I sometimes find it difficult to explain to people exactly what this site is. "It's an online community," I say, and invariably the reply comes back, "what do you mean?" I try to explain that it's a website that I write articles for, like a little magazine, only daily... but unlike a magazine, people congregate here and talk. It's not just one-way communication. It's more of a forum for discussion. Some of us who write for the site set the topic, but the conversations veer all sorts of ways, and they're all happening at once.
Little is more incomplete than an institution in search of an identity. Well, let us look no further. Like a bolt from the blue, an e-mail two weeks ago on the SABR-L list made me realize exactly what we are.
Batter's Box is a Peña.
A what? A Peña.
And what, pray tell, is a Peña?
Well, perhaps it's best to direct you to Beth Kwon's article in the Village Voice, "The Havana Stat Kings", on the remarkable institution that is the Peña, and then to let Kit Krieger tell us some more. Kit runs Kit Krieger's Cubaball Tours in Vancouver, and it was his e-mail that conferred an identity on this site in that proverbial flash of lightning. Here it is.
Beth Kwon's "Village Voice" article on Havana's Peña is most evocative of a remarkable Cuban experience. The Havana peña is one of at last three in the country. There is another in Cuba's second city, Santiago de Cuba, and a third held weekly at Havana's Estadio Latinoamerican that is for retired players only.
My first encounter with the Peña was about five years ago. When I entered Parque Central (Central Park), 19th century colonial square that is lined by some of the city's most historic buildings, I heard from across the square the din of voices raised in heated debate. Cuba is not a society that encourages debate in private much less public places, so I walked over to the mass of perhaps 75 men gathered under the statue of the Cuban poet and revolutionary figure, Jose Martí. The discourse was not about domestic politics, economics or foreign policy, but about baseball.
The Peña convenes daily, usually in the late morning and continues to about 3:00 or 3:30. It will number anywhere from 30 to 150 participants. Some are actually members, who pay dues (probably a few cents a year). It is not clear what special status is accorded to members. Others are non members who simply enjoy the conversation. There is no apparent discrimination between members and non-members.
The Peña is not a single conversation but a series of discussion or arguments that break out in various spots around Jose Martí. You are always close enough to a neighboring conversation to shift to another group if their topic is more interesting. The conversations are frantic, with raised voices and wild gesticulation.
I am not sure that Beth is accurate in calling the Peña a Cuban version of SABR as the body does not undertake research as such. The shortages of pens and paper are but one obstacle to Cuban's undertaking SABR-like research. Fidel's dim view of pre-revolutionary baseball (he calls it "slave baseball") is another. However, the Peña's numbers include some members of SABR, including the titular head of the Peña, Marcello Sanchez. When foreign visitors announce themselves at the Peña, Senior Sanchez will introduce himself by displaying the business cards of his many American and Canadian friends, including Milton Jamail and Peter Bjarkman, well known SABR members and scholars of Cuban baseball.
My poor Spanish (I flatter myself) and my foreigner status make it difficult for me to report on the usual focus on Peña discussion. When foreigners, like Cubaball tours, visit the Peña the discussion invariably shifts to topics such as the likelihood of another series like the Oriole-Cuban National team series of a 1999, the success of Cuban players currently playing in the major leagues, and major league salary structures. The latter are incomprehensible to people whose local heroes toil for monthly salaries that fall far short of the major league per diem for food and clubhouse dues! The Peña members also are eager to talk about former Cuban stars such as Pascual, Minoso and Luque. As with music, Cuban appreciation of their culture spans many generations.
My Cuban friends tell me that when foreigners are not present (most days), the Peña devotes its attention to the decisions made by managers in the previous night's games, the virtues of shortstops of the Industriales and Pinar del Rio and the state of the pennant race. The Peña is, in fact, a gathering of very devoted and critical baseball fans whose daily lives afford more opportunity than most of us have to talk about their passion.
The ability of Peña members to stay current with American baseball is remarkable, given that it is impossible to buy a baseball weekly or watch ESPN, unless you work in a hotel. As Beth mentions in her article, there is a great hunger for any recent news and dated copies of almost any baseball publication are devoured and shared.
There is a tremendous desire among Cubans to have confirmed by foreigners that their baseball is world class. Despite their successes in the Olympics, Pan Am Games and World Championships, they know that the best baseaball is played in the American and National League. The successes of Livan and Orlando Hernandez, Rey Ordonez and others gives some confidence, but clearly not enough. The virtues of Cuban baseball is usually stated in the form of a question rather than an assertion.
You can find some photos of the Peña on the Cubaball website at www.cubaballtours.com.
https://www.battersbox.ca/article.php?story=20030922113132999