In both an amazing game and a crushing blow to Korean national pride, Japan won last night, defending their title as reigning WBC Champions.  And if we may, I’d like to take a moment for my Korean brothers.  Not only will they have to swim home, but those of them who have not yet done their time in the army have just blown their shot at an exemption.

Yeah, that’s right.  If the Koreans had won last night’s contest, there was a pretty decent shot that those boys on the team who had not yet done their service would have been given a pass.  Apparently, in Korea, they totally don’t believe in the Principle of Separation of Sports and State.

Despite the fact that it remained a close-nail-bitingly close-competition for the duration, Japan had Korea’s number from pretty much beginning to end.  Korea struggled against the dominant Iwakuma who allowed four hits and two runs in 7.2 innings.  Japan, on the other hand, had a constant string of runners on base.

In the end, and not surprisingly, Ichiro Suzuki was the hero of the evening.  Despite the fact that Korea came back from a one run deficit in the ninth, Suzuki was the guy to break up the 3-3 tie in the 10th. Two outs.  Eight-pitch at-bat.  Two-run single. Totally epic.

Here’s the thing about Suzuki: it’s not just that he’s really, really good at baseball.  (Though he is really, really good at baseball.)  It’s that he has a way of making it look easy, graceful, artistic almost.  As my friend and yours, Chris Yamaoka, suggested, it’s like things move more slowly for that Suzuki.  Hell, maybe he’s somehow related to Hiro Nakamura and was endowed with the ability to travel through space and time to control the outcome of certain events.  I mean, they’re both Japanese.  And all those guys are related, right?

On the subject of drawing offensive links to unconnected Asian people, it can’t go without saying that Joe Morgan’s coverage of this game was totally borderline.

A shocker, I know.

Comments like, “these Asian people,” “Asian hitters,”  “the thing about Asian people is” were free-flowing throughout the evening.  There was also a distressing inability to remember names.  Because they were all so confusing and, well, Asian.  “Chang, I mean Choi, I mean, the Asian guy.”

Generally speaking, a lot of this week’s coverage was weird in this way.  In someone’s interview with Suzuki last night, they asked him if he was able to take a Zen approach to the game.  Would that same journalist have asked a Haitian player if he had created voodoo dolls of his rivals?

But, hell.  I guess I should go a little bit easier on people.  They mean well, even if they’re possibly a little bit ignorant.  (And by ignorant I mean predisposed towards racial profiling.)    They were, after all, just getting into all the excitement I guess.

I mean, as an mlb.com beat writer wrote, this was a game “that had more twists and turns than kabuki.”

The baseball gods (in whom I don’t believe–See Principle of Separation of Church and Sports) have graced this Classic with just the kind of drama and intrigue that was necessary to make it deeply compelling to people everywhere.  Well, Korean and Japanese people everywhere.  Not to mention me.  Though, I am of course, part Korean despite the fact that the world refuses to acknowledge me as such.

On Saturday, the Koreans kicked the kimchi out of Venezuela 10-2 ensuring their spot in the final.  Yesterday, Japan beat up on the U.S. 9-4 so they will also be making their way to the final round of this thing.

The historic battle for Dokdo begins, and may the best country win.

The world, of course, also refuses to acknowledge that this is a battle for Dokdo.  However, anytime the Japanese and Koreans meet in competition, it’s sort of always a battle for Dokdo.  If not legally, than symbolically.  Which is more important I think.

(The world obviously refuses to acknowledge that symbolism is more important than legality.  More often than not, I’m on a different page from the world.)

I realize that when I talk about the Korean-Japanese baseball final in terms of its political significance, I may sound as though I am in breach of the Principle of Separation of  Sports and State. Let me just clarify one important point.  This is a principle that doesn’t apply in international athletic competitions. International sporting events were created in order for countries to prove their superiority over other countries.  It would be impossible to keep old historical and political rivalries out of it.  Perhaps, I am perverse because I take such pleasure in this phenomenon.  But I guess I just feel like if rivalry amongst nations is going to exist, what better place for it to play out than on the baseball field?

That’s just me, though.  I’m sure the good people at MLB wouldn’t have minded Team U.S.A in the mix.  After all, the good people at MLB are probably more preoccupied with the ratings for this thing than they are with any concerns about who can lay fake claim over a bunch of fairly unimportant but politically charged islets in the Sea of Japan.  I’m sure right about now Bob DuPuy is thinking, “Hell, if it was going to be an Asian competition, why not China?” I mean, talk about a seriously large TV viewing audience.

Of course, the Chinese stink, so that was never in the tea leaves.

Anyway, it all boils down to tonight. One game, one winner.  A couple weeks back Jorge Cantu told us that the Japanese and Korean teams were pretty much the same.  We laughed at his ignorance.  Yesterday, we got insight from a player a little less apt to generalize and that player was Korean outfielder Shin-Soo Choo, who said, “Korean players and Japanese players are excellent.  There is little difference between the two.”

Dag.  Have a little self-respect, brother.

All right.  If there’s one thing I will give everyone who refuses to draw a distinction between Japan and Korea it’s that both teams have rock solid pitching staffs.  Tonight, the Korean’s are planning to go with Jung Keun Bong (2-0, 0.66 ERA in the Classic).  The Japanese will go with to Hisashi Iwakuma (1-1, 0.73 ERA).

Regardless of the outcome, it should be a game worth watching.  Because if there’s another similarity between those two teams, it’s that they both play solid ball.

Tommy Lasorda, for one, can’t wrap his brain around just how solid that ball really is.  Shocked that Japan (the reigning WBC champion) should have beat out the States (eliminated in Round 2 of the 2006 Classic) for a spot in the finals, he commented, “We taught these people the game.”

And apparently “these people” have taught Lasorda nothing about humility.

That said, first they have to get there.

Japan’s road to the finals will not be an easy one.  It will require them to win their upcoming game against Team USA with likely starter Jake Peavy.  And despite the fact that the red, white and blue is a team increasingly riddled with injury, it is also a force to be reckoned with.

As for the Koreans, they will meet the Venezuelans, a team favored in many circles on account of their lineup of major league sluggers. Our Korean boys, however, do have one distinct advantage.  Recon.  According to Korean manager Kim In-Sik, “We didn’t meet them directly, but we saw them through the TV different times.”

If I had a dollar for every time I said that to a famous person.

What an upset.

That’s right, while you were busy ogling pictures of A-Weird ogling himself, Team U.S.A. was busy dogpiling to celebrate their 3-1 victory over Puerto Rico.  That is, according to David Wright, anyway, who was the hero of last night’s game.  Dee Dubs commented, “I never thought that we’d be dogpiling in March, but it was pretty special and something I’ll always remember.”

Ah, yes, one doesn’t soon forget his first March dogpile.  Hold on to that memory, Dee Dubs, and count yourself lucky.  There is no guarantee that you will ever again feel that kind of magic.  Unless, of course, you get yourself a wallet-sized copy of the A-Weird make-out picture to carry around with you.

In winning the contest against Puerto Rico, the U.S. have not only secured a spot in the semifinals, but they have eliminated the commonwealth from the race.  And on behalf of commonwealthers everywhere, let me just be the first to say, “Ay, que lastima!”

But wait.  It wasn’t all bad.

Our Koreans friends were able to pull out a win in last night’s game against the Japanese. In addition to the fact that their victory assures them a spot in the next round, it also leaves them with a 2-1 record against the Japanese in this year’s Classic.  And what better way to say, “Occupy this.  Oh, and yeah.  We’re better than you are at baseball.”

Korea’s 4-1 victory was, in part, the result of two careless first-inning defensive plays by Japanese second basemen Akinori Iwamura. When asked how he felt about the plays, Japanese manager Tatsunori Hara commented, “Let’s just say that the out was what was wanted.”

Pay attention, folks.  Cutting edge baseball analysis happening here.

The Japanese, however, are not out of the race just yet.  Tonight, they will play the Cubans who have kept their own hope alive by knocking out the Mexicans.

Moment of silence for Jorge Cantu.  I’m gonna miss that guy.

So the Japanese and Cubans will be battling it out for the fourth and final slot in the semifinals. (The Venezuelans have secured the third slot.)  It’s a familiar pairing.  The Cubans and Japanese met in the Classic Finals in 2006.  We all know how that ended; the Japanese won creating a worldwide stir and gaining international respect and admiration.

Actually, not true.  Sadly, I am like one of three people who actually follow the Classic.

However, the competition is undoubtedly more important on the global stage than it is domestically, where people tend to see it as that thing interfering with spring training.  And given that Cuba and Japan fancy themselves baseball playing giants, tonight’s game is bound to be an upset somewhere. Not on the scale of the Dutch elimination or anything.

But, well, no one saw that one coming.

The matchups are as follows:

Venezuela will meet the lean mean Dutch machine in Miami.  And may I just offer them (the Venezuelans) my sympathies in advance.  I mean, don’t get me wrong.  The Venezuelans aren’t TERRIBLE.  They have a few players I wouldn’t kick out of my lineup-guys like Magglio Ordonez, Miguel Cabrera, Bobby Abreu, Ramon Hernandez, Melvin Mora and Carlos Guillen.  But, whatever.  They’re playing the Dutch.  And the Dutch are, well, the Dutch-a team fast developing a reputation for turning serious lineups into Hollandaise sauce.

Dutch manager Rod Delmonico seems to know this, and he recently said, “After the wars that we’ve been through, I don’t think I’ll worry about who we tee it up against.”

I just love a good mixed metaphor.  Second only to the direct expression of one’s actual meaning.

The USA and Puerto Rico will also square off in Miami today. And David Wright wants us to know that he refuses to talk trash about his opponents.  Why?  Because so dang many of them are players for the Mets. (Use of the word “dang” an attempt to capture the voice of David Wright.)    I don’t know when an unwillingness to trash talk became newsworthy, but I guess everyone just loves to hear about whatever adorable thing Dee Dubs happens to be doing at any given moment.

In any case, I hate to do it, but I’ve got to root against the red, white and blue on this one.  Well, not technically seeing as that Puerto Rico is red, white and blue in more ways than one, but they remain a favorite.  Sorry, Jeet. I’ll totally have your back if and when you ever play Mexico.

And speaking of Mexico, come Sunday, they’ll be playing the Koreans in San Diego. In an effort to elucidate the upcoming challenges of Team Mexico’s run for the semifinals, Mexican infielder Jorge Cantu commented, “Well, I mean, Korea and Japan are pretty much both the same team.”

Yikes.  Meaning what?  That all the players could get away with sharing a driver’s license?

But Cantu clarified his seemingly questionable comment by saying, “They play the little game.”

Ah, I see.  “The little game.”  Of course, “the little game” may be a reference to the Japanese-Korean centuries old conflict over a couple of rocks in the Sea of Japan.  It may also just be Cantu’s way of saying small ball.

Either way, something tells me that, given certain historical tensions, Japan and Korea would prefer not to be dubbed “pretty much the same team.”  I mean, come on, Cantu.  The whole point of this frickin’ contest is to prove that your country is better than someone else’s without actually having to kill anyone.  Get with the program.

Last, but certainly not least, Japan will play Cuba on Sunday in a rematch of the 2006 final, which ended in a 10-6 Japanese victory.  So, here’s the chance for Cuban retribution.

And where better, I ask, for the settling of an old blood feud than San Diego?  That place?  It’s got an edge.  And by edge I mean a killer whale named Shamu.