WBC: Through his eyes

The Puerto Rican team celebrates with fans

after 6-5 win over U.S. March 17.

(Photo Ed Piper, Jr.)

By Ed Piper, Jr.

If you're sick of reading about the World Baseball Classic and want to read about La Jolla High sports, don't read this entry.

My eyes for the Puerto Rican team in the WBC Friday night, March 17 (St. Patrick's Day, which isn't celebrated in Latin cultures), was a young man, Jonathan, about 30, who drove from his home in Phoenix during the day to attend the weekend games at Petco Park.

Speaking limited but adequate English, Jonathan gave me a sense, feel, enjoyment for someone else's passion for baseball and his favorite players.

One thing he told me, during our game-long conversation initiated by me and in which we saved seats for each other while the other went to the bathroom or concessions stand, was that U.S. starting pitcher Marcus Stroman's mother implored him to play for her native Puerto Rican team.

I thought that was a fantastic story, and insight into the mixed loyalties that baseball players--and humans--experience. Ms. Stroman's wish didn't get granted, because her son told her it was his dream to play for the U.S. team in the Classic, he having been born in New York.

Stroman, being paid back for his disobedience to his mother's request, started the game by giving up six straight singles to the first six Boricua (nickname for Puerto Rican) hitters, allowing four runs. The U.S. never came back from that disastrous start.

I told Jonathan during the course of the nine-inning game that I saw Roberto Clemente, a legendary player from Puerto Rico, play in person at Dodger Stadium when the Pirates played the Dodgers when I was a kid. He seemed pretty impressed by that.

We kept our exchanges in English, though I speak Spanish, because he indicated he wanted to continue that way, which is a basic thing in these cross-cultural encounters. At one point he struggled to indicate a certain Puerto Rican often played designated hitter, so I asked, "What is it in Spanish?" and he answered, bateador designado. That was the only foray we took into espanol, other than some words or phrases that came up randomly.

A point of enjoyment for me was that I celebrated both Puerto Rican and U.S. players' accomplishments, so I think he could see I wasn't merely for one side or anti-Puerto Rican in my rooting. I did yell when a U.S. player did something significant. It made it more fun, instead of being neutral and getting bored.

Jonathan knows baseball, so that heightened our exchanges. When Brandon Crawford drove in runs in the ninth inning that brought the U.S. within a run of Puerto Rico, Jonathan called it right then: third baseman Carlos Correa clearly tagged out Crawford before he made it to third, though the umpire's call was safe. Replays showed Crawford should have been called out.