Jose Abreu had not seen his son for two and a half years.
You see, normally when Cuban baseball players such as Abreu defect, they are prohibited from returning to the country for eight years. Yet when the U.S. normalized relations with the country last year, it created an opportunity for Abreu and others to return through a visit planned by Major League Baseball.
And in December, not only did the White Sox slugger get to see his son, but he also got another opportunity to show his fans back home how much he appreciates them.
“It was like being with Justin Bieber,” said Siera Santos, a Comcast SportsNet Chicago reporter who was part of a contingent of journalists invited on the trip. Cuban players Alexei Ramirez, a former White Sox shortstop, and Yasiel Puig were there as well. “People were cramming to see him. Everybody wanted to shake his hand, give him a hug, just say hello.”
Viewers will receive a glimpse into Abreu’s life when CSN debuts the documentary “Going Home: Jose Abreu” at 9:30 p.m. Tuesday. Santos chatted with RedEye about her impressions of Cuba, the restrictions defectors still face and the child to whom Abreu dedicated all his home runs.
What were you expectations heading into the trip and how did they change, if at all?
I didn’t know what to expect. You always see the classic cars and those types of things when you watch travel documentaries and that kind of thing. One thing that surprised me was the amount of American tourists that were there, especially for the jazz festival, which was starting up I believe the day we were leaving. That was enlightening. And we weren’t sure if we were going to have Internet. [The Cuban people] just got the Internet [in July]. You’ll drive down the street, and there will be a cluster of like 20-30 people sitting on the sidewalk like on benches with their laptops and iPads and cellphones and stuff all in these Wi-Fi hot spots that are scattered about Havana. It’s like everyone’s huddled together at all hours of the night with their laptops on outside.
People buy these little cards, like a calling card almost, and it’s got a code on it. It’s for like an hour. For like 2 CUCs [Cuban convertible pesos]. People will buy their minutes and sit there and go on the Internet.
I was really surprised by how receptive Cuban people are. They’re super nice. Really friendly, really warm, very hospitable despite there not being a whole lot of resources there. They’re very happy. You think of an oppressive regime and that type of thing, but I didn’t get that vibe.
Were there any signs of political tension on the trip?
There was a lot of political propaganda. Signs, posters. The daily newspaper is put out by the government. Their news channels are government-run, so there’s propaganda everywhere. It’s impossible not to notice it, whether it’s pro-Fidel [Castro], pro-Che [Guevara], that type of thing, it’s everywhere. Whereas here we’ve got a billboard for Coke, there it would be a billboard for Fidel.
What will viewers see in the documentary?
They’re going to see a different side of Jose Abreu that they’ve never seen before. He’s very sincere, he’s very humble, and I don’t think you realize what type of person he is until you see him in Cuba and how absolutely thrilled people are to see him again. Typically the reception has been mixed when players come back. If you research into what happens when Cubans defect, they can’t go back for eight years [because of Cuban government policy]. Sometimes they’re labeled as a traitor. Whereas Jose Abreu, they didn’t care that he had left. It didn’t matter, and I don’t think it was as big of a deal as it probably was in the past.
What was Abreu’s reaction to all the attention?
He said he could have never imagined the reception that he got. He was absolutely floored. They were excited to see the other players, but with Abreu, it was like being with Justin Bieber. People were cramming to see him. Everybody wanted to shake his hand, give him a hug, just say hello. People were taking out Cuban pesos and asking him to sign those. It didn’t matter what kind of jersey they had, they would ask him to sign it. People were asking them to sign their plain white T-shirts. Everybody wanted a picture with him, and I don’t think he denied one person a picture. He must have taken literally thousands when he was there because everywhere he went, people wanted a photo, they wanted to hug him. There were grown men crying that just wanted to give him a kiss on the cheek.
Alexei [Ramirez], he just reached his eight-year mark on defection, so he was able to return prior to the trip. I think he was there in either November or early December, so he hopped on a plane and went as soon as he could.
Why was the reception so welcoming? Simply because of who Abreu is?
Absolutely. There’s a boy who has some type of physical disability. He used to go to every single one of Jose Abreu’s games. And every single time he hit a home run, he would look up in the stands and point at the boy and dedicate the home run to him. He’s just such a person of the people. In our interview I ask him, “Who is Jose Abreu?” And he said, “Well, he’s a guajiro,” which means “peasant.” He really is from a small little town. I don’t want to say it’s a rags-to-riches story because that’s super cliche. But he really is just a simple guy who is really representative of Cubans. He’s not flashy with the way he dresses, and he didn’t forget where he came from. He also recognizes how difficult his journey has been, and I think people appreciate that, but he also gave a lot back to people when he was in Cuba.
Did you get to see his home?
No, he’s from a town called Cienfuegos, about three hours away from Havana, so he didn’t get to travel home. It was a very controlled environment. Yasiel Puig, he was not able to return home either. The players who have recently defected and have not reached their eight-year mark, they didn’t have free rein to go wherever they wanted to.
I think they understood that this was a really big opportunity, and I don’t think they would have risked that. Jose Abreu hadn’t seen his son since he was 2 years old, and now he’s 4. Somebody brought his son to come see him in Havana.
Alexei, he can go wherever he wants. [But] it’s never happened before that somebody was able to go back before their eight-year mark. The fact that they lifted the restriction for [Abreu and Puig] was huge.
Why do they call Abreu “Pito”?
“Pito” means “whistle,” and I believe they have a relative, his uncle, who used to play a guitar, and I guess he used to whistle along. It stuck, and that’s what he’s known as there. People don’t really call him “Jose” in Cuba. He’s such a hulking figure and totally “country strong,” you know what I mean? And he’s got like this cute little nickname, but it works for him because he’s such a nice guy.
I can only imagine having to leave your home for the good of your career and to the detriment of other aspects in your life.
I was going over the translations with one of my friends, and he’s from El Salvador. He was watching this interview where Jose is talking about where he made such a tough decision to leave his son and to leave his family to go play baseball in the U.S. And my friend’s sitting there nodding his head, and I could seem him starting to get a little bit choked up. I said, “What’s wrong?” and he said, “Es la historia de todos Latinos.” [“It’s the story of all Latinos.”] … I left my daughter when she was 2 and now she’s 13.” It’s a story that resonates with a lot of Latinos who come here to seek a better life and who leave behind their families and their lives and hope that they can do something better.
@redeyesportschi | chsosa@redeyechicago.com
Want to try a new fitness class? Start with the RedEye Skillz page.
