La Vida Voices: Marcos Bretón of the Sacramento Bee
By Adrian Burgos
Marcos Bretón was someone I respected, followed and read. As one of the few Latinos regularly featured on ESPN’s “The Sports Reporters” in the 1990s, I connected with Bretón’s perspective. So, back in 2000 when I was invited to join him on a panel discussing Latinos, I jumped at the opportunity (the fact that Minnie Miñoso was also going to be involved made it even more memorable).
I was a University of Michigan doctoral student, but Marcos was already a seasoned veteran. He had also recently published “Away Games” on baseball in the Dominican Republic and ESPN was only one of a handful of places his perspective was being published or aired.
While the panel was interesting, what won the day for me was the dinner that followed. Marcos put on his reportero cap, sharing stories about covering the baseball beat and asking questions that primed Minnie to tell his own stories.
Now a Sacramento Bee columnist, Marcos continues to bring a Latino perspective to the events, teams and players he covers nearly 20 years later. I was excited to catch up with him recently and discuss the role baseball has played in his life and career.
Adrian Burgos, Jr: You grew up a son of Mexican immigrants in northern California. Tell us how that experience influenced your Latino baseball perspective. Tell us about what sparked your love of baseball and inspired you to become a journalist?
Marcos Bretón: My dad was named Reynaldo Breton and he inspired my love of baseball. I actually loved football first and he hated football until the day he died. He used to say: “Why don’t they just give each guy a ball so they stop jumping on each other”? Anyway, when I was 8, I was finally ready to embrace the game and he took me to a Giants-Phillies double-header on June 6, 1971. The Giants dropped the first game 1-0, but then rallied to take the second in extra innings. It was won with a walk-off home run by the immortal Willie Mays. And on that day a love affair was born.
Baseball would be a huge bond between my dad and me for the rest of his life. I took him to the 1984 All-Star game, where Fernando Valenzuela struck out Reggie Jackson, Dave Winfield and George Brett – looking! My dad jumped up and yelled “Arriba El Toro!” I was at Dodger Stadium [when] Fernando Valenzuela throw a no-hitter in 1990. I called my dad from the stadium. In 2008, when the Red Sox rallied to beat the [Devil] Rays in an ALCS game, I picked up the phone to call my dad. As I heard the dial tone I suddenly had a mournful thought: He was gone. He had passed away in September of 2008 and our bond was so strong that I had forgotten in my joy at a great game I wanted to share with him. That’s how I learned to love baseball
My mother – Elodia Breton – inspired me to be a journalist. She used to read the evening edition of the San Jose Mercury News from cover to cover. And through her, I developed a love of newspapers. Being journalist is the only real career goal I’ve ever had.
AB: Your parents indeed sound inspirational. Let’s talk about talk about a couple of inspiring Latino ballplayers you got to see perform: Roberto Clemente and Fernando Valenzuela. What do these two figures represent to you?
MB: The first World Series I ever watched was the 1971 series. And of course, Roberto Clemente was the MVP. As it happens, I was rooting for the Baltimore Orioles because my little league team was named the Orioles. But Clemente would not be denied and I remember he seemed to jump off the TV screen to me. He ran differently. He carried himself differently. He seemed to play baseball as if his life depended on it. I later heard someone say that Clemente wore a baseball uniform like some men wear tuxedos. It’s true.
But what really got me was after the Pirates had won the series. Clemente was interviewed on live TV. And before he answered his first question, he saluted his parents in Spanish. I didn’t realize what a huge impression that made on me until 37 years later. In April of 2008, I was being interviewed by Ken Burns’ company for the documentary, the Tenth Inning. Ken and his co-director Lynn Novick had invited me because I had written so much about Latino players. And as I recounted that Clemente story, I felt a wave of emotion. I began crying on camera and it was bizarre because I felt like it was an out of body experience. Like I was watching myself react to seminal moment in my life and that I hadn’t even realized it until then. As a son of Mexican immigrants, I had never seen a Latino person who was successful in a truly American endeavor like baseball.
And in those years we were always being told not to speak Spanish and Roberto was having none of that. It instilled a sense of pride that was so important to the 8-year-old I was. And it foreshadowed a feeling I would embrace when I wrote my book about Latinos in baseball: That baseball is our game too.
The explosion of Fernando Valenzuela onto the scene in 1981 created a real dilemma for me – I’m a Giants fan! And in those years, my team was so bad. We had never won a World Series in San Francisco and the first title was still nearly 30 years away. So I was bitter as all Giants fans were in those years. And the target of my bitterness were the Dodgers. So here comes Fernando, the first giant star of baseball born in Mexico – my ancestral homeland.
My Mexican-born dad was a huge Dodgers fan (yes, my dad was a Dodgers fan) and he was over the moon. The first time Fernando pitched at Candlestick Park, we were there. And I mean, we drove up in a caravan of Mexicanos who were buddies of my dad. It was an event. We got there early, even though it was a weeknight. It seemed like every Mexican in Northern California was there that night. And when Fernando came out onto the field, the crowd lost it. Everyone was excited but me. I was so conflicted.
As a Mexican-American I was proud to the point of tears. But as a Giants fan, I was miserable because they were so much better than us.
As it happens, Fernando got a no decision and didn’t pitch particularly well, But, he was the breakout star of 1981 but it would be years before I could openly appreciate what he did.
AB: “Away Games” was the first intimate look into the Dominican baseball pipeline for many baseball fans. What inspired you to write that book? What story or person during that process left the most indelible mark on you, and why?
MB: I was interested in writing “Away Games” for one reason: The story of Latinos in baseball had not been told in a comprehensive manner. There had been some books that used secondary sources to chronicle pioneering Latinos. But there hadn’t been a book that told the story of modern day players through their eyes. The key was finding a protagonist and we hit the jackpot with Miguel Tejada. He was an impoverished kid who was on the periphery until he arrived for his first Spring Training in 1996 and blew up as a player. His story was part of a continuum of players from Latin America. What made our book different is that we told the stories of the older players through their own words. It was a joyride of a project and I can’t believe that it published 20 years ago this Spring.
AB: Voting for the Hall of Fame perhaps ranks as the coolest responsibility as a BBWAA member. What does it mean for you to have that vote? Given your time covering the game, reflect on what it means to Latinos that for the first time ever there will be two Latinos (Mariano Rivera and Edgar Martinez) voted into the Hall of Fame.
MB: I’m honored to be a Hall of Fame voter, and it was my honor to vote for Mariano Rivera, Edgar Martínez, Omar Vizquel, Manny Ramírez and Miguel Tejada this year. By writing about baseball in the 1990s and early 2000s, I had a front row seat to the explosion of Latino talent in the big leagues. It was years in the making. The presence of these players has enhanced the game. These men are no longer on the fringes of baseball. They are central to the game and [it has] been my honor to witness it and document it.
AB: You’ve transitioned from sportswriting to a columnist, writing on all topics affecting Sacramento and California while still giving voice to the Latino and Mexican-American perspectives. What are the Latino issues that you feel are getting the least attention right now and how do you see the role of baseball (if any) potentially giving light to these issues?
MB: As a news columnist I am using my platform to push back against a rising tide of hostility to Latino people. Our ancestors have done great things for our country and we should never allow anyone – including the President of the United States – to falsely label us. The connective tissue between what I write now and baseball is quite clear. Ballplayers were simply immigrants who came to America to find their place. They experienced discrimination, loneliness, cultural barriers, language barriers and all the other barriers that all immigrants.
They persevered, they succeeded and sometimes some of us would rise up and speak out against injustice, as the great Clemente did.
Those of us who are descendants of people from Latin American countries have a complicated relationship with the United States. Many of us feel that we can be Americans while retaining the customs of our ancestors. We reject having to discard those customs, or the Spanish language, because they are central to who we are. And some of us have seen the damaged caused in our communities by self-hatred. Ballplayers long ago figured this out and they have excelled at the highest levels while loving who they are and loving America. I’ve been proud to tell their stories and the stories of other Latinos in other walks of life who are hitting out of the park in their own way.
AB: It was great catching up with you, Marcos. Your connection with the game and perspective are always a joy to experience and share. Be sure to follow Marcos on Twitter:
Featured Image: Marcos Bretón
Inset Images: Marcos Bretón