LOS ANGELES – On the eve of the new season, as all eyes were on the Los Angeles Dodgers’ stadium, the most anticipated rookie – Roki Sasaki – silenced the baseball world. In a rare public outcry, he spoke deeply for the first time about the pain of losing his father and grandparents in the 2011 earthquake and tsunami disaster in Japan.
His voice lowered as he spoke of that fateful day.
“I lost my father and grandparents in just one afternoon,” Sasaki said. “There are memories I can’t erase. But I choose to carry them with me every time I step onto the mound.”
The entire press conference room fell silent.
On March 11, 2011, when the 9.1 magnitude earthquake struck the Tohoku region, Sasaki was just a third-grade boy in Rikuzentakata. The tsunami swept away his family’s neighborhood. His father – Kota Sasaki – and his paternal grandparents never returned.
The house was gone. The neighborhood was gone. His childhood shattered.
“At that time, all I knew was fear,” he shared. “I didn’t understand what was happening. I only knew that my father would never come home again.”

The remaining family – his mother and two brothers – had to move to Ofunato, starting from scratch. No belongings. No home. Just each other.
But amidst the ruins, baseball survived.
Sasaki says that during the hardest days, he only found solace in holding a baseball.
“When I play baseball, I can forget the pain for a while,” he says. “I can concentrate. I can breathe.”
It’s not just a sport. It’s his way of surviving mentally.
Years later, when his fastball reached 100 mph and he was dubbed a “monster” on Japanese high school pitches, few knew that behind those thunderous throws lay a broken heart.
“I don’t pitch for fame,” Sasaki said. “I pitch for my family. Because they won’t get to see me grow up.”
The Dodgers didn’t just sign a talent – they signed a story.
Sasaki’s joining the Dodgers was considered one of the most anticipated trades of the year. At 23, he was already considered one of the most cinematic pitchers in the world. But before his first season in MLB, instead of talking about speed or ERA, he chose to talk about memories.
“I’ve learned that life can change in minutes,” he shared. “So I don’t want to wait to pursue my dreams.”

That message deeply moved Dodgers fans. On social media, thousands of comments appeared in just a few hours:
“We’ll be cheering for you, not just for your talent, but for who you are.”
“You’re not throwing the ball alone. The whole city is behind you.”
Sasaki said he doesn’t often talk about the disaster because “pain doesn’t need to be displayed to exist.” But he wanted to share before the new season to remind himself why he’s here.
“I don’t want anyone to pity me,” he said. “I just want to live fully. If I can inspire someone who has experienced loss, then that’s what matters.”
He also sent a message to young people who haven’t experienced disaster:
“Don’t take the people around you for granted. Say words of love while you still can.”
In a previous international match, a coach once said Sasaki “threw with his soul.” Now, people understand just how profound that statement was.
Each 100-mph fastball wasn’t just about muscle power. It was about memory. It was about loss. It was about gratitude. It was about a promise.
Before leaving the press conference room, Sasaki paused.
“I believe my father would be proud,” he said softly. “And if he can see me from somewhere, I want him to know that I’m okay.”

His eyes lit up, but no tears fell.
Outside the stadium, fans had already begun lining up to buy his jersey. But for many, they weren’t just waiting for a new star. They were waiting for an icon of resilience.
The new season was about to begin. The pressure would be immense. Expectations would be enormous.
But for Roki Sasaki, the boy who once stood amidst the ruins of his hometown, there was no greater challenge than what he had already overcome.
And when he stepped onto the mound in a Dodgers jersey for the first time, there wouldn’t be just cheers. There would be memories. There will be the souls of families. And there will be the tears of those who believe that from ruins, light can still rise.