Team USA Rolling in World Baseball Classic -- And No One Cares

The timing couldn't be better, of course, for a "USA! USA! USA!'' moment. A sports team can be a powerful forklift when a nation needs a pick-me-up, and as America worries about the economy and online scams and why Rihanna is standing by that Chris Brown loser, sure, we'd like some heavy jingoism right now with our $2.99 value meals.

"When you put that USA across your chest," said David Wright, among the stars of the U.S. baseball team, "to me, there's really no bigger honor as a player than to represent your country."

But really, how can Jake Peavy, Kevin Youkilis and Team USA win us over if only their friends and family are watching the World Baseball Classic?

In theory, anyway, the concept of an international baseball tournament is sensible enough. When so many countries play the game at high levels and supply the major leagues with talent, why wouldn't Bud Selig try to market the sport globally and create stirring competition every few years? There is no disputing the widespread interest and impressive TV ratings in Asia and Latin America, and I loved the Saturday scene in Toronto, where 42,000 Canadians stood and rocked the park as native son Jason Bay dueled U.S. reliever J.J. Putz in a memorable ninth-inning staredown. And can't you just smell the stench out of San Juan, where the mighty Dominican Republic -- whose players have privately fumed about Alex Rodriguez's late WBC scratch -- were eliminated Tuesday night by the Netherlands, a team with two current major-league players?

But at the risk of sounding like an ugly American, here's the big problem: If people in the U.S. don't care about the WBC, it won't survive. And as long as Selig and the global community insist on playing these games in March, people in the U.S. won't care.

We are too sports-savvy in this country not to see the fatal flaws within. Simply, this is not a true test of which nation has the best team because the calendar will not allow it. With spring training in full swing and Opening Day only weeks away, fans are preparing for the season ahead and expect their premier home-team players to do the same. Many have done just that and dropped out of the WBC, leaving rosters diluted and, in some cases, less-than-worldly. Can this really be the ultimate competition when Albert Pujols isn't playing for the Dominicans because of insurance issues? When Rodriguez is out after hip surgery? When Manny Ramirez's monster bat isn't involved? Or, from a U.S. perspective, when Josh Hamilton, Ryan Howard, Grady Sizemore, Mark Teixeira and Matt Holliday aren't playing? And those are just some of the position players.

The biggest issue is pitching. Understandably, major-league teams prefer that their expensive arms aren't blown out in preseason exhibitions, which explains the omission of enough elite pitchers to stock several All-Star rosters. How can Venezuela compete when Carlos Zambrano said no, when Johan Santana is fighting elbow soreness and trying to prepare for Opening Day? How does Canada have a chance when Rich Harden and Ryan Dempster remained with Zambrano in Chicago Cubs camp? Team USA, out to a fast start with wins over the Canadians and Venezuelans, dealt with the late double-whammy of losing closers Joe Nathan and B.J. Ryan. If everyone who bowed out authentically has an injury, then there's a problem. And if some of the injuries were phony, then there's a problem. It's lose-lose.

So why go through with a World Baseball Classic if it's only five-eighths legit? And even if every great player was on his homeland roster, how can the WBC be so arrogant to think it will woo viewers from the masses-and-gamblers fest known as March Madness, currently in progress? The players were all but hyperventilating in the Rogers Centre after Team USA's thrilling 6-5 win over Canada. To hear them talk, this was a watershed moment in baseball history, an epic moment in time.

"This is a playoff atmosphere, as fun a game as I've been a part of," Peavy said. "Everything is on the line, you're doing everything you can to win and advance in this tournament, and playing for your country just takes that through the roof. It's as good an atmosphere as it gets, I believe."

"It was unbelievable," Putz said. "That was definitely the loudest crowd I've ever been a part of. I haven't pitched in the playoffs, so this is what I think playoff baseball would seem like. It was awesome out there."

Said Jimmy Rollins, who won a championship in Philadelphia last fall: "You could compare that to Game 1 of a World Series.''

"It felt the same,'' said Dustin Pedroia, referring to October.

And what was the TV rating in the States? A mere 1.4, or almost four times less than what the NASCAR Kobalt Tools 500 drew the following afternoon and about 500,000 households better than an NHL matinee between the New York Rangers and Boston Bruins. "I can't see, if you're a baseball fan, how you can't get into this tournament," Peavy protested.

I can. When you're a Cubs fan waiting for next year, a Yankees fan waiting for the new Stadium, a Red Sox fan waiting for the Yankees or a Dodgers fan waiting for Manny to be Manny, the WBC is a Wasteful Baseball Crock.

What do we traditionally say about October, money time in the American game? Pitching dominates. Well, pitching can't dominate in this tournament when so many great pitchers aren't here and the ones who did come are bound to pitch counts and restrictions demanded by their big-league clubs. For instance, once a starter reaches 70 pitches, he can't face another hitter. Know how many established big-league starters are throwing 70 pitches in spring-training starts? None, nada. No one is ready, emotionally or physically, for the intense competition of the WBC, and if any manager was tempted to challenge a rule, the players' association sent a representative, former big-league pitcher Mike Myers, to record pitch counts in Toronto. Why are we risking the long-term health of pitchers making tens of millions? U.S. starter Roy Oswalt threw 43 pitches in three innings the other night, causing rightful concern in the Houston Astros camp and forcing the early hand of manager Davey Johnson.

"It's not been fun for Marcel or me,'' said Johnson, whose pitching coach is Marcel Lachemann. "It's not really managing. It's, 'Who's available?' ''

Said Oswalt: "Usually during the season, once you get through the second inning, you get a pace going and you can work to get through the seventh or eighth. Tonight was my third game of the spring. I got into the second inning, and I'm thinking, 'Hopefully I can make it through four.' My arm felt good, but my body and legs got a little dead on me.''

When the games are in March, before the regular season, the WBC is damned either way. The pitchers who don't participate contribute to the watering down of talent. The pitchers who do participate risk injury or reduced performance. According to a USA Today study, nearly four of five pitchers involved in the inaugural WBC in 2006 had a worse earned-run average in the subsequent major-league season than they had in 2005. Making matters worse, several also went to the disabled list. To help ease concerns, any starter who throws 70 pitches cannot pitch for four days, or three days if the pitch count is lower. But Johnson admitted, "A lot of times, we're kind of restricted by the preference of their parent club.''

Which only confirms the reality of it all: What's going on in the WBC is less important than what's going on in Florida and Arizona. The American sports public understands and sees right through this exhibition. How can we take Venezuela seriously when the poor manager, Luis Sojo, had to trot out Little League pitchers against the U.S. because his staff was so thin? It didn't help when Sojo used one of his aces, Felix Hernandez, in relief aganst a weak Italy team, which earned him a grilling from the Venezuelan media. Sojo claimed he was pressured by the Seattle Mariners, Hernandez's team, to use him on Saturday. The Mariners insist otherwise.

Madness.

If the WBC started in, say, mid-November, you'd have a better chance of a more legitimate tournament. Oh, some players still would say no, but not as many. And pitchers could be pitchers, and men could be men. Sure, Selig might have to come up with financial inducements, but the WBC must be separated from the major-league season to carry the proper prominence. Right now, it feels cumbersome and unnecessary in our country, where the semifinals and finals will be held in Dodger Stadium.

It's a shame because Team USA very well could win it, especially with the Dominicans out and other upsets taking place. The U.S. attitude is markedly improved from '06, when the Americans played lackadaisically and finished an embarrassing eighth. "They're definitely the team to beat," said Russell Martin, catcher for Team Canada. "It's the American pastime and it's their game. I'm amazed at the fun and camaraderie the U.S. players are having. They showed up for practice last week and, within days, were frolicking like longtime buddies.

"It feels like we've been together for a long time," said Adam Dunn, an early slugging hero. "I don't know if that's the way they designed it or what. It's a bunch of great guys and everyone gets along. It's amazing.''

"It's not only a tremendous baseball experience, but also a personal experience to be around this group of guys and to have the fun we're having," Wright said. "On the field, in the clubhouse, it's just a blast to be a part of this."

Johnson has declared the Americans the team to beat. Peavy has said it'll be devastating if the Americans don't win. Yes, it's all set up for a resounding "USA! USA! USA!'' chant on a Monday night in Los Angeles.

Sadly, few will be paying enough attention to know.