Take me out to the ballgame … in Korea! At least that’s what it felt like over the weekend in San Diego.
As the extended fortnight of the World Baseball Classic neared its conclusion in Saturday’s semifinals, the notion that baseball is no longer just ‘our’ game – if it ever was – was yet again magnified.
The passion on the field and in the stands at Petco Park showed just how much the game has grown beyond U.S. borders. With Team USA embarrassingly eliminated from the inaugural Classic in the second round, the semifinals offered an all-Latin matinee and an all-Asian nightcap. And the fans couldn’t have loved it more.
Though passions ran high in the afternoon – particularly with the Dominican Republic’s fans and the Cuban team’s enthralling idiosyncracies – it was the evening session that put the international gala on full display.
From well before the first pitch in the South Korea-Japan showdown, any previously-clueless American had to realize just how much the outcome of this game meant to the teams and nations involved.
Despite a rain shower that threatened to postpone the game’s start, the chanting began as the rosters were introduced.
“Dae-Han-Min-Kook,” yelled the Korean supporters. “Great Korea!” Having already defeated Japan twice in the opening rounds, Korea had designs on a third victory, one that would send it to the championship game and eliminate its archrival.
The Japanese fans, while outnumbered by the boisterous Koreans, trotted out signs, face paint and, above all, flags in an exhuberant celebration of their nation.
The game itself was a showcase for the fact that the U.S. doesn’t have a corner on winning baseball. Lights-out pitching and crisp, precise defense dominated the first six innings of play. Few hitters got good wood on the ball, and even when they did, the solid knocks were gobbled up by the fleet Asian fielders, and the game remained scoreless.
From the first pitch on, the Korean fans were on the edge of their seats, waiting to explode in joy at the slightest good play their heroes made. This being an international tournament, players were introduced first in English and then in their native language. Korea’s supporters remained uniformly silent as their stars were named in English–as if in protest–but their cheers almost always drowned out the end of the Korean announcers words.
And Ichiro Suzuki was Public Enemy No. 1 to those fans. The face of Japanese baseball, and single-season hits leader in Major League Baseball, brought out the most vociferous chants from the pro-Korea section, as he was booed constantly throughout his at bats.
For these fans, it was personal. The cocksure Ichiro had always engendered respect as the first Asian position player to star in the majors, but because he hails from Japan, Koreans also have a healthy envy of him. The right fielder’s comments in the days leading up to the tournament and the semifinal regarding just how badly he wanted to assert his nation’s superiority on the diamond had opposing fans in a tizzy.
But true to form, the incomparable Ichiro rose above it all, singling and stealing second in both of his first two at bats and then slapping a base hit down the left-field line in the seventh inning to put the final touches on Japan’s five-run outburst.
Unfortunately for the large pro-Korean contingent, there weren’t many highlights on the field to celebrate. Not that the fans gave up on their team. Though rain showers forced a 45-minute delay in the top of the eighth with Korea trailing 6-0, the fans hardly gave up hope. Rather, they all moved down to the field level seats, directly behind their team’s dugout and resumed their non-stop chant.
“Dae-Han-Min-Kook,” roared the fans, complete with drums beating and thousands of Thunderstix being pounded together.
Though the PA system was blaring the Beach Boys, Brian Wilson’s smooth voice couldn’t come close to competing with the Koreans. All this in a RAIN DELAY.
In typical fashion, the bulk of the non-partisan fans bolted as soon as the skies opened, further illuminating the divide between the carefree (or careless) American fan and the impassioned Korean backer. You ask, “What if it Team USA had been in the semifinal?” Can you honestly say that the vast majority of fans would stick out a thunderstorm–uncovered–if the Americans were either up or down by six runs with less than two innings to play? Of course not.
Even though Korea never got its offense on track when play resumed and eventually fell 6-0 to bow out of the Classic, the astounding bond between team and fans was hardly diminished. Just as the supporters honored their stars throughout the game, the players, upon defeat, immediately gathered in front of the grandstand and applauded their rooters in a moving salute.
Players applauding fans? Fans building up steam throughout a rain delay? A centuries-long rivalry penning its latest chapter on the diamond? It was the World Baseball Classic at its finest.
And Team USA was nowhere in sight.
