I don’t like talking in stadiums while watching a baseball game. It doesn’t matter if I’m in a school duel, in the Provincial, in the National Series or in an international event, I prefer to abstract myself, get into the game and analyze every detail that I perceive from the stands.
Maybe that’s why I was a little upset when a fan of Industriales, almost always dressed in a pullover, a cap or an extravagant blue hat, would come up to me in the Latino to ask me questions and ask me for criteria. I never avoided conversation and responded to every question religiously, but I won’t deny that deep down I just wanted to be silent.
Those episodes were not a thing of a day, because Eduardo Medina Fernández was always in the Coloso del Cerro, sitting on the right wing, just behind the press boxes. On the coldest nights, on hot sunny afternoons, on rainy days, with Industriales upstairs, with Industriales in the basement, this older gentleman would appear there with his glasses and his “lock” full of gray hair to talk about baseball.
At first, I did not know his name was Eduardo, in fact, I asked him his name several times and he always answered me the same: “I am pure poison.” And so, as “Veneno”, everyone knew him in the Latino, where he would walk with his blue bag and his smile from ear to ear, looking for conversation about baseball or simply greeting everyone who crossed his path, no matter what. team were.
Over time, I began to find “Veneno” in many baseball arenas in the country. He traveled everywhere without any kind of support, just for the love of his team and the ball. In Santiago, in Las Tunas, in Bayamo, in Matanzas, in Ciego, wherever the Industrialists went, there he was, ready to exchange and discover the most unexpected details of the game, what goes on behind the scenes in the dugouts of each team.
“What do you think, if I win this year?” he asked me more than once, as if looking for that ray of hope that the most loyal fans sometimes need. I always answered him honestly, I invited him to analyze the realities and his ability to reflect, without fanaticism, caught my attention. Definitely, “Veneno” was a wise man, with a great thirst for information and a desire to learn.
Once, at the Guillermón Moncada, I was walking with three very young boys whom he had brought from Havana to experience the Cuban baseball classic between Industriales and Santiago. Without complexes and defying all logic, they walked through the fief of the indomitable in their blue suits, collided with the conga, debated, shouted, but without ever getting excited or arguing, because one of the maxims of “Veneno” was to respect and give to respect in any stadium in Cuba.
In fact, he won over fans from various places far from Havana. In Matanzas, for example, the Victoria de Girón applauded him when he entered the stands wearing a half blue and half red shirt, which he had himself made after Industriales was knocked out and the Crocodiles took several Leones as reinforcements.
Every time we saw each other out there, he asked me to take a photo and at the same time, when I least expected it, “Veneno” appeared with the printed and signed image to give it to me. I suppose that he would do the same with so many people who crossed his path, who woke up today with the worst news.
Eduardo Medina Fernández, or simply “Veneno”, died abruptly. In this dry April of 2023, he left us all on the field, wanting to continue in the game alongside one of his most ardent fans. According to his relatives, he suffered a heart attack this Friday at his house, shortly after arriving from Artemisa, where his Industriales lost for the umpteenth time in the 62nd National Baseball Series.
His heart stopped, or perhaps exploded with rage and impotence, not because of the blue defeats, but because of the mistreatment and disregard of baseball officials in the capital, who did not allow him and a dozen fans to return to Havana. in the bus of the reserve of Industriales.
According to what the peñistas themselves recounted, who moved to the 26 de Julio park by their own means to support the Lions in one of their worst moments in recent years, they were already on the almost empty bus when a baseball manager in the capital told them that they could not make the return trip, a disrespectful act towards people who are the true heart of the game along with the players.
There is and will not be a way to link the death of “Veneno” to this unfortunate incident, but it caused tremendous inconvenience, to the point that it exploded and broke a few hours later. This detail, without a doubt, only makes the wound from his departure deeper and more painful, which will be felt particularly on the Latino’s right wing. A monument to “Veneno” should be erected there, as was done with Armandito “El Tintorero” on the third bench of the Coloso del Cerro.
I, who don’t like to talk in baseball games, today more than ever I am silent in this great baseball stadium that is Cuba to honor the memory of “Veneno”. May he rest in peace and may he go on a path of light towards new diamonds.
