I was born in 1993 in the Dominican Republic. More specifically, I lived my early years in a campo of Cotui in the province of Sanchez Ramirez near the center of the island. If you look up satellite pictures of Cotui on Google Maps, you’ll see some nice things. That isn’t where I’m from. You see, my native country is much closer to a third world country than many of us are willing to admit. There’s a lot of poverty.
One of my most vivid memories—and probably why I’m posting this on a Cubs-centric site today—is swinging a stick at rocks, bottles, cans, or (when we could get away with it) two socks rolled up so tightly that it resembled a baseball, in my grandmother’s backyard after watching Sammy Sosa and Mark McGwire in the 1998 home-run race. Thank goodness I made the right decision.
This is how the great majority of kids in the Dominican Republic live. We don’t have access to proper baseball equipment, much less programs such as Little League.
That is, until the magic day arrives for the chosen few.
My parents are hardworking people and I can’t thank them enough for what they have done for my siblings and me. Just before my seventh birthday, I came to Philadelphia to live with my parents. I have been here ever since. I have grown up as an American myself. Like any other American kid, I look forward to my birthday in April and Christmas in December. In the Dominican Republic though, Christmas is in July.
No, we aren’t some weird culture that doesn’t understand the birth of Christ. I say Christmas is in July because it is signing day—and to the families of those talented enough to sign, that is worth much, much more.
Back to the DR.
You’ve likely heard the accounts of players and seen it on documentaries. I won’t talk anymore about the poverty; it’s a problem. And when these 15 and 16-year-olds sign this July, many families will get a financial respite that may just save their lives.
It really will be Christmas in July in the Dominican Republic next week. It puts a smile on my face because I’ve seen what that money does to the families over there. So when I see people get upset over the money these kids get, it hits a soft spot.
I just used up 400 words in the introduction. I’m sorry. I swear I’ll get to the point now.
The Prospect of an International Draft
There is an old episode of The George Lopez Show in which his daughter’s boyfriend is being scouted out of high school. The scout is noticing that the kid is playing tough to sign, so he says something along the lines of, “I could just go to the Dominican Republic and sign three shortstops for a sack of potatoes.” It was cheap humor, but I couldn’t help but feel some truth behind it.
Now teams spend a ton of money on players. It’s become common to call for a draft to rectify the problem of one team hogging up all of the talent, the way it works in the United States. I don’t have a solution for this. I won’t even tell you that installing a draft would be a bad thing in the long run. What I will tell though is a list of (admittedly heartfelt) reasons why I am opposed to one:
- Coaches, who act as trainers and agents, would be out of a job
- Kids from rural areas won’t get any exposure and thus their families wouldn’t benefit from the signing bonus
- There aren’t many organized leagues on the island, so game action is rare
- Greedy owners will find a way to exploit the proposed draft, just as they have the First-Year Rule 4 draft
The Truth About Their Lives
International prospects begin their professional careers at the raw age of 17 years old, according Dominican Summer League rules. If they aren’t 17 or older when they sign, they spend the rest of age 16 in an academy working on their English and whatever else the organization wants to teach them. But the sad truth is this: That’s probably the most schooling they have had in years.
As the years have gone on, a greater stress has been put on keeping these kids in school while they train for July 2nd. Those players, though, have to be lucky to already have the support of a family that’s well off financially. Otherwise, a great number leave their education behind to focus on baseball.
Take the case of Juan Ramirez (that isn’t his name, but I’d like to keep his identity anonymous for obvious reasons), a 14-year-old I met earlier this month. Juan is visiting the United States with a group of players as they play in a tournament to showcase their skills. On the week before this goes up on the Internet, Juan will have played in Philadelphia, Allentown, and then up to New York. He will be back in the Dominican Republic before July begins.
Juan hasn’t seen his mother since January of 2015 and didn’t even begin high school. It broke my heart.
Next July, although his 16th birthday will be in September, Juan and his family’s dream will come true. They’ll use some of his bonus to survive and he will start his journey as a professional. I got my driver’s license on July 2nd a few years ago, so in a way that’s symbolic of how lucky I am compared to these kids. It gives me chills.
This July 2nd, remember that the great majority of these kids won’t see a pitch in the big leagues. Remember that the great majority will probably flame out before reaching A-ball. Remember that the great majority won’t even leave the Dominican Republic. But I hope you join me in celebrating that all of these kids are beginning their dreams and providing for their families at an incredibly young age.