Among fans, baseball game prevails over any politics

By Chris Moran
UNION-TRIBUNE STAFF WRITER

The last time Willie Suarez drove 18 hours anywhere, it was in a light-armored vehicle from Kuwait to Baghdad, Iraq. But he drove his SUV from Tacoma, Wash., on Sunday to the championship game of the World Baseball Classic last night at Petco Park.
“It's a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity,” the Cuban-born Suarez said. And he made another thing clear: “You're supporting your team, not your government.”

As Japan and Cuba competed on the field, a spirit of international cooperation prevailed in the stands. Suarez photographed Masako Miwa of Japan in her kimono under a sign with the words, “Baseball spoken here,” and she returned the favor by snapping a shot of him in the same spot.
Miyazaki Ryo, who booked a flight from Tokyo to San Diego the moment Japan made it to the semifinals, bought his ticket to last night's game just a few hours earlier from a Dominican whose team was eliminated by Cuba on Saturday.

The game, won by Japan, 10-6, attracted a sellout crowd of 42,696 despite cold weather that prompted some fans to wrap themselves in blankets.

There were no conspicuous political statements or protests.

One fan, Jose Hernandez, who came from Las Vegas to watch the game, said he fled Cuba 15 years ago to escape the communist regime that imprisoned him for seven years.

When asked if he thought it was fair to prevent Cuban baseball players from leaving the island nation, Hernandez said no one is holding them back.

“I think if they wanted to leave, they would have done so already,” he said. “That's a decision I respect. People here play baseball for money. In Cuba, baseball is played for the heart and soul.”

For Sekine Masayuki, who lives in a suburb of Tokyo, the game was part of an annual ritual. He was attending the World Baseball Classic for this year's reunion with his friends Packy and Kelly Bannevans of Atlanta, who annually meet him for a baseball game somewhere in the United States.

“He just comes wherever baseball is,” explained Packy, who wore an Atlanta Braves cap with a Japanese fan tucked in the back of it like a peacock's tail.
“This is really more of a world series than our World Series. You have international competition here. You don't just have one team from Canada (as in Major League Baseball).” The Bannevans and Masayuki found another “Baseball spoken here” banner to pose under for their group portrait.

They were headed toward a line for the Padres store that snaked from the store's entrance near Tony Gwynn Drive to behind the bullpen. Fans were looking for anything with their favorite team's name or logo on it – hats, headbands, jackets and jerseys.

Nearby, two Japanese students in San Diego to study English were marveling at their luck in getting tickets outside for face value. “A baseball fan I'm not. This is kind of a festival,” said Kyoko Shirotori, who didn't plan to attend the game until she learned Japan had made it into the championship.

Her friend Yuzo Kurihara said not only was the price right, but their tickets were in right field, affording them the best view of Japan's right-fielder, Ichiro Suzuki.

The Japanese fans outside the park were more subdued than the Cubans, who announced their presence in red sweat suits, flags tied around their necks as capes and loud chatter in Spanish.

“Maybe compared to Cuban people, Japanese are more shy,” Kurihara said, “but I don't know today.”

A trio that played Cuban songs just inside the south entrance attracted dancers and a television news crew, while a trio by the K Street entrance performed serene Japanese folk songs on kotos –instruments with 13 strings – and a shakuhachi –a large bamboo flute.

Inside Petco Park, the Japanese showed their pride by covering an entire section in left field under a huge Japanese flag during the playing of the country's national anthem. And as their team scored four runs in the first inning, dozens of rising sun flags and handmade signs sprouted in support.

As with Saturday's game, the Cubans came armed with various percussion instruments that provided a rhythmic accompaniment for every rally.

Edward Vazquez, born in Cuba and now a resident of Garden Grove, came down with his children in hopes of connecting them to their roots. He said he also admired how the Cubans played from the heart and not for the millions of dollars that major-league players in the United States receive.

“I think everyone has come together to play one of the greatest games in the world,” said his brother, Enny Vazquez. “We're having a big old party in San Diego.”

Ivan Orozco and staff writer David Graham contributed to this report.