When he awoke a short time later, Manuel discovered he was no longer alone. About 40 Japanese women had arrived for their postwork baths. No one in the room was wearing a stitch of clothing. “It was almost like I was dreaming,” he says. He quickly realized he wasn’t. The women, most of whom hadn’t seen an American up close, were intrigued—especially by the hair on his arms, which they insisted on touching. After they left, Repoz and Luigi returned to take Manuel back to his room, where Ol’ Cholly’s first day in Japan finally came to an end.

Sports Illustrated writer Mark Bechtel has a lively profile of Phillies manager Charlie Manuel in the June 22 issue of the magazine. It’s a great read, but I  have to wonder if there would be as much tacit approval of Charlie’s down-home, shit-kicking ways if he had cornrows and tats.