A quirky, wry, and often hilarious odyssey through the baseball fields of Latin America―both sports book and travelogue, political reportage and meditation on New World identity. With wit and style, John Krich evokes a world where barefoot kids perfect their swings with stalks of sugar cane, midget mascots dance the merengue atop dugouts, and wily scouts compete with dictators for the souls of promising shortstops. " El Beisbol sparkles with keen observation and irreverent humor."― Washington Post Book World
With the baseball playoffs, and soon the World Series, I thought it was time for a baseball book. I dislike almost all sports fiction (excluding W.P. Kinsella), so I pulled from the old TBR pile (of course there is more than one) John Krich’s El Beisbol: Travels Through a Pan-American Past-Time. Previously I have enjoyed books that used sport as a metaphor or backdrop for comparing the United States against another country’s culture. Here the reader travels Mexico’s Pacific Coast, Nicaragua, the Dominican Republic, and Venezuela.
While we are exposed to the least amount of baseball during the trip through Venezuela, in some ways I think Krich exposes the reader to a much more balanced view of the country than in any of his other trips. Perhaps it is the guides he employs, as they come across as individuals, and unlike the other countries, we are not distracted by two things. The first being conversations with former or current professional ballplayers and a game.
The second is what dates the book. Krich, an avowed journalist, often interjects his politics into his travels, especially in Nicaragua and in the tome’s epilogue. I don’t care if his politics are to the left, but the book was written in 1986, and his love affair with Nicaragua’s government, and as happened later the corruption that took place, just makes those chapters feel dated and out of place for me.
Baseball — America's national pastime — has been made better by players from Latin America, from Roberto Clemente and Juan Marichal to Albert Pujols and Yadier Molina. This delightful travel log takes us to the Dominican Republic, Mexico, Puerto Rico, Nicaragua, and Venezuela. Krich provides vivid looks at cultures as distinctive as the players who have become local legends (many of them also legends in the United States). Politics are woven into the story, to some degree, as the government of, say, Venezuela, is not exactly parallel to that we sing about as "the land of the free" before major-league games. But the thread that connects each of these cultures is baseball. And that makes for a lovely tale.