Back in March I told my wife, “I think I’ve found my people.”  I was sitting in my rental car along a dark sideroad eating a pupusa I’d bought from a street cart.  Mexico had just beaten Puerto Rico in the World Baseball Classic’s second round, securing their spot in the Semifinals against Japan.  I’d been to the World Baseball Classic finals back in 2009 when Japan beat Korea for their second championship.  To date, it was the greatest baseball game I’d ever seen in person.  It wasn’t just the game, a true battle that went to extra innings, it was the environment and the fans.  The constant battling cheers of ‘Nippon’ (Japan) and ‘Dae Han Min Gook’ (Korea) rang through Dodger Stadium as flags moved through the lower bowl.

As Mexico battled Puerto Rico, the stands were a melting pot of Latin countries.  Fans were draped in their country’s colors, flags, and hats, and while the heavily favored Dominican Republic had been eliminated, that didn’t stop hundreds of fans from supporting their team, while shifting their allegiance for the rest of the week.  (It seemed like most of them were cheering for Mexico in this one.)  There were horns and cheers, and even a handful of luchador masks.  As a fan of the game, the environment was perfect, but what I saw next was different, and in the best way possible.  A band was out front and fans of every team were dancing in the streets.  What I saw was joy.

“I think I’ve found my people.”  I didn’t mean a specific country.  What I’d found was a baseball culture that was irresistible.  It wasn’t Mexico, or Puerto Rico, or Venezuela, or the Dominican.  It was the Latin culture of baseball.  And I needed to see it in person.

I’d found JapanBall online a few years back.  I already mentioned my love of the Japan/Korea series back in 2009, and had been hoping to visit Japan at some point too.  JapanBall’s owner, Shane, used to work for Major League Baseball, and was in Florida with the WBC, so I dropped him a note about grabbing lunch.  I’d wanted to get an idea of how his tours worked, and quite honestly to see if he seemed like a guy I could travel with.  About 90% of my baseball travel is done solo, so the idea of being on a tour felt a little weird.  We grabbed lunch at a rundown-looking shack of a Caribbean restaurant, which for me was already a good sign.  I don’t eat at chains on the road.  I want to eat as local as I can, and this one was definitely ‘local’.  We talked a lot about his tours, his background, and pretty much left it at that.  But I’d heard what I needed.  I was in.

We landed in the Dominican Republic on Constitution Day.  The drive from the airport traced the waterfront, passing a long stretching row of shuttered businesses.  I didn’t know if they were all closed because of the holiday, or if it was a sign of a struggling economy.  As the 10 days went on, I realized that in most cases, it was the economy.  I won’t sugar coat it:  The Dominican Republic is a poor country.  The infrastructure isn’t great, road laws are a guideline at best, and it is a true ‘hustle economy’.  And to clarify, ‘hustle economy’ is not a negative.  Over the 10 days I saw men and women selling bags of chips or candy on clips on the sidewalk, people offering to shine my shoes on side streets, and selling oddities like steering wheel cover, wiper blades, and even pillows, as they walked up and down the middle of the road at stoplights, doing anything they can to make ends meet. 

The tour itself didn’t start until the next day, so I spent the rest of the afternoon and early evening on foot walking the city.  I grabbed an iced juice and stopped to watch a foursome playing dominos in a park, then after sundown walked across the street to the small lit fairgrounds and their handful of carnival rides.  I passed a park that was absolutely loaded with families, and a row of tables set up with families BBQ’ing in the early dusk.  Few, if any of them, were on phones.  Instead, kids were running and playing, families and friends were talking, some dancing, while others ate.  I saw a lot of that over the next week and a half.  Phones are expensive, so you don’t see many kids and teenagers running around with phones.  It just felt like everywhere I turned, people were in the moment.  I had a “Dominican Flag” for dinner (La Bandera Dominicana); chicken, rice, bean, and plantains.

I spent the next morning and afternoon on foot, turning right outside the hotel instead of left this time.  I am far from fluent, but I can understand and speak enough Spanish to walk around for a bit.  It felt good to stretch my legs, and by mid morning I grabbed a fresh chicken and corn empanada and a bottle of water.  You’ll buy bottles of water pretty much everywhere you go, which will usually cost you around 25 cents.  Their tap water isn’t potable, and you’ll get used to throwing toilet paper in the trash can by the toilet vs in the toilet itself, since the sewers can’t process the paper.  (The kinds of things we take for granted at home.)  The empanada and water were 60 Dominican pesos, which came out to about $1.07 US.  If you’re wondering why water costs over $1 in the US, but only 25 cents in the DR, keep in mind that the average salary in the Dominican is less than $400 a month.  (Stress on the less.)  A quick side note on money:  Be sure to exchange US dollars for Dominican Pesos, otherwise you’re going to overpay for everything.  ¿Cuántos pesos?  It’s OK if you don’t go in speaking Spanish, but asking how many pesos in Spanish will help your odds of getting the right price.  Go in understanding some basic numbers.  Fifty, one hundred, two hundred, etc.  Also understand that the Dominican Republic is a service economy.  If someone is offering to help you – carry anything, directions, anything – offer to tip them.  100 Dominican pesos is less than $2 US, but as you read above, can be enough for a meal.

By late afternoon we were having our first meeting as a group.  I’m going to shoot straight here.  I didn’t know if traveling as a group was going to be for me.  I’d met Shane and felt good with him, but the idea of traveling with a group of a dozen strangers wasn’t on the top of my list.  I work with people pretty much every day, and the nice thing about traveling solo is that I can just shut off.  I can be social if I want, or I can just be in my own silo.  But a tour?  I was going to have to roll with it.  And honestly?  I’m happy I did.  It was a good time, and the people on the tour all had a similar vibe – Which in reality, makes sense.  At the end of the day, we’re all huge baseball fans, or we wouldn’t be here, right?

Shane introduced me to his right hand man, Pachi, who greeted me with a hug.  Pachi is fluent in English, and used to work at one of the customer service call centers, among other things, in the DR.  Evidently it’s one of the jobs that pays really well, but there’s only so long you can have people bitching at you every day.  (He put it a lot more diplomatically.)  I felt a good connection with Pachi from the start, then shook hands with Thomas, who was acting as our security for the trip.  Thomas is quiet, but friendly, and we bonded quite a bit too.  I spent a lot of time with the two of them, as well as our driver, Alfredo, during the 10 days.  I tried to speak as much Spanish as I could with them, as we used Google translate as a crutch when any of us would get hung up on which word to use.  Like I mentioned, I’m not fluent in Spanish, but for me it was really important to try.  I’m in their country, it’s only right I do my best.  And honestly?  I could tell they appreciated it.  I spent most of our meals at the ends of the table with the 3 of them.

I didn’t know what to expect from our group.  The first person I met was Ron, who funny enough is also from Seattle.  He’s a Husky, which was a strike against him, but a good guy.  Gwen was from San Francisco.  We had Danny, Dave (who for some reason I thought was named Matt for the first few days,) Tom, and John, and Sidney and Austin rounded out the group.  Sidney handles social media for JapanBall and Austin was her plus one.  While I didn’t ask anyone’s age, I figured 50-65 between the group (outside of Sidney and Austin, who were probably just under 30).  The nice thing about traveling with a group of baseball fans is that everyone has experience traveling to parks.  There wasn’t anyone on the tour that hadn’t been to a handful of parks, or in John’s case, hundreds of parks.  Some had been to Japan with JapanBall before, and a few people that came onto the tour mid-week had done the South end of the DR on a past tour.  Any fears I had of being comfortable with the group were answered pretty quickly.

There were some really specific reasons I did a tour vs doing the Dominican Republic on my own.  For as much as I’ve traveled, the majority of my travel has just been in the US and Canada.  I’ve been to Mexico, Belize, and the Bahamas, but at the end of the day, the areas I was in were Americanized enough that they weren’t hard to navigate.  The Dominican Republic is not an easy place to navigate.  Beyond the language barrier, which I could have managed, the DR feels like a logistical nightmare.  How Alfredo was able to drive everywhere we went those 10 days is beyond me.  Imagine driving a tour bus down alleyways, or crossing traffic where cars don’t stop for you, or turning the wrong way down the one way streets, because that’s where you need to go, and that’s just how they drive there.  Alfredo’s driving was a work of art.  The guy never broke a sweat, and I didn’t either, because he clearly knew what he was doing.  The other reason for the tour?  The depth of it.  We saw things this week that I never would have seen or even thought of if I’d tried to do the trip by myself.

Game 1 of 6 for the 10 days is the Tigres del Licey (Licey Tigers) vs Estrellas Orientales (Eastern Stars).  The Tigers are basically the Dominican Yankees.  They’re the most popular team in the DR, and have the most championships of any team.  When you’re in a 6-team league, every team has won the championship at some point, but the Tigres are the country’s oldest running team and have the most Caribbean championships (the series that is played by each Caribbean country’s league champion – this year’s championship is in Miami).  It’s trophy night as Robinson Cano takes the field with Estrellas.  It’s a modest crowd for the night, but still lively.  There’s a house DJ along with a drum section that keep the fans going.  The left field stands are completely packed; tickets were free in the section that night.  I asked Pachi why there weren’t more fans there tonight and he said that the games are pretty expensive for a lot of the locals, but that they pack the stands for their biggest rivals, the Águilas Cibaeñas (Eagles).

Walking the concourse was a bit of a surprise.  I expected more local flavor at the ballpark, but the first thing I saw walking in was a Wendy’s.  They had pizza and hot dogs, along with an empanada stand, but their food selection was a little slim.  I grabbed a hot dog and a Presidente, the local beer that is owned by the government, then grabbed an empanada during a brief rain delay.  We made our way to our seats to watch the rest of the game, as Estrellas no-hit the Tigres with 5 pitchers.  It was my first no hitter, a pretty badass way to start the trip!

One thing I appreciated, much to my surprise, were some of the off-baseball tours we did.  There was a good balance to the 10 days.  Our next full day was spent at the Colonial Zone and doing some touring around.  We had lunch at Mesón de Bari, one of the places that Anthony Bourdain hit on his TV show, ‘Parts Unknown’, and did some shopping at the Mercado Modelo (a tourist trap) and a local grocery store.  For the record, there’s a reason the postcards at the market look 15-20 years old.  They don’t have traditional mail service, so if you buy postcards to send to your family, the front desk at your hotel will look at you like an alien when you ask if they sell stamps!  Don’t ask me how I know.  Haha.  For as poor as the country and area is – and Santo Domingo is a nicer area – I was surprised at how clean and well stocked their grocery store was.  Oh, and I had goat for lunch.

We started Thursday at the oldest ballpark in the Dominican Republic, El Estadio De La Normal.  The ballpark has sadly fallen into a state of disrepair.  The old seats are sun bleached, brittle, or missing altogether.  Weeds grow along the dugout fencing as years of paint flake away from the elements. The dirt behind Homeplate and around the dugouts is saturated and thick, like walking through wet cement.  They coach young kids here, kids that are hoping to get discovered and in a way ‘sold’ to more established camps.  Kids start off playing on smaller teams before getting discovered.  In most cases they’ll sign a contract with another coach/scout to join their academy.  In exchange for 20-50% of their future signing bonus with an MLB club, the coach will house the players in one of their dorms, feed them, and sometimes coordinate their schooling.  They’re ‘buscones’, part agent, part coach, part hustler.  The 20-50% is a sizeable bonus for a lot of buscones, but for every 20 players they coach, they might only see a signing bonus from one of them at most, so in a way they’re a necessary evil.  (One academy we visited hasn’t had a signing in 3 years.)  They’re providing food and shelter – which sadly may be better than they have at home – for the promise of future riches.  If that player doesn’t get signed, at least they had a steady roof and food for the 1-3 years they were with the academy.  Adopting an International Draft would create a lot of change in an industry that from the sounds of things, has a lot of corruption in it.

Lunch was at Chicharrones De La Cayetano.  There are a few ‘Chicharrones De La Cayetano’, since that’s the name of the area, but the best known one has a black sign with a pig on it.  There was a good lineup when we got there, and they serve pretty much one main thing:  Chicarrones, which are fried pork belly and pork skin.  It was a tasty mix of pork rinds, that were a little too crunchy for me, and some thicker and super flavorful pork belly that tasted a lot more like Mexican carnitas.  I’m a Coke guy, but Shane recommended giving the jugo de cereza (cherry juice) a try.  I don’t love cherries, but figured I’d give it a go, and yeah, that was the first of my 6 cherry juices that week plus.  Juice is everywhere in the Dominican; if it’s not at the restaurant, it’s being sold at countless carts or coolers across the country on street corners and side streets.  The chicharrones were great fuel before our stop at the Valdez Hitting Club, the premier facility in the DR.  Juan Soto, along with a number of MLB stars, practice there in the offseason.  It doesn’t look much different than a local batting cage here in the US, but for the Dominican Republic, it’s top tier.  I took a few hacks before we made our way to the MLB office in downtown Santo Domingo.

Remember what I said about doing and seeing things I wouldn’t have been able to do, or known to do in the DR?  If some of our food choices weren’t enough, we saw a lot of behind-the-scenes things during the 10 days too.  Stops at little league fields, baseball academies, the MLB office in the DR, and more.  That was a definite plus one to the experience with JapanBall.  The trip to the MLB office was interesting, they spoke about how they do background/identity checks on the players ahead of their signings and some of the challenges they run in to.  Next we made our way to the Case Museo Peloteros Profesionales, which operates not only as a museum to professional ballplayers, but as the Dominican Republic Baseball Hall Of Fame.

Game 2, the Leones del Escogido (Lions) vs Estrellas was shorter than the last game.  They got a few innings in before a lengthy delay and ultimately a rainout.  If there was a bright side to the rainout, it’s that the Leones share a stadium with the Tigres, so we’d already seen the park.  We made our way through the rain soaked streets to Barra Payan for sandwiches on a long covered patio.  The sandwiches were basically paninis, but they paired off nicely with a jugo de chinola con ca (a passion fruit juice with condensed milk). 

Friday was some lifechanging BBQ, after a stop at BHD.  All of the signings and bank accounts for players are done at the BHD bank.  It’s an event for these players that have worked their whole lives with one goal, which in most cases isn’t necessarily to play baseball, it’s to escape poverty.  It’s not unusual for players to come into the bank with their family members, and buscones are there too, to collect their share.  You don’t think about or consider a lot of the moving parts to signing foreign players.  The detail into the background checks and verifying identities and ages, figuring out who’s owed what.  It’s a complex machine, but unlike most machines, you never quite know how this cluster of gears and springs and wheels are going to turn or connect.

So I eat.  A lot.  It’s a good thing I can’t travel all the time, because I don’t have a ton of discipline on the road.  I’m always excited to try new things and focus on local flavors, so a trip to the Dominican Republic was a promise of new foods, but what I wasn’t expecting was Gran Parador Bellamar.  The itinerary said ‘gas station BBQ’, and as a guy that’s had my fair share of gas station BBQ, I expected something a little different.  (I’ve always said there are two ways to know if the BBQ will be amazing.  One is if it’s in a gas station, two is if it’s in a business park somewhere.)  We’d passed a number of stands on the side of the road with pop up canopies with meat literally hanging off of the uprights next to grills and smokers.  I envisioned hitting a really ‘rough’ spot that would have some amazing food, so I was surprised when we pulled up to a really clean gas station with a way-too-nice outdoor covered dining.  Ah, man.  My first reaction was actually disappointment.  I figured it would be good, but it didn’t have a ton of flair to it.  It was just too clean.  I got over that feeling pretty quick though, because the ribs were a religious experience.  You know the Johnny Cash song, “I’ve been everywhere, man”?  Well, I’ve eaten BBQ everywhere, man, and damned if these weren’t the best ribs I’d eaten in my entire life.  There’s a reason so many celebrity players, agents, and scouts eat here.  It was that good.  We ended the day at the Milwaukee Brewers academy, but what followed next, was my favorite day of the trip.

My oldest daughter played softball from 4 years old until she graduated high school.  I have a soft spot for kids that play, so when I saw we’d be visiting a group of little leaguers in Pachi’s hometown, I already knew it would be a special day.  I’d packed a suitcase with just baseballs and an assortment of gloves that I’d planned on leaving at the park.  We met up with Pachi, who took us through his hometown, pointing out his parent’s home, where his small business was, the fields he’d played at, and more.  When our bus pulled up to the field, there were 60 or more kids from the Triunfadores con Jesus (Achievers with Jesus) little league.  They were all dressed in their uniforms and lined up respectfully in the mostly bare dirt field.  The field slants off, with a power station in the middle of the outfield.  Last year’s day was interrupted by a cow running around in the field.  When you think of little league fields in the US, this is not it.  Most fields in the Dominican Republic are pretty rough, either pitted or swampy, sloped, or obstructed.  If it’s large enough to play a game, or even mostly large enough, there will be kids in it.

I was excited to see the kids.  I’d brought one of my own gloves with me for the week hoping that I’d be able to play in a pickup game somewhere.  While I didn’t end up finding a game to hop in on, I did get to play catch with a few kids at the field.  The coaches spoke to the kids about being good people, listening to their parents, and working hard in school.  When Henry, one of the mentors for little leaguers in the area asked, “Who among them would be the next major leaguer?”  Every kid raised their hand.  Then he asked which of them would be the next teacher, or doctor, or lawyer.  Retired Major Leaguer, Francisco Cordero came out of his way to stop by to talk with the kids too, before we made a donation as a group.  Every kid got a ball, along with some other supplies.  According to Henry, for most of these kids it may have been the first or second ball they owned that was just theirs.  I told Pachi I’d brought gloves too, and to talk with the coach to see which kids needed them most, then left it at that.  As I stepped on to the bus, Shane called me back out.  He wanted me to take a picture with a group of kids.  They were all holding gloves I’d brought.  None of them owned their own glove until today, they’d been sharing with other teammates.  I told Shane I shouldn’t have left my sunglasses on the bus.  I’m not a religious person, but I do believe in the ‘Church of Baseball’, and today was our mission trip.

We were off to Adrian Tropical for lunch, ahead of the evening’s game at Estatdio Tetelo Vargas, home of the Estrellas.  We all shared a few platters of tostones (fried plantains), sausage, empanadas, and a few other appetizers before I ordered the fish.  I wish I’d ordered the whole fried fish though.  Once it hit the table and I saw Shane’s fish staring at me, I knew I’d missed out!  Mine was just a plane old fish fillet that was grilled and covered with salsa.  One of their specialties is mofongo, which a bowl of mashed plantains mixed with meat.  I’m a texture-guy for food, and that one looked a little too mushy for me.

Estadio Tetelo Vargas was my favorite park of the trip.  I liked all the green, and the vibe at the park was good.  Yes, we’d see a bigger and higher energy crowd for the Tigres vs Aguilas, but Estrellas, along with our next game at the Toros, felt more organic.  That’s one things that’s so incredibly refreshing about baseball in the Dominican Republic.  Everyone is there to watch the game.  I know, novel concept.  It’s not about social media, their heads aren’t down at their phones, and there’s not a whole lot of socializing that doesn’t involve the game.  Fans are yelling out at the players, cheering their team, and engaged in the game.  Yes, there are parts of the game that are manufactured by the in-house DJs or drums that most teams have, but for the most part it’s organic.  Another thing that really stands out is the shit talking.  If you’re a fan of your team, that’s your team.  The country is relatively small, so you’ll see fans from other teams at the games.  (It’s a little further for the teams in the North, but they still had a good presence.)  Fans are chirping back and forth at each other for a lot of the game, but it’s not mean spirited or negative, it’s all about pride in their team.  Think about the last baseball game you were at with fans of an opposing team.  What were the reactions from other fans?  How did they react?  How did you react?  Fans aren’t fighting after games in the Dominican Republic, at least certainly not in November.  It’s lighthearted shit talking during the game, after a win, or after a loss.  It’s the culture of baseball in the DR.

Oh, and I had another set of mini empanadas and an ice cold Presidente.  And maybe a few chicken wings.  (Estrellas had the best selection of food in LIDOM – the Dominican Winter League.)

Day 6 is what I’ll call “Hangover Day”.  I might have made some bad decisions the night before.  The cheeseburger overlooking the water was a nice way to start the day, but the rest of it was a battle!  The Toros del Este (Bulls) were playing an earlier 5pm game at Estadio Francisco A Micheli, and while the crowd was sparser than the first 3 games, it was still a fun crowd.  The Toros fans were probably the loudest of the 6 games that week.  The smaller crowd were definitely into it, and I spent a lot of the game just enjoying watching the crowd.

We spent the majority of day 7 in San Pedro de Macorís, a hot bed for baseball in the Dominican Republic.  We stopped by the Arias Baseball Academy and checked out their facilities, along with a surprisingly nice gym that attracts players during the offseason.  (We ran into a few guys I didn’t recognize while we were checking things out.  One a minor league with the Twins, and one a Major League reliever.)  The highlight of the day for John, a retired firetruck driver, was a stop at the San Pedro fire station.  We walked the few blocks over to Amable for pasteles, which are very similar to tamales, but instead of being made with masa, it’s made with ground yuca (which are like potatoes) or plantains.  The pasteles weren’t my favorite.  While I love tamales, I wasn’t a fan of the texture of the pasteles.

Dinner at El Meson was a nice send off for Austin, Sydney, Gwen, and Danny, who were all flying out before the next day’s drive to the North end of the country.  I had a huge assortment of meat; a large plate filled with pork, chicken, beef, sausage, and blood sausage.  I’d never had blood sausage before, and it’s just what the name says it is; it’s a type of sausage that’s filled with dried pig’s blood, mixed with suet or another filler, then cooked.  The flavor was a little bitter.  Anytime you’re eating something with a sketchy name, you’re already going in with a negative mindset.  It wasn’t terrible, and I ate a few pieces of it, but I wouldn’t order it again.

Yankees/Red Sox is the premier rivalry in Major League Baseball, but in the Dominican Republic, it’s the Tigres and Águilas Cibaeñas.  I’d joked with my new friend Pachi (a fan of Licey) that I was rooting Águilas all week.  I’d bought an off-brand Águilas jersey from a street vendor earlier during the week, but it fit terribly, so I knew I’d need to buy a better one at the game.  I’m not a ‘jersey guy’, I’ve only worn a jersey to two games in my life, one at a reunion game, and the other a World Series game, but I knew I wanted a souvenir from the trip.  Thomas had taught me “Soy Águilucho”, which is how Águilas fans identify themselves, as ‘eaglets’. 

The drive to the North end of the country is a trek.  We spent about 5 hours on the road that afternoon before pulling into the city.  The North end is definitely a wealthier area of the country than some of the cities we’d been in.  I could feel a cold coming on, so I walked down to the local drugstore.  Travel tip:  If you don’t speak the language of the country you’re in, do two things:  1) Download Google translate, but be sure to hard download the language of the country you’re in.  2) Download ChatGPT.  I speak some Spanish, and can read quite a bit.  I had a pretty good idea based on the boxes which ones were cold/flu meds, but wanted to make sure.  I took a picture of the box, then uploaded the picture into ChatGPT.  “Translate the words in this picture”, and within 5 seconds, I had a full translation of the box.  Technology is amazing, embrace it when you travel!  (Side note:  I was shocked at how good the cell coverage was in the DR.  For as poor as the coverage is, I had better coverage throughout most of the country than I do at home.  Thanks, Verizon.)

Águilas is in last place.  They’re having a pretty terrible season, but that didn’t stop fans from coming to the game, especially against their rivals.  Note that I didn’t say ‘hated rivals’.  Unlike Yankees/Red Sox, I didn’t see hostility at the game, just the good-natured shit talking I talked about earlier.  There were a number of fans that had made the drive from Santo Domingo, and there was ribbing back and forth through the game.  Mel Rojas Jr, who we’d met along with his dad Mel Rojas and another player (who’s name I can’t remember), had a helluva game.  He started the game with a home run, and went 3 for 4 with a handful of RBI.  I got my Aguilas jersey, along with another souvenir, an official LIDOM baseball.  They don’t sell baseballs in the team shops, and surprisingly, there aren’t a ton of foul balls, an observation I’d made earlier during the week.  I’d been tracking foul balls during the week and figured at some point I’d offer to buy one from a fan.  Mid-game a security guard snagged a foul ball and hastily stuffed it in his pocket, shooing away the few kids that came by.  “¿Quieres vender la pelota?”  (Do you want to sell the baseball?)  “¿Cuatrocientos?”  (400 pesos).  He nodded and handed me the ball, which cost me about $7 US.

The final game of the trip was at Estadio Julian Javier for Gigantes de Cibao vs Estrellas.  Funny enough, the Gigantes play in San Francisco de Macorís, which means that yes, they are the San Francisco Giants.  The scheduling gods lined up for Estrellas this week; it was our 5^th time seeing them in 6 games.  As it turned out, Estrellas was a good team to get paired up with, they lead LIDOM in the standing tshis season.  The Gigantes stadium was my least favorite of the week.  It had the smallest crowd, and the worst food selection.  Nelson Cruz had retired from playing the week before to a packed house, but the crowd was virtually non-existent for this game.  You’d think the crowds would be bigger for a team that’s in 2^nd place for the season, but it all goes back to economics.  Our tickets for the games ranged from 750 pesos to 1,000 pesos.  That’s $13-17 US a game.  If you’re making less than $400 a month US, $13-17 for a game is a luxury, and that’s if you don’t take your family.

We finished out the week touring Bartolo Colón’s stadium and academy, along with hitting La Aurora cigar factory.  I like a good cigar, but between my cold and the bad taste from the week’s earlier hangover, I passed on the smoke this time around.  We had dinner at an open air food market that was a lot like a food truck fair.  There were around a dozen different places to choose from, offering anything from pizza to burgers to Greek and more.  I wanted to stick to something that still felt ‘local’ and went with a sandwich that had beef, I think some ham, cheese, and what tasted like a pretty heavy onion slaw.  The bread was good, but after 10 days in the Dominican, I’d be lying if I didn’t say I was about ready for some McDonalds.

This was the longest vacation I’d ever taken in my life.  I’d started the break in St Louis for a few days before flying into the Dominican Republic, so I’d been gone 14 days altogether.  I love traveling, but at the same time, 14 days was a long time to be away from my wife and kids.  So what’s my overall feel of the trip?  How did it stack up to my expectations, and how was the value?

My Expectations

The trip with JapanBall exceeded my expectations.  My biggest reason for traveling with the tour was to see all 6 teams in the 5 Winter League parks, but it was the other parts of the tour that helped make the trip.  The way I’ve explained it to friends is this:  I could have visited the Dominican Republic on my own, but I wouldn’t have experienced it like I did with JapanBall.  For example, I’ve been to Mexico.  But in reality, I’ve been to Cozumel and Cancun, so I’ve been to about the most Americanized parts of Mexico.  Have I really been to Mexico?  It’s the same thing with the DR.  I could have visited it, but Shane’s depth of knowledge, his connections, his team of people on the tour, helped me truly experience the country.  Between the games, the food, the camps, the academy, the MLB office, little league fields, and in-city tour, I know I’ve really experienced it vs ‘just’ visiting it.

The Value

Is JapanBall a good ‘value’?  I’d say value really comes down to what you want from the trip.  When I booked the trip, I priced it ala carte out of curiosity, and yes, I definitely could have done it for less.  But I wouldn’t have had a bilingual guide, I wouldn’t have had a driver that was experienced in driving in the absolute chaos of traffic, I wouldn’t have had connections with teams and academies, and I sure as hell wouldn’t have known the best places to eat.  Is JapanBall a good value?  I think a better question is “Is scheduling a tour with JapanBall worth it?”  And yes, it is absolutely worth it. 

** A quick note:  I have not been paid or compensated in any way for promoting JapanBall.  They did a great job!  I own a small business too, so I know how important word-of-mouth is!  If you’re considering traveling to the DR for baseball, check them out at JapanBall.com  **