日本職棒（NPB）並非「完全沒有啦啦隊」。多數球團其實都有舞蹈應援團與吉祥物，只是舞台位置、鏡頭語言與整體氣氛由「應援團／樂隊（oendan）」主導——看台領唱戰歌、打拍子、整場節奏都圍繞比賽展開；舞團多在中場或局間表演，存在感相對內斂，避免分散對場上攻守的專注。反觀台灣中職（CPBL），啦啦隊會長時間站上本壘側或一壘側看台帶動，攝影機也頻繁切到應援與個別成員的特寫，於是「球賽 × 舞台秀」成台灣觀賽體驗的一部分，兩者差異其實是文化與現場設計的路線選擇，而非有無之分。

台灣為何形成「啦啦隊明星化」？關鍵在於產業策略與媒體環境的疊加。中職歷經起落後，球團普遍把「比賽本身＋現場娛樂＋社群擴散」當成三位一體的商品。球隊打造自家品牌的女性應援團，包裝成偶像式的團體與個人 IP，推出單曲、寫真、週邊、見面會，再把球場變成能即時產生短影音素材的舞台：固定口號、整齊編舞、洗腦應援曲，從轉播到球迷直拍都利於在Reels／TikTok上病毒擴散。對許多年輕觀眾與家庭客層而言，這是一張「一次滿足」的票：既能看球，也像看一場演出，降低「棒球門檻」帶來的距離感，進而擴大球場人口。

那麼，為什麼韓國啦啦隊來台會引爆狂熱？一方面，韓國職棒與籃球的啦啦隊生態成熟，訓練體系、編舞美學與舞台掌控力深受K-POP工業影響，呈現更強烈的視覺記憶點；另一方面，韓國本土市場競爭者多、供給大，個別成員在當地未必能脫穎而出。來到台灣後，語言與文化的新鮮感、跨國話題性、媒體高度關注，加上台灣球團的整體包裝與商演、代言、通告機會，會把她們迅速推上「主咖」位置，帶來名氣與收入的同時，也回饋球團以票房與社群熱度。從商業邏輯看，這是典型的「內容升級」：用相對可控的成本，換取更高的上座率、贊助好感與 IP 的延展性。

至於有人將現象歸咎為「癡漢太多」——這種說法既不公平，也忽略真正的驅動因素。任何大型娛樂場域都必須嚴防騷擾與不當拍攝，這是球團與場館應持續強化的基本功：明確的場規、巡場動線、舉報機制與黑名單制度，都是保護表演者與觀眾的必要條件。但把整體熱度簡化為「騷擾心理」既不符合多數觀眾的動機，也無法解釋為何家庭客、女性球迷與學生族群同樣踴躍入場——真正的核心還是在於：球團把「現場娛樂」做成了可被分享、可被追星、可被帶入日常的內容生態，並與本地網紅文化、短影音平台與品牌行銷形成正迴圈。

日本與台灣模式的差別，也不在於誰比較「純粹」，而是棒球如何與流行文化連結的策略選擇。日本保留由應援團主節奏的傳統，把注意力更緊密地綁在戰術與攻防；台灣則把球賽與舞台演出整合，透過「偶像化的啦啦隊＋高互動的應援曲」降低入門門檻，讓更多人願意第一次走進球場。韓國的專業輸出，則為台灣這套內容機制提供更高的表演品質與話題濃度。

當然，明星化也會帶來風險：鏡頭語言若過度偏向啦啦隊，容易引發「喧賓奪主」與性別凝視的爭議；球隊若把資源過度壓在單一成員，也可能造成戰績不佳時的公關反噬。更健康、可持續的做法，是把啦啦隊當作「入口與橋梁」：吸引新觀眾入場，再用優質比賽、在地社群、青訓故事與球員個人品牌把人留住；同時維持清楚的職場保障與反騷擾規範，讓表演者的職涯是專業與尊重並行，而非只靠流量起落。

總結來說，台灣啦啦隊的爆紅，來自內容工業、社群媒體與球團行銷的同時發力，加上韓國表演者輸出的專業與話題放大。這是一套商業與文化策略的結果，而不是單純由「不當觀眾心態」驅動的現象。日本、韓國、台灣分別代表了三種不同的棒球觀演路線：傳統應援主導、工業化舞台美學、以及兩者融合的在地化版本——沒有對錯，只有各自的受眾與市場選擇。

Nippon Professional Baseball (NPB) does not mean “there are no cheerleaders at all.” In fact, most teams do have dance troupes and mascots, but the overall atmosphere, stage placement, and broadcast language are dominated by the ōendan (support bands/fan groups). They lead chants, songs, and rhythms throughout the game, keeping the focus tightly on what’s happening on the field. Dance squads usually appear during halftime or between innings, with a relatively restrained presence to avoid distracting from the play itself. By contrast, in Taiwan’s CPBL, cheerleaders are positioned for extended periods near home plate or along the first base stands, actively engaging with the crowd. Cameras frequently cut to the cheer squads or highlight individual members, blending the game with a stage performance. In Taiwan, this creates an integrated “baseball × live show” spectator experience. The difference is less about whether cheerleaders exist and more about cultural and production choices in live-event design.

Why has Taiwan developed “cheerleader stardom”? The key lies in overlapping industry strategy and media ecosystems. After going through ups and downs, CPBL teams generally frame baseball as a three-in-one product: the game itself + live entertainment + viral social media content. Each team builds its own branded female cheer squad, packaged as idol-like groups or individual IPs, releasing singles, photo books, merchandise, and hosting fan meetings. Ballparks are deliberately staged to generate instant short-video material: choreographed chants, catchy routines, and uniform callouts that lend themselves perfectly to TikTok/Reels virality. For younger audiences and families, a ticket becomes “all-in-one”: a sports event plus a concert-like performance, which lowers baseball’s entry barrier and expands stadium demographics.

So why do Korean cheerleaders create such a frenzy when they come to Taiwan? On one hand, KBO and Korean basketball have mature cheerleading systems shaped by K-pop aesthetics, with advanced choreography, training, and stagecraft that deliver sharper visual impact. On the other hand, because Korea’s local market is saturated and competitive, many individual cheerleaders cannot easily stand out at home. In Taiwan, however, the novelty of language and culture, cross-border buzz, intense media coverage, and the commercial packaging of Taiwanese teams all elevate them rapidly to headline status. With added opportunities for endorsements, appearances, and sponsorships, they gain fame and income while boosting ticket sales and online engagement for the hosting teams. From a business perspective, this is a textbook case of content upgrading: investing manageable costs to generate higher attendance, stronger sponsorship value, and extended brand IP.

Some critics reduce this phenomenon to “too many creeps.” But this view is both unfair and dismissive of the real driving forces. Like any large entertainment venue, teams and stadiums must actively prevent harassment and unauthorized filming, through clear rules, security patrols, reporting channels, and blacklists. These safeguards protect both performers and spectators. To claim the popularity stems only from “voyeuristic psychology” ignores the fact that families, women, and student groups are also core participants. The real driver is that teams have crafted a shareable, followable, fan-centric ecosystem of live entertainment, tied into influencer culture, short-video platforms, and brand marketing.

The difference between Japan and Taiwan is not about purity, but about strategy: how baseball connects to popular culture. Japan preserves the ōendan-led tradition, binding fan energy directly to the game’s tactical flow. Taiwan integrates games with stage shows, using idol-like cheerleaders and interactive chants to lower barriers for new fans. Korea exports its professionalized cheerleading industry, enhancing Taiwan’s model with performance quality and amplified buzz.

Of course, star-making brings risks: if broadcasts focus too heavily on cheerleaders, issues of gendered gaze and overshadowing the sport can arise; if teams put too much weight on one cheerleader’s popularity, poor on-field performance may spark PR backlash. A healthier, sustainable approach is to position cheerleaders as an entry point and bridge: attracting newcomers to the stadium, then retaining them with high-quality baseball, local community ties, youth development stories, and player branding. Meanwhile, ensuring professional safeguards and anti-harassment policies allows performers’ careers to be built on both respect and visibility, rather than just viral attention.

In short, the cheerleader boom in Taiwan is the product of industrial strategy, social media, and team marketing working in tandem—further amplified by Korean talent and the buzz they generate. It is not simply driven by inappropriate fan psychology. Japan, Korea, and Taiwan each represent distinct models of baseball culture: traditional support-band dominance, industrialized stage aesthetics, and a localized fusion of the two. None is “right or wrong”—they are simply tailored to their own audiences and markets.