The Eastern Stars - Mark Kurlansky [84]
He started working as a coach for José Canó, training teenage prospects for a share of their signing bonuses. He worked with them every morning and seemed to enjoy the work. But the brother who didn’t play baseball and worked as a mechanic seemed to be better off than the shortstops. One of their sisters managed to put her son through the local medical school. So there was hope.
“I’m still here,” said Manuel, still lean because he never got American-fed, but tall and fit. “I’m still alive. I have a life. And I have two sons who are going to be big.” His son Alexis, still small at thirteen—he hadn’t had his teenage growth spurt yet—already had a good swing and was developing his hands in the family trade: playing shortstop.
“Are you going to be a pro?” he was asked.
“Yes,” he said matter-of-factly. Manuel and the entire family were hoping, but they knew that this was a dream that could vanish without warning in an instant. Manuel had come to see life differently. “They say a man who has no money is nothing, but I don’t believe that. If you are a good person and you work hard, you are not nothing.”
The Education of a Center Fielder
The highway east from Porvenir that goes out to the cane fields of La Romana is intersected by dirt roads. This is suburban sprawl Dominican style: a maze of uncharted, unpaved roads on which new houses—small concrete blocks with sheets of corrugated metal for roofs—have been built, painted turquoise or sky blue, with shrubs and gardens around them. An American might look at such a neighborhood of small blocks with tin roofs off dirt streets that turn muddy when it rains and think this is a slum. But in the Dominican Republic, a land that lacks a middle class, this is considered a middle-class neighborhood.
In one such neighborhood, Barrio Buenos Aires, there was a typical house, a bit better maintained than some of the neighbors’, with a motor scooter and a shiny SUV parked safely out front behind a steel gate on which the Cleveland Indians logo was carefully hand-painted. Both the SUV and the logo said that Major League Baseball had come to this home. This was the home of the Abreus.
Enrique was a construction worker. When he finished a project, he had to find another, and often there were weeks of unemployment in between. Senovia was the principal of a colegio, a private institution that offered grade school through high school. Despite the late-model SUV and large stereo equipment, theirs was a modest home with small rooms and a corrugated metal roof.
In 2007 their oldest son, Abner, a shortstop, signed with the Cleveland Indians for $350,000—more than an average bonus. The size of the bonus was important not only for the money but as a reflection of the organization’s commitment. A $350,000 signing bonus indicated that the Indians were excited about this young shortstop.
But the Abreu home, aside from the logo on the gate and the things they had bought, was not about baseball: it was about education. Their little windowless living room, cooled, when the electricity was working, by wall-mounted fans, proudly displayed pictures of their sons in caps and gowns for various graduations, rather than suited up for baseball. A place of pride went to a plaque awarded to Abner for his honors performance. In recognition of academic achievement, it said. Abner was studying at the Universidad Central del Este but dropped out to sign.
Major League Baseball was finding out that Dominican parents were upset that their sons were giving up their educations for baseball contracts. This was partly because the families had come to understand that even though their sons had signed, they were not likely to have major-league careers. Charlie Romero said, “Baseball is such a big thing here. A lot of kids don’t care about school if they can get signed. But their parents come here and say, ‘He doesn’t want to go to school anymore. He just wants to play baseball.’”
The Tampa Bay Rays started putting a clause in their contract stating that if a Dominican player was released, they would pay