In stadiums where fans do the samba

By John Rieti

Havana's Industriales were crowned champions of Cuban baseball this week, no doubt touching off a big party for its fans — or Industrialistas, as they call themselves. It was a comeback victory for the team in blue, one I wouldn't have predicted after watching them get drummed in the first two games of the series last week. But that's baseball.

For a week in March I traveled to Cuba with a classmate to document the country's baseball culture. The material I gathered will be crafted into a major multimedia project, my journalism school’s version of a thesis.

A boy connects with a pitch outside of Estadio Latinoamericano in Havana, Cuba.

Baseball fans know the story well. Cuba produces some of the world’s best baseball players, evident in its triumphant wins at the Olympics and other international competitions. But the black mark on the Cuban game is the players who have left to compete in North America’s professional leagues.

Leaving the country is illegal for baseball players, and those who have left are unlikely to ever return, at least while the current government regime stays in power.

Some Cuban players have gone on to become major league stars, like brothers Livan and Orlando “El Duque” Hernandez, who both pitched their teams to World Series glory, or Angel slugger Kendry Morales.

And in the last year or two there’s been a surge in Cuban players leaving. Here in Toronto, the Jays are courting Adeinis Hechavarria, a 21-year-old shortstop from Santiago de Cuba.

Havana, from the window of a friend's apartment.

My hope for the project is that it will appeal to more than just baseball fanaticos. While these players may have hero status in their country, they live the same way as other Cubans.

We stayed in Havana, not the booze-soaked beaches of tourist hotspot Varadero, and spent several days roaming the city with friends and sources. In a country as complex as Cuba, almost every conversation we had could have produced a story.

Riding the bus with an Industriales fan, we told him we were still confused about a lot of what we learned. He laughed, and told us we were trying to figure out in a week what he hasn’t been able to figure out during his entire life on the island.

A Cuban man collects empty cans ad bottles in a cart adorned with gun-toting, cigarette-smoking dolls.

It’s been more than 50 years since the Cuban revolution, and while this history is still tangible on the streets there‘s less fresh propaganda. The government is officially socialist now, led by Fidel Castro’s brother Raul. Army and police officers are a common sight, but they hassle Cubans less, our sources tell us.

Cuba still provides its citizens with food – chicken or fish, rice, coffee and milk – but many told us they want more, which they have to buy themselves. In Cuba, everyone is required to work, but seemingly everyone does something on the side to get by.

For players, baseball could be a way to get by or it could be a way out. But the decision to leave is not an easy one. That decision is what I’m interested in.

My final project isn’t scheduled to be published until August, but if you’d like to get in touch, or have any tips for me, please get in touch at jrieti@gmail.com or on Twitter @johnrieti.

Until then, Star readers, keep reading Morgan Campbell's (@MorganPCampbell) outstanding coverage of these players and baseball in general.

Some classic Cuban propaganda spotted from one of Havana's buses.

John Rieti is a Toronto Star radio room reporter and studies in the Master of Journalism program at Ryerson University.

Comments

[Morgan Campbell]

Nice work john. Can't wait to see how the project turns out. I keep hearing our guy Adeinis is THIS CLOSE to officially signing with the Jays, but I'll keep you informed. White Sox in town this week. You better get to the park.