Written by Fang-Chang Kuo.
Image credit: Fubon Angels / Facebook.
The Sideline Sensation
In baseball’s traditional script, the action unfolds between the pitcher’s mound and the batter’s box. But step into a modern Chinese Professional Baseball League (CPBL) stadium, and that familiar geometry no longer holds. Long before the first pitch, the crowd’s attention has already drifted toward the dugout roof, where choreographed dance routines, high-octane fan engagement, and celebrity cheerleaders command the spotlight. The “softer” elements of the game are no longer peripheral. Instead, they have become part of the main event.
This cultural pivot reached a point of no return in March 2023. The recruitment of South Korean cheerleader Lee Da-Hye by the Rakuten Monkeys was more than a clever marketing move; it was a profound exogenous shock to the league’s ecosystem. From an economist’s perspective, the “Lee Da-Hye moment” marked the beginning of a new era in which entertainment-driven strategies are no longer mere complements to the sporting product, but powerful demand shifters capable of generating measurable economic impact and driving top-line growth in Taiwanese professional sports.
The 13% Surge: When a Cheerleader Outshines a Superstar
In the business of sports, the “superstar effect” has long been the gold standard of market appeal. Taiwan witnessed it in 2013, when Manny Ramirez’s brief stint with the EDA Rhinos triggered a league-wide attendance surge. Globally, the phenomenon is exemplified by the “Ohtani effect,” with recent estimates suggesting that Shohei Ohtani can boost attendance by roughly 12% to 13%.
What made the 2023 CPBL season so remarkable is a striking irony: Lee Da-Hye’s presence on average generated an attendance increase of nearly the same magnitude: close to 13%. From a business perspective, the implications are substantial. Acquiring an MLB legend or a global superstar like Ohtani requires enormous financial commitments, including salaries, bonuses, and long-term contractual risk. A high-profile entertainment figure, by contrast, may generate similar market traction at only a fraction of that cost. In other words, the return on investment from entertainment-driven demand may rival, or in some cases outperform, traditional player acquisitions.
The Math of the “Korean Wave”: 4% Per Performer
If Lee Da-Hye’s arrival in 2023 was the proof of concept, the league’s response was immediate.
What began as a single high-profile signing quickly evolved into an arms race. CPBL clubs, recognising the commercial potential of entertainment-driven demand, began aggressively recruiting Korean cheerleaders in what local media dubbed a new “Korean Wave.” What might initially have looked like imitation or short-term hype soon became a measurable league-wide strategy.
The data suggest this was not irrational exuberance. Our empirical findings published in Applied Economics show that each additional foreign cheerleader was associated with an average attendance increase of roughly 4%. In other words, Lee Da-Hye was not merely an outlier; she revealed a scalable business model.
But this phenomenon is about far more than cheerleading. What teams are effectively importing is not simply performance talent, but a new form of marketing capital. Modern cheer squads in Taiwan have evolved far beyond their traditional supporting role. They increasingly resemble vertically integrated talent agencies embedded within the club ecosystem, including producing content, cultivating personal brands, driving social media engagement, and converting digital attention into stadium traffic. These entertainers function as influential intermediaries between the on-field product and the increasingly fragmented modern consumer.
As a result, the competitive landscape of the CPBL is no longer defined solely by player rosters, payrolls, or win-loss records. It is increasingly shaped by the strength of each club’s entertainment ecosystem.
The novelty effect: why hype has a shelf life
Of course, no entertainment shock lasts forever.
In sports economics, researchers often talk about the novelty effect, the temporary surge in demand created by something new, whether it is a newly opened stadium, a star player’s debut, or a major rule change. The CPBL’s foreign cheerleader boom fits this pattern remarkably well.
Lee Da-Hye’s arrival in 2023 was a genuine shock to the market. But once every team began importing Korean cheerleaders, scarcity disappeared. What was once surprising became expected.
The numbers tell a clear story.
- 2023: Lee Da-Hye’s sole presence generated an attendance boost of nearly 13%
- 2024: each additional foreign cheerleader was associated with roughly a 7.3% increase
- 2025: the effect had fallen to just 1.5%, statistically insignificant for most teams
This is classic diminishing returns. When novelty becomes commonplace, its economic value is inevitably recalibrated. By 2025, simply placing a foreign cheerleader on the dugout roof was no longer enough to meaningfully shift consumer demand.
But that was not the end of the story.
Why Fubon kept winning
While the novelty effect faded across much of the league, one team stood out: the Fubon Guardians.
The key difference was execution.
Many teams treated foreign cheerleaders as interchangeable promotional assets: add one more popular face, generate some buzz, and hope attendance follows. Fubon pursued a different strategy. Rather than treating cheerleaders as an add-on, the club integrated them into the heart of its brand identity.
By 2026, the Guardians’ so-called “Fubon Five Pillars” had evolved into a cultural phenomenon. This was not simply a story of talent acquisition, but of sophisticated branding and packaging. Several of the league’s most commercially valuable cheerleaders had amassed celebrity-level social media followings, with some surpassing one million Instagram followers—numbers more commonly associated with movie stars, pop idols, or digital influencers than sports entertainers. Fubon understood that these performers were not merely cheerleaders; they were marketable personalities with standalone brand equity.
The distinction matters. When novelty fades, sustainable success depends not merely on access to talent, but on how effectively that talent is transformed into a coherent entertainment brand. In that sense, Fubon’s advantage was not simply having star cheerleaders—it was knowing how to market them like stars.
So, what are we watching?
The transformation of the CPBL raises a broader question about the future of professional sports.
For decades, the economic logic of sports was straightforward: better players, stronger teams, more fans. But the CPBL suggests a more complicated reality. Modern sports consumers may be purchasing something larger than the game itself: an entertainment package that blends athletic competition, celebrity culture, social media engagement, and live spectacle.
This is not necessarily a bad thing. In fact, the shift has helped expand the league’s visibility, attract new audiences, and strengthen commercial sustainability.
But it does force us to rethink what drives demand.
If a non-playing entertainer can generate attendance effects comparable to a global superstar athlete, then the boundaries between sports, entertainment, and influencer culture are becoming increasingly blurred.
And that leaves us with an uncomfortable but fascinating question: when we walk into a ballpark today, are we still there to watch baseball—or to consume a broader entertainment spectacle built around it?
Fang-Chang Kuo is an Associate Professor in the Department of Economics at National Chung Cheng University, Taiwan. He received his PhD in Economics from the University of Texas at Austin. His research focuses on empirical industrial organisation, applied econometrics, and housing markets, with broader interests in consumer behaviour, information disclosure, the automobile industry, tourism, and sports economics. His work has been published in journals including the International Journal of Industrial Organisation, the B.E. Journal of Economic Analysis & Policy, and Applied Economics.
This article was published as part of the special issue on ‘More Than a Game: Baseball and Taiwan’s Past, Present and Future’.