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Celeb Spill Daily

Step inside the Yu Darvish museum, where curiosities and dedication are on display

Author

Daniel Johnston

Published Apr 07, 2026

If you travel to Japan and find yourself with a free day in Kobe, you’ll have no shortage of options. There might not be a city in the world that has more museums.

More oddly specific museums.

Apart from the standard offerings — the contemporary art museum, the Hakutsuru sake brewery — you’ll find a museum dedicated to lamps and another to the glass used in lamps and another to Anpanman, the popular cartoon character whose head is a sweet bun filled with red bean paste. Visit the UCC Coffee Museum, where you can order an ultra-rare 10,000 Japanese yen pour-over from the French island of Réunion (roughly $70, a relative bargain with the dollar’s surging exchange rate). Or learn about the history of motorcycles at the cheerfully named Kawasaki Good Times World.

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There are museums that display nothing but music boxes or carpentry tools or antique (read: creepy) dolls. Don’t sleep on the Japanese Museum of Anesthesiology. Admission is free and so is a complimentary keychain featuring Hello Kitty in surgical scrubs.

As you might expect, there’s also a Kobe Beef Gallery. Alas, no free samples. Trust me, I asked.

And if you happen to be walking from the trick photography museum (because they have one of those, too) to catch a train at Sannomiya Station, as I was in November 2019, and randomly glance down the left side of Kitano-zaka Street, he’ll be staring back at you.

Yu Darvish. Beckoning you inside Space 11.

The Yu Darvish museum.

(Andrew Baggarly / The Athletic)

It opened in 2013 on Nov. 11 at precisely 11:11 a.m. It’s on the third floor of the Darvish Court Building, which he owns. It contains everything from his youth baseball trophies — the Excellent Player Award from a “Boys Baseball Rubber-Ball Tournament” is a statue of a cartoon dog swinging a bat — to his AL Rookie of the Month award. There’s the pitch counter that his father, Farsad, would click every time his young son threw off a mound. There’s the ball from the final out of the no-hitter he threw in the prestigious Koshien high school championship game, which turned him into a national sensation. You can try on a No. 11 replica jersey from any of his major-league teams. You are not, however, allowed to climb into his Phiten customized hyperbaric oxygen chamber.

There are diagrams that show how big his hands and feet are and how tall he was at different ages. There is a chart displaying the speeds of every pitch he throws, and because this is Yu Darvish we’re talking about, it’s an extensive list. There’s a curve, a slow curve and a power curve; a changeup and a high-speed changeup; a forkball and a split-finger fastball; a slider and a vertical slider; a sinker, a cutter, a two-seamer and a one-seamer. There’s a little space at the bottom for when he learns a knuckleball.

(Andrew Baggarly / The Athletic)
(Andrew Baggarly / The Athletic)
(Andrew Baggarly / The Athletic)
(Andrew Baggarly / The Athletic)

There’s a virtual reality game you can play (“Yu versus You”) in which visitors face a video version of Darvish on the mound while swinging a half-sized plastic bat with a motion capture sensor. They really want you to have an authentic experience. So they crank it up to 99 mph and program him to throw the kitchen sink. I took a dozen swings. I made contact once. The ball went 58 meters, which converts to “barely out of the infield.”

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Most strikingly, though, are the statues. They are life-size and lifelike.

Very lifelike.

(Andrew Baggarly / The Athletic)

His features are rendered in some type of silicone or polyurethane resin, but whatever it is, the effect is amazing. Darvish is frozen in mid-delivery in a Texas Rangers uniform, his jaw clenched in considerable effort. There are beads of perspiration on his upper lip. There is hair on his arms. Another statue shows him posed in a Chicago Cubs uniform, and apparently, he’s pitching a day game at Wrigley Field because he looks like he’s fighting the glare as he touches the brim of his hat and looks for the sign from his catcher. He’s holding a baseball in his exquisitely rendered right hand. You wish you had cuticles that looked this good.

Before I stumbled upon it, I had no idea that a Yu Darvish museum existed. It ended up being the second most memorable thing I experienced in Kobe. (Beef, duh.)

(Andrew Baggarly / The Athletic)

So when I returned from Japan and reported to Arizona to cover spring training, I was dead set on deviating from Giants camp for a day and driving over to Sloan Park in Mesa. I knew I had to write about the Yu Darvish museum. And naturally, I had to interview Darvish about it. I even rehearsed how I would introduce myself: “You haven’t met me before, but I feel like I’ve met you…”

On the morning I planned to visit Cubs camp, Major League Baseball announced that it was closing clubhouses to the media. The world was about to lock down because of COVID-19.

But I never forgot about the Yu Darvish museum. And more than two years later, in the dugout at Petco Park, I finally got my chance.

“You haven’t met me before, but…”

I showed him proof of my visit: the blue Space 11 wristband that I received as a complimentary gift with my 500 yen admission. And I had questions. How did this museum come into being? When was the last time he was there?

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“I think it must have been December of 2019,” Darvish said through interpreter Shingo Horie.

Ah, I just missed him, then. Although if he stood very still, I might not have realized he was actually there.

So, whose idea was this museum?

“My dad had a bunch of my baseball stuff,” Darvish said. “And he wanted to do something with it.”

Makes sense. My parents kept all my T-ball participation trophies, too. You can find them on display in a place called my attic. Darvish said his management company, which has offices in Darvish Court, runs the museum. It’s open again on a limited basis. As for the statues? No, he didn’t smoosh his face in plaster or have laser measurements taken. The statues were created from photographs. “I wasn’t really involved in that whole process,” he said. “As far as I know, it’s a sculptor who is really good at that in Japan.”

Isn’t it a bit creepy how lifelike they are?

Darvish shrugged. “They look like me.”

His favorite item in the museum? He answered without hesitation: the experience zone, and the Yu versus You game. He disagreed with my contention that they made it impossibly hard.

“I don’t think so,” he said. “I’ve seen little girls hit home runs.”

Great. Now I really need some time in that decompression chamber.

(Andrew Baggarly / The Athletic)

Darvish said he hasn’t met many people in the U.S. who have been to the museum. A brief survey of the Padres clubhouse made it clear that none of his teammates knew it existed. That includes right-hander Pierce Johnson, even though he lived in Kobe while pitching for the Hanshin Tigers in 2019.

Johnson can’t believe he missed out.

“Honestly, I’m bummed,” he said. “That’ll be my first stop when I get back to Kobe. Man. I wish I knew about it!”

Johnson, 31, was a first-round pick who never established himself beyond Triple A with the Cubs. When the Giants gave him a chance as a 27-year-old rookie to supply innings on a losing team in 2018, he posted a 5.56 ERA in 37 appearances. It wasn’t until he arrived in Japan that he began to harness a power curve that transformed him into the top reliever in the league. He finished with a 1.38 ERA in 58 games, helped lift Hanshin into the postseason and became a fan favorite.

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And he loved experiencing the culture with his wife, Kristina. He couldn’t believe that fans in every city would offer him coffee-related gifts just because he’d mentioned in an introductory press conference that he was a java fiend. He has a Starbucks mug from every prefecture. (Might want to add the UCC museum to your sightseeing list, Pierce.) And the atmosphere at the stadium was as caffeinated as it gets.

“The games there are more like a college football atmosphere,” he said. “Fans had drums and horns and everybody traveled with towels for each player. They were waving Johnson towels every time I came into a game. Every day was a new experience. I got to try new things and meet new people. Everybody was so encouraging and so nice. I got treated like a rock star.

“I go from being an up-and-down guy here to people wearing my jersey in a foreign country. I mean, what a cool experience.”

Another cool experience: becoming Darvish’s teammate in San Diego when the Cubs traded him to the Padres prior to last season. Darvish knew all about Johnson’s “PJ Curve,” as it was called in Japan. Everybody did. It was voted the top pitch in Nippon Professional Baseball in 2019. It didn’t take long before Darvish approached Johnson and asked him to demonstrate his grip.

“He told me last year, ‘Oh, I tried to throw the PJ curveball and I got a strikeout, so I kept throwing it,'” Johnson said. “And I’m like, ‘Dude, I’m honored.’

“His dedication to the game is something like I’ve never seen. He’s on his iPad every single day looking at video on how to attack each hitter. He’ll go back to video from 2015 if he needs to. It’s crazy. Honestly, he’s made a huge impact on our entire pitching staff because now everybody’s looking at their iPads. And his ability to pitch … he’s unbelievable. He’s always trying out something new — and he’ll do it in the middle of a game.”

Padres manager Bob Melvin watched Ichiro Suzuki’s daily routine with the Seattle Mariners. He can’t think of many other players who approach Darvish’s level of preparation.

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“I have been so impressed how at this point in his career, he’s still searching and digging for ways to get better,” Melvin said. “And he’s probably pitching as well as he ever has. That shows you his commitment and work ethic.”

Darvish, 36, was 16-8 this season and his 3.10 ERA ranked 11th among NL pitchers, but that doesn’t begin to describe what might be his most accomplished season. By several other measures, he was almost peerless. Only the Phillies’ Aaron Nola had a better K/BB ratio. Only Arizona’s Zac Gallen allowed fewer baserunners per inning. And only the Marlins’ incomparable Sandy Alcantara recorded more outs per start than Darvish, who averaged a shade under 6 2/3 innings.

They’ll have to create more space in the Space 11 History Zone for an NL Pitcher of the Month award, which Darvish received after going 5-1 with a 1.85 ERA over six starts in September. The Padres, who are all too familiar with greased slides in September, won the first five of Darvish’s starts in the month on the way to clinching a wild card and the No. 5 seed in the NL postseason bracket.

Darvish will take the mound Friday in New York for the Padres in Game 1 of their best-of-3 series against the Mets, and he’ll be looking to rewrite his personal history in the postseason. If his 5.18 ERA in seven playoff starts makes you nervous, just remember that you can trash his two worst ones. They came in the 2017 World Series against the sign-stealing Houston Astros. You won’t find any mementos from those two starts in the Darvish museum.

“Now that I know him, I’m not sure the museum will be able to give him enough credit for the kind of teammate and player he is,” Johnson said. “It’s been a pleasure playing with him. And after playing in Japan and seeing the country and the culture, I understand what a huge deal he is to them.”

There’s an ethos that any traveler to Japan is likely to encounter: the painstaking pride in perfecting one’s craft, no matter how mundane or inconsequential it might appear to be. So perhaps all those oddly specific museums in Kobe exist for a reason. Whether it’s raising the greatest beef in the world or making glass beads with the most clarity or brewing a flawless cup of very expensive coffee or, uh, being really awesome at anesthesiology, or whether it’s throwing a baseball that you learned to bend a dozen directions, there is a great reverence for anyone who works impossibly hard to maintain impossibly high standards. It’s a pride that is worthy of putting on public display.

And that applies to sculptors, too.

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“Wow,” said Johnson, as I showed him a photo of a Darvish statue. “Are those veins in his neck?”

(Top photo from the opening of the Space 11 Darvish Museum in 2013: Kyodo / AP Photo)