Due to the recent arrests of Fausto Carmona and Leo Nunez, I want to shed light on an ongoing issue between MLB and players from the Dominican Republic (D.R.).While many Americans will see this issue only in black and white:
“They lied!”…
“Falsifying documents!”…
“Identity fraud”…
…the issue cannot be dismissed as just that. There’s a bigger picture here, one that can put the blame and consequence on several different parties. Obviously people need to take responsibility for their actions, but put yourself in their shoes and look at what’s really going on in the D.R.
Upon reading several comments on the MLB website, I was reminded of the South Park episode where they proclaim that the mysterious alien men who move to South Park are taking their jobs.
“They took our jobs!” they proclaim throughout the episode.
It’s interesting to see how we paint the picture in the United States: fraud, deception, and underhandedness. Most of the complaints criminalized players, making them out to be cheats, deceivers, takers of jobs! Come on people!
Let’s take Fausto Carmona for instance. He came from a very poor family in a small village in the Dominican Republic. Anthony Cantrovince, writer for MLB.com reports,
“His teeth were so bad that the Indians feared he wouldn’t be able to properly nourish himself, so they doled out the dollars for his dental work.”
Here we have a kid, coming from a dirt poor family of farmers with a shot at “making it” in the big leagues and bringing his family out of poverty. What would YOU do?
In Fausto’s case yes, he stole an identity and lied about his age, which in our minds is unforgivable. But in their country it’s not taken as seriously. Records are not held in such high regard in the D.R. In fact, your name could be changed at the drop of a hat. For example, the spelling of a name (like name Jimmy could go from Jimmy to Gemmy throughout their school year), or a nickname is written down on their school and hospital records that carries over and creates a problem later when their identity is verified.
Generally speaking, players who get caught up in the age or identity scandal usually do so without intent to be fraudulous. You see, there are several cultural differences at work here. The first being that birth dates and records are not held to the high level of importance in the Dominican Republic. The second being that there is a cultural difference in last name traditions. Dominicans take both their mother and their father’s last name, but many times only choose one, and can sometimes change to the other over the course of their lives depending on how involved a parent is in the absence of another.
So when an MLB official says you can’t do what you’ve dreamed of doing your whole life (your only ticket out of a life of poverty) until you have proof of your identity, it doesn’t matter whether you end up being John Doe or Juan Carlos. You’re going to get that piece of paper because until you do you’re not getting a work visa and you’re not going to the U.S. You see, for Dominicans, it’s not really about falsifying your age, it’s about finding any means necessary to prove who you are.
According to the DRSEA Informer, “Very often in the Dominican Republic, births are not registered until years after, when memories have become sketchy with regards to exact dates, locations and circumstances. A relative could take a child to register the birth and not recall the exact date, or be provided incorrect information by the mother and father who may be juggling the birth dates of several children in their heads. But, it would be a stretch of the imagination to believe that someone would falsify the identification of a 6-year-old in anticipation that 10 or 11 years hence that lie would benefit them in getting their child signed to a professional baseball contract.”
Of course this is not always the case, but it is a huge factor! What do you do if you don’t have a birth record? You get one. Because damn-it you’re going to do whatever it takes to get where you want to be.
Some poor Dominicans in rural areas are late to register births, which causes problems for players.
In cases like those, MLB classifies the age and identity as “inconclusive” — and sometimes the player is shut out.
“That’s a red flag,” says Jorge Pérez, the director of MLB Latin Operations.
“We try to be as comprehensive as possible,” says Daniel Mullin, MLB VP of investigations. “We try to be as fair as possible and try to help the player prove he is who he says he is. But if you can’t prove who you are, you can’t get a visa to come to the United States.”
Now let’s take age into account here as well. Take what you read above about the lackluster record keeping of Dominicans and combine it with the way MLB determines a player’s wage in D.R. and you may begin to understand another aspect of the overall problem.
According to the Miami Herald,
“A 16-year-old with a 90 mph fastball is more valuable than a 19-year-old with the same skills, and with lax record keeping and a culture so rabid for baseball, the temptation to become someone younger, to fit the mold, is often irresistible.”
Perhaps a way to stop at least some of the age identity problems would be to not weigh so heavily on the correlation between age and pay. MLB age limits do not apply in other countries, so why do they exist in the Dominican Republic? Are they just perpetuating the need to lie? Ability is ability whether you’re 17 or 18. If you look at the cases where a player was caught in an age discretion, it is usually over a matter of 2 or 3 years. This is because the pay is significantly different between those teenage years.
To close I’ll leave the words of Anthony Cantrovince becuase he said it so well,
“But when you think of Carmona — or whatever his name is — in the wake of this news, remember how desperate he must have felt a dozen years ago. He could spend his life in poverty, working on the family farm, or he could explore the value of his blessed right arm. And what if, in order to get the maximum value out of that arm, his best option was to tell a lie?… Well, from our first cognizant moments, we’re all taught not to lie. But having bettered his own life and the lives of his loved ones, I doubt this lie — a lie told by countless players in his position — is one he’d regret, if he did indeed tell it.”