Los Mal Suerte Osos

Last week was the first Rural Baseball Tournament of Honduras, held to commemorate Peace Corps’ 45th anniversary and the creation of the Honduran Federation of Baseball. This was a tournament for Peace Corps volunteers with baseball teams from all over the country, such as us, and we all converged on the capital of Tegucigalpa with our teams of kids between the ages of 8 and 12.

While football (soccer to you gringos) will always reign supreme in Honduran sports, other sports are also popular, especially basketball and volleyball. The creation of the Honduran Federation of Baseball is an attempt to spread the popularity of baseball throughout Honduras. Essentially to my understanding, this is a program sponsored by MLB in the states to foster understanding of baseball in other areas of Latin America, and therefore create more recruiting opportunities for MLB in the years to come. Those that follow Major League Baseball will know that a lot of talented ballplayers come out of countries such as Mexico, Nicaragua, Venezuela, The Dominican Republic, and Cuba. Within urban areas of Honduras there has been a history of baseball team organizations, much like our little league, but accessible only to the elite. As baseball equipment is expensive and knowledgeable coaches are scare within the rural areas, this program and its grants allows the poor kids in the country access to the sport of baseball. Currently, there are 10 teams supported by the initial grant, and plans are to double the amount of teams by next year.

We actually have two teams, one in Las Vegas and another in El Mochito. In the time between the last volunteers and our arrival in site, the Las Vegas team fell apart, but we found a wonderful coach in El Mochito who loves baseball, and can explain the finer points of baseball in Spanish. (Just trying to explain a force out to a kid in English can be difficult, but with our Spanish it can be impossible!) Therefore, with our two coaches, three volunteers, one parent chaperone, and 12 kids, we jammed into a minivan for the 5 hour drive to Tegus.
We had a celebration much a kin to an Olympic Opening Ceremony, complete with an exhibition baseball game, and the opening pitch was thrown by the US Ambassador in Honduras. However, the “hotel” provided for the weekend was a nightmare. All the kids were separated by sex, all the girls (including coaches) slept in a giant hostel, whereas all the boys got sent to the Air Force Barracks. Despite the different locals, Crystal and I had similar experiences. Placing 100 kids in a giant room with bunk beds is a mistake. Each day was the same: the first three hours after we got to the “Hotel” there were kids running around kicking footballs, each other, and always screaming, fueled by copious amounts of cake, soda, and what must have been cocaine judging by their actions. They would go to sleep at about 10pm, but both groups took it upon themselves to wake up at 430am, running, screaming, and beating each other once again, only this time without clothes. My being woken at 4:30am to five kids pulling two naked boys across the floor on a bed mattress like some evil dogsled team while screaming like banshees will haunt me for the rest of my natural days. Needless to say nobody sleep the entire weekend, and the lack of screens on windows left Crystal and I covered with mosquito bites.

The next day we had two games in the elimination round. Our first game was super close: last inning, bases loaded, two outs, and our best hitter at the plate, who then struck out, a perfect baseball moment. The other team we faced was by far superior, we borrowed a ringer pitcher from a Tegus league and they still beat us 11-0. However, our kids played well in their first two baseball games ever. Regardless of our record, it was a valuable experience for all of the kids, allowing them to encounter kids from all over the country and to partake in something trivial that we take for granted like a tournament. One of our kids stood mouth agape in amazement as he saw his first airplane in person circle the city. Crystal’s favorite memory from the tourney was our catcher after the awards ceremony running down the bleachers with a diploma in one hand, a medal of participation in the other, and a screaming mouth covered in cake frosting. It is these moments that comprise Peace Corps, the horrible and wonderful together, the ability to give an experience special and lasting in a person’s life.