Rocker’s Appearance Draws a Curious Crowd

It was as if John Rocker were an animal in a zoo. An object of curiosity, possibly dangerous, definitely strange, maybe interesting.

“Should we get close?” a little boy whispered to his father. “Do you think he’ll yell at us? He’s the bad man, right?”

In his first public appearance since making his disparaging comments about several minorities, including Latinos, the big-boned, big-mouthed Atlanta Brave reliever showed up Saturday at the second Dennis Martinez Foundation charity game at the University of Miami.

The money raised is to be used to help Venezuela recover from last month’s devastating mudslides. Tony Perez, who was elected to the Hall of Fame last week, threw out the first ball. Texas Ranger catcher Ivan Rodriguez was a popular attendee. Andres Galarraga, Rocker’s Atlanta teammate, also appeared.

But it was Rocker who caused the most hubbub, who caused the crowd of about 4,000 to look and point, to whisper and boo, but not too loudly.

“He’s coming out,” Alex Hernandez said. Alex, 13, pointed to a yellow Port-O-Let next to the dugout. A second later, Rocker climbed out. His baseball cap was on backward. His sweat pants hung down a little low. Rocker smiled, gave a half bow and began signing autographs.

“Do you speak Spanish?” Alex asked Rocker. “Not really,” Rocker said. “I can understand it better than I can speak it.” “Amigo,” Alex said. Rocker looked puzzled, said nothing and signed Alex’s $10 admission ticket.

“This took some courage, for him to come here,” Martinez, the sponsor, said. “This will be a tough crowd for him. These people are proud and they all know what was said. But this is a good first step for John.”

Martinez spoke to several Spanish-language TV stations with his arm draped around Rocker’s shoulders. Rocker looked down at his feet. Martinez patted Rocker’s shoulders.

Rocker had committed to this charity affair months ago, Martinez said, long before the Sports Illustrated article appeared. It was in that story that Rocker, in a blanket condemnation of life in New York, mentioned in his diatribe his distaste for all those who didn’t speak English up to his standards. In a meeting last week, Hank Aaron had reportedly urged Rocker to live up to this commitment, no matter how uncomfortable Rocker might feel.

Still, an hour before the game, no one was sure if Rocker would show.

“I don’t think he’ll come,” Harry Ellis, an avid Florida Marlin fan, said. “I’m here because I want to see if the guy shows up.”

But when game time arrived, so did Rocker. He went into the dugout, put down a bag and came right out to sign autographs.

“The guy, he’s showing something,” Alex’s father, Randy, said. “I’m sure he’s not too comfortable today. So he’s lived up to an obligation and for a good cause. That doesn’t excuse him, but it helps him.”

Not so, said the Pichareo brothers. Francisco, 31, and his 24-year-old twin brothers, Jose and Mario, booed and yelled and pounded their fists when Rocker came to bat. The brothers had come from Nicaragua 11 years ago and have made their way in Miami by working in tough factory jobs, sometimes working two or three jobs at a time. Francisco attends Miami Dade Junior College at night. He apologizes. “My English is not so good,” he says. “I wish it were better.”

That Rocker would disparage New Yorkers, Jose Pichareo said, was not so bad. “Everybody knows the people are tough in New York,” he said. “But why did he not say anything bad about white New Yorkers? Why did he only say bad things about foreign people and gay people? That’s what is wrong. I bet the people who yelled at him in New York at the games, I bet there were white people too. Why didn’t he call them bad things?”

It was not bravery or contrition that brought Rocker to this game, Francisco said. “It is just for his image. His agent told him to come. Or his boss.”

“He should not be able to play baseball anymore,” the third brother, Mario, said. “If you or I had said the same things in public, our boss would fire us. Why does baseball not fire this man? Or at least suspend him. This is a free country, yes, but for me, it would be a country where the boss would be free to fire me if I ran my mouth like that.”

So the Pichareo brothers did not ask for Rocker’s autograph.

But dozens of others did. Children and adults, nearly all Latino, shouted at Rocker in English and Spanish. They thrust pages of the Sports Illustrated story toward Rocker. Rocker signed. They shoved bats in his face. Rocker signed. They waved caps and balls and shirts. Rocker signed. Rocker was given a baby, and he posed for a picture. “Gracias,” the baby’s uncle said.

In his only at bat--he did not pitch--Rocker popped out. The Pichareo brothers booed loudly, so loudly that they were told to be quiet. “Act with class,” a man yelled.

And so the crowd did. With class and curiosity. And forgiveness? Hard to tell. “I want to let people see I’m not a bad guy,” Rocker said as he walked away. “I have nothing else to say.”

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Diane Pucin can be reached at her e-mail address: diane.pucin@latimes.com.