It's a perfect evening for stories. The best story of my two weeks here, and possibly of my entire voyage here, was meeting Epy Guerrero. I knew of Epy before I came to the D.R., although I did not entirely understand what he did here. I knew he was a baseball scout and was a tremendous resource for my research.
Upon meeting Epy, I leaned that he is the most influential scout of the last 40 years of baseball in North America. He built the Toronto Blue Jays teams that won back-to-back World Series titles in 1992-1993, signed and developed numerous stars in Major League Baseball for Toronto, Milwaukee, and Houston, and continues his work as an independent scout in the D.R. today. Among his pupils and others who benefitted from his work: Carlos Delgado, Tony Fernandez, Damaso Garcia, Pat Borders, Jose Mesa, Roberto Alomar, Alcides Escobar, and Pat Gillick. Yep, Gillick the Hall of Fame executive. Gillick made it to Cooperstown because of the embarrassment of prospect riches presented to him by Epy's scouting work. Epy is in the Dominican Sports Hall of Fame and has received many scouting awards.
I met him for the first time at his training complex, far removed from the city and into an untamed world I could only imagine before. We drove on an unpaved road and over a dangerous land bridge to make it to the baseball grounds. Before this my most harrowing reporting assignment was running up and down the concrete stairs at San Jose Municipal Stadium in California. Traipsing through the jungle and maneuvering over the scary land bridge is my version of crossing the first threshold, if you're following this story as a version of The Hero's Journey. It kinda fits.
Immediately I was led to one of the diamonds on the grounds, where a baseball game was already in progress. You can tell where my priorities are, because my gaze was drawn to the tall, thin right-hander on the mound, throwing harder than I can recall seeing in person and popping the catcher's mitt loudly. He had a 3/4 arm slot and good late movement on his breaking stuff.
(I don't know how to simplify that for the non-baseball inclined readers, aside from saying the pitcher threw impressive fastballs, has a semi-low release point for his pitches, and has a good curveball. I fancy myself a scout. Just be glad I didn't refer to his slider as a "slide piece.")
Epy introduced everyone around him before he introduced himself. I met some coordinators at the camp, some assistants, and a scrawny yellow lab, whom Epy introduced as another advisor.
I was asked to sit down and explain why I was here, something that made me really uneasy. Not because I have problems talking about myself. If you've read anything prior to this entry, you know that. I learned a long time ago never to turn your back on a baseball game, especially not when the pitcher throws so hard I could hear the ball whistling through the air. That's a good way to get a knot on your head.
Epy took me to the house on the property, decorated in lush furniture and family photographs. Then we went to a room in the back of the house, where he took me on a tour of his 40 years in the business. The walls were covered in pictures of Epy and his kids, articles about Epy's work, and plaques honoring him for his kids and his work. The room had trophies and awards and memorabilia on almost every inch of the floor.
It was the greatest room in the history of mankind.
Epy supplemented the tour of the room with stories attached to almost everything I stood gawking at. He bubbled over with excitement showing me everything. He gave me several articles and pictures to take home with me. I earned his respect by correctly identifying some of the men in his pictures.
When we got down to brass tacks, the real reasons why I'm here, aside from roll around in baseball and call it academic research, Epy gave me almost more than I can handle. Almost. There's already a ton of information to sift through and we've only met twice.
He invited me to his home in Santo Domingo for the following day, to celebrate his wife's birthday. This time it was a lot different. More informal. I was integrated into the family. I met two of Epy's sons, who both work as scouts in the D.R. They fed me asopao, a ridiculously rich Dominican stew that's sort of like pozole. And then we took a tour of another room of Epy's stuff, where I snapped pictures and got more stories.
You can see the pictures from Wednesday afternoon here: http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10150288940411373.332029.731621372&l=182ded7084&type=1
It was a huge departure from how I usually work. In my usual journalism assignments in the States, I spend about five minutes with my interview subject. We meet in a public place in the open, usually the dugout. And that's only in the case of in-person interviews, which I'd say I do maybe half the time. I've always felt it necessary to keep a distance from those I talk to in my work.
This time, I chatted with Epy over asopao for over an hour. He introduced me to everyone at the party, all his family members, and told them who I was, where I was from, and what I was doing here. He took extra care to tell his grandchildren that I am American; some of his grandkids speak English fluently.
The whole thing made me a little uncomfortable, because I was out of my element. I'm an efficient machine when it comes to banging out a story, but when it comes to getting to the heart of a really good story like what Epy can teach me, I guess I need more work on that.
I also felt awkward because I have trouble being integrated into a group. Like I talked about in previous posts, I don't understand why someone I just met would be so kind to me and eager to know me. I had an instant big loud boisterous Dominican family on Wednesday, and I was there just doing my job.
Epy is like the awesome Dominican abuelo I never had. I can tell his naturally a vivacious person, but I could tell he was eager and excited to talk to me about everything he knew.
I'm not discussing details of what he told me here. I'm saving that for my articles, which will be published in early October, most likely. They will have qualities of both academic and journalistic writing. I'll post links to those works when they are published.
As I wrote this entry, the rain started falling. It's a gentle rain and the air is cool and fresh outside. The moisture on the palms lining my street shine under the street lamps. It doesn't relate to my story of how I met Epy Guerrero at all, but I felt like it was a nice way to end my day with you.
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