|
|
|
|
 |
May 15th 2008 |
 |
|
|
Current Issue: MARCH/APRIL 2007 |
 |
|
|
|
UPCLOSE |
From Baseball to Béisbol
The changing face
of America’s favorite pastime
|
|
También en español
|
BY RICHARD MORENO
|
When Dominican-American Alexander Emmanuel “Alex” Rodriguez—or A-Rod as he
is commonly known—signed a 10-year, $252 million contract in 2000 with the Texas
Rangers, he became the highest-paid player in major league baseball. It was a watershed moment in the history of the sport long known as America’s favorite pastime—and a far cry from the days when a $10,000 signing bonus was a big deal for any player, let alone a Latino.
A lot has changed since 1902 when Luis Castro played in 42 games with the Philadelphia Athletics in 1902 or when Cuban Esteban Bellán, played in the National Association league from 1871 to 1873 for the Troy (NY) Haymakers and the New York Mutuals. Now rosters are filled with Hispanic surnames. In fact, almost 40 percent of major league players—and close to 50 percent of minor leaguers—are Hispanic.
Besides A-Rod, there are 17 other players named Rodriguez currently in the major leagues. There also are 19 players named Perez, 13 named Ramirez and 11 named Sanchez. And don’t forget about those named Alou, Cabrera, Alvarez, Gonzalez, Batista, Gomez, Santana and Pena. Fútbol (aka soccer) may be the most popular sport among Latinos worldwide, but baseball is the American sport Latinos have made their own.
The Latinization of the sport has been a long time coming. It got a huge boost forward when Dodgers President and General Manager Branch Rickey broke the color line by signing Jackie Robinson, the first African-American in the major leagues, to a minor league contract on August 28, 1945. Rickey, as president of the Pittsburgh Pirates also is credited with drafting Roberto Clemente, widely considered baseball’s first Hispanic superstar, back in 1955.
After Rickey signed Robinson, the Washington Senators (later the Minnesota Twins) almost immediately sent superscout Poppa Joe Cambria to Cuba, the other place on the planet where baseball had become almost a religion. There he signed scores
of players, among them future standouts like Camilo Pascual, Pedro Ramos, Zoila Versailles and Tony Oliva.
The Senators’ decision to import Cuban players was prompted by two harsh realities: their farm system was anemic and Cuban players were cheap and talented. Other teams quickly saw the wisdom, though, and scouts began combing not just Cuba, but the entire Caribbean, for new stars. At the time, the Dominican Republic—the place that currently spawns the most Latin players—was not part of the recruiting frenzy, in part because the country was being run by brutal dictator Rafael Trujillo.
The 1950s and early 1960s were a turning point for the sport because the Caribbean landscape began to radically change. First, the Fidel Castro-led Cuban revolution in the late 1950s led to a breakdown in trade with the U.S. A few years later, Trujillo’s 31-year reign of terror in the Dominican Republic ended violently with his assassination in 1961.
Assessing the new political situation, Branch Rickey disciple Al Campanis approached Dodger owner Walter O’Malley with a novel idea that would later change not merely scouting and player development forever, but also would transform the economics of Latin America.
With baseball morphing into béisbol, Campanis suggested to Cuban-born coach and scout Ralph Avila that he head to the Dominican Republic to search for new talent. Avila then proposed to the Dodger brass that they create the players of tomorrow by
opening a baseball academy in the Dominican Republic. Talented young kids (initially the minimum age was 15, though it was later moved to 16) would receive coaching the Dodger way, as well as get medical attention, nutrition, lessons in English and an introduction to American culture.
The result, Avila predicted correctly, would be crop after crop of players ready not merely to play, but also to assimilate easily into the world of American baseball without the bumps and obstacles their predecessors faced. Soon, an assembly line of players ranging from Ramon and Pedro Martinez to Raul Mondesi, Adrian Beltre
and Cesar Itzuris emerged from the academy. Seeing the success of this approach, other teams quickly scrambled to set up their own academies throughout
the Caribbean.
Andres Reiner, a baseball scout whose family moved from Hungary to Venezuela while he was still a boy, was the one who convinced the Houston Astros in 1989 that the Dominican experiment also could work in Venezuela, a country with three times the population of the Dominican Republic. Thanks to his persuasiveness, Venezuela has produced standouts Johan Santana, Melvin Mora, Bobby Abreu, Carlos Zambrano, Victor Martinez and Frankie Rodriguez. And Andres Reiner even believes that by 2010 there could be more Venezuelans than Dominicans playing in the Big Leagues.
Although Latin players began to arrive in the United States in ever-increasing
numbers, the transition was not always an easy one. Former Cuban/Mexican player Ruben Amaro, who still works for the Phillies, explains the situation succinctly: “There were the white guys; there were the black guys; and then there was us. We were the invaders.”
Coming from lands where race was rarely an issue, Latin ballplayers suddenly found themselves confronted by incomprehensible situations like the one Vic Power, born Victor Felipe Pellot Pove in Puerto Rico, found himself in one night in Arkansas after a game.
When he wandered into an Arkansas roadhouse looking for a meal, everyone
in the place froze. A waitress finally came over and said, “I’m sorry, but we
don’t serve colored people.”
“Thank heaven,” Power said, “I don’t eat colored people. Can I get some rice and
beans?”
No entiendo
Combined with race, culture, customs and homesickness, language issues made
life difficult for early Latin players. Most were determined to succeed in this foreign land, though, and just toughened up and faced their challenges head on.
Cuban-born Tony Perez, who became what Cincinnati Reds manager Sparky Anderson called, “The godfather of every Latin in the big leagues,” was one player who didn't speak much English when he first arrived. To avoid problems, he remembers eating ham and eggs every night for dinner during his first
minor league season because it was the one thing he knew how to say.
And Hall of Famer Orlando Cepeda reminisces—with a measure of irony—about how he would say, “Thank you very much,” when someone from the opposing stands yelled, “Go back home, you f-in’ Puerto Rican.” At the time, he only understood two words: Puerto Rican.
Language, thankfully, is no longer an issue for today’s players. Current teams
teach their Latino prospects English, and each club has scores of employees who
are either Latino or speak Spanish fluently.
The Modern Era
In the 1970s, the progress Latino players had made continued. In that era, the Cincinnati Reds, under Anderson’s astute management, dominated the league with a distinctly Latino lineup. Despite the absence of big-name pitching, the Reds—with Tony Perez, Davey Concepcion, Cesar Geronimo and Pedro Borbon playing alongside superstars Johnny Bench, Joe Morgan and Pete Rose—became the first largely
Latin team to dominate an era. The reason? Anderson created a family atmosphere for the players because he was one of the few managers up to that point who not only accepted diversity but reveled in it.
Today, as mentioned earlier, there are tons of Hispanic surnames on every
roster and many Hispanic millionaires playing the game. Although there is still
much progress to be made to completely level the playing field, Latino players,
whether homegrown or imported, are now warmly welcomed by major league
baseball teams and their fans, who clearly care more about their on-field
abilities than their ethnicity or the color of their skin.
And new trends continue to emerge. While places like Puerto Rico produce fewer and fewer prospects, Colombian and Nicaraguan imports are beginning to arrive. Even more importantly, Latinos have begun to appear more frequently in upper management. Consider Angels owner Arte Moreno, who became the first Hispanic owner of a major league baseball team in 2003—or Linda Alvarado, who co-owns the Colorado Rockies. And don’t forget about General Managers such as the Mets’ Omar Minaya, the Phillies’ Ruben Amaro Jr. or Detroit’s Al Avila.
As Hispanics increasingly dominate the American landscape, the country’s
favorite pastime has begun to reflect society as we know it today. Let’s play
béisbol!
Editor’s Note: This article is based in part on stories, incidents and anecdotes told to writer Richard Moreno and filmmaker Alan Swyer during more than 100 hours of interviews with past and present stars, executives, scouts, historians and
broadcasters for their documentary about Latin baseball, which is set for release this summer at selected film festivals.
Cover photo: Al Bello/Getty Images Sport/Getty Images
|
|
|
