SCOTTSDALE, Ariz. – Seeking refuge from the iron-fisted dictatorship of Fidel Castro, a young boy fled Cuba, where his father was a political enemy of the state. The year was 1967. The boy’s name? Fernando Arenado, a 6-year-old that loved baseball and spoke no English. He and his family fled to Spain and, a year later, to the United States, a nation built on the dreams of immigrants, finding a safe place to call home.
“This is the country that gave me my freedom,” said Arenado. “The United States means everything to me.”
Years ago, all the kid wanted was a chance. The young Cuban refugee grew up to be a man in America, worked hard, asked for no handouts, shared his love of baseball on dusty sandlots in California and raised three sons of his own. This is a sports story that was 50 years in the making, and is written in red, white and blue.
plays third base for the . His glove reminds old-timers of Brooks Robinson. His sweet batting stroke makes his $11.75 million salary seem like a bargain. At age 25, Arenado is just getting warmed up, for a run at the Hall of Fame.
And one more thing: Later this week, at a ballpark in Miami, 225 miles from where his father was born, Arenado will take the field at the World Baseball Classic, proudly wearing the uniform of the United States, representing his country, as well as honoring the sacrifices and struggles of his ancestors.
“This is very important to me,” said Arenado, an immigrantap son who graduated from El Toro High School in Lake Forest, Calif. “My father always taught me: ‘You are so lucky to be born in this country. America means freedom. Itap a country where you are free to do whatever you want and free to be whoever you want.’ Where my father was born, in Cuba, that was not the case.”
Fifty years ago, the beacon of hope for immigrants that dreamed of a life better in America was the Statue of Liberty. In 2017, President Donald Trump vows to update the message sent to the rest of the world with a wall.
“I will never forget what my father did for me by coming to this country. Growing up, I was never embarrassed to be Cuban. Itap in my blood,” Arenado said. “America is going through some crazy times with immigrants. There are a lot of angry people. It sometimes makes my father sad and disappointed. But I take great pride in representing the United States.”
When the USA opens the WBC tournament against Colombia, the vast majority of our country’s best homegrown talent — including two-time American League MVP Mike Trout and Clayton Kershaw, the three-time Cy Young winner from the National League — won’t be participating. This is not to condemn either superstar, because we are born capitalists. Whatap good for the country often takes a back seat to whatap good for personal business.
The Sonoran desert is seldom brighter with promise than the morning after a storm. On a recent morning when the desert was scrubbed fresh by rain, Rockies outfielder sat in the Colorado clubhouse at Salt River Fields, envisioning how he and his countrymen from Venezuela could win the WBC.
“This tournament is a lot of pressure for us, because our country takes it so seriously,” Gonzalez said. “And then you see the United States, where there are so many great baseball players, but some guys want to play and some guys don’t, because they really don’t care.”
Since its inauguration in 2006, this tourney has crowned three true world champions. The United States has never claimed the title, or even finished second. You don’t have to remind me why. We really don’t care.
But can you keep a family secret? There is a Cuban immigrant’s son who was one of the hottest teenage baseball prospects in suburban Los Angeles. As a freshman in high school, he traveled to Arizona and tried out for the U.S. national junior team. Young Nolan Arenado got cut. The kid did not cry. The ride in the car home with his father, however, was long and painful, but not long enough to make peace with being rejected. Rejection lit a fire.
“Since he was 14 years old,” Fernando Arenado told me, “all my son ever wanted to do is play baseball for the U.S.A.”
Whatap all any of us ever really want? A chance.
This time, Nolan Arenado made the team. When he stands for the National Anthem at the WBC, I can almost guarantee there will be tears, at least from one spectator in the stands.
“Will I be there? You better believe it. We’ve already got the T-shirts made for the family,” Fernando Arenado said. “To see Nolan wear the colors of the United States on a baseball field? It means everything to me.”
All you need to understand the power of the American dream is to watch how high and far a home run can soar off the bat of a Cuban immigrantap son.
