As Tommy Lasorda released the ceremonial first pitch in the opening round of the World Baseball Classic (WBC) in Tokyo, Japan, three weeks ago, the message was on target, even though the pitch rolled feebly to home plate.

With that first pitch, the aging former Los Angeles Dodgers manager officially ended the days when college kids and minor leaguers represented the country. The men paid to play the game took over. Having lost the Olympics, the international scene was taken from them.

The reaction of the college baseball culture has been mixed, as some see it as a lost opportunity. Others perceive it as a chance to bring the best players from each country on to the field. Either way, they knew their days were over last summer before the WBC.

Last July, the International Olympic Committee (IOC) and its president, Jacques Rogge, lobbied that the sport be axed from the Games. The committee, represented predominately by European nations, voted to cut baseball and softball from the London lineup in 2012, arguing that the sport was not truly worldwide in scope.

If anything, this tournament with an uncertain future may be an effort to combat that stigma.

"That's what they're trying to do right now, show that it is worldwide," Penn State baseball coach Robbie Wine said.

While the IOC deliberated, Lasorda engaged in a campaign of his own. He had visions of a truly World Series. He just needed someone else that saw the potential.

After refusing to adjust its schedule to allow major league players to participate in the Olympics, Major League Baseball Commissioner Bud Selig finally reached an agreement with the players' union after the IOC had made its decision. The first WBC tournament launched earlier this month, an event that culminated in last night's finale between Japan and Cuba. Europe fielded only two teams, the Netherlands and Italy. Both were eliminated in the opening round.

As the ramifications from the inaugural WBC and the decisions of the IOC unfold, one thing is clear: college students similar to the ones that helped Lasorda attain a 2000 gold medal had no voice in the decision making, leaving them without a chance to represent their country. Whether or not that's a good thing remains to be seen.

In 2004, the kids from the U.S. that swing the aluminum sticks failed to qualify for the Olympics. In 1992, they didn't make their way to the podium.

Penn State ace Alan Stidfole looked past the lost opportunity. The quality of play has been a joy to watch, even though he hasn't seen much of the games because of his own schedule.

"It might be a step up from the Olympics," he said. "The Olympics is always collegiate and now it's more professional just because you have the major leaguers competing."

Wine, an Oklahoma State grad, feels the college kids lose out on a valuable experience. Now the amateurs are left without a chance to play with some of the best talent the world has to offer.

"It sure is disappointing because it's certainly something college kids look forward to," Wine said.

It also puts the U.S. in a new dilemma. No longer able to blame shortcomings on a group of lesser ballplayers, it became painfully clear to baseball enthusiasts that Americans no longer play the best baseball in the world.

The U.S. fielded a mix of all-stars and future Hall of Famers for the WBC and still didn't advance to the semifinals. There is only one MLB position player left in the Classic: Ichiro Suzuki of the Seattle Mariners. Internationally, the quality of U.S. baseball isn't measuring up, reminiscent of the basketball debacle in the last Summer Games.

Lasorda probably did not anticipate the reluctance of the U.S.-born players to take the field for the event. He publicly questioned why some marquee names refused to participate. A myriad of other excuses popped up, including the fear of getting hurt.

He also probably did not foresee the apathy of fans to embrace the tournament. The across-the-board American reluctance to engage in the event may stem from the fact that it appears to be a lose-lose situation. Only once baseball fans watch do they get interested. The problem is getting them to watch in the first place.

Serious baseball in March? That's unprecedented, as the major league season is drawn out into a seven-month marathon. Like Stidfole, Wine slowly embraced the event as it went along.

"It's growing on me; at first I thought it was just a fad," Wine said. "It's kind of interesting. The guys that are playing in it see it as a competition, and they're playing to win."

Now that a Mexico team that threw a minor-league pitcher on the mound has eliminated the best the U.S. has to offer, it has prompted a new assessment of America's role in the international scene.

Lasorda and the world recognize baseball is no longer a sport played solely within the U.S. borders.

They also now know the U.S. is no longer the best, most likely something he never expected to happen in his lifetime.