I feel like I missed the boat on the Beyblade fandom by only a few years. The Takara Tomy spinning top toys first made a splash after I’d finished high school. It was the latest in a rich history of anime being used to spruik playground toys.
For the uninitiated, Beyblades are boisterously decorated spinning tops comprised of several parts. The tops are loaded onto handheld zip launchers and fired at each other in an enclosed arena. The tops knock each other around, circling each other and shaving off their momentum in clashes that mimic boxers throwing punches.
The top that retains the most momentum and topples its opponent is declared the winner. Bouts are short, fast, explosive affairs, promoting repeat matches and a one-more-go moreishness. But, like I said, it passed me by.
When Hasbro’s Australian arm asked if I’d like to visit Japan to learn more about the 2024 version of the product, I couldn’t understand why on earth they thought of me for the pitch. I do now, though. When one imagines a building where people dream up toys, the mind conjures up a kind of workplace wonderland.
A place of endless amusement, where creative minds are allowed full and free expression in the name of child-like whimsy. Takara Tomy’s Tokyo head office is a boxy, unremarkable building in Tateishi, the heart of the Katsushika City special ward. There was no way to know that the building before me was the headquarters of a major toy company, a foundry of joy.
Inside, it was a picture .
