The World Baseball Classic (WBC) is one of the most captivating tournaments in international sport—a stage where national identity shines not just through competition but also through energy and celebration. Teams played with joy and spirit just as much as athleticism throughout the ups and downs of every game. Players from Team Italy sip espresso from Moka pots after home runs, while the Dominican Republic National Baseball Team turns every big hit into a moment of collective joy by dancing and embracing each other in celebration.
Against this backdrop, the United States National Baseball Team stood out, not due to its electric energy, but for its cold restraint. The contrast has sparked a broader conversation about the role of militarism in American sports culture and what it communicates globally.
This theme of militarism was only amplified when Team USA invited Robert O’Neill, a former SEAL Team 6 member, to deliver a motivational speech in the locker room. O’Neill is widely known for his role in the 2011 raid that killed Osama bin Laden. In recent years, however, he has gained attention for controversial social media commentary, making him an increasingly polarizing figure in the public sphere.
His presence in the locker room symbolized a longstanding pattern of military imagery being meshed into American sport. From camouflage uniforms to pregame flyovers and “Salute to Service” campaigns, U.S. sports have long incorporated military symbolism into their culture. Yet, in the context of an international tournament defined by cultural expression and joy, the tone Team USA has conveyed felt significantly different. Bringing an even colder energy, catcher Cal Raleigh was seen wearing a shirt reading “Front Toward Enemy,” a phrase associated with the Claymore mine. While it was likely intended as a symbol of toughness or focus, the message holds overt military connotations. In a tournament where other teams lean into identity through food, music, and communal celebration, this kind of imagery is quite jarring.
The WBC lets nations choose how to represent themselves. For many countries, baseball is a point of cultural pride, an opportunity to be joyful and proud of where they come from. The Dominican Republic’s exuberance reflects a relationship with the sport that is deeply connected to the nation’s identity. Italy’s espresso rituals speak to its people’s cultural traditions and humour. On the other hand, Team USA chooses to platform its government’s insistence on foreign interference. Their inability to forgo discipline and focus—ultimately reminiscent of ‘military mentality’—may reflect broader cultural values of efficiency and become a testament to how seamlessly the emphasis of military presence has embedded itself into common culture in the U.S. It brings important questions to light: What do we lose when we stop prioritizing and emphasizing joy? Is this lack of whimsy worth it to uphold the image of the U.S. as a nation not to be reckoned with? Couldn’t the real trophy be the friends we made along the way?
From Olympic boycotts to national anthems and flag ceremonies, international competition has always carried political undertones and has raised questions surrounding the relationship between sport and politics. In the case of American sports, the integration of military symbolism runs deep, and is shaped by decades of partnerships and cultural reinforcement. The integration of military symbolism has become a defining factor instead of just a facet of what it means to be American, and these symbols tend to speak not only to how nations see themselves, but also how they wish to be perceived. Having such a prevalent military attitude during a time when the U.S. military is waging war on the Middle East can convey a message of hate and malice to international audiences who are watching the WBC.
With Pete Hegseth calling the U.S. a Christian nation and intertwining the national identity with war—“Blessed be the Lord, my rock, who trains my hands for war and my fingers for battle”—the notion is only deepened.
To meld together the United States’ identity with battle and war implies that those are actions to be proud of, despite the thousands of lives lost in the pursuit of those ‘values.’ A display of military dominance has no place on the global stage of WBC—which, at its core, is a celebratory tournament of baseball across the world.Baseball and the culture that surrounds it are as much about joy as they are about competition. The success of the WBC shows that fans are drawn to authenticity, energy, and connection, which are all qualities that transcend borders. There is no place for the continued normalization of the American military-industrial complex at international sports tournaments.