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At last we meet Castro, Cubans finally get shot at major leaguersPosted: Monday March 29, 1999 08:31 AM
HAVANA (AP) -- He walked onto the field like he owned the place, straight and tall and with a purpose, this old University of Havana right-hander. And by the time Fidel Castro had cut across the diamond to meet them Sunday, the Baltimore Orioles could tell this meant far more than any spring training game they had ever played. "Fi-del! Fi-del!" the 50,000 fans chanted at Estadio Latinoamericano at the sight of their president. "Cu-ba! Cu-ba!" Albert Belle, Brady Anderson and the rest of the Orioles gathered around the 73-year-old leader to shake hands, curious to see how he looked up close in his combat fatigues. Manager Ray Miller talked to Castro through an interpreter. "We know this is history," pitcher Scott Kamieniecki said before Baltimore played a Cuban all-star team. "This is a once-in-a-lifetime thing." By local standards, it was rather tame, too, until the late innings. While Cuban defectors such as Orlando "El Duque" Hernandez, Livan Hernandez and Rey Ordonez had left and found fame in the majors, no one on the Communist island had seen a big league team visit since 1959. "For many years, we have been trying to have this match," star Cuban third baseman Omar Linares said through a translator. "I'm very emotional about it." Tickets were issued on an invitation-only basis, ensuring the stands would be packed with loyal Castro supporters. In fact, many were in their seats three hours before gametime. But that left out many of Cuba's most passionate pelota fans, along with a lot of traditional touches. Missing for most of the sunny afternoon were the drums, sirens, air horns, singing, dancing and rumba music that enveloped the ballpark from the first pitch during Saturday night's playoff game between the Havana Industriales and Santiago. No cheerleaders in black spandex jumped on top of the dugouts, no ballgirls served coffee to the umpires during the fifth-inning break. Even the 53-year-old stadium was spruced up -- gone were the wild dogs that usually roam the concourse, hoping for bits of the pork-leg sandwiches sold at concession stands. The fans did, however, follow the custom of counting to 10 -- the way a referee counts a fallen boxer -- when Baltimore reliever Arthur Rhodes was chased in the eighth inning. Then there was the traditional first ball. Actually, former Washington Senators pitcher Connie Marrero threw four of them, then two more to Anderson when he led off the game. Charles Johnson's two-run homer off Cuban ace Jose Ibar in the second kept things quiet until the home rallied in the late innings and it got loud. Belle's power in batting practice drew a standing ovation and rhythmic applause. "The people who go to the stadium every day cannot go," complained Omar Ramirez, 32. "Why? Why?" A few blocks away, though, little boys were undaunted. With nothing more than rotted sticks for bats and rolled-up socks for balls, they kept playing Cuba's national sport. They did it while dodging DeSotos and Ford Fairlanes, banged-up cars with big tailfins from the 1950s. Inside the park, the Orioles and Cubans played beneath big outfield signs that proclaimed "Socialist Cuba Sports" and "Sports for the People." The billboards that preach "Remember the Revolution" and "Antimperialistas" on the road the Orioles took in from the airport. Castro had not been out to the stadium for several years, but was determined not to miss this chance, especially since he won't be accompanying the Cuban team when it plays at Baltimore's Camden Yards on May 3. He spent about two minutes greeting the Orioles before visiting with the Cubans, and watched the game while sitting between major league commissioner Bud Selig and Orioles owner Peter Angelos. Once a Triple-A hotspot when the Havana Sugar Kings ruled, the Caribbean island had not seen a big league club since March 21, 1959, right after Castro took power. On that day at the very same ballpark, with guards strolling with machine guns, Sandy Koufax struck out eight as Los Angeles beat Cincinnati 2-1. Since then, it's been a blackout and blockade for Cuban fans trying to follow major league ball. The 1963 Trading With the Enemy Act forbid most Americans from spending money in Cuba. Despite Angelos' efforts for several years -- he said he was driven by sportsmanship -- only President Clinton's recent relaxing of restrictions against Cuba made this game possible. The American government, however, has stressed that these two exhibitions are not a matter of sports diplomacy, such as the table tennis matches with China in the 1970s. Rather, these are considered "people-to-people" contacts, much like those conducted with Cuban artists and academics. Even so, these games drew protests in the United States. Several members of Congress opposed them, and Florida Marlins owner John Henry joined a protest outside the Orioles' spring camp in Fort Lauderdale, Fla. Orioles pitcher Juan Guzman, who was born in the Dominican Republic and employs several Cuban domestics at his home in Miami, asked out of the trip. "There are a lot of issues that people are dealing with," said Johnson, the Orioles catcher. "They are issues that are above my head that I can't even discuss." Linares, considered Cuba's best player at 32, was not concerned, for good reason. "I'm not aware of any criticism," he said.
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