Teleprompting for Shohei Ohtani:

A Day to Remember at Sony Studios

By Patty Mooney

When you work in video production as long as I have, you get used to unusual assignments. But some stand out—sharp, gleaming memories you can pluck from the tree of your career with a grin. One of those days came when I was called to teleprompt for Shohei Ohtani at the Sony Studios in San Diego.

Shohei Ohtani. Baseball phenomenon. Two-way superstar. By then, he’d become a household name around the world, and Sony had chosen him to grace the cover of MLB The Show 22 MVP Edition. They needed a prompter operator, and somehow, that pro turned out to be me.

There was one twist: the script was entirely in Japanese.

Now, I don’t speak Japanese—at least not beyond the very basic “arigato” and “konnichiwa”—but I do speak intuition, a language every good teleprompter operator knows. So I agreed, packed up my gear, and headed to the studio with the mindset that if Shohei could pitch 100-mile-an-hour fastballs and hit home runs in the same game, I could scroll a script I didn’t understand.

When I arrived, the studio buzzed with quiet anticipation. Sony’s crew was polished and professional, respectful of the moment and of their guest. Shohei entered the room with a calm presence, towering and modest at once. He gave a polite bow, and although he spoke little English, the warmth and gratitude in his smile needed no translation.

My job was simple, on paper: scroll the Japanese script smoothly so Shohei could read it naturally on camera. In reality, it was a dance—one where he would lead and I would follow, carefully attuned to his rhythm, pauses, and breaths.

I watched his eyes, his body language, the musical rise and fall of his voice. I scrolled the words with feather-light touch, using instinct rather than intellect to pace him. If he hesitated or needed a beat, I paused. If he gathered speed, so did I. It was almost like playing an instrument I’d never held before, trusting the melody to guide my hands.

Shohei was gracious throughout. A consummate professional. Between takes, he would offer a slight nod or a murmured “Hai,” acknowledging our invisible partnership. The shoot moved smoothly, the room at ease, and by the end, everyone could feel it—we’d captured something special.

That day reminded me of a fundamental truth about production work: when language fails, intuition speaks. You don’t have to understand every word to understand a moment. You just have to listen.

Later, when MLB The Show 22 launched with Shohei’s face beaming from the MVP Edition cover, I smiled a private smile. There he was: poised, powerful, and speaking to millions. And somewhere, woven into that perfect delivery, was a little bit of my quiet, invisible handiwork, too.

What a wonder it’s been to watch him soar in his stellar career.  Keep on going, Shohei!