The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Dominicans party hearty
Players find fun in the game and don’t even try to hide it.
MIAMI — The Dominican Republic advanced to the World Baseball Classic semifinals not only with an undefeated record, but also in a fashion that it would be unlikely to get away with over the course of a major league season.
The Dominican team, which faces the Netherlands tonight, has celebrated every hit as if it were its last. Every putout as if it won the game. The players clench their fists, pound their chests, and scream — and that’s sometimes in the fourth inning. Never mind if they take a late lead. Then the whole dugout explodes, players bursting onto the field, like confetti out of a party popper.
“It was like Jose Reyes cloned himself,” R.A. Dickey, who pitched for the U.S. team, said, adding: “That’s how he always plays. All of a sudden, you have nine Jose Reyeses running around. It’s not real fun if you’re the opposition.”
Robinson Cano, who said that good team chemistry in part was responsible for all the festivities, said of Reyes, “He’s always on a high.”
Now they all are. The Dominicans rallied to beat Italy, outlasted the United States and beat Puerto Rico, all while the crowd backed them with equal enthusiasm. The fans screamed for every hit, every out, waving flags and blowing horns.
“What they’re showing is emotion — what I call, our culture,” Dominican manager Tony Pena said of his players. “It’s not like we’re trying to show up anybody. No, no.”
Perhaps not, but the constant celebration did not sit well with some of the U.S. players.
Brandon Phillips, the U.S. second baseman from Stone Mountain, said several American players were upset with the Dominicans’ show. If this were the major leagues, the Dominicans’ style might be viewed as less than an exhibition of fun, and more a violation of unwritten rules.
“I don’t think my dad would let me play the next day if I did that growing up,” said Willie Bloomquist, adding that he viewed all the celebrating as disrespectful.
Octavio Dotel, the Dominican reliever, explained that this tournament is like a World Series for his country’s team. He said that was how games in the Caribbean were played.
“Playing the way we’re playing, we got to enjoy it,” he said. “Like it or not — sorry. That’s how we play our game.”
Not everyone on the U.S. team, though, found the contrast to be a problem. Dickey felt etiquette was not the same for the WBC, a unique elimination tournament, and an international one at that. But the emotion and energy simply would not be sustainable over a major league season, he said. After 40 games, he figured, players and fans would wear out.
Phillips laughed when the Dominican starter, Samuel Deduno, skipped off the mound, his arms held high.
“If I was on their team, I would fit right in,” he said, smiling. “Y’all have seen me play during the season. Y’all know I’m into some sort of antics.”
He added: “But I don’t think I could have been like that, though. If I think something is over the top, then that’s a problem.”