The second-ever World Baseball Classic came to a conclusion on March 23, and for most Americans, the event elicited as much excitement as an Utsav Gupta campaign speech (more exciting than paint drying, less exciting than ‘Tyler Perry’s House of Payne’ marathon). The finals of the event, taking place at Dodger Stadium in Los Angeles, featured the defending champion Team Japan facing the Korean squad. For many living in the nation where the finals were taking place, the WBC had come to an end right after Team USA’s elimination in the semifinals. Others probably gave up on the event in 2006, when Team USA was eliminated even earlier and thus leading some to say the entire thing didn’t matter.
Sitting at the WBC finals, surrounded by true fans of the Japanese and Korean teams, it become crystal clear that even without Team USA, the classic did matter. It mattered to every single player on that field and to the fans that put all their faith and hope in to a team representing their heritage.
I’ve been to a lot of baseball games in my life. I spent two weeks after my freshman year driving through 11 different states and seeing games at seven different stadiums. I love baseball, and in that sense, I’m partially biased toward the WBC. Many who are able to tolerate a basketball or football game look at the intricacies of baseball and would prefer to watch the Hayden Christiansen film ‘Jumper’ (warning: do not attempt to watch ‘Jumper’). Nonetheless, the atmosphere of the WBC rivaled any sporting atmosphere I have ever been a part of. The game itself was played so well that you got to see exactly why these two teams, and not the disjointed USA squad, made the finals. You could understand why they deserved a chance to be deemed the real World Champion. Seeing baseball played the way it really should be played, it was blatantly obvious that either of these teams, comprised mostly of non-MLB players, would be at the very least a playoff contender in the Major Leagues.
The palpable difference between the finals of this year’s WBC and other events I’ve attended ‘mdash; including the 2006 WBC semifinals and finals ‘mdash; was the intense and unshakable pride on each side of the aisle. Fans cared about their teams to the same degree that parents say they care about their children; specifically the child they actually like and not just the one they tolerate, lie to and then show their disdain for through crappy gift-giving (thanks for the birthday socks, mom and dad). Seeing people care so much and align themselves so completely with a team is the greatest reminder of the power and impact of sports.
Why are there 24-hour channels dedicated only to sports? Why do people propose marriage inside a stadium? Why are there so many children and pets named after athletes? Why are people able to connect so quickly over a team or a game?
Sports matter, in times of excitement and exhilaration, in times of loss and d
efeat, when they give you something to look forward to, or when they take you away from something you can no longer deal with. Sports have power, sports have impact, and with all of those fans who were so jacked up with love of a sport and pride for their team at the WBC, the feeling was revitalizing and contagious ‘mdash; like body wash that gives you pink-eye, but in a good way.
The pride shown by the fans in attendance, and disdain shown for the WBC by many Americans who think only USA-dominated sports or tournaments matter, reminded me of UCSD. A lot of people said they would have watched the WBC finals had Team USA been in contention. Similarly, a lot of people say that UCSD needs a football team, and then they’d go to all the games. Here’s the thing: even without Team USA, an amazing game was played and those who watched as the Koreans battled to tie the game in the ninth only for Japan to defend its WBC crown in extra innings got far more than their money’s worth. In the same way, UCSD might not have a football team, but we have a women’s basketball team that returned to the NCAA Tournament, a men’s basketball team that deserved an NCAA spot, a baseball team that swept the top-ranked squad in the country and a crap-load of other teams that are often battling, and beating, Division-I opponents. Sure, one day a football team will be nice, but reasonable people understand that it is not feasible right now. One day UCSD might get a football team, one day they might move up to Division I. In the mean time, rather than waiting, bitching and envisioning a competitive Triton World of Warcraft or late-night study team, there are games going on and teams to support and take pride in.
I’m not sure I’ll get to see or feel the same sense of pride I witnessed at the WBC, but I guess that’s the reason I watch a lot of sports, spend far too much money going to games and have this intense connection to something that might be pretty trivial: the off-chance that I might again get to see something that is truly classic.