They Crack Lineups and Language Barrier

Summer came packed with baseball tutelage and English lessons for Tempe Angels such as Alexander Torres.

While chasing his dreams on the field, Torres, an 18-year-old pitcher from Venezuela, also picked up English-language skills and learned about U.S. culture. His team, the rookie league affiliate of the Angels, offered predominantly Spanish-speaking players lessons on everything from pronouncing the alphabet to ordering meals.

“I still don’t speak English or understand it well,” Torres said recently, in Spanish. “But I’m picking up things little by little.”

Torres is among the hundreds of Latino players to enter professional baseball in the United States from other countries each year. In many cases, the players bring little more than raw talent, some baseball equipment, pictures of their loved ones and limited English skills, if any.

But the baseball community in recent decades has moved to help young players from around the world fit in better as they learn a new language and culture. The awkward moments brought by the mix of ethnicities in the game, and even racism, are far less common these days, baseball officials and players said.

In a biography of Hall of Fame outfielder Roberto Clemente published this year, author David Maraniss recounted the experiences of some Spanish-speaking players from the 1950s, 1960s and early 1970s. Clemente, of Puerto Rico, found sportswriters at times quoting him phonetically, emphasizing his accented English -- “I get heet

Although such scrutiny of English skills has mostly faded in baseball, it occasionally reappears.

In Sports Illustrated this year, columnist Rick Reilly praised Chicago White Sox Manager Ozzie Guillen, calling him “the best skipper in the game.” However, Guillen, who is from Venezuela, also was repeatedly quoted phonetically, Reilly’s way of chiding him. In the column, Guillen called Reilly a racist for bringing up the manager’s accented English.

Nearly 30% of the 750 major league players were born outside the U.S., and thousands more hopefuls are playing in the minor leagues. Teams earmarked more than $75 million for baseball academies and signing bonuses in the Dominican Republic this year, said Lou Melendez, Major League Baseball’s vice president for international baseball operations.

“Teams are seeing a burgeoning population of Latino players, and when they come here, they are assuming more than a role of a baseball player,” Melendez said. “They have to order in restaurants and move around in a country that is completely different from theirs.”

Many baseball officials and players agreed that MLB is doing a fair job of helping players find their way.

“There used to be an old-school theory of once you are in the United States, you’ve got to survive on your own,” said Sal Artiaga, a consultant for MLB’s Latin development. “Now there’s a hand given by major league teams that helps players a lot.”

Although MLB has no formal policy on helping players get more comfortable with their surroundings, teams generally agree to provide English classes if they are requested, officials said. At times, though, players and scouts said talented players are rushed quickly through the minor leagues without gaining much in the way of language or cultural skills.

“Some will try to learn English, but they never really get the chance,” said Ralph Avila, who presided over the Dodgers’ Latin America program for more than 20 years. “The best-case scenario is that they learn the game’s terminology.”

Angels closer Francisco Rodriguez, from Venezuela, said he learned a lot of English from a former girlfriend.

“If you want to learn English fast, you have to dedicate yourself to it,” Rodriguez said. “You’ve got to learn, listen to other people, the conversations other people have.”

Of course, teams are still dealing with young players who, in many cases, are just thrilled to play baseball in the U.S. and remain far less concerned about how to order a cheeseburger.

Angels pitcher Ervin Santana participated in the Tempe classes five years ago as a teenager.

“Most of the Latin guys were joking around and didn’t pay much attention, not taking it too seriously,” said Santana, who is from the Dominican Republic. “I didn’t, because I wanted to learn. I wanted to be able to talk to guys on the street, in the park.”

The Tempe Angels, whose season ends at the end of this month, are representative of how diverse baseball has become. Nearly half of the players on the team’s roster were born outside the U.S.

They practice and play games in a virtual baseball incubator. There are no fans or stands, but plenty of bus rides and morning workouts. Games are played in relative quiet with the exception of frequent airplane noise from the nearby Phoenix airport.

Dugout chatter comes in Spanish -- “vamonos” (let’s go) -- as much as it does in English -- “good eye.”

At the Angels’ baseball complex, English classes are held in an office that, with its long oval table flanked with black chairs, could double for a corporate meeting room.

Becky Schnakenberg, who teaches the classes, said the Angels organization asked her to help with a player about nine years ago because of her language skills and counseling degree. She now works with nearly the entire league, which consists of nine teams around Phoenix.

“It’s a struggle to blend so many types of cultures together,” Schnakenberg said. “But when they learn English, they communicate better with their teammates and coaches, and are usually happier and less homesick.”

This year’s first lesson dealt with the alphabet; cards bearing baseball terms that correlated with letters -- B for bat, G for glove, etc. Others lessons dealt with maintaining bank accounts. The players also visited a restaurant and practiced placing orders in English. The classes cover basic skills, running only a couple of hours each week.

“It’s just like starting over from the first grade,” Vladimir Veras, 20, a pitcher from the Dominican Republic, said in Spanish. “You just have to pick up and start all over again.”

Although nine of Tempe’s foreign players were teammates on the Angels’ minor league team in the Dominican Republic, they struggle at times.

“The players who pick up the message are far more successful,” said Artiaga, who has written manuals aimed at helping players adjust, “because they are comfortable in their surroundings and able to relax.”

Several players and coaches said that linguistic problems rarely come up on the diamond.

Tempe Angels Manager Ever Magallanes and pitching coach Dan Ricabal are bilingual, and players bond through the unspoken language of the game, they said.

Still, pitcher Torres expects more long nights on the phone talking with his girlfriend, Maria, watching cartoons in an effort to learn English, and picking up whatever expressions he can as he goes about each day.

“In Venezuela, we would study English in class and then go home and not talk it,” Torres said in Spanish. “Here, it’s a constant. Everywhere I go, everyone is speaking English.”

*

Times staff writer Mike DiGiovanna contributed to this report.