I remember the first time I heard someone say "soccer is life," and it struck me as more than just a catchy phrase. Having followed football across continents and witnessed everything from local Sunday leagues to international tournaments, I've come to understand that this statement captures something fundamental about why this sport resonates so deeply with millions. The passion runs particularly strong here in Japan, where the B.League has been steadily building its own unique football culture that mirrors the global obsession with the beautiful game. Just look at the West Division lineup for the upcoming season - last year's runner-up Ryukyu Golden Kings, Fighting Eagles Nagoya, Hiroshima Dragonflies, Kyoto Hannaryz, Nagasaki Velca, Nagoya Diamond Dolphins, Osaka Evessa, Saga Ballooners, San-en NeoPhoenix, SeaHorses Mikawa, Shiga Lakes, Shimane Susanoo Magic, and the newly-promoted Toyama Grouses. That's thirteen teams battling it out, each representing cities and prefectures where football isn't just entertainment but woven into the very fabric of community identity.

What fascinates me about Japanese basketball's growth is how it reflects the same tribal passion we see in global football culture. When I attended my first Ryukyu Golden Kings game in Okinawa last season, the atmosphere in the arena felt remarkably similar to what I've experienced at Premier League matches - the same raw emotion, the same collective groans and cheers, the same sense that for those ninety minutes, nothing else in the world mattered. The Golden Kings, having come so close last season with their runner-up finish, now carry the hopes of an entire region, much like a football club fighting for promotion or battling relegation. And let's be honest, there's something special about following a team's journey through highs and lows - it's why we keep coming back season after season, whether they're sitting pretty at the top or struggling near the bottom.

The newly-promoted Toyama Grouses remind me of those plucky underdog stories we cherish in football - think Leicester City's miraculous Premier League title win back in 2016. Their promotion to the West Division represents hope and new beginnings, not just for the players and coaching staff, but for their entire fanbase. I've followed promotion battles across different sports for years, and there's a unique magic to that first season in a higher division - the testing yourself against established powers, the proving you belong, the shocking upsets that become legendary stories told for generations. The Grouses will likely face challenges - the jump in quality is always steeper than people anticipate - but that struggle itself becomes part of their identity, part of what makes their fans' support so meaningful.

Regional rivalries in the B.League's West Division create the same intense derby atmospheres we see in football. When Nagoya's two teams - the Fighting Eagles and Diamond Dolphins - face off, the city divides in ways that remind me of Manchester derbies or the eternal Barcelona-Real Madrid clashes. Having experienced both the Mikawa and Shiga home courts on different occasions, I can confirm the passion matches anything I've seen in football stadiums abroad. The SeaHorses Mikawa fans particularly stand out in my memory - their coordinated chants and unwavering support through tight games demonstrated that basketball in Japan has evolved beyond mere spectacle into something people genuinely live and breathe.

The league's expansion to include teams like Saga Ballooners and Nagasaki Velca in recent years shows strategic thinking similar to football's growth models - building regional representation to deepen the sport's roots across the country. From what I've gathered through following the league's development, the B.League has expanded from 18 teams in its inaugural 2016-17 season to 22 teams by 2021, and now maintains 22 teams across two divisions with this current West Division lineup representing one of the most competitive groupings in recent memory. This careful expansion creates more local derbies, more travel stories, more reasons for fans to engage beyond just their home team - much like how football fans might follow multiple leagues simultaneously.

What continues to surprise me is how quickly these basketball teams have developed distinct identities and traditions that feel as established as those of century-old football clubs. The Shimane Susanoo Magic's fan rituals, the Kyoto Hannaryz's community engagement, the Osaka Evessa's relentless style - each has cultivated something special that transcends the game itself. I find myself drawn to certain teams not just for their playing style but for their stories, their connection to place, their particular way of existing in the league. It's the same irrational attachment that makes people support a football team from a city they've never visited - we find pieces of ourselves in these clubs, in their struggles and triumphs.

As the new season approaches, I can't help but feel that familiar anticipation building - the same feeling I get before major football tournaments. The West Division promises particularly compelling narratives: Can Ryukyu Golden Kings go one step further after last season's near-miss? How will Toyama Grouses adapt to the higher level? Which of the established teams will emerge as dark horses? These questions matter because the answers become part of our shared experience as fans. The stadiums may be different, the ball might be bigger, but the essential truth remains the same - for those who truly care, this isn't just sport, it's life itself, played out through forty-minute contests that somehow come to mean everything.