Can J.League Players Become Idols? A Business Model Beyond Wins and Losses

The J.League, Japan's professional soccer league, publishes attendance and other figures on its official data site. Look beyond the totals to how the numbers change by club and by match, and you begin to see the need to widen the entrance for the groups that haven't yet been drawn to a game.

To win new fans, an entrance that shows who to cheer for works better than explaining the rules in detail from the start. Show a player's expression, his play, his personality and his ties to the region, and people can get into the team through a single person.

Beyond the total size of the fan population, look at what prompted a first visit and where people hesitated before watching, and you can see who the information isn't reaching. Data shouldn't be used to boast about popularity. Turn it into questions for improving the next entrance: Is choosing a seat hard? Are people anxious about getting home after the match?

A first-time viewer doesn't have to understand the league table before cheering. One thing they want to check out again is enough: a player who caught their eye, the color of the jersey, the hometown, the atmosphere of the stadium. A club can welcome that light interest and offer guidance that lets people choose more detail step by step.

Players sharing everyday life and short videos themselves can be an entrance that carries their personality even to people who don't usually follow match results. Don't judge by follower counts alone; look at whether the posts lead to official schedules and club information.

If a player's video can guide people to the match calendar, the stadium, and local shops, "I want to see this person" turns into "I want to know this club and this town." The path shouldn't set an individual's popularity against the value of the venue itself.

For fans, it helps to separate the familiarity you feel in a short video from the role a player carries in official matches. If an everyday expression sparks your interest, move on to the club's official player profile, his next expected appearance and the highlights of his play. Don't stop at personality alone, and you'll come to understand the player on good days and hard days alike.

Clubs shouldn't leave everything to individual players; they need to help with the burden of filming, rights issues and responses to slander. Rather than tying tickets directly to every post, they can show several possible next steps, such as learning more, watching a match or going to the venue, so people who haven't yet decided to attend can come closer at their own pace.

Write off the people who haven't come as "uninterested," and advertising is the only remedy left. In reality, a considerable number of them simply don't know how to get there.

The difference matters, because the cost of measures that create interest and measures that remove obstacles is entirely different.

In 2023, the J.League's 30th anniversary season, the Love Live! anime series teamed up with all 18 clubs in J1, the top division. It doesn't push the sport onto anime fans; it creates a reason to visit that starts from an oshi's artwork and voice.

Projects like photo-book-style player features or cheki-style cards (instant photos) are also a way into the sport through personality. But rather than hiding skill or a team's history, they need to line up several ways of enjoying the game at the same entrance.

Visitors who come for the collaboration shouldn't be expected to know chants or tactics from the start. Put the pickup points, the places where photos are allowed and the viewing manners during the match into a single guide, and create the moment when eyes move from the event to the pitch. Fans, too, can open up a next entrance by taking home one memorable player or play instead of stopping at the limited item.

The stadium has grown from a place to watch matches into a place to take photos, pick out limited goods and spend time with friends. Whether people come back depends on guidance that keeps first-timers from getting lost, a choice of seats, and the experience before and after the match.

When a club teams up with shopping streets, schools, local governments and transit, the team becomes the town's oshi. Cheering spreads into shopping and community exchanges, and there are reasons to return to the club beyond wins and losses.

First-time visitors want more than the information devoted supporters look for. If they can find a seat where they can watch calmly, a place that's easy to spend time with children, what to bring on a rainy day and shops to stop by before and after the match, they can picture their own day. If the community also shares not just whether there are discounts but how to welcome someone who has come for the first time, the experience stays the same outside the stadium too.

Transfers and retirements are unavoidable. That's why it matters to use an individual as the entrance while naturally guiding people toward the club, friends, the town and its history, leaving a place to come back to even if your oshi changes teams.

A collaboration doesn't end with announcements and limited items. It becomes true mutual referral only when it connects to tickets, the visit itself, posts after the match, and the path to the next match. A design that turns one visit into a habit is what's needed.

The key to spreading the J.League as oshi-katsu is that people can layer their relationships with players, friends and the town on top of wins and losses. Deliver next-matchday information without gaps, and give people places to touch official broadcasts and local topics even in weeks they can't go, and we stop equating how often someone attends with how strongly they cheer.

What a club should leave behind is not a mechanism that makes people forget a transferred player, but the memories of the matches, friends and town they discovered through that player. If fans can cheer for a player's new team while staying connected to the original club, their feelings aren't forced into an either-or. For the club, too, knowing who was the entrance helps shape the next communication.

During the match, too, don't settle on a single way of cheering. If people who shout, people who focus on the play and people spending time with children can each choose a place that suits them, differences in enthusiasm add depth to the stadium instead of becoming grounds for exclusion.

After the match, ask not only "Did you enjoy it?" but also where people hesitated, what they want to know next and why they hesitate to return. Feed those voices back into guidance, seating, transit and communication, and a one-time push for attendance becomes lasting improvement for the club. Delivering results and town news even to people who can't make the next matchday keeps up a relationship that attendance counts alone can't measure.

A first-visit initiative can't be judged by attendance on the day alone. Check whether visitors got lost in the guidance, whether interest moved from the collaboration to the match, and whether they came back for the next matchday or local information, and you can tell whether the entrance led to a habit of cheering. The important thing is to improve it as one person's viewing experience, without treating a player's popularity, a club's operations and the town's welcome as separate results.