Surprised? This Classic Has October Feel

LOS ANGELES -- It's easy to mock the World Baseball Classic, to deride it as nothing but a money-making machine for MLB, a global monstrosity that has little to do with forwarding the game and everything to do with padding a few select wallets.

And then you plop down in section 106 Saturday night in Dodger Stadium and in one tremendous burst of an inning, all the negativity dissipates. Korea's Yong-Kyu Lee opens the WBC semifinal game with a walk off Venezuela pitcher Carlos Silva, a pitcher described in the Korean media as "a mighty, ferocious giant," and just like that, tremors start rocking the ballpark on the hill.

The people who aren't banging ThunderStix together are either tossing confetti in the air, or singing "Daehan Minguk," Korean for Republic of Korea. Keun-Woo Jeong, the next batter, hits a fly ball to right, a fly ball Bobby Abreu usually catches in his sleep (especially when that pesky Yankee Stadium wall doesn't get in the way), but this time the ball inextricably dribbles from Abreu's glove, and from then on, across 20 mind-boggling minutes, all the preconceived pessimism takes a hiatus.

It's not just that Korea, with only one major leaguer on the roster, soundly spanks Venezuela and its All-Stars, though Korea's 10-2 win is as remarkable as the first inning, which features 10 batters, five runs, bloop singles dropping like teardrops and errors the Venezuelans won't soon live down. Dodger Stadium never quite fills up -- attendance grew to 43,378 and should increase Sunday night, when the United States plays Japan in the other semifinal -- but on a sheer atmosphere level, the game feels like baseball in October.

Shocking, I know, considering the mass hysteria circling the WBC, at least in this dot on the planet. MLB teams mostly hate the tournament for daring to impose on Spring Training, and American fans have been widely ambivalent. Sometimes we Yanks need a gentle reminder that not everything is about us, and it was delivered quite nicely on this brisk evening in Chavez Ravine.

WBC officials keep pushing the truth that TV ratings for the event beyond our coasts have been off the charts, reaching Super Bowl levels in some Asian spots, but we can't see past the injuries and awful March timing. Unfortunately for those of us who enjoy the tournament and want to see it succeed, those will be the story lines rehashed Sunday night, when the WBC will finally draw eyeballs away from the NCAAs.

You can't ask for a finer pitching matchup, with Roy Oswalt, the Houston right-hander, facing Boston's Daisuke Matsuzaka. Team America expects to feel like visitors in Dodger Stadium, with a Japanese crowd that will equal the Korean's enthusiasm and arrive toting drums and horns and a great thirst for the game. The first time Japan bunts and tests Mark DeRosa at first base, expect a swoosh of "oohs" to lift the stadium. Knowing the Japanese, there could very well be a 10th time.

It wouldn't seem right if Team USA manager Davey Johnson had a smooth lead into a game, and the selection of DeRosa to start at first is only Johnson's latest headache. DeRosa is a fine utility player, but he has manned just 13 of his 785 games at first base over the course of 11 MLB seasons, and the Cleveland Indians, the team that pays his salary, would rather he not play there. Johnson hadn't much choice: Adam Dunn was at the position in the Americans' last game, moving without much grace and throwing widely off mark. Johnson and Dunn agree, he's better off in the outfield where the Japanese can't torture him with bunts and dribblers.

After working out at first base during Team USA's training session Saturday, DeRosa admitted, "I'm probably the least comfortable at that position because of time served over there," but he also noted that Dodger Stadium "has the best infield in the game," and figured his teammates "can hit me in the chest from across
the diamond.

"So we should be fine," said DeRosa, who is subbing for the injured Kevin Youkilis. That's the story of Johnson's March: everyone's hurt, and their big-league managers are not happy. David Wright's toe is the color of death, but he'll start at third base despite Mets manager Jerry Manuel's wishes that Wright be resting in Port St. Lucie. Ryan Braun and his strained right oblique muscle will be in left, Derek Jeter starts at shortstop and Johnson plans to use Jimmy Rollins as the designated hitter.


There isn't much reason for the American major leaguers to want to risk their bodies before Opening Day, except for this: They are having as much fun as the Korean and Japanese fans, and even though it might sound corny and trite, playing for their country inspires goosebumps. People who have been around Jeter for the last few days swear the look in his eyes is the same one he gets when the Yankees play the Red Sox, or when the Yankees reach October. Some poor Japanese reporter got a sampling of Jeter's steely side the other day, when he tried to prompt Jeter into revealing his emotions heading into a rematch with Japan, a team that, as Jeter surely recalled, lost to the US in the inaugural WBC three years ago.

Reporter: "For us Japanese people, we got stolen the win. Do you remember that? What was going through your mind at the time? Would you tell us your expectation this time around?"

Jeter, glib as ever: "I don't remember."

But of course he does, because Jeter has a microchip of baseball installed somewhere in his brain, a log of every single pitch no matter if he saw it as a Yankee or while wearing the Team USA logo. Starting Jeter at short in the semifinals against old friend Dice-K is another risky move for Johnson, a decision the manager might have made for sentimental reasons. Or maybe he figures the team will feed off Jeter's genuine love of playing for his country, a passion that cannot be questioned.

Johnson clearly wants to win Sunday and advance to Monday night's title game against Korea. He pushed back Jake Peavy in favor of Oswalt, who pitched four scoreless innings when the US avoided elimination by beating the Netherlands last week. Pitch counts get tossed aside in this Final Four. Oswalt could throw 95-100 pitches against a Japanese team that began practicing for this moment since the day after winning the WBC championship in 2006.

The Asian teams take the WBC oh-so-seriously, holding two-a-days and military-designed drill camps. Melvin Mora, a veteran of Pacific Rim baseball and third baseman for Venezuela, couldn't remind his Venezuelan teammates enough about Korea's unreal practice and prep sessions. They are serious contenders, Mora kept telling them, players who take "in excess of 1,500 swings on a daily basis," but after Saturday night you wonder if any of Mora's teammates bothered to listen.

"When I talk about this to my friends and my team, they said, 'Stop it, because I'm getting tired already!,' " Mora said before the Koreans abused the Venezuelans every which way.

Silva's horrific start was only the beginning, as Korea had far superior offensive power, pitching, situational hitting, defense and general all-around hunger. Painfully, the mercy rule is not in effect for the final round, though it was obvious after the first inning that Korean righty Suk-Min Yoon wasn't intimidated by a Venezuelan offense powered by major leaguers. Shin-Soo Choo and Tae-Kyun Kim both homered for Korea, Kim's coming on Silva's 40th pitch in the second inning to stretch the score to 7-0.

That was it for Silva, pulled after just 1 1/3 innings. He gave up seven runs (six earned) on six hits, then angrily threw his glove against the dugout wall and stomped into the clubhouse. The deluge that began with Abreu's error ended with the Venezuelans admitting to equal parts embarrassment at their own failure and admiration for the Koreans, and the carnival atmosphere they inspired.

"For a moment it felt like we were in Korea," said Venezuela manager Luis Sojo. "They are all over every moment and it was great for them." Someone wondered why there aren't more major league rosters stocked with Koreans and Sojo, who looks as old as the game itself, offered a wise prediction.

"There will be. To see the way this kid (Yoon) threw the ball opened a lot of eyes," Sojo said. "The bullpen was outstanding. Surprises me that there aren't that many Koreans in the major leagues, but I think from now on there will be."

A championship run here atop the gold medal won in the 2008 Olympics solidifies Korea's place as a true player in the sport. The rest of the baseball world understands this. America ought to be catching on.