In a league of its own: Puerto Rico’s Doble A

By Hiram Alberto Torraca

Gabriel Roa played two seasons with the Spokane (Wash.) Indians, a short-season Single-A affiliate for the Texas Rangers. Five years later, he labors at a factory back home in Puerto Rico, with an early-morning shift that starts at 5 a.m. and ends at 2:30 p.m.

Jorge “Kikito” Jiménez made it all the way to the Triple-A Pawtucket (R.I.) Red Sox in 2010. He also played in Mexico and Taiwan. After six minor league seasons, he also is back on the island, teaching baseball and looking to start an academy.

But there’s no need for pity. They are still out there rounding the bases and drawing crowds.

Roa, 26, and Jiménez, 33, now star in the Liga Béisbol Superior Doble A de Puerto Rico, a semipro island-wide tournament that runs on weekends from spring to late summer, pitting town versus town. Not much different from the early days of baseball, when the game was played by neighboring social or athletic clubs who issued challenges to each other.

“I can work eight, nine, 10 hours a day, but baseball is what I love. It’s my passion, and work doesn’t prevent me from going to the ballpark and giving 100 percent,” Roa said in an interview in Spanish with La Vida Baseball.

Old-fashioned values

Founded as an amateur league in the 1930s, Doble A has survived several iterations over the decades but has never lost its grassroots charm and its mission to promote the game. While it turned semipro in 2006, allowing teams to recruit professionals — including those who are active in winter ball — the slogan on its website remains an anachronism, a sentiment seemingly from the past:

We play hard here to make better citizens.”

And now, after a successful 2017 campaign that ended four days before Hurricane María struck the island on Sept. 20, Doble A is back with 38 teams in six divisions playing a modified 20-game schedule.

The new season opened on April 1. But instead of playing on Friday, Saturday and Sunday, this year, as a concession to life on the island post-María, the league will play Sunday double-headers starting at 10 a.m.

Roa and the Titanes de Florida and Jiménez and the Sultanes de Mayaguez met in last year’s finals, with the Sultanes winning the championship in six games, a hard-fought series that cost one manager his job after Game 2.

That’s right. Luis Arroyo, the Titanes’ skipper, was let go after losing the first two games. Doble A might not pay much, but it takes its baseball just as seriously as the major leagues.

All this for what they call in Spanish dieta, or meal stipend — a perk that tops out at $150 per game for the better players.

More than baseball

Doble A is much more than baseball. It’s a pillar of Puerto Rican culture, the pride and joy of many towns who don’t have teams representing them in other sports.

Through the early 2000s, it was a source of talent for the national teams representing the island in international competitions, including the Olympics and the baseball World Cup. And later, it was a second-chance league for major leaguers trying to return to The Show, like the Cubs’ backup catcher René Rivera.

And through it all, Doble A has been known for its vocal and passionate fans whose infectious energy prods the players to play hard during every pitch and every at-bat.

“I played in front of 10,000 fans in the minor leagues and it doesn’t compare to 2,000 Puerto Rican fans at a Doble A game. The music and the racket start with the first inning and don’t end until the last episode. There’s never a quiet moment, and that gives players extra motivation,” Roa said.

Bat flips after a home run? Animated fist pumps after a strikeout? All are a welcome part of the game. Jiménez lived it up during the finals, going 8-for-17 with a home run, two doubles, eight RBI and five runs scored.

“When I played professional ball, I felt like an amateur,” Jiménez said in an interview in Spanish with La Vida Baseball. “I’m a vocal person. I like to talk, to show my emotions and that’s something you don’t see much in professional baseball. That’s the way I play the game and that’s why I love Doble A. You do everything with passion. You can display your emotions and your opponents will rarely get upset because they are just like you.”

Focal point of life

In Doble A, they don’t worry about the pace of the game, either. Four-hour games are routine, even desirable, because it’s the weekend highlight for many fans. Just show up with your favorite fried fritters and cold drinks.

And when a team makes it to the playoffs and gets to the finals, the whole town puts life on pause until the series is over. That’s what happened last September with Florida, a small town of about 12,000 people located on the north coast in the center of the island.

Who could blame them? It was the Titanes’ first finals since Florida’s only championship way back in 1982.

“The Titanes have always been a focal point for the town,” said Mayor José Gerena Polanco in an interview in Spanish with La Vida Baseball. “That was our first final in 35 years, and there was enormous joy in our town. I was 12 when we won in 1982 and I’ve never forgotten it. The generation that never saw a championship finally got to experience what their grandparents and parents had talked about all those years.”

Not surprisingly, Doble A is quite the intimate experience. The Titanes’ ballpark seats only 1,000 people. Last year, during the sectional finals and the league finals, they played their home games in the neighboring city of Manatí.

Telling the manager what to do

Regardless of where teams play, chances are family, friends, neighbors and colleagues are front row, actively supporting the players and voicing their opinions.

“I work in the town of Florida, and it’s normal that when you go out for coffee or lunch, fans will recognize you and come up to you,” said Arroyo in an interview in Spanish with La Vida Baseball. “They will tell you what they think you should do. Sometimes after a game they will telephone you, anxious and desperate. And in social media, they won’t overlook a thing. It’s a very interesting dynamic.”

Arroyo pitched in the minors for the Padres, Mets, Marlins, Blue Jays, Red Sox and Reds, plus played for several independent leagues and in Mexico. Nothing, he said, compares to Doble A.

“You see many passionate fans in professional baseball. But the ones in Doble A are much more euphoric. They get into the game, they live it,” said Arroyo, who now works as an instructor at the Carlos Beltrán Baseball Academy in Puerto Rico.

“It’s different, a much more small-town feel. Since the ballparks are smaller in size, you feel the fans closer to you and you hear all that they say, good or bad,” Jiménez said.

“It’s been a good experience for me. My dad played Doble A for 15 years and I grew up in this baseball environment. In fact, when I was in college, before I signed pro, I played in the league at 19.”

Amateur only in name

Jiménez hasn’t missed a season since 2012. Stephen Morales, who managed the Sultanes to the championship last year, will not get to defend his title this season after being hired as a minor league coach by the Pirates. While he welcomes the promotion, you sense a tinge of regret in his voice.

“It’s incredible how much warmth you feel in a small town,” Morales said. “Everyone gets involved, including the businesses.”

“Baseball is the same game everywhere,” he added. “Professional is just a title. I’ve seen many amateur players with unbelievable talent. The mix of professionals and amateurs gives this league a different flavor.”

Last season, more than 100 former pros played in the league. Of course, most of them now need a full-time job to be able to play baseball part-time. It’s a price most willingly pay to continue in the game.

“When you are playing in professional leagues, you spend the whole day at the park,” Jiménez said. “Now I have to work 40 hours a week at something else and then afterwards go train and play. It’s an adjustment. But I love it. I love this kind of baseball and I’m going to continue playing for as long as I can.”

Featured Image: Ángel Santiago

Inset Images: Ángel Santiago