Another Baseball Story

This article was referenced in the previous post.

It does a great job of shedding light on the challenges many Latin players face when they arrive in America.

An excerpt -

I’m trying to hand the phone to my teammates and they’re looking at it like it’s a bomb. I go to toss it to one of them and he puts his hands up.

“No, no.”

I go to hand it to another guy and he shakes his head. I look around the room and all five guys are looking at me like I’m crazy.

I’m finally like, “Will somebody just order this freaking pizza?”

Nobody wanted to take the phone. I couldn’t figure out what was going on. It was my first night at extended spring training in Bradenton, Florida, after getting drafted. I had spent all day signing paperwork, so it was about 7 p.m. and the cafeteria was closed. I started walking to my car to go grab some fast food when I heard a familiar sound coming from one of the dorm rooms: Spanish with the Dominican accent. I popped in to introduce myself and started talking with the guys. One of them mentioned he was starving. I’m like, “Didn’t they feed you guys?” They explained to me that the last meal is at 5 p.m. and they always got hungry again at night. These were young minor leaguers making next to nothing. They didn’t have a car, so they had gotten really good at hoarding extra stuff from the cafeteria at dinner and taking it back to the dorm room — bananas, PB&J sandwiches, Snickers bars, whatever.

Since I was the new guy and I had just signed my first deal, I thought it would be nice for me to order pizza for everybody. This was 2001, so no online ordering. I found a place in the phone book and I was like, “Alright, I don’t know what toppings you guys like on your pizza, so you call it in and order whatever you want.”

That’s when the guys started looking at me funny. I dial the number and I’m trying to hand the phone off. Blank stares.

Finally, one of the guys said, all embarrassed, “Man, we don’t speak English. You better call or it’s going to take all six of us passing the phone around to know enough English words to order.”

That was a reminder of just how tough it is for Latin American players to overcome the language barrier and make it in Major League Baseball. If you’re reading this as an American with a good job, imagine you’re 17 years old again, just starting to chase your dream. Only you’re in China. You’re away from everyone you know. You have three years to prove to people you can make it in your job. Oh, and all your managers speak Chinese. They give you a room with three other Americans and the only thing in it is toilet paper.

And you don’t even speak enough of the language to be able to order a pizza.

http://www.theplayerstribune.com/jose-bautista-dominican-baseball-prospects-mlb/