The semifinal between Cuba and the United States had started before the two teams met on the diamond of Ioan Depot Park in Miami. When we learned that the Cuba team would continue on to the semifinals, thousands of Cubans, even the most indifferent to the sport, embarked on the same dream.
The illusion lived during the 2006 classic, when Cuba got a second place, it was renewed among those who know little or a lot about baseball. But the wait became bittersweet after the opponent of the Cuban squad was defined in the Baseball Classic: he dream team from United States.
On Sunday March 19, while a part of the fans tuned in to TeleRebelde, another Fox, and others were trying to get hooked on pirated streams via Facebook or YouTube, or were preparing to follow inning to inning During the game in WhatsApp groups, the surroundings of the Marlins headquarters saw colorful symbols parade: two sides of a shared passion that, for better or worse, does not leave us indifferent.
Both the support and the rejection of “Team Asere” were felt. The political fracture and the open wound in the transnational Cuban community, which has a conflictive epicenter in Miami, was evidenced.
Ever since it became known that the first “mixed” team in the history of Cuban baseball, with players from the national league and foreign leagues, would be in Miami, the question was how it would be received by a historic exile and its generational wake.
Both the old machinery of anti-Castroism and new influencers and other public figures made sure to express a clear message of repudiation of the Cuba team. There was no shortage of scenes such as the well-known steamroller in action outside the stadium, and in the stands, inside it, there was more than one attack against team members or their supporters.
It was shown that the ball continues to be an essential dimension of Cuban identity. The events around the national sport are part of who we are. In the V Clásico event, Cuba’s was not just a team, but a symbol that, according to conflicting creeds and narratives, we cheer or criticize. The ideologization crossed the top from end to end.
On the outskirts of Ioan Depot Park, everything was seen. Demonstrators against the Cuban government. Discomfort and pain among a part of the diaspora present there. Born here or there, wrapped in a Cuban flag.
There were also street vendors who did not lack orders from the odd clueless person who forgot his cap or flag at home.
An excited hobby was heard between cheers, applause, shouts and slogans. Many of them felt, despite the fact that the predictions favored the United States, that the possibility of being the best team was getting closer; that the dream that grandparents and parents did not see come true from 2006 until now, finally, now, will come true.
In the stadium, the Cubans from the ninth led by Armando Johnson put us in the first inning closer to the dream, when they scored a run off 41-year-old Adam Wainwright. Roel Santos and Yadir Drake celebrated and spread their joy.
In the stands, a girl was seen smiling in her father’s arms as the Cuban flag waved.
Not far from there, a woman raised a sign calling for “Freedom for Cuba” and three Cubans rushed onto the ground to demand freedom for the 9/11 political prisoners.
The euphoria of the first inning It didn’t last long and we all know the end of this story.
The Cuban pitching could not with the American offensive and, in a very slow death of nine innings no knockouts or mercy rule possible, the dream came undone in a 14-2 in favor of the dream team.
From all parts of the world, we Cubans were turning off televisions, closing laptops as if we slammed the door. Disappointed and a little sad. There was nothing else to see.
In the stadium, the vuvuzelas stopped and people went home to dream again. Because the dream, yes, is still alive. It was nice while it lasted. Who knows if a next time?
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