His full name is Ichiro Suzuki, but he goes by only one name, just like Zamfir. And that one name may be a bigger name in baseball than Rawlings this season.

	Ichiro Suzuki begins this season as the Mariners' leadoff hitter.

After winning seven consecutive batting titles in Japan's Pacific League, after becoming that country's version of Michael Jordan and Elvis, Ichiro will become the first Japanese position player in the majors (along with the Mets' Tsoyoshi Shinjo). The Mariners have given credentials to 166 Japanese journalists this spring, with requests from 75 to follow Ichiro 24-7 during the season. All Mariners home games and many road games will be televised to Japan.

This is what it would have been like had Princess Di played baseball. The photographers shoot Ichiro playing in games. They shoot Ichiro taking batting practice. They shoot Ichiro standing around doing absolutely nothing.

"I'll tell you what," Seattle manager Lou Piniella said. "I'd like to have the Fuji film concession here."

As you might imagine, one person does not provide a lot of fodder for more than 100 reporters (at least, not unless Monica Lewinsky is involved). Yet the correspondents must file reports on Ichiro everyday, whether or not he plays, whether or not he does anything noteworthy. It must be the most challenging job in baseball next to being Gary Sheffield's spin doctor.

No wonder they chart Ichiro's batting practices, noting where and how far he hits each ball. Seattle coach John McLaren says a reporter came up to him after an informal workout in January and asked, "Yesterday, Ichiro swung 214 times in batting practice. Today, he swung only 196 times. What is the problem?"

Well, it isn't easy starting a new job. Especially when Ichiro must learn a new (and evolving) strike zone. When he must learn the American pitching style. When he must learn the pitchers from 13 American League opponents plus five National League opponents after playing in the six-team Pacific League. When he must adjust his swing, removing a high right leg kick. When he must learn all this even though none of his coaches and only one of his teammates speak his language.

	“	In Japan, it was tough to play to the expectations everyone had ... I don't want to be swayed by how the fans feel and how they expect me to play. Real fans, good fans, are looking for me to play well. ”
		— Ichiro Suzuki, Seattle outfiedler

When he must learn all this while every baseball fan in Japan is depending on him to bring honor to their country.

"In Japan, it was tough to play to the expectations everyone had," said Ichiro, who is stylishly unshaven and is rarely without his sunglasses. "One of the reasons I came over here is I wanted to find baseball was a fun sport. I don't want to be swayed by how the fans feel and how they expect me to play. Real fans, good fans, are looking for me to play well."

Ichiro has a slight build -- 5-foot-9, 160 pounds -- and his lack of power in spring training is a concern. Until homering to right Tuesday, he had yet to drive the ball with authority. Tony Gwynn says he likes Ichiro's hand movement but thinks he moves his feet too much. A left-handed hitter, he mostly slaps the ball to the left side with an occasional grounder to the right side. He's made Rod Carew look like Sammy Sosa.

On the other hand, the home run was a good sign, he makes excellent contact, striking out just twice in his first 41 at-bats (Kerry Wood struck him out the first time two weeks ago on pure smoke followed by a knee-buckling changeup).

He also is quicker on the basepaths than David Wells is through the postgame spread, so quick that teams adjust their defenses to limit his infield singles and so quick that any ball past the infield is a possible double. There may be no batter in the league who goes from home to first as fast as Ichiro.

He has a powerful and accurate arm and is a good fielder.

And he's an intelligent player prepared to adapt. The Mets' Japanese scout, Isao O'Jimi, thinks Ichiro needs a season to adjust to the majors but that he can eventually hit as high as .330 with 50 stolen bases.

I hope so. A little Ichiro-mania would be good for baseball on both sides of the Pacific and likely lead to even more Japanese players coming here. According to my own informal estimates, five additional Japanese players here would boost major league attendance by five percent and leave Japan with 14 reporters, two photographers and an overworked copy editor to cover any news back there.

In the meantime, Ichiro prepares for this season, handling the pressure and the media tsunami as best he can. He is learning English quickly (though he does interviews through a translator). To keep the situation manageable, he requests that the Japanese media not follow him into the clubhouse, and some days he declines to speak with U.S. reporters. The system works fairly well, except for the occasional visiting writer who shows up on the days Ichiro isn't talking.

But then again, the man can only do so much. As his former teammate, Anaheim pitcher Shigetoshi Hasegawa, says, "You can't talk to Madonna, either, can you?"

Jim Caple of Seattle Post-Intelligencer is a regular contributor to ESPN.com.