Path to the 26th Annual Phoenix Cup: Introduction
Written by： Naoki Setokuma
November 25, 2010
Hello Everyone.
Thanks to the editorial department, I will be writing my mental state throughout the 26th annual Phoenix Cup and updating regularly until the next Phoenix Cup Final.
The stage is the Phoenix Cup, built up by my elder players encased with a sense of anxiety and accomplishment that would test the limits of most people. I pick up my pen with the idea that I would like anyone who hasn’t experienced this and any fans to get a taste of it.
I want to be straight forward and honest when I write what I felt during this competition.
I’m not a skilled writer, but I hope you will read this.
My fellow pro Ara often writes on his autographs, “Every summit is the base of another mountain”.
Until just a few months ago, these were words that I had heard, but never experienced first-hand.
I’ve finally climbed to the top of this mountain and now I feel nothing but anxiety about the next mountain I have to prepare for and its height. Now, let’s get started.
In the winter 5 years ago, the top of the mountain was right in front of me.
In the 22nd Annual Phoenix Cup Final, out of a total of 18 games, I held the lead for 17 of them. There was a 35.6 point difference between 2nd place and me.
If you know the JPML A-rules point system well then you’ll understand, but a 35.6 point lead with only 1 game left to go is something you can hang on to about 80-90% of the time.
However, I wasn’t able to take it down. Actually, this was a result that revealed my lack of ability.
In the JPML Newspaper at the time, the headline “Setokuma Let the Big One Get Away,” danced on the page.
I don’t know if it was fate, but the correspondent for this match was fellow pro Maehara.
Perhaps to Maehara it reflected my immaturity at the time.
At the end of that year in league I got 5th, 8th and 5th places and ended up watching the final from the sideline.
It’s easy to say now, but it was better that I lost the 22nd Phoenix Cup.
It’s weird to say “Good thing I lost” but the truth is that thanks to that loss I am who I am today.
I laid low in the league tournament. In the 26th Annual League series, when the 9th session finished, with only 1 session left to go it looked like I would be watching the final from the sidelines yet again…
February 6, 2010 was a clear day. The last session of the AI league for the year.
The 25th Pheonix Cup champion was Yudai maehara. And the accumulative points for all players were:
1st Hiroyuki Shibata +186.4 points
2nd Kazutoshi Itagawa +149.6 points
3rd Yuichiro Migita +103.3 points
4th Masashi Ishiwata +80.5 points
5th Masayoshi Ara +42.4 points
6th Takanori Oitsuki +32.8 points
7th Naoki Setokuma +32.1 points
It looked like this. The difference between myself and Migita, the 3rd place borderline, was 71.2 points.
Even though we were at the same table, I honestly thought that it was 80-90% impossible. The reason is that even if I was able to catch up with Migita, Ishiwata was still there on another table.
You can try to win all 4 games in the final session, but the A1 league isn’t that easy and in my experience I’ve come to realize that this is a near impossible order.
When I look back at my own blog from that time it reads,
“Under this blue sky without a cloud in it, I know I’m not a good person, mahjong is the one thing in which I have given my all. Today I’m going to put everything out on the table.”
I was putting on a brave face and forcing myself into a state of confidence.
That year I really learned a lot from Ara, Moriyama and Maehara.
It seemed that since the 4 years earlier, since Maehara had started keeping his eye on me, I had perhaps grown, but for the entire year I thought that I wanted to advance to the final stage and show this year’s Phoenix Cup winner, the 10-Tier winner and Grand Prix winner, the triple crown, the best, and show my gratitude to him, saying, “I’m finally here.”
However, going into the final session, on the inside I was realistic, thinking, “I’m going to have to give it my all for another year.”
On the other hand, I also had this in my mind:
“If I do make it to the final, will I now be able to handle the energy that I wasted that time that I lost? With my current level, maybe it would be better to try after I’ve improved a bit”
With these 2 thoughts stirring together in my mind, no part of me thought, “I’m going to make it, no matter what.”
Of course I told everyone cheering me on, “I’ll do my best and advance…”
The venue held the unmistakable atmosphere of the final session. This was the day the winners would be separated from the losers. The wins and losses we all go through throughout each year.
This is the day when I really feel that I’ve stepped into this industry.
When I feel happy that I get to experience days like this, the truth is that I always wonder if it is better to leave a more normal life.
At my table was Shibata (currently 1st, +186.4 points), Migita (currently 3rd, +103.3 points), and Ara (currently 5th, +42.4 points)
Then there was me, Setokuma (currently 7th, +32.1 points).
In the first game I could feel a bit of Migita’s anxiety. I had also experienced a final session in 4th place, 5 years ago, with a 30 point buffer.
So I was able to pick up on his feeling.
A stroke of luck got me a 12,000 point hand won directly from Migita. Migita was struggling.
However, in a 4-game match with both Ara and I chasing him, only 1 discarded winner would be fine.
Now it was us, the chasers, that would struggle. The game ended with Migita in last place and myself in 1st.
On the other table Ishiwata also took last place, making the totals:
Migita currently 3rd +80.6 points
Setokuma currently 4th +67.3 points
Ishiwata currently 5th +57.5 points
With all 3 of us vying for the same spot, there were only 3 games left to play.
At this point I was still quite calm. I was seizing Migita’s unfortunate state of mind.
Little by little, I began to light the fire of the fighting spirit sleeping inside of me.
In the 2nd game I attacked and took 1st.
In the south round I noticed that Migita seemed to be preparing himself for the worst. Then he took a positive 2nd place.
On the other table Ishiwata also ended positive, keeping himself in the race.
At the end of the 2nd game
Migita currently 2nd +87,9P
Setokuma currently 3rd +80,7P
Ishiwata currently 4th +63,8P
This is the point when I was first conscious of victory.
There is a saying, “Don’t think you’re going to win. If you think that, you’ll lose,” and if you go into a match with misplaced confidence is your biggest enemy.
In mahjong, controlling yourself at this point is a very heavy weight to bear.
I went into the 3rd game, forgetting to contain the excitement welling inside of me. Then my weak side started to show.
As anticipated, Migita was concentrating more than me. The 3rd game ended.
The bitter taste of the time I had lost before felt as if it was seeping through my skin more than ever.
Migita +19.1 points, Setokuma -15.7P points, on the other table: Ishiwata got an effortless +4.1points
At the end of the 3rd game
Migita currently 3rd +107.0 points
Ishiwata currently 4th +68.9 points
Setokuma currently 5th +65.0 points
The difference between myself and Migita was 42.0 points. This is where my 26th Annual Phoenix Cup race should have ended.
In this life of competition, I’ve experienced countless humiliating comebacks from other players but I’ve comeback with miraculous wins just as many times.
But, this time, I didn’t think there was any way the, “Goddess of Mahjong” would forgive my inability to control my own demeanor.
I arrived at the table, knowing in my heart that at the very least I needed to put my best forth, so as not to disappoint all the people watching me.
In the first hand (East-1) of the last game I was dealer. Migita dealt to me for a 5,800 point hand. My heart started to beat.
Right after that Migita drew an All Pairs hand with 2 dora and my light of hope went out.
After that the game continued with Migita and I taking turns winning hands.
In South-3, Migita was the dealer. He held 38,000 points.
I was in the West seat and held 40,000, currently in 1st place for the game. I had only 2 hands left to close up the 42 point gap between us.
I had to put Migita in the red for the game and take a big 1st place, keeping everyone else below 30,000 points. In my mind I was working out situations in which I could draw at least 3,000/6,000 or take 8,000 or more from him directly.
In the corner of the mind I had the objectivity to think, “real mahjong is not a comic book.”
Then, the fateful hand.
Dora:
The hand went smoothly from the first draw. I drew and suddenly a light went on. I came back to my senses.
I thought of a final hand and moved forward with a clear mind.
I declared a quad (kan) with . On the supplementary draw I picked up . After that I drew 2 . I declared another quad.
Conc-Quad: 
Conc-Quad: Reach
I had discarded 2b the round before, so as not to stray from my path.
The 12th discard came and I drew 3b. Then I reached.
Conc-Quad: Conc-Quad: Reach
I’m sure everyone thinks that I was thinking, “I will draw this winner” but I was actually thinking something completely different.
I was thinking, “I always said that hands [that you force from scratch] don’t win.
After making the effort to build this hand up, if I can’t win it, it’s going to feel even worse.”
Then I felt something that I never had before.
It was strange, I got this overwhelming feeling of, “I want to win this hand,” which led to, “I’m not going to come close and lose it.”
After a few more discards, I was enveloped in a sound of spectators I’d never heard before.
I still don’t know what forces it was that allowed me to complete this hand.
And then the only thing that I could think of was, “It’s my first limit hand (yakuman) ever since I started league.
After the game ended I was also surprised to see the results from the other table.
I had just managed to overcome my difference with Migita and Ishiwata didn’t beat me.
I came back to the spot I was in before. I finally earned my ticket to sit with the best player.
After it was over Moriyama gave me a light sock in the head. I’ve never told anyone that at that moment my tear ducts gave out and I ran away to the bathroom.
There is no doubt that was the day that I turned into one of the winners. But I’ve already experience that as that happiness grows the potential damage in the next battle also grows.
I swore to myself that this time I would only let that satisfaction last for 1 day.
Coming up: Phoenix Cup Day 1 – Going Crazy
Written by: Naoki Setokuma
Translated published by ReachMahjong.com with permission from the Japan Professional Mahjong League. May not be reproduced in any way without written consent from both JPML and ReachMahjong.com.
Original Japanese column can be seen on the JPML website.
