, baseball was baseball. He became the closer—the pitcher who finishes close games. Sometimes the team was losing badly, and he wanted to help, but the manager would tell him, “No, we need you tomorrow—rest today.”
He also noticed differences between Japan and the U.S. In Japan, young players earn a regular salary, even a small one. Here, you don’t get paid until the season starts, which surprised him. At one point, the manager brought out boxes of uniforms for players to choose from. Mashi didn’t know what was happening until a teammate said, “Grab yours!” Only a few were left, so he ended up wearing number 6 for home games and number 8 for away games. In Japan, every player is formally assigned a uniform, so it was a shock to realize these were leftover jerseys from higher-level teams.
Austin: That’s a great glimpse into the culture shock. What was it like when he moved from the minors to the majors with the Giants?
Yuriko (translating): He was told almost at the last minute that he’d been called up. The manager handed him a plane ticket and said, “You’re pitching for the Giants.” He had to find the right plane to New York, then the right bus to the hotel. When he arrived, his name wasn’t on the list, and no one was there to meet him.
He sat in the lobby for about twenty minutes, wondering what to do, thinking, “Tomorrow I might be out on the street.” Finally, someone from the team arrived, and that’s how his major-league career began. It’s hard to imagine that happening today.
Austin: Incredible story. Yuriko, I want to talk about the filmmaking itself—the balance between historical research, archival storytelling, and modern interviews. How did you blend those to give the film its emotional core?
Yuriko: It’s always tough editing a film that covers 150 years of history. From the start, I knew I’d need to weave contemporary interviews with older material. Some people we discussed were long gone, so we relied on photographs and archival footage.
We were lucky to film an exhibition at the U.S. Embassy in Tokyo that displayed photos tracing U.S.–Japan baseball history. That helped visually connect past and present. For the 1800s, when no film existed, I used Japanese woodblock prints—they were the “photographs” of that era—and they added texture and authenticity.
Austin: When you go that far back, was the archival material even usable?
Yuriko: The bigger problem was that much of it simply didn’t exist. For instance, there’s one key photograph of a Japanese team wearing kimonos. The only copy we could find was low-resolution, but it tells the story, so we used it. Some damaged photos we restored, but there’s no AI in the film. Everything was done by hand.
Austin: That’s something audiences appreciate. Moving away from the archives, how did you two approach working together, and what did you learn through telling Mashi’s story?
Yuriko: I’ve interviewed Mashi several times over the last decade, and we’ve become good friends. We also share a connection with the writer who authored his English-language biography, so we often travel together for panels and screenings.
Over time, I came to understand the nuance of his experience—how he loved playing in the U.S. and wished he could have stayed longer, but he’d promised his Japanese manager he’d return. That decision carried a sense of regret. Capturing that feeling truthfully was important to me.
Austin: Today, there are many Japanese players in MLB—Shohei Ohtani comes to mind. How does Mashi feel seeing his legacy celebrated through this film?
Yuriko (translating): He says he didn’t realize at first how big this film would become—he jokes that I didn’t tell him! He’s happy that more people are learning who he is. In Japan, he feels there’s less appreciation for baseball history compared to the U.S., where fans constantly reference past heroes like Babe Ruth.
For years, few people in Japan remembered him, but he hopes the film changes that and helps people value the shared baseball history between our countries.
Austin: That’s such a great point. I hadn’t thought about the difference in how history is celebrated. What do you both hope audiences take away about baseball’s role in bridging cultures?
Yuriko: I think the themes go beyond baseball. We’re living in a time with more division than connection. If people can look at a story that spans a century and see how two nations overcame hardship to build friendship, maybe they’ll feel a little more hopeful. Diamond Diplomacy is really about people-to-people diplomacy—the understanding that peace starts with individuals learning each other’s cultures.
Yuriko (translating): He hopes viewers come away recognizing that he’s part of this larger history. There’s a scene in the film where he throws the first pitch at a Giants game, and his young grandson runs onto the field. The mascot comes over and they all high-five. For him, that moment captures everything—family, legacy, and joy.
Austin: That must be such a meaningful memory. Before we wrap up, where can people see Diamond Diplomacy?
Yuriko: Tomorrow night, it’s screening here in Hot Springs, Arkansas, at 5 PM. The best way to keep up is to visit diamonddiplomacy.com, where we list upcoming screenings and a newsletter signup. We’re still on the festival circuit and hope to announce distribution soon.
Austin: Perfect. I’ll include that link in the description. Thank you both again—it’s been a true honor speaking with you.
Yuriko: Thank you so much for having us.
Mashi: Thank you.
Austin: And my dog thanks you, too! Have a great rest of your day.
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