By Jason Daniels.
It is rare that our staff has the opportunity to visit the heart of the Caribbean to cover European baseball, despite the fact that dozens of teenagers from Europe first experience pro ball in the Dominican Republic. In this case, two of Europe’s brightest talents are developing their trade in the D.R.. Intrigued to learn more about this baseball-mad culture and how its European prospects are faring, I took a trip this past June to find out more.
***
On the eastern outskirts of Santo Domingo, MLB academies come into view one-by-one, like sprawling, misplaced country clubs.
To the vast majority of Dominicans passing by, these outposts are untouchable, and the contrast with local life is a startling reminder of the hopes and dreams — as well as grounding realities — in a nation where many still grapple with abject poverty.
The “American Dream” is what everyone wants, one woman from Gualey – Santo Domingo’s poorest slum – tells me earlier in the week. For young boys across the country, MLB academies have come to represent a brighter future and ticket off the island. Many infants are gifted a glove and bat as their first toys in the hope that one day they might attract a lucrative deal and achieve that dream.
High stakes have long existed on the island. In the 1970s, after MLB introduced free agency and its teams expanded westward, clubs began turning to international free agents with vigor to stockpile future talent. Young players were cheaper to sign abroad, and in places like the Dominican Republic, there was plenty of talent.
To this day, a hallmark of Dominican baseball has been resourcefulness. Youth have long used socks and rocks as balls, sugar cane sticks as bats, and cardboard milk cartons as gloves. Vitilla, a street game with a bottle cap and a broom stick, is what all Dominicans boys grow up playing. A casual fan from Santo Domingo with whom I spoke states rather simply that vitilla is how Vladimir Guerrero became a Hall-of-Famer: learn to square up tiny, slurving caps flicked anywhere within wingspan, and crushing baseballs thrown at your shoelaces is easy by comparison.
***
Riding northbound through San Antonio de Guerra, the Guardians’ academy passes to our right: twenty-two acres of newly minted campus. A bit further along, the Rays’ plush complex comes into sight. A beautiful brick façade, reinforced by tall columns, sends a clear message from the street: the small-market Rays are after competitive advantage and betting big on Dominican talent.
The Rays are not alone in their thinking and the roots of this approach stretch back four decades. Realizing this in 1987, the Dodgers became the first MLB organization to establish an academy on the island. The Rays have since placed their facility directly next door. Today, all MLB teams maintain a sizable footprint in the area.
Over the years, the Dodgers have arguably been the most successful MLB club at attracting and producing international talent. They continue to redefine geographic norms and cultural intersections. Today, in their Campo Las Palmas academy, on each of their two Dominican Summer League (DSL) teams, they are developing not just young Latin American standouts, but budding European arms.
Chickens are not the first thing I expect to see as I walk through the academy front gates. A security guard checks me in, then guides me through the main artery of Campo Las Palmas, the streets lined with stunning palm trees, the main field manicured to perfection. He says it is the biggest and nicest academy in the country, and I have no reason to doubt it.
Home to both Dodger DSL teams, roughly 100 players, and dozens of coaches and staff, the complex boasts three and a half fields, weight and training areas, classrooms and social spaces, offices and housing, and a mix of other facilities totaling 100,000 square feet across 70 acres. It has all the makings of a village.
At the far end of the community, players start to shuffle out of the training room on this warm and sticky Saturday morning. In 30 minutes, the two Dodgers teams will do battle against one another at Manny Mota Field.
The DSL season runs from June to August, so I have caught the teams early in the season. “Opening Day” is still painted on the field’s lawn. Dominican baseball icon Nelson Cruz, a beloved ambassador of the game, visited for the occasion. But as much as it is about pomp and circumstance, this point in the season is about acquainting young players to pro ball and instilling the Dodger way.
Carrying the torch is Facility Manager Jesús Negrette. Just before first pitch, Negrette climbs up the third-base bleachers to welcome me to “the Taj Mahal” – as he puts it – of Dominican academies. Poised, professional, and unfalteringly friendly, Negrette is both the complex boss and its benevolent provost.
A native of the Santiago region in the country’s north, Negrette first worked with the Padres before moving to the Dodgers several years ago. In the DSL off-season, he doubles as an administrator of baseball operations for the Dominican Winter League team, Las Estrellas Orientales, of San Pedro de Macorís. San Pedro, an hour drive to the east, is home to baseball stars Sammy Sosa, Robinson Canó, Fernando Tatís Jr., and a disproportionate number of big leaguers for a small, impoverished seaside city. For Macorisanos, baseball is in their blood.
Negrette is well-versed on local and international baseball. He tells me about the Dominican league and its academies, opining that the DSL league, comprised of 51 teams, is ripe for change. He thinks that MLB will eventually limit the number of teams in the league given some organizations (like the Dodgers) have two teams, while others have just one. The trajectory of signing bonuses, however – a transformational factor influencing baseball in this country – he does not expect will change.
The way it works is that before Dominican boys sign with MLB teams, often once they are eligible at the age of 16, they go through a trainer system designed for the sole purpose of getting players signed. For all intents and purposes, this means two possible paths: learn to hit or throw the ball as hard as you can. The rest can be dealt with later. Either is a ticket off the island.
Trainers, also known as buscones, prioritize these abilities and identify prospects around their early teenage years, though sometimes younger. Trainers often house, feed, clean, nurture, and provide for prospects – in addition to training them as ballplayers – with the agreement (verbal or written) that if the player signs, part of that bonus will go to the trainer to cover costs and the chance taken to train that player. Negrette says a 50 percent cut is normal.
For years, the trainer system has garnered significant backlash for its largely unregulated structure and exploitative nature that can accompany minors. Some players are simply seen as prized commodities for the taking. Even after increased regulation in recent years, stories have come to light where trainers steal bonuses, sign players under the table before they are teenagers, or guide them astray with poor advice at unrecoverable cost. Negrette feels at some point – like as has happened with Puerto Rico – that the international draft may come to the Dominican Republic.
However, Negrette points out that while imperfect, the current system is effective because it offers a level of process and predictability. Without trainers, academies would operate in a haphazard world already devoid of standard Little League structure or formal systems of play. With trainers, there is at least efficiency as teams need not comb the entire country to uncover who is good enough to scout. The trainers have a network, are knowledgeable, and bring the tryouts to MLB teams. Many on the island – players included – feel the payoff is worth it.
***
Read the second article in this three-part series here.
All photos courtesy Jason Daniels.