Different approach brings better results?

Last night brought the conclusion of the second World Baseball Classic with Team Japan defeating Team Korea for the title. This makes Japan 2 for 2 as winners in each of the only two WBC tournaments to date. Korea, the reigning Olympic champion, was a worthy opponent tying the final game in the bottom of the ninth only to lose in extra innings. Given the current dominance of these teams, are the Asians truly the superior baseball players compared to the Cubans, the North Americans, the Latin Americans, and the Dominicans who are often considered (along with the Asians) as the dominant groups?

While Asian pitching seemed the same to me as what I commonly see in the MLB (where, in fact, many Asian pitchers practice their craft), I thought the rest of the defensive scheme was played more aggressively by the Asians, with outfielders playing shallow to take away hits and infielders creeping in to cut runs at the plate and to save precious time on double-play balls. However, the major difference I noted between typical MLB play and what I saw in the championship game of the WBC was in the player's approach to hitting.

As I have described in this blog, the MLB has come to place a huge premium on power hitting. Whether it contributes to winning is not clear but it certainly leads to bigger contracts and so hitters, being rational decision makers, have responded with according effort. The best data supporting the trend towards hitters swinging for the fences in the past decade is the dramatic rise in strikeouts per at bat despite the shrinking strike zone. Here is how I thought the difference in "hitting approach" was so visually obvious.

In general (I know there are exceptions), MLB hitters tend to have one swing. It is a long swing through the strike zone designed for maximum power. The swing has parts of the strike zone where it is effective and parts where it is not. Players "holes" (pitch locations where their swing is not effective) are well known and MLB batters often take pitches for strikes if they are not thrown in a hittable portion of the strike zone. By "hittable", I mean hittable with their long swings designed for the home run. The Asians, on the other hand, seem to have a multitude of various swing forms depending on pitch velocity, location, and movement. They bat to make contact and put the ball in play using long swings when appropriate but more commonly using short, inside out, hands back, and/or lunging swings as needed. Each swing unfolds masterfully as a reaction to the pitch and I must say, it is both artful and entertaining to watch.

Is this small-ball, team approach to getting on base, advancing the runners, sacrificing, and scratching out runs more effective than the MLB approach of relying on the dinger? It was last night.

World Basesball Classic

When I lived overseas, I got a close look at the intense passion with which countrymen followed their teams in international soccer matches. I was living in Italy in '96 when they lost the world cup on penalty kicks and the national grief was astounding. I was impressed by how closely the WC tournament was followed by men, women and children alike and wished that I would have the opportunity to join with my compatriots and cheer for a US National team in an effort so deeply important to so many.

I am encouraged by what seems to be, to my uncultured eye, a steady rise in US competitiveness in soccer. However, it's a sport I never played, can't understand deeply, and doubt will gain a broad national following in my lifetime. American football is played almost no where else so the prospect of meaningful international competition in that sport is not promising. Basketball is great in some parts of the world but, for some puzzling reason, there doesn't seem to be much global spirit and energy channeled toward being the world basketball champion (although beating the US is a major goal for many Olympic teams).

Given this scenario, I was keenly interested in the birth of the World Baseball Classic and followed it closely in 2006, its inaugural year. Now the WBC is underway again and I can't help but notice the minimal public interest and general lack of media fanfare. My fear is that it will fail commercially and dissolve forever. If so, I will blame the failure on timing.

Holding this tournament in March means that many MLB players are not yet in game-playing shape and are unwilling to participate. This in turn dampens US fan interest and diminishes the commercial appeal in our country, which is one of the major global markets where the tournament must attract wide-spread attention to be successful. More importantly, a March schedule means that this fledgling enterprise must compete with the wildly popular and over-hyped NCAA basketball tournament for viewership.

I contend that the tournament should be held in mid-summer during the All-Star break. Perhaps it would require lengthening the All-Star break by a couple days but throw in a few double-headers (my favorite old-school baseball construct that is almost extinct) and the MLB season could end on schedule.

A dubious honor

Ever the news hawk, I recently ran across a story from the BBC about people with unfortunate names. I skimmed it over, found it moderately amusing, and forgot about it until last night when I was perusing the coverage of the World Baseball Classic. One Korean player is so unfortunately named, I believe he belongs at the top of the BBC's list.

I know it's immature, but I first cracked up about this guy when I attended the WBC semi-finals in 2006 and read his name on the scoreboard. I had largely forgotten about him and resumed my former appearance of a well-adjusted adult when I ran across his name again last night. I've chuckled off and on all day whenever I've thought of him but I've been fairly discreet in my mirth and, as far as I know, my lack of maturity has gone unnoticed.

If you are either (a) very mature or (b) cool with the idea that everyone might glimpse the juvenile nature of your true self, then feel free to check out the piece I read about this guy and get in touch with your inner 6th-grader.