Joe Biden Cuba policy: Politicians are fickle. But at least there's always baseball.
The first time visited Cuba, it got under my skin. There is a lot to criticize about the regime — but a lot to love about their baseball.
We hadn’t even cleared customs in Havana when a plainclothesman fell into step alongside me. What brings me back to Cuba, he asked.
Typical Havana, I thought to myself. They already know I’m here.
I’ve been visiting Cuba for 30 years, focusing upon baseball. In 1991, I covered an exhibition series between the United States and Cuban Olympic squads for USA TODAY International. The American roster sported such future major leaguers as Jeffrey Hammonds, Phil Nevin and Nomar Garciaparra. Despite such promise, they were trounced by Team Cuba, which had Omar Linares, the best player American fans never got to see play on a regular basis.
Cuba, especially beisbol, got under my skin, and I’ve been to the island three times since then. One of those visits was in 1999 for the exhibition game between the Baltimore Orioles and Team Cuba, and among the media covering that series was the late Pedro Gomez, who died Sunday, Feb. 7. His family fled the island just before he was born, and Pedro and I were once on the baseball beat for rival newspapers in the Bay Area.
Play ball — in sports and policy
In conversations with Pedro, former ESPN radio host Dan Le Batard and former major-league pitcher Luis Tiant, I’ve learned much about the star-crossed relationship between the U.S. and Cuba. How so many had to leave family, their very roots, due to political dysfunctionality and regime corruption.
The Biden administration announced in January it would review U.S. policy on Cuba. While the COVID-19 pandemic, climate change and the economy top the new president’s long list of issues, few are more divisive than Cuba.
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On my last trip, in January 2017, change was in the air on the island. Despite the questioning at the airport arrival — Who are you seeing? How much money are you carrying? — when we spoke with everyday Cubans, they were upbeat about the future. The Tampa Bay Rays had played in another baseball exhibition in Havana the year before. Reservations for Airbnb were exploding. And many quizzed us about the incoming U.S. president — Donald Trump. As a businessman, many Cubans expected him to expand the friendlier relations that had begun under the Obama administration.
Of course, matters soon moved in the opposite direction. The number of flights between the U.S. and Cuba were drastically reduced. In an 11th hour decision, the Trump administration designated Cuba as a state sponsor of terror, reversing an Obama-era decision.
What it takes to escape
Yet if sports offer us any guidance, it’s that the ties that bind can extend beyond politics and the latest edict from on high. A recent documentary, "The Last Out," follows three Cuban ballplayers as they try to win a spot on a major-league roster. Gone are the days when the top prospects like pitcher Orlando “El Duque” Hernandez, risked their lives by crossing the Florida Straits on raft or boat.
Today, they may find their way to a third country, perhaps spirited off the island with the help of Mexican crime syndicates. Such was the case with Yasiel Puig. From a third country, such as Costa Rica, they can showcase themselves for professional scouts.
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The three Cuban ballplayers in "The Last Out" — Happy Oliveros, Carlos Gonzalez and Victor Baro — didn’t leave home in such a grand style. But they were as determined as Hernandez or Puig to one day reach El Norte.
After Oliveros failed to sign with a big-league team, he under took a treacherous journey through Central America and Mexico to arrive at the U.S. border. He now lives in Texas.
“Ultimately, our film is about immigrants,” said Sami Khan, who directed "The Last Out" with Michael Gassert. “The lengths people will go to better their lives, to try and help their families.”
We have baseball in common
On this last trip to Cuba, we daily had breakfast with our landlady, an elderly woman. She owned a honeycombed network of rooms that she rented out on the 11th floor of a Soviet-style building on the west side of Havana.
She told us that she grew up on the eastern end of the island, not far from where I’d first seen the Cuban national team play 30 years ago. The illegitimate daughter of a rich land baron and her servant mother, she ran off to join Fidel Castro’s army when she was barely a teenager. A few years later, she entered the Cuban capital marching in their ranks.
She sometimes watches Cuban baseball on television and once wanted to visit the United States. While that dream faded long ago and Cuba has fallen on more hard times, she remains guardedly optimistic about the future.
Yes, the politicians are powerful, she told us, but one day we’ll all be together. Americans, Cubans, everyone.
Tim Wendel is the author of “Escape from Castro’s Cuba,” the sequel to his novel “Castro’s Curveball.”
