It's Anyone's Ballgame

The critics and observers who walked away from the WBC wondering how in the world the U.S. team got bounced in the second round are the same people who can't figure out why the Yankees haven't won a World Series title since 2000. The two facts, however, are not unrelated.

"It's not surprising" that the Asian teams excelled in the WBC, said Yankees shortstop Derek Jeter. "They did all the little things. They don't make too many mistakes. But that's what wins in baseball. That's what we [the Yankees] did when we were winning. That's what the White Sox did last year."

In other words, it has become clear over the past few years that you can no longer expect to win the World Series with $200 million rosters full of all-stars at every position. (So goodbye, Yankees.) You don't win titles by spending wildly on pitching, then backing up your pitchers with shoddy defenders. (Sorry, Blue Jays.) You can't win by boosting your lineup's potency at the expense of your starting pitching. (See ya later, Mets.)

In fact, in this age of increased revenue sharing, payroll budgets have become almost immaterial when looking at potential champions. (Except in the case of a handful of extreme small-market teams, such as Kansas City, Tampa Bay and Pittsburgh, who have virtually no chance to win.)

Both of last year's World Series participants were near the middle of the pack in terms of payroll -- the White Sox in 13th place ($75,178,000), the Astros in 12th ($76,779,000). And both the 2002 Angels ($61.7 million) and the 2003 Marlins ($48.7 million) were poor enough that they actually received money under the revenue-sharing formula that shifts funds from the haves to the have-nots.

Lately, the concept of baseball's revenue sharing has been a subject of debate, as labor battles in the NHL and NFL have played out in recent months, and as baseball itself prepares to begin negotiations on a new collective bargaining agreement to replace the one that expires after this year.

First, Red Sox owner John Henry went on record decrying a system that, he said, forces his team to bring in $2 for every $1 it invests just to break even. Then, Yankees owner George Steinbrenner complained to USA Today that baseball was in danger of becoming a "socialist state." Blue Jays President Paul Godfrey, on the other hand, recently advocated raising the revenue-sharing percentage from about 34 percent to closer to 50 percent.

"I sense the signals . . . coming loud and clear from Boston and New York," Godfrey told the Canadian Press, predicting a battle over revenue sharing in the next negotiations. "But isn't [parity] in the best interests of the game? . . . It will work 100 percent when every team at the beginning of April will feel like [it] has a shot at the playoffs. That's the ideal thing."

Would it be absurd to suggest we simply leave well enough alone? This system clearly works. All that revenue sharing has not stopped the Yankees and Red Sox from fielding the highest and second-highest payrolls every year. Meantime, it has helped the Oaklands and Minnesotas of the world -- in other words, small-market teams with superior management -- make the playoffs. And in between, it has allowed a parade of mid-market teams to make it to the World Series, and frequently win it.

Besides modest payrolls and big jumps in the standings from one year to the next, what else ties together our recent World Series champs (excluding, of course, the aberrational 2004 Red Sox)?

For one thing, they all stuck with young pitchers through the inevitable growing pains -- and were rewarded for it in the end.

For Chicago, right-hander Jon Garland went from 12 wins and a 4.89 ERA in 2004 to 18 wins and a 3.50 in 2005, and lefty Mark Buehrle dropped his ERA by more than three-quarters of a run in the same time frame. The 2003 Marlins had similar success with Brad Penny and Josh Beckett, and the 2002 Angels with Jarrod Washburn and Ramon Ortiz.

Another similarity -- and this will not please the many "Moneyball" advocates around the game -- was that all of the champions were adept at playing small ball, which tends to take on added importance in the postseason, when better pitching means runs are harder to come by. The 2005 White Sox, 2003 Marlins and 2002 Angels all ranked in the top three in their league in both of the key small-ball categories -- sacrifice bunts and stolen bases.

Somewhere out there, then, is a seemingly humble team coming off a disappointing year, whose own fans give them little chance of bringing home the glory -- but who might just rise up from the mediocre masses and follow the trail blazed by the 2005 White Sox, the 2003 Marlins and the 2002 Angels.

Who might it be? We like the way the Brewers and Orioles have stuck with their young pitching, the way the Twins play defense, the way the Athletics are all of those things, and more.

But really, the team that does it all the best is the same one that did it the best last year. We won't let the White Sox surprise us again. This time, we see them coming.