Cuban players face great risks chasing dream

Cuban players face great risks chasing dream
Aspiring big leaguers need not only talent -- they must successfully
defect first
By Jesse Sanchez / MLB.com | 8/16/2013 10:00 A.M. ET

GUERRA, Dominican Republic -- It's a breezy sun-kissed morning on a
palm-tree-lined back field at Campo Las Palmas, the Dominican home of
the Los Angeles Dodgers, and Alexander Guerrero looks just like a big
leaguer.

Guerrero, 26, tugs on his shiny new batting gloves, digs into the
batter's box with his black and orange cleats and stares down Javier
Rodriguez, the batting-practice pitcher who also serves as one of his
trainers.

The pitch is delivered and Guerrero smashes the ball deep over the fence
in left field, practically skimming the treetops of the complex's
dormitories. He takes off a blue batting helmet, wipes his brow and
smiles. Guerrero has style. He carries an extra set of perfectly placed
batting gloves in his back pockets just for show.

"I got that one," he said while snapping the top of his skin-tight blue
shirt. "Throw another one. I can do that all day."

Guerrero is on track to become the latest addition to a long line of
Cuban players in the big leagues. A recent surge in the number of
players from the island to Major League fields -- from Los Angeles to
Boston and Oakland to Miami -- has put the country back into the
international spotlight.

For every Yasiel Puig and Yoenis Cespedes, there is a Guerrero waiting
to be found. But for every Guerrero, there are dozens of players like
infielder Yosmany "El Congo" Guerra in the Dominican Republic who have
fallen through the cracks.

The Cuban baseball experience is a mixture of politics, passion and
sport, where the level of success varies greatly, but the levels of risk
are always the same: The escape from Cuba is fraught with peril and far
from a certain path to a future in the big leagues.

* * * * *
"I don't think at any time you have seen so many Cuban players come here
and have the kind of impact that they are having." -- longtime scout
Rudy Santin

There's an age-old adage that says the best Cuban ballplayers are not in
the Major Leagues, but back on the island playing for the country's
national team. In recent years, the adage has lost some of its mythical
status in part because the Dodgers' Puig has burst onto the scene in Los
Angeles, while Oakland's Cespedes blasted his way to the Chevrolet Home
Run Derby title at this year's All-Star Game in New York, and
Cincinnati's Aroldis Chapman is in his second year of lighting up radar
guns as the Reds' closer.

The 22-year-old Puig has made an immediate impact in Los Angeles while
simultaneously drawing the fury and admiration of the baseball world for
his take-no-prisoners playing style. Puig, who signed a seven-year deal
for $42 million last summer, is a five-tool player -- six, if you count
his attitude

Then there's Cespedes, 27, who signed a four-year, $36 million deal with
Oakland not long after defecting from Cuba in 2012. He's made a
reputation as the hard-working, humble family man of this new generation
of Cubans.

Chapman, who signed a six-year, $30.25 million deal in January 2010, is
the rebel of the group, but he's coming into his own in Cincinnati.
Marlins rookie Jose Fernandez, 21, is another Cuban player on the rise.
Fernandez and Chapman were National League All-Stars this year and among
the 17 Cuban players who have played in the Major Leagues this year.

There are other Cubans making their mark in the big leagues: Texas
outfielder Leonys Martin, White Sox teammates Dayan Viciedo and Alexei
Ramirez, Seattle's Kendrys Morales, Miami's Adeiny Hechavarria, Tampa
Bay's Yunel Escobar and shortstop Jose Iglesias, who was recently traded
from Boston to Detroit.

And there is another wave of Cuban players on the way. Cuban slugger
Jose Abreu, who hit .360 with three home runs and nine RBIs in six games
in this year's World Baseball Classic, reportedly defected from Cuba
earlier this week. He's a former MVP in Cuba, where he had one of the
best seasons in league history in 2010-11, hitting .453 with 33 home
runs and 93 RBIs in just 66 games. Various reports have placed Abreu,
26, in the Dominican Republic or Haiti.

"Until he gets his paperwork and takes care of everything he has to do,
it's not wise to say where he is," said Henry Urrutia, a longtime friend
of Abreu who defected from Cuba two years ago. "He has to take care of
himself. He tells me a lot of agents are interested in him. They know
there's a lot of money to be made with him, but he's deciding what to do
and what is best for him."

Also available is right-hander Miguel Alfredo Gonzalez, who had been
close to a deal with the Phillies but remains unsigned. Former Cuban
national squad teammate Dariel Hinojosa, a right-hander, is expected to
sign a multimillion-dollar deal soon. Odrisamer Despaigne, 26, a
right-hander, and 24-year-old left-hander Misael Silverio are among the
recent Cuban defectors expected to hit the free-agent market sometime
this year. There's also right-handed pitcher Leandro Linares, 19, who
recently signed with the Indians for $950,000.

"The Cuban player is at its peak," said former scout Rudy Santin, who
represents Guerrero. "I don't think at any time you have seen so many
Cuban players come here and have the kind of impact that they are
having. They are all starters, and some are making a big difference.
Some are contributing as everyday players. There's never been so many
contribute like that, and I was a scout for 30 years."

It's been more than two decades since right-hander Rene Arocha became
the first player to defect from Cuba's national team in 1991. He later
signed with the Cardinals and debuted in 1993 when he was 27 years old.
Brothers Livan and Orlando "El Duque" Hernandez followed their big
league dreams in 1995. "El Duque" was 32 when he made his big league
debut, and Livan was 21. Right-hander Jose Contreras defected in 2002
and was 31 when he made his debut with the Yankees the next year.

Decades earlier, Minnie Minoso helped integrate the Major Leagues in the
1950s. Players like Tony Perez, Luis Tiant, Tony Oliva and Camilo
Pascual left Fidel Castro's communist island and thrived in the big
leagues in the years that followed.

It was Esteban Bellan, who was born in Havana and attended college in
New York, who was the first Latin American to play Major League Baseball
in 1871. But the circumstances surrounding the Cuban market have changed
dramatically in the last decade, much less the last 142 years.

Just ask Guerrero or Guerra.

* * * * *
"My thing is baseball, but there was always the thought that I couldn't
be taken out of Cuba because my family was against the government and I
would defect." -- Cuban infield prospect Alexander Guerrero

Santin and Manny Paula, his business partner at MVP Sports Management
and Consulting Agency, can thank Uncle Tuto and his connections to
"Mafia" for Guerrero.

Tio Tuto was riding his bike in the parking lot of Sedano's Supermarket
in Miami when he overheard Santin and Paula talking baseball over coffee
and pastelitos in the outside café. The 60-something-year-old Tuto
proceeded to tell Santin -- well known in South Florida for signing
Latin players, including Mike Lowell -- that a relative named Edgar
"Mafia" Valdes was escaping Cuba with a group of men that included a
baseball star named Alexander Guerrero.

Nobody is sure of Tuto's last name or how he is related to Valdes, but
Santin and Paula figured it was worth a look.

"Manny looks [Guerrero] up and we are like, 'Wow, this guy is really
good,'" said Santin, 52, who, like Paula, was raised in Miami and is of
Cuban descent. "I call some of my scouting buddies to get a report, and
we got a lot of mixed reviews. But one thing that everybody told me is
that this guy could hit, and there was no question about it. Guerrero
called us when he got to Haiti, and the rest is history."

Guerrero's story actually begins in Cuba. It starts with his father,
Melquiade Guerrero, and his strong anti-communist and anti-Fidel Castro
demonstrations in the 1980s. Guerrero's older brother Mikail, who was
also a ballplayer, joined his father in an anti-government movement that
eventually cast a shadow over young Alexander.

"I was never too involved in politics, because my thing is baseball. But
there was always the thought that I couldn't be taken out of Cuba
because my family was against the government and I would defect,"
Guerrero, 26, said. "I always had to deal with that. I had incredible
years in Cuba, and I was doing things no other infielder had ever done.
But I was never one of the regular ones selected for the national team.
I went a couple of times, but I didn't play much and everybody was
watching me closely."

The 5-foot-11, 205-pound Guerrero began playing in La Serie Nacional,
the country's top amateur league, in 2009, and was an All-Star in 2010
and '11 with Las Tunas. In 2012, he hit .290 with 21 home runs and 51
RBIs, and he made a name for himself with his long home runs. Guerrero
was part of the team that won the title at the 2012 Haarlem Baseball
Week tournament in the Netherlands, but he felt slighted when he was the
only player from the championship team left off the Cuban team roster
for the 2013 World Baseball Classic.

A distraught Guerrero stepped away from baseball -- a sport that paid
him $17 a month -- for four months, and he plotted his escape with
Mikail and friends Yisuani Avila and Valdes. He left behind Anisley, his
wife of seven years, along with his 8-year-old son Enrique and
1-year-old daughter Alexandra when he departed on the clandestine
100-mile boat trip to Haiti in the middle of the night in January.

"The first thing you think of is your family, and then your safety,"
Guerrero said. "Nothing is certain when you leave. There's a 50 percent
chance you make it and a 50 percent chance you don't. Maybe you get
arrested or maybe you drown. It's worth the risk to make a better life
for yourself and your family, but it's a very hard decision."

Guerrero gained residency in Haiti in June, and he was granted free
agency by Major League Baseball in July. He trains six days a week with
Rodriguez, the third partner at MVP Sports Agency, during his stays in
the Dominican Republic. An armed guard is always in the background
nearby. Guerrero is waiting to be unblocked by the U.S. Department of
Treasury's Office of Foreign Assets Control (OFAC) before he can enter
into a contract with a Major League club.

"There's nothing to indicate that this is going to be any problem
whatsoever and that there will be an issue there," said Paula, whose
background is in risk management and insurance. "We have done everything
by the book. We contacted MLB and we told them it was the first time we
represented a Cuban national, and we want to make sure we do everything
right. I told them I'm going to be a pain in the butt and a pest,
because I want to make sure we are not doing anything illegal and we are
not doing anything wrong."

The Dodgers are considered the favorite to sign the infielder, but as
with all Cuban players, there is an element of risk and the unknown with
Guerrero.

"These guys are good, but they are not in the best shape of their lives
in Cuba, because there is no incentive," Santin said. "They leave Cuba
and come to the D.R., and the next thing you know, they are shredded
with muscles, because all they can focus on is baseball. Look at the
Cubans right when they get here and then a few months later: It's
stunning how much improvement they make when they are working toward a
goal. Alexander has a totally different body now."

When Santin, Paula and Rodriguez created MVP Sports Agency in 2011,
their goal was to scout teenage prospects and represent them during the
international signing period that begins each July 2. Tio Tuto and
"Mafia" changed all that.

"I really don't know where we'll get our next Cuban player, or if we
will get one," Santin said. "Between arranging workouts, the paperwork
and stuff you have to get done for them -- because they are essentially
big leaguers -- it takes a lot of time. I think it's worth it, but this
one basically fell on my lap."

One thing is certain: Guerrero's path from Cuba to the great unknown is
not a recent phenomenon. The current method of escaping the island is.
And it's not a good one.

* * * * *
"I don't question how a player leaves Cuba, because that's up to a
player, but I understand the situation they are in and I wish it was not
that way." -- agent Jaime Torres

International consultant and former player agent Joe Kehoskie said the
calls stopped coming about a year ago.

"I had no idea who they were or how they got my number, but the guys on
the other end were trying to sell me Cuban players so I could represent
them," said Kehoskie, who began working on the international market in
1998. "I never did one dollar worth of business with them, and they
learned that, so they stopped calling. I never lost an interest in
representing Cuban players, but I have zero interest in violating
federal laws."

For nearly two decades, Arocha's defection from the Cuban national team
during an international tournament in 1991 had been the blueprint for
other players on the island to follow.

Using that plan, a player would secretly approach an agent, or have
their friends or family do so, and arrange for representation before
defecting during an international tournament. Joe Cubas emerged as one
of the top agents on the market in the 1990s and successfully got
players like Livan Hernandez into the big leagues.

The system was not without risk for the player, or the agent. Juan
Ignacio Hernandez Nodar, Cubas' cousin, was arrested in 1996 for
smuggling players out of Cuba, and he served 13 years in a Cuban prison.
Just over a decade later, Gustavo "Gus" Dominguez was convicted in 2007
of paying to smuggle Cuban baseball players from the island to the U.S.
He was released in 2011.

As a result, agents have become reluctant to risk imprisonment to get
players out of Cuba, and so the business of escaping has become a much
darker enterprise.

"There used to be a small number of players that were smuggled, or they
would get to their destination on a boat, but it was no more than 20
percent," said Kehoskie, who is from upstate New York and lives in
Mexico's Yucatan Peninsula. "But now these networks operate as their own
agencies, going to find players and getting them out. It went from
smugglers being unheard of to guys who have a 90 percent share of the
market."

These days, most players escape Cuba by taking a boat and trying to make
it to the nearest port in Mexico or Haiti. Once there, they are placed
in a safe house where a front man makes calls on the player's behalf to
seek the highest bidder. Often, players are not released until the
carriers are compensated and reimbursed for the passage from Cuba. Some
players also sell a "percentage" of their future earnings to finance the
trip or for a cash advance as a means of surviving in the interim. Those
abetting the player's escape want to get their cut before turning him
over to an agent, and so sometimes they reach out to agents to make a deal.

"I have received those types of calls from people that want me to
represent Cuban players, and my response is that I don't represent
anyone but players," said agent Jaime Torres, who has been representing
Cuban players for the past 20 years. "I don't represent anyone who had
anything to do with getting a player out of Cuba. If a player talks to
me directly and tells me I should represent him, then I do. I have
refused to represent players because individuals that have contacted me
think that I will represent them, too."

Bart Hernandez, another prominent agent for Cuban players, said it is
customary for a defector's friends and family to reach out to his agency.

"I can't speak about other agents, but that's how we get clients,"
Hernandez said. "Once they are out, we try to reach out to them or they
contact us through other players."

Then comes the paperwork.

Any Cuban defector who wants to do business with an American company
must first establish residency outside Cuba and the United States, a
process that can take several months, depending on the country. Cuban
players must also petition for free agency from Major League Baseball
and be unblocked by OFAC before they can enter into a contract with a
Major League club. Unblocking can take several weeks.

Cuban players who are at least 23 years old and have played in a Cuban
professional league for three or more seasons are exempt from the
international signing guidelines established by the Collective
Bargaining Agreement, effectively making them free agents once they are
eligible to sign with a big league club.

"I don't question how a player leaves Cuba, because that's up to a
player, but I understand the situation they are in and I wish it was not
that way," Torres said. "I wish there was a way where a player can sign
out of Cuba and come into the States and play, and return to Cuba like
Venezuelans or other Latinos do.

"But since Cuban players are not allowed to come into the country
because of the U.S.-Cuban diplomatic relationship, they have no other
way but to find a way in. They do what they have to do and,
unfortunately, some of them have to deal with smugglers. Keep in mind
that they still have to have the tools and abilities. Nobody is going to
sign a player just because he is Cuban."

Guerra learned that lesson the hard way.

* * * * *
"I came to play baseball, because that's what I love. We'll just have to
see what happens in the future, but my life here is already better than
it would be back there." -- Yosmany Guerra

Never in his wildest dreams did Guerra imagine that he would spend years
toiling in a summer league made up of players released from big league
organizations and can't-miss prospects who missed badly. It's
inconceivable to him that he's been in the Dominican Republic for almost
five years and has only recently established his residency there, a
process that usually takes top Cuban players a few months to resolve.

There's still a part of Guerra that believes he should be a rich
ballplayer living his American Dream in the United States. Then there's
the reality: At this point, to make ends meet, he's willing to play in
leagues and tournaments with anyone willing to sign him.

"I still want to make it to the Major Leagues. That's my dream," Guerra
said. "I left Cuba for that. I didn't leave for this life. Imagine how I
feel."

On Sept. 24, 2008, Guerra and 22 other people risked their lives on a
four-day boat ride across the Caribbean from Cuba to Mexico. At the
time, he was a spry 25-year-old infielder with power and enough tools to
convince scouts that he could make it the big leagues. Standing at
5-foot-10 and weighing a solid 190 pounds, Guerra looked the part. He
was a star in Cuba's Serie Nacional for five seasons, spending four
seasons with the Metropolitanos in Havana and one with the Industriales,
considered one of the strongest teams in the league.

Guerra was also naïve.

Upon arriving in Mexico, he spent a few weeks near the Yucatan
Peninsula, while his handlers doctored his paperwork and brokered a deal
with a contact in the Dominican Republic. Guerra landed in the Dominican
city of Santiago on Oct. 23, 2008, with unauthorized residency papers
from Costa Rica.

"It was a disaster," said Guerra, who still lives in Santiago. "The guy
I was sold to didn't know baseball or the legalities of becoming
eligible. He was a car dealer, and he didn't know what he was doing. He
started the process, but it was all wrong and we wasted years trying to
figure out his mistakes.

"We were doing tryouts at the time, and lots of scouts came to see me,"
he continued. "They all saw me, and the workouts went great, but they
wanted to know about my documents, and the papers weren't there. My guy
kept saying he was working on it, but eventually the teams stopped
asking for me. Nobody looked for me anymore. I stopped working with the
car dealer, but it was too late. He had taken all of my money and I was
lost."

In August, Guerra will begin his fourth season as the starting shortstop
and three-hole hitter with the Granjeros de Moca under the guidance of
first-year manager Luis Polonia Jr., the son of former Major Leaguer
Luis Polonia. The infielder has reached out to professional leagues in
Nicaragua, Colombia and Mexico, but he's not sure if anything will come
of it.

"I don't think there was ever any doubt he could have been a Major
League player, but he made some tough decisions and he could never get
cleared," Polonia Jr. said. "He has a lot of talent and he's a
tremendous person, but it has not been easy for him. We would miss him
here, but there's a part of me that hopes he makes his dreams come true."

Guerra played briefly for the Aguilas Cibaenas, one of the most famous
Winter League teams in the Dominican Republic, but the experiment did
not last. He said he has no regrets.

"I left Cuba for a better life, to help my family, and I would do it
again. I came to play baseball, because that's what I love," Guerra
said. "We'll just have to see what happens in the future, but my life
here is already better than it would be back there."

Back at Campo Las Palmas, Guerrero wears a signature red Cuban baseball
cap with the white cursive "C" above the brim during workouts at the
Dodgers' complex. It's an exact replica of the cap worn during the 2013
World Baseball Classic by the Cuban national team, just like the one he
would have worn if he had been selected to participate.

Guerrero looks forward to the day when he can don a Major League cap. He
feels fortunate to have made it this far.

"My agent brought this Cuba cap from Miami. I had to pay for this,"
Guerrero said. "Imagine that. That's funny, isn't it?"

Jesse Sanchez is a national reporter for MLB.com. Follow him on Twitter
@JesseSanchezMLB. This story was not subject to the approval of Major
League Baseball or its clubs.

Source: "Cuban baseball players face great risks chasing dream of
playing in MLB | MLB.com: News" -
http://mlb.mlb.com/news/article.jsp?ymd=20130814&content_id=56838212&vkey=news_mlb&c_id=mlb