World Baseball Classic: a very rough draft of my first attempt at a Sports OpEd piece

I don’t know if anyone has been paying attention to the World baseball classic this past week, but here in Japan it has been all over the news, mostly because Japan won the contest, and secondarily because this country is in love with baseball.

Melissa and Callan and I have been routing for the Japan team since they played America early last week. In case you haven’t heard, Japan should have won the game, but because of a terrible call by an American umpire, Japan’s eighth inning go ahead score was over turned and America ended up winning in the 9th inning with a base hit up the middle by Alexander Rodriguez.

I can’t decide what embarrassed me more, the poor call by the American umpire, or the way that the American players made fools of themselves. Not only are they overly muscled steroid pumping freaks who think playing in the major leagues makes them divine, but they incessantly chew gum, scratch themselves, and strut on and off the field like fighting cocks. I watched the Americans bat, and every time a strike was called after a pitch, the American batter would pull skeptical face as if to say the umpire was full of it and “how dare he call a strike on me. Doesn’t he know who I am? Doesn’t he know I make more in two minutes than he makes in a year?”

If I were a member of the America team I would have felt sick after the game against Japan, knowing that I didn’t deserve the win. One player actually called it a lucky break, I think he said, ‘the call went our way,” as if there was real question as to whether the third base runner had really tag up early or not. Well the replays don’t lie, and the runner didn’t leave early and America went home with a stolen victory.

Still it is of little consequence because America lost to Mexico, which sent Japan to the semifinals against Korea, where the Japan team played flawlessly. The victory over Korea brought them to the finals against Cuba, and there Japan showed the world that the Major leagues do not hold a corner on Baseball greatness.

However, it is still difficult to get the image of the American team out of my head. Is that how the rest of the world sees us, as gum chewing playground bullies whose money and preeminence has made us fat, lazy, and feeling entitled?

The Japanese players walk onto the field emanating an aura of reverence for the field, for the ball park, for the fans. Whether they are at heart the sportsman they appear to be may be difficult to decide, but at least the give the appearance of having a sense of humility and reverence for the sport. Where the Americans seemed like the power glutted blubbering gods of Mt. Olympus, the Japanese players seemed more like the humble prophet of the desert. They may not eat locust and honey, but they very well may be ushering in a new dispensation of athletes whose cleats the Americans won’t be worthy to lace up.