I AM NOT EXAGGERATING, David Ortiz, if he wanted to, could run for the presidency of the Dominican Republic. Yes… sir. And I clarify, these are far from being my figurations. A group of journalists from the Caribbean nation asked him on Saturday, before entering the old, but impeccable building that houses the Hall of Fame, if among his future plans he was thinking of going into politics. He said no, but I repeat, if he wanted to, he could do it. Ortiz’s media reach and popularity “among the tigers that are mine” is impressive, perhaps as solid as the legendary hits that took him to the temple of the immortals. Dominican colleagues assured that there was more press following Ortiz’s exaltation than there usually is to cover the nation’s president. Another colleague was more cautious, but not far from that assumption, when he pointed out that “Papi received presidential treatment from the Dominican media”.
DAVID ORTIZ took over Cooperstown, but the Dominican Republic’s tigers were the perfect partner for the exaltation weekend. Ortiz was the reason that brought them together, let’s say their God, their creed. And the tigueres did not fail him. The phrase “K lo K (which means it is what it is or what it is)” was the most heard phrase during this weekend in which more than a few locals rented their homes and migrated to avoid the hustle and bustle that comes along, as every year, with the Hall of Fame activities. If there is usually a hustle and bustle in Cooperstown around this time, this time multiply it by the square. But the phrase that best illustrates what happened between July 22 and 24 in the small town in the state of New York was launched by, who else, the oldest player, David Ortiz, who said in one of the many meetings with the media “We (Dominicans) are going to make such a fuss that no one else will accept us here”. He only had to drop the microphone as Kobe Bryant once did.
DOMINICAN REPUBLIC now has four members in the Hall of Fame, coincidentally, all voted by the Baseball Writers Association of America (BBWAA): Juan Marichal who opened the door in 1983. He then received 313 votes out of 374. Next, figuratively speaking why it took 32 years for the exaltation of Pedro Martinez in 2015 with 500 out of 549 votes cast. Three years later Vladimir Marrero entered with 500 of 549 votes and finally Ortiz (307 of 394 votes), who also became the first designated hitter to make it into Cooperstown in his first year of eligibility. His four plaques are part of the 268 of players installed on the walls of Cooperstown, where only one percent of the players who have played in the Major Leagues for more than a century and a half have reached.
TAKING ADVANTAGE of the presence of important Dominican communicators, I inquired about their vision of how most Dominicans would define the four horses that are in Cooperstown. To get an exact notion, or at least close to reality, I asked Dionisio Soldevila, Editor in Chief of Diario Libre, and Enrique Rojas, ESPN reporter, to complete the phrase El MÁS…. And this was their answer El MÁS, how Dominicans see the four Dominican horses that are already immortalized. This was their response. “Juan Marichal the most respected. Pedro Martínez the most followed. Vladimir the most reserved. And David Ortiz the most popular.
THE THURSDAY before the exaltation I understood why Big Papi is such a beloved guy in the Dominican Republic and the United States. An informal dinner reaffirmed what many who have dealt with him personally affirmed: “Papi is an incredible human being. Being at the next table, and in one of those rare moments of silence that are not abundant when a troop of Dominicans gathers, I approached him and took the audacity to speak on behalf of Cubans who love baseball. I told him: “Cubans do not love you”. Papi was surprised…, but he immediately replied as if he were an English lord, but with a Caribbean accent: “There are many Cubans who love me”.
AFTER NAMING several players and former players of Cuban origin, I asked him if he remembered the I World Classic (2006) when the Dominican Republic played against Cuba in the second round at the Hiram Birthorn in Puerto Rico and he hit a home run to pitcher Jonder Martinez, who has not yet fallen and his “perreo” is probably the most intense, spectacular and remembered in the recent history of Cuban baseball. Papi started laughing, as if he had had a flashback, and immediately told me in detail what had happened. According to Papi, the Cuban catcher (Ariel Pestano) asked for a pitch and the pitcher said no, hit his chest defiantly and repeated the same pitch that had surprised him moments before. That annoyed him a lot and made him pay. He recalled that while running the bases, Pestano shouted in annoyance to his pitcher: “hey (expletive), you don’t know that’s Big Papi”. The next day, in an exclusive interview coordinated with ESPN, Papi arrived at the hotel and I thought he wasn’t even going to remember my face. To my surprise he threw me a jovial, “hey, Cuba…, K lo K”.
And CUBA WAS well present in the Class of 2022. Tony Oliva and Orestes ‘Minie’ Miñoso completed the triad of Latin Americans honored this year along with Big Papi. Both Oliva, 84, and Miñoso, who passed away in 2015, were inducted through the Veterans Committee. Oliva, a native of Pinar del Río province, west of Havana, shined with the Minnesota Twins in the 1960s and part of the 1970s. While Miñoso, from Matanzas, east of the Cuban capital, was a stellar figure of the Chicago White Sox in the 50’s and part of the 60’s, besides being the first black Latino to break the racial barrier. Between the two of them they participated in 21 All-Star games, 13 Miñoso and 8 Oliva. Both were erected a statue in Chicago and Minnesota, respectively, and became the fifth and sixth exalted players, joining José de la Caridad Méndez (2006), Cristobal Torriente (2006), Tany Pérez (2000) and Martín Dihigo (1977). In addition to these, relaysman Felo Ramírez and executive Alex Pompez also have their niche in Cooperstown.
Unfortunately, Miñoso was not able to see this recognition during his lifetime. Oliva did, and he had the satisfaction of sharing it with the family he formed in the United States and his brother, Juan Carlos Oliva -who was a member of the powerful Cuban national teams of the 1970s and 1980s- who received a visa to travel with his wife from the island. “My heart is always in Cubita,” Oliva repeated in several interviews. He also thanked the city of Minnesota that welcomed him and was the place where he built a career and a family. His humility reached such a point that he dedicated his exaltation speech, more to talking about others and asking for the immortalization of his compatriot Luis Tiant, than about himself. “Who was going to tell this little guajirito that he was going to come out of a farm in Cuba and have a statue in Minnesota,” he said during the festivities. I would add, a statue in Minnesota and a plaque in Cooperstown.
I CLOSE WITH CONTRASTS. The Dominican media not only invaded Cooperstown to follow one of its prodigal sons. They told hundreds of stories about Big Papi. The same thing happened two years ago, during the exaltation of Puerto Rican Edgar Martinez and Panamanian Mariano Rivera. Unfortunately, Oliva and Miñoso could not tell anything similar from their homeland. Until the early morning of Monday, July 25, not a single sentence was published in the three official newspapers with the largest circulation and circulation (Granma, Juventud Rebelde and Trabajadores) about the exaltation of these two great pillars of Cuban baseball who shone in the most powerful league in the world.
