Fear For Ramos
By Lew Freedman
The kidnapping of Washington Nationals catcher Wilson Ramos is not a baseball story. It’s a have-and-have-not story, the way the Occupy protests are in the United States.
By rights, Ramos, 24, a good young player who just finished his rookie year with a .267 average, 15 home runs and 52 RBIs in 113 games, should be a hero in Venezuela. Instead, he apparently became prey for criminals who grabbed him for ransom.
A Major League baseball player is automatically a member of the economic elite in that country, even if Ramos is nowhere near the top of the salary stratosphere. But in a country where the poor out-number the rich by a huge number, he serves the purposes of people who want to take what he has.
Baseball is the biggest sport of all in many Latin American countries. Any one who succeeds against the odds to get noticed, to be signed, to battle through the minors and who reaches the majors deserves special props and respect for peseverance. Especially when English is not their first language. That just makes everything more challenging along the way.
Historically, Latino baseball players who return home in the off-season are expected to show their faces in Winter League play. If they don’t, fans from the neighborhood whom they knew back when might ostracize and criticize them as being arrogant and for forgetting their roots. It has long been viewed as an obligation, a way of giving back to the community.
That was the old way of doing things and a traditional way. For many it is still seen as the right thing to do. However, in these more perilous times a balance must be struck. Sometimes returning home can be more dangerous than staying away and working out in Florida or Arizona in the off-season. The bigger the star, the more money he makes, the more at risk he might be at the hands of exploiters, rip-off artists, or even those who may snatch them and put their lives in danger.
Of, course this is just a guess about what is going through the minds of those who grabbed Ramos and left his car abandoned a few days ago. But there is no indication they want to be pals, drink beer and go to a movie. This is a very serious situation that one hopes is quickly resolved with no permanent harm done to Ramos, except to his psyche, since this type of extreme experience is not something one easily gets over.
There is no justification for this type of action. Part of it may be born out of poverty, hopelessness, and jealousy, but it has also happened before. Relatives of major leaguers have been kidnapped for ransom. Venezuelan player Yorvit Torealbea and some family members were kidnapped. It is a sad commentary that people can’t be happy for Ramos’ success from hard work and that they feel they are entitled to a piece of it because of their own station in life.
We know that crimes are committed every day for a variety of reasons, some of them economic need and not just plain stupidy. What this case teaches Latino players is that they can never routinely consider themselves safe in their old homelands. And it makes the announcement that the growth industry in employment in Venezuela–and maybe other Third World countries–is the bodyguard business.
Right now the most important thing is that Ramos come out of this ordeal OK.