Kevin Kernan has a theory.

The rest of America has moved on, but Kevin Kernan is still analyzing Team USA's performance in the World Baseball Classic:

"One of the everlasting images of the World Baseball Classic didn't take place in Anaheim Stadium or Chase Field.

It took place on the campus of Cal State Fullerton, during what turned out to be Team USA's final workout.

Ken Griffey Jr. grabbed a metal bat, the kind the college kids use, and started launching moonshots. One ball flew over the massive pine trees in right-center, traveling an estimated 500 feet. Teammates, fans and reporters were in awe.

In so many ways, that's what the American Game has become. Hit the ball farther than your opponent and prance around the bases. That's exactly why Team USA is sitting on the sidelines as the WBC semifinalskick off today at Petco Park with Japan battling Korea and the Dominican squaring off against Cuba."

Okay, I am not sure how many everlasting images have resulted from the WBC. ARod's single up the middle to win a game. Vernon Wells ending the final USA game with a 6-4-3 dp. The umpire calling the Japanese player out on the tag up play. Eh.

But I'm pretty sure that the memories of Ken Griffey's batting practice homeruns were not everlasting. I'm also pretty sure that, since Ken Griffey's batting practice homeruns were not televised, that they don't even qualify as "images." Maybe somebody captured it on their cell phone, or something, but I haven't seen it.

It's an everlasting image that's not everlasting and not an image.


Not surprisingly, Kernan also fetishizes small ball:

"Before every game the Asian teams work a long fielding session, something American teams never do anymore. They bunt like Phil Rizzuto. They execute. They work long and hard on all the facets of the game.

That's why there have been no bobbles by undefeated Korea, which has not committed an error in the tournament. That's why watching the Japanese pre-game ritual is a lesson in teamwork. Their players take plenty of swings before the game, too, working on bat control, hitting with a purpose, not long-ball theatrics. Yet, if the pitch is inside, they will look to crush it.

Korea and Japan play your father's brand of baseball, the kind of baseball the Yankees of the '50s played - even the Yankees of 1996-2000."

Just be sure not the bring up the Yankees of the '20s, the '30s, the '60s, or the '70s.

My father watched the 1961 Yankees. 240 homeruns and 1 stolen base, which was a mistake because Moose Skowron was on first base and he thought the count was full with two outs.

My father watched the 1977 Yankees. Reggie Jackson's three nuanced homeruns in one World Series game.

His father probably watched the Yankees move in the fences in right field in order to accommodate Babe Ruth's ability to bunt.

As for the '96 - '00 Yankees, I was there to see for myself. As is typical, when Kernan identifies the '96 - '00 era, he must be talking about the legendary '98 Yankees.

While Wade Boggs may have understood the nuances of the strike zone more than any baseball player ever, he split time in '96 with Charlie Hayes. Charlies Hayes did not seem to understand baseball's nuances. Charlie Hayes was so afraid of being spiked in the glove, he wouldn't even tag sliding baserunners at third base.

Other small ball kings who led the Yankees to a title in '96 were Mariano Duncan, Darryl Strawberry, Cecil Fielder, Gerald Williams, and Jim Leyritz.


The Yankee teams of the past ten years have featured terrific offenses which blend speed and power. Sometimes they win in the playoffs, sometimes they lose. Sometimes they got the breaks, sometimes they didn't. Sometimes they beat superior opponents, sometimes they lost to inferior opponents. The difference between winning and losing was never small ball execution.

The way for Team USA and the Yankees to get back on top? It ain't pepper drills.