FanNation - The Republic of Sport

A six-year old kid flipped me off. He might have been older; I???m a terrible judge of age just by sight alone. Nonetheless, a little kid went across the language barrier and let his little bird fly at me. Welcome to the rivalry of all rivalries in Venezuela: Leones versus Magallenes. I heard it would be something special. It doesn???t matter where the game is held, what part of the season it is, or even the team???s records they kept telling me, it will be one of the biggest games of the year. After 15 games in Venezuela I had already been impressed with just about everything baseball related and this would turn out to be no exception. The night before this crucial showdown our game was postponed for two hours by some of the heaviest rain I had ever seen. Somehow, they got the field ready and we then proceeded to play a five hour game complete with 16 different pitchers used over eight and half innings. I was not one of them, and despite our eventual blowout I was forced to sit on my first two terrible performances for another night. As the game wound down I realized that since the next night was the Magallenes game it was likely that I would not pitch then either. I was a little disappointed to think that I hadn???t performed well enough to have a role in such a big game, but I was still excited to see what all the hype was about. Due to the length of the game the night before our manager, an American named Frank Kremblas, who is definitely a player???s guy, decided that we should just ???show and go.??? ???Show and go??? might be the three best words a player can hear. It means you get to the park as late as possible so you can just warm up and play the game. It???s usually reserved only for Sundays and the occasional night after a long road trip. Being that we were playing at the Magallenes place only two hours away from Caracas in Valencia, our buses pulled into the stadium parking lot a little over an hour before the game started. What I saw was somewhat unexpected. Fans, literally thousands, were already there. As we passed the different parking lots fans were pointing to their jerseys, singing songs of their respective teams, moderately tailgating with beers, and showing an overall intensity you see much more at College Football game then before a baseball game in the States. Don???t get me wrong, I???ve been to some Yankees versus Red Sox playoff games when I was in college. I???ve heard plenty about the Cubs versus Cardinals. But this was different. This was pure adrenaline, playoff atmosphere, two weeks into a winter league season. It was special right out of the gate. As I put my stuff on and headed out to warm up the buzz was tangible in the stadium. A live band was playing out in center field flanked by a nearly full set of bleachers. Other then the two bullpens that were next to the respective foul poles, third base side being the home club Magallenes and the first base side being ours, the whole place was crawling with people. Vendors were already working hard selling everything they had from drinks to ???taquenos??? (the only bit of Mexican food down here that hasn???t lost much in translation). Forty-five minutes to game time and the stadium was already over half full. I couldn???t imagine where all the people who had just been yelling at our buses and standing outside the gates were going to go. The air smelled just like an American ballpark, food and beer and that scent that you only get when a lot of people are packed together outdoors. Yet, beyond that, the sights were incredible. Flags were waving everywhere. Our team???s fans had showed up in droves. In fact, despite it being a Magallenes home game it appeared to be an almost split crowd as we started to warm up, except where I was. I settled into my pre-game routine of playing catch just before the warning track on the right field side of the stadium. As I moved further and further away from my partner on the right field line the shouts from the bleachers became louder and louder. The closer I got to center field the more Magallenes fans in the bleachers were yelling at me. Nothing too negative but almost everything involved the word ???Gringo??? and perdido. Basically, they kept telling me that we were going to lose. As my throwing program concluded I realized that throwing in the outfield might be the closest I was going to come to being a part of this rivalry tonight. While my name was on the active roster, so were ten other relief pitchers. We had a full pen and considering my performance I knew that unless we got blown out, which was unlikely considering the way we had been hitting and pitching, I was most likely a spectator with a good seat in the bullpen. Twenty minutes later it was time to play ball. The place was now completely full with only a little patch in the left field bleachers showing any sign of space. They claimed the game was sold out two weeks before the season even began, and I really don???t doubt it. The energy hadn???t subsided at all as the first pitch was thrown and the place was rocking. The PA kept blaring the Magallenes custom charge song at any hint of a big pitch. The announcer knew exactly when to rally the home crowd for support. The first frame was scoreless. One of the things I had noticed before the game was the names of the players on the Magallenes roster. Their starting line up had prospects like Elvis Andrus and Pablo Sandoval, respected former big leaguers like Edgardo Alfonzo and Richard Hidalgo and even Jay Gibbons, and finished with guys like Tony Gwynn Jr. and Wilkin Gonzalez. This team had some serious money behind it. In the top of the second some small ball got us a quick run. The Magallenes answered with a home run by the one guy???s name I didn???t recognize on the line up card, a second baseman with last name of Paz. The second he hit the ball off our starter, J.R. Mathes, the place erupted like Times Square when the ball drops. J.R. was up two strikes on the next hitter before you could even hear the person next to you. The passion was overwhelming. Then, as we had done every night for the past week, it was time for the Leones to show up. After picking up a run in the third, Mathes worked efficiently out of a couple of jams and we held a tenuous one run lead into the fifth. It would prove to be a dramatic inning. After a couple of hits and a walk, our clean up hitter Matt LaPorta hit a lazy ground ball just in front of the second base bag. Andrus, the slick fielding Rangers prospect, couldn???t decide what to do with the ball and when he finally decided on second base the runner had beaten the throw. We now had a one run lead and our biggest Venezuelan bat, Jose Castillo, coming to the plate. Castillo didn???t disappoint. He hit the first pitch over the fence and nailed the railing off the bleachers. The Leones fans were so loud on the crack of the bat that no one could hear the ball hit the metal. The left fielder smartly picked the ball up and relayed it to second where Castillo was standing. They called it a double, but the damage was done, bases cleared, 6-1 Leones. Two more innings and one a solo shot from Josh Kroeger, an outfielder who was with the Iowa Cubs this past year and could not be any hotter at the plate. We were cruising towards a victory. With a full pen I was hoping for a shot but knew it probably wasn???t even on the radar. Until it was. After the bottom of seventh, and still leading 7-1, the bullpen coach gave me the sign. I had the bottom of the eighth. I???d be lying if I told you I didn???t get some butterflies right out of the gate. Here I was sitting on two terrible outings in the biggest game of the year thus far. 7-1 is a good lead but by no way an inevitable conclusion. Our manager was giving me a shot. I took it. 1-2-3. I was surprisingly relaxed and confident. I couldn???t even hear the 25,000 plus or whatever the final attendance was. I struck out the first hitter, got Hidalgo to ground out, and battled back from a two nothing count to get Gibbons to pop out to right. I was on the board. I finally had helped the team. I remember coming off the mound and looking up and every Leones flag in the stadium seemed to be flying. The cheers and heckles were for me this time. My skin was tingling and I was doing everything I could to hide my excitement. I got to be a part of this incredible rivalry. We held on, the gamed ended, our fans stayed and celebrated like it was our own home game and I felt energized. The rivalry was everything it was cracked up to be. The fans were intense, passionate, and knowledgeable, and the players played with their hearts. I did too. It was an amazing night and not one I am sure to forget for the rest of my days. As I sat on the bus on the way back to Caracas, I realized that while I still have a long way to go and my ERA in Venezuela would win me an NBA scoring title, I had just accomplished something. Somehow the undrafted converted side-armer from Tufts University had been a part of one of the great rivalries in baseball. I don???t care where you go, Magallenes-Leones is one of the reasons baseball is such an incredible game. I don???t think I deserved the chance I got, but I am sure glad I got it. I am still a long way from satisfied, but just this one night has been worth all of the struggles I have had so far in Venezuela. Hopefully now I can settle in and have more good nights and help this team I am growing so fond of. Randy Newsom is a 26-year-old, side-arming closer in the Indians minor league organization who will be blogging for Dugout Central about playing in the Venezuelan Winter League. An undrafted free agent signing out of Tufts University by the Red Sox, Newsom was traded to the Indians as the player to be named later in the Coco Crisp deal. See his career stats here.