Posted on 07/15/2002 3:38:45 AM PDT by Cincinatus' Wife
When Eddie Oropesa made the Cuban national team in 1993, it was one of the best days of his life.
Not because he could represent his country; because he could leave it.
Six weeks later, Oropesa did just that, defecting during a tour of the United States.
He left behind his pregnant wife, Rita, and a father, Edilberto, who was jailed and beaten when he spoke proudly of his son's exploits.
While the U.S. celebrated its independence earlier this month, Oropesa's party was Thursday - nine years and a day after he defected, six years to the day after his family was permitted to leave Cuba. Oropesa reunited with them on a wet day in Costa Rica on July 11, 1996.
"We were crying for an hour," Oropesa said. "We didn't talk. Nothing.
"That day was the first day I saw my son. Every day when I wake up, I give thanks to God and this country. This country is the best in the world. They gave me freedom for me and for my family."
Oropesa, a left-handed reliever who opened the season with the Diamondbacks - he is now with the Sidewinders - is one of a steady trickle of Cuban baseball players who have immigrated to the United States to get away from the oppressive regime of Fidel Castro.
Others include Florida Marlins pitch-ers Vladimir Nuñ-ez, Michael Tejera and Hansel Izquierdo. Nuñez was the D'backs' first big-money free agent when he signed for $1.7 million in 1996, before he was traded to the Marlins in the Matt Mantei deal in 1999.
Toronto manager Carlos Tos-ca, the D'backs' bench coach under former manager Buck Sho-walter, came to this country as a child when his father, a doctor, saw Cuba crumbling.
Also, D'backs third base coach Eddie Rodriguez was 7 when his family left Havana in one of the last freedom flights in 1966.
That came after Castro put an end to the privatization of business in Cuba and "absorbed'' the Rodriguez's thriving business and two houses, turning the assets into property of the state.
Rodriguez arrived with his father, Rafael, mother, Maria, grandmother Filomena, young-er brother Bert and cousin Xiomara. They first lived in Hamilton, Ohio, where Eddie Rodriguez's older brother had been placed four years earlier with an adoptive family by the Roman Catholic Church.
The extended family started with the bare minimum, moving seven times before Rafael found work with Amtrak in Miami. Eventually, the family started its own paint shop.
"We left (Cuba) with nothing - the clothes you had on and a cup of coffee. No suitcases. No jewelry," Eddie Rodriguez said.
"You have to apply to leave, and they inventory everything you have. At the time you leave, everything in the inventory has to be in the house. You can't take the washing machine and give it out. It has to be exactly as it was.
"Starting from scratch was starting from scratch. Not two pairs of pants, not three shirts. (Just) what we had on. If you have family here, you obviously have some help. But the way it is here, everybody has to look out for (themselves).
"Landlords would raise your rent. You couldn't afford it, so you'd go somewhere else. The areas that we lived in were not the best. But we had to make do with what we had."
Eddie Rodriguez, 43, was a star athlete at Miami Senior High School and Miami Dade South Junior College before signing a contract with the Baltimore Orioles in 1978. He played for six seasons in the minor leagues before becoming a coach in 1983.
He was the third base coach for the 2000 U.S. Olympic team, which beat Cuba to win the gold medal, and won another championship ring as the first base coach for the D'backs in 2001. He took over in the third-base coaching box this season.
"I saw the hard work and the adversity my dad and brothers went through," Rodriguez said. "It's motivated me all my life."
Like the Rodriguez family, many transplanted Cubans relocate to Miami, 90 miles north of Cuba, and fortunately for Oropesa, he had relatives there who were eager to assist him.
A cousin and an uncle drove to Buffalo, N.Y., where Oropesa - in full uniform, 20 minutes before a game against Korea - scaled a chain-link fence, ran to a car and jumped in.
A scared but giddy trio, they drove to New Jersey, where they spent the night with another relative before flying to Miami the next day.
Oropesa heard the hoots of his Cuban teammates as he climb-ed the fence.
"Hey, Oropesa, where are you going? What are you doing?"
Shortstop Rey Ordoñez was among those shouting at Oropesa. Ordoñez, now with the Mets, would make the same leap two days later.
Neither told the other. No one must know, in case the wrong person should find out.
"If they think you are going to defect, they take you off the team and put someone in your place," Oropesa said.
Said Ordoñez, during an early-season visit to Bank One Ballpark, "You can't speak in Cuba about the United States. In Cu-ba, the United States is not a good country."
Said Rodriguez, "There are two television stations in Cuba, and their programming is all based on the regime. You are not seeing or learning anything. You are brain-wash-ed to the system. In that regard, you are afraid to take a chance, because you don't know anything - except what is being indoctrinated to you.
"Coming over and traveling through baseball opens their eyes a little bit," Rodriguez said, "and they are willing to take those chances.''
Oropesa knew his opportunity would arise when he was named to the Cuban national team. He mentioned leaving to his father, but did not tell Rita. He said he did not want his pregnant wife to worry.
He went three years without seeing his parents, his wife and his son, although on occasional phone calls, he would hear a joyful "Poppy, Poppy" from his infant son.
"It was tough," Oropesa said. "You think you will never see your family and friends again. You know you will never come back to your home. It is hard. I was going crazy when I didn't see Eddie Jr."
Oropesa was 21 when he left, old enough to understand the Cuban system and its flaws.
"You don't have any freedom in Cuba," he said. "You can't talk. You can't do anything. I didn't want that for my son. You don't want your son to grow up with no freedom and no future."
April 17, 2002 - Astros' Venezuelans keeping an eye on country's political unrest - Castro likes baseball too*** The political unrest in Venezuela has touched baseball on many fronts, especially the Astros, whose Venezuelan baseball academy is considered the model. The Astros' academy is in Guacara, 2 1/2 hours away from the turmoil in Caracas. Ironically, though, it is on land owned by the chemical company Venoco. Pedro Carmona, the man who served as leader of the interim government after temporarily overthrowing Chavez, is the president of Venoco. Carmona was released from jail Monday. Chavez surely hasn't forgotten, though, that Carmona dismantled the National Assembly, fired the ministers of the Supreme Court and arrested high-level government officials during the nearly 48 hours Chavez was out of power and under military control. …… "I've said for a long time that this guy might try to be the next Fidel Castro," said Peter Greenberg, who represents Hidalgo, Hernandez, Bobby Abreu, Edgardo Alfonzo, Roger Cedeño and most of the top Venezuelans in the majors. "My players say, `Don't worry. He loves baseball. He won't mess with the baseball players.' Then I remind them that Fidel loves baseball, too."***
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