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The San Juan Daily <strong>Star</strong> Monday, March 21, 2016<br />
43 Sports<br />
“It was hard at first,” he said. “I missed Cuba,<br />
but I knew I could not go back.”<br />
The sudden freedom to speak his mind<br />
bewildered him at first.<br />
At a cafe in Little Havana in Miami, he was<br />
stunned to hear fellow Cubans loudly criticizing<br />
the president.<br />
“Bush this, Bush that,” he recalled, chuckling<br />
at the memory. “I was looking around and thinking,<br />
‘How could they be talking like this about<br />
the president?’ Nobody was hushing their voice.<br />
That’s how you can tell a newly arrived Cuban.<br />
They still talk in whispers.”<br />
The exile community embraced him, though<br />
Arocha was wary of political activism.<br />
“I know nothing about politics,” he told The<br />
New York Times a few weeks after arriving. As<br />
that article noted, Arocha had left shortly before<br />
Havana was to play host to the Pan-American<br />
Games, perhaps adding to Fidel Castro’s ire.<br />
Gus Dominguez, a Cuban-American working<br />
at an advertising firm in Los Angeles, happened<br />
to be visiting a Miami radio station to<br />
help promote Canseco’s candy bar while word<br />
spread of Arocha’s defection.<br />
A sports reporter helped him make the connection.<br />
“I knew Canseco’s agents so I agreed to bring<br />
Rene to Los Angeles to meet them and see what<br />
could happen,” Dominguez said.<br />
A week later, the meeting had still not panned<br />
out. Baseball had no system in place to draft<br />
Cuban players, so everybody was operating with<br />
caution and suspicion.<br />
“Finally Rene tells me, ‘Why don’t you be<br />
my agent? You are the only one helping me,’”<br />
Dominguez said. “He said, ‘I will learn how to<br />
play baseball here and you learn how to be an<br />
agent.’”<br />
It took several months, but the league decided<br />
to hold a special lottery for Arocha. The St.<br />
Louis Cardinals signed him.<br />
“I wanted him to play, to at least give it a<br />
shot,” Dominguez said.<br />
“His talent was above average, but he wasn’t<br />
great,” he added. “What made him above average<br />
is you could tell winning was always on his<br />
mind.”<br />
A Short but Pioneering Stint<br />
Pitching in Cuba was one thing; pitching in<br />
the big leagues was another.<br />
“I thought my years of experience would<br />
help, but I had a lot to learn,” Arocha said. “Slider,<br />
sinker, everything. I mostly used the fastball<br />
in Cuba.”<br />
Arocha went 11-8 his rookie season in 1993.<br />
He remembered standing on the mound in that<br />
first game against the Cincinnati Reds on April<br />
9, 1993.<br />
“I thought, I really did it,” he said. “I have<br />
arrived.”<br />
It turned out to be the pinnacle of his career.<br />
The next season he was in the bullpen.<br />
Arocha did not adjust well, mentally or physically,<br />
and ended up with an elbow injury that at<br />
first was diagnosed as a bone chip but was later<br />
found to be a torn tendon. He required Tommy<br />
John surgery and, in his eyes and the eyes of his<br />
associates, it signaled the end of his career. He<br />
missed the 1996 season.<br />
He was cut by the Cardinals after having played<br />
three seasons and signed with the San Francisco<br />
Giants in 1997 for a season but did not start,<br />
relegated to one of their minor league teams.<br />
In 1998, he played for the New Orleans Zephyrs,<br />
a Houston Astros Triple-A team, then<br />
went on to play in Mexican leagues in 1999 and<br />
discussed a comeback with the Mets in 2000, but<br />
there was not enough interest, and he retired.<br />
He settled here, because the community had<br />
always welcomed him. Thousands of fans of Cuban<br />
descent had watched and cheered him here<br />
when he had pitched against the Marlins in a<br />
game that rookie season.<br />
“Without a doubt Arocha was a pitcher with<br />
a lot of talent, but injuries and bad luck always followed<br />
him,” said Ian Padron, a Cuban filmmaker<br />
who featured Arocha in his 2003 documentary<br />
on Cuban baseball, ‘Fuera de Liga” (“Out of This<br />
League”).<br />
Still, Arocha’s relative success when healthy<br />
answered doubts about whether top Cuban players<br />
could play in the big leagues.<br />
“His rookie season alone was solid enough to<br />
answer the many doubts of the skeptics,” Bjarkman<br />
writes in his new book, “and to demonstrate<br />
that at least the top Cuban League pitchers could<br />
indeed make the grade at the highest levels of<br />
professional baseball.”<br />
Letting Go of the Past, Almost<br />
“I don’t watch baseball, none of the games<br />
or spring training or anything,” Arocha said recently<br />
on his cluttered back patio. “I never liked<br />
watching baseball. I don’t have patience for that. I<br />
liked playing baseball.”<br />
He likened his split with the sport to a “chapter<br />
in my life that has ended.”<br />
“Sometimes they come around and ask me to<br />
play softball,” he added. “I don’t even do that.”<br />
Yet he is still conscious enough of his image<br />
to have posted several videos of his playing days<br />
on YouTube.<br />
Who, after all, wants to be forgotten?<br />
At the suggestion that he might feel differently<br />
if baseball had made him rich or if injuries<br />
had not derailed his career, he shrugged.<br />
“Who knows?”<br />
For a time he did run a youth baseball academy,<br />
coaching children, but the business failed in<br />
hard economic times and he closed it in 2010.<br />
He gets by driving a van for a medical clinic<br />
and spends his free time on his motorboat<br />
or with his three grown children, two of whom<br />
were born and raised in the United States.<br />
He never got the multimillion-dollar contracts<br />
that many Cuban players land now. His signing<br />
bonus with St. Louis was $15,000. (“I thought it<br />
was a fortune,” he said.) The most he made in a<br />
season was $300,000.<br />
“I don’t have control over such things,” he<br />
said of the difference in contracts. “Those players<br />
deserve it. They have the talent. I was in a different<br />
time.”<br />
He still harbors doubts about Cuba and the<br />
talk of changes there. Several of his relatives have<br />
gone on trips to Cuba and encouraged him to<br />
go, but he said he doubted that much had really<br />
changed. His only visit came during a 1994 humanitarian<br />
tour to visit refugees at the American<br />
military base at Guantánamo, which is walled off<br />
from the rest of the country.<br />
“Players are going to keep coming because<br />
there still is no freedom there,” he said.<br />
He noted that Puig and a few other players<br />
who had defected visited Cuba in November but<br />
only as part of a good will trip organized by Major<br />
League Baseball and the players’ union.<br />
“So it was controlled,” he said. “If I go, I want<br />
to go wherever I want, whenever I want. That is<br />
freedom.”<br />
In the fading afternoon light, he is waxing<br />
the side of his 17-foot boat parked in the yard.<br />
When he takes it out on the seas, it occurs to<br />
him he may encounter Cubans on rafts fleeing the<br />
island, a common occurrence in South Florida.<br />
“I hear you can’t bring them on the boat,” he<br />
says. “You could be accused of smuggling. You<br />
throw them water and food and call the Coast<br />
Guard.”<br />
The letters indicating the name of the boat<br />
are fading. “Lady …”<br />
“No,” Arocha interrupts. “No, that’s not the<br />
name. I haven’t named it yet but I have the name<br />
picked out.”<br />
He smiles, pausing for effect.<br />
“Industriales!”<br />
And he laughs loudly at the inside joke, one<br />
for the Cuban fans.<br />
Robert Horry Picks Tim Duncan Over Kobe Bryant<br />
By MARCEL MUTONI<br />
Having played and won NBA championships<br />
with the two greatest players<br />
of their generation, Robert Horry<br />
didn’t have any trouble picking between Kobe<br />
Bryant and Tim Duncan.<br />
The always brutally honest Big Shot Rob<br />
gives the nod to Duncan because of the consistency<br />
he’s shown throughout his Hall of Fame<br />
career.<br />
I asked Horry who he’d rather have on his<br />
team, Kobe or Duncan. His response: “Am I<br />
trying to win a championship or am I trying<br />
to fill seats?”<br />
— Melissa Rohlin (@melissarohlin)<br />
Horry currently works for the Los Angeles<br />
Lakers as a TV talking head—his playing<br />
career in Hollywood came to an end acrimoniously—and<br />
says that San Antonio Spurs<br />
head coach Gregg Popovich is better to play<br />
for than Phil Jackson.<br />
Horry said he’d pick Pop over Phil Jackson:<br />
“He treats everybody the same on the<br />
team, whether you’re a starter or the 12th<br />
man.”<br />
— Melissa Rohlin (@melissarohlin)<br />
Per the Express-News:<br />
Robert Horry, who has played alongside<br />
Kobe Bryant and Tim Duncan, was recently asked<br />
which of those superstars he would rather<br />
build a team around. […] He responded with<br />
a question of his own: “Am I trying to win a<br />
championship; or am I trying to fill seats?”<br />
Even though Bryant and Duncan have<br />
each won five titles, Horry would pick Duncan<br />
if the goal is to bring home a Larry O’Brien trophy.<br />
[…] “Not saying that you can’t win them<br />
with Kobe, but Tim is that guy that’s going to<br />
be that rock, that consistency,” Horry said.<br />
That was just one of the popular debate topics<br />
Horry spoke openly and honestly about.<br />
Another was which one of his former coaches<br />
he preferred — Gregg Popovich or Phil Jackson.<br />
[…] “I would rather play for Pop,” said<br />
Horry, who played for Popovich from 2003-<br />
08. “The thing that I’d say best about Pop is he<br />
would curse you out, (but) he treats everybody<br />
the same on the team, whether you’re a starter<br />
or the 12th man. He knows how to leave things<br />
in the gym because he’s a true believer in family.<br />
And that’s what you are when you’re on a<br />
team — you’re family. You’ll get in arguments<br />
at times, but at the end of the day, I’ve still got<br />
nothing but love for you, and I’m going to let it<br />
go. A lot of coaches don’t know how to do that,<br />
and they’ll hold grudges for a long time.”