For Japan, this was a break from its own victimhood.

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TOKYO —

For Japan, this was a break from its own victimhood. Because of its women’s soccer team, thousands packed bars here during vampire hours. They chanted their country’s name. They chewed on towels and covered their eyes. Finally, they went wild with joy.

Japan’s penalty shootout victory over the United States on Sunday didn’t rekindle Japan’s national pride — even in mourning, that never ebbed. But it reminded this recovering country why that pride existed in the first place.

Until the earthquake, tsunami and nuclear meltdown of four months ago, Japan was a country known foremost for its dignity and high achievement.

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Its trains ran faster, its food tasted better, its athletes trained harder.

Japan managed to build an elite women’s soccer team despite scant girls’ participation nationwide. It did so with hard work — identifying elite players early, then making them practice more than 2 ½ hours daily over 10 years.

The Nadeshiko had finished in fourth place at the 2008 Olympics in Beijing, but the team’s run to the finals this time caught many by surprise.

Only about 25,000 girls and women play soccer in Japan — indicative of a country that, critics say, does too little to nurture its female talent. At least in soccer, though, Japan has found a way to capitalize on the talent that enters the system. Each of Japan’s 47 prefectures has a well-organized training academy. National team coaches attend tournaments of girls as young as 12. Those who excel receive relentless coaching.

Many fans here didn’t know of the Women’s World Cup — or of the Japanese women’s team’s abilities — until days ago, after a quarterfinal upset of Germany.

Then Japan embraced its Nadeshiko, as the women’s team is known.

Its romp to the finals turned into front-page news. The prime minister talked about it.

The match against the United States began at 3:45 a.m. local time, but at one Tokyo sports bar, 20- and 30-somethings were packed in elbow to elbow, arriving early enough to sing the country’s national anthem.

“The Japanese people,” said Toshihiro Higaki, 26, “needed something they can be proud of.”

Much as television broadcasters talked about the soccer team’s ability to inspire the country, the opposite was also true: The country inspired the soccer team.

In a pep talk before the team’s semifinal game, coach Norio Sasaki told his players to think about the disaster victims from the March 11 earthquake and tsunami.

Sasaki showed photos of devastated towns along Japan’s northeastern coast that were washed away by the tsunami.

The players knew that each goal, each victory — over such soccer powerhouses as Sweden, Germany and, finally, the United States, which it had not defeated in 25 previous contests — would give people back home in Japan more hope, a dash more courage.

A breathless team captain Homare Sawa in a way spoke for her country’s response to the earthquake and tsunami that left more than 25,000 dead or missing.

“We ran and we ran,” said Sawa, who scored the goal that tied the score at 2-2 and was the tournament’s top scorer with five goals. “We were exhausted, but we kept running.”

Along with the superstars, there also were the players who served as emotional reminders of the national rebuilding task that remains back home: Team member Aya Sameshima worked at the Fukushima Daiichi nuclear-power plant that was crippled by the towering tsunami.

In 2009, the team held a training camp at the J-Village athletic complex in Fukushima, now a staging site for nuclear workers at the hobbled nuclear plant.

Several players had been members of the power-plant utility company’s Mareeze women’s club, a now-defunct member of the Japanese pro league. When the match began, Japanese supporters tried to temper their expectations. Nadeshiko’s starters had an average height of 5-foot-4 — a distinct size disadvantage. In 25 matches against the United States, Japan had never won. And early in this match, the United States controlled play, pelted shots at every part of the net but the backside, and Japanese bar patrons made noise mostly when anticipating something bad.

But that changed. That changed because Japan wouldn’t fade. Tokyo’s sports bars turned loud, all chanting and spilled beer. And after Japan had won in the penalty-kick shootout, Sawa was asked by a television reporter whether she had a message to send back home. “Thank you, everybody,” she said.

Asuka Fujiwara, 30, who had been standing in the sports bar for 2 ½ hours, held her hand to her heart. It was “the first uplifting national story in months,” she said.

At one sports bar in Ebisu, a small pocket of Americans rooted for the United States, but Japanese fans showed no animosity; indeed, the country’s militaries had cooperated in the aftermath of the disaster, and the tightened alliance translated even onto the soccer pitch. Japanese fans said they were rooting for their country, but they weren’t rooting against the United States.

At the Footnik sports bar in central Tokyo, people watched with hope and, to some extent, disbelief.

“The U.S. was so much stronger. I thought we had a good team, but I didn’t think there was any chance we would win.” said Tokyo resident Yuri Itoga, 36.

“When we won, I went crazy and hugged everyone I could,” she said. “This ecstatic feeling is a lot more intense because we suffered the disaster in March. It makes me feel like I can’t just sit around and do nothing.

“I’m on such a high right now I don’t think I can go to bed.”

Additional information from

Los Angeles Times

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