By Andy Tarnoff Publisher Published Dec 21, 2005 at 5:36 AM

SANTO DOMINGO, Dominican Republic -- On the field, Dominican Winter League baseball looks just like its American counterpart. But it sure doesn't sound like it. With horns blaring, revved up fans screaming at the top of their lungs, and Spanish, of course, being the only language spoken in the stadium, "beisbol" is a national obsession on this Caribbean island.

It's where up-and-coming Major Leaguers, current stars and players hoping to get back into the game come to sharpen their skills and represent their nation. This year, three Dominican-born Brewers are taking part in this ultra-competitive and raucous league of six teams.

The season stretches from November to February, and winter baseball is more than just the national pastime of the DR, it's practically a religion here. And rightfully so -- the country has been playing the sport for nearly a century.

Originally, the Dominicans learned baseball from the Cubans, who were taught by American sailors. Several teams claim proud legacies, exporting Hall of Fame players like Escodigo's Felipe Alou and Juan Marichal.

Today, taxi drivers can spout the career stats of home-grown stars like Pedro Martinez, Alex Rodriguez, Sammy Sosa and Vladimir Guerrero. But they can also tell you all about up-and-coming players like Brewers outfielder Nelson Cruz, pitcher Jose Capellan and infielder Enrique Cruz. Nelson Cruz and Capellan play for the Gigantes of the Cibao Valley, and Enrique Cruz plays for the Escogideo Leones in Santo Domingo.

Nelson Cruz, who's only had a cup of coffee with the Brewers, is a rising star in the Dominican League, and he represented his country earlier this month in the Dominican-Puerto Rican All Star Game. This winter marks Cruz's third season playing winter ball.

"It makes you stay in baseball all year and learn about the big league guys," says Cruz. "For guys like me who are coming up, it's good to play."

But playing at such a high level almost 12 months out of the year can be physically draining, too. Still, Cruz says he has an advantage over players who sit at home during the off-season.

"Now, I'm a little tired," admits Cruz. "But you learn about baseball by playing it, you don't learn by watching it. What you do in practice is different than what you do in the game."

Another adjustment is the level of recognition Cruz receives in the DR, versus his relative anonymity in Milwaukee. Here, he's already a superstar.

"I keep doing what I'm doing, and stuff is going to happen. Here, once I started playing well, people began to recognize me," says Cruz.

Brewers coach Mike Guerrero is here, too. He serves as assistant manager for Escogido. But when he's not in Santo Domingo, he works for Milwaukee in a variety of capacities, including as a former player, a hitting coach with the Beloit Snappers, and more recently running the Arizona mini-camp and extended spring training. Guerrero says he spends about eight months out of the year in the states.

He's also the son of legendary Dominican scout Epy Guerrero, who is responsible for bringing an incredible 133 players to the big leagues. The elder Guerrero worked for a number of teams, including Milwaukee.

The Brewers, like most teams, once had an academy in the Dominican Republic for scouting new players, but the organization disbanded its school about four years ago.

"We don't have a school here anymore," says Guerrero. "If there is any recommendation I can do for the scouts, I'll do it through the (Brewers') office.

"We're trying something new. We might be able to develop players a little faster. But the only problem the kids will have will be (the lack of) a cultural encounter (with Americans). They'll have the language barrier. But I think the best players will get over the hump, anyway," says Guerrero.

To a certain extent, the Brewers are putting their money where their mouth is. Even without a formal camp on the island, the team recently signed a highly-regarded teenage player named Orlando Pascual, and in the process, outbid some teams with much deeper pockets.

"He was given a signing bonus of over $700,000," says Guerrero. "Every time you find a pretty good talent, you have to try to compete. But it takes hard work to develop a talent. The most expensive talent doesn't necessarily make it to the big leagues."

Cruz says the Brewers have been supportive of him playing winters in the Dominican Republic.

"They want me to," says Cruz. "Last year when I showed up for Spring Training, they said they believe in winter ball. They like me to play."

Guerrero says he is impressed by what he's seen from the up-and-coming Brewers, and he especially admires the work ethic of the future Milwaukee outfielder.

"I think Nelson Cruz and Capellan are real good players. Nelson Cruz is leading the Dominican winter ball in home runs," says Guerrero, pointing to a sign well beyond the right field wall. "He hit a ball over that sign, and it was still going. I think he will be an outstanding player for the Brewers." 

As for Capellan, who struggled with his control in 2005, Guerrero is also optimistic.

"He has the arm, but he still need to make some adjustments. But the beautiful thing is that he has the ability."

Others weren't so sure. One member of the Licey public relations staff joked that Capellan was feigning a sore arm because his team wasn't playing well. And to be sure, none of the local observers had the same accolades for Capellan and they did for Cruz.

Still, Cruz says Brewers fans should be excited about the future of the franchise.

"We've got really good power in (Prince) Fielder, Corey Hart, (Dave) Krynzel, Rickie Weeks," says Cruz. "These younger guys coming up are going to be superstars. We have a good future."

In 2005, Cruz played in just eight games with five at bats. He batted an even .200 in limited action, but Cruz says the experience was memorable.

"It was exciting, you know. Being around those guys is a dream come true."

And his first Major League at-bat was something special.

"I remember I talked to (Jeff) Cirillo, and he was like, 'Are you nervous?' And I said, 'No.' He said, 'What?!' I said, 'No, I'm not nervous because I faced that pitcher like 40 times. But when I got to the outfield, I said, 'Oh (expletive), this is the big leagues!"

Cruz says he is patient about where he fits into the franchise. He says he just has to continue to play well, and the pieces will fall into place.

"It's my dream, that's my goal, to be there on opening day. Whatever happens, I'll be prepared for that."

Viva La Pelota!

Santo Domingo's Estacio de Quisqueya is home to both Escogido and the Licey Tigres, currently the best team in the league. A game between Licey and Escogido can be a deafening experience to an American fan used to the bucolic atmosphere of a Brewers game.

Before the first pitch is even thrown, fans will see players taking part in a spirited and dangerous game of "pepper" (there aren't any "no pepper" signs here). But the moment the national anthem is over, the mayhem begins. Before, during and after each pitch, it sounds like everyone in the entire stadium is blowing a horn, banging a drum or screaming at the top of his lungs. A strike out or a hit elicits even more excitement. A home run, and the home crowd goes completely berserk.

And if that's not enough, some time around the fifth inning, the Licey Tiger mascot will make an appearance, surrounded by a makeshift marching band. That's when all hell breaks loose.

In this mostly full 50-year-old stadium, capacity approximately 5,800 fans, the sound level well surpasses a sold-out Brewers-Cubs game at Miller Park. And only half are cheering: the right side of the park is all Escogido fans, while the left side is Licey. As a rule, the losing team sits in silence while the team with the momentum on its side is whipped into a frenzy.

Says Guerrero, "That's part of the cultural environment down here. Besides being a fan, everyone thinks they are a manager. They know about baseball, and they're into the game, cheering every out, bad play, and yelling every step of the way. And when you mess up, they let you know."

"The fans make the difference," agrees Cruz. "They yell about everything, from strikeouts to getting hit by a pitch. One American (teammate) told me he had never heard that before. The fans are really passionate about the game."

What else is different about the experience? Besides baseball, the DR is known for cigars, rum and merengue, and all three are well-represented at games. Dominican rum manufacturer and informal sponsor of everything nationwide, Ron Brugal, is sold is small plastic bottles. That means you can mix your own rums and Coke (or "Cuba Libres," as they're known in Latin America) right in the stands.

Smoking, of course, is permitted, because the Dominicans produce some of the world's best cigars. And since merengue music is everywhere, cheerleaders dance atop the home dugout between innings -- and the music is cranked up really, really loudly.

On the field, the game is played nearly identically to American baseball. Player and umpire mannerisms are the same; the catcher fires the ball to third after a punch out; the manager ambles ever so slowly to the mound during a pitching change; the umps casually call runners out on routine plays at first.

The only difference is the pace of the game: it's much faster. Not only do players spend less time milling about in the batter's box, you'll see only one or two walks per game. That's because of the Latin baseball motto: Walks don't get you off the island.

"Free swingers," says Guerrero. "It's true. In the big leagues, they look at on-base percentage and walks, but in this country, you have to be able to show someone that you can hit the ball with authority and hit the ball out of the park."

Cruz, who came to Milwaukee in the trade for Keith Ginter to Oakland, says he had to make an adjustment when playing in states for the first time.

"When I played for Oakland, they wanted me to be patient and draw walks. I needed to see more pitches (when I first came to the United States)," says Cruz.

"If you are an American player and you live in the states, if you don't make it to the big leagues, you're still at home," says Guerrero. "But if you're a Latin player or a Dominican player, you're trying to make it not only for you but your family because of the poverty here."

A Country of Contrasts

From its high-end all-inclusive resorts to its crowded city streets belching with traffic, the Dominican Republic is a living, breathing anachronism. Santo Domingo boasts the highest per capita ownership of Mercedes Benzes in the Western Hemisphere, but it's also quite poor. On the same block as the Jaguar dealership is a barefoot child begging in the street. The hot water only works sometimes, even at an upscale hotel in Santiago where several players stay. The fertile countryside, hilly geography and expansive beaches mark a beautiful landscape, but the inner cities of Santiago and Santo Domingo snarl with pollution and unemployment.

But despite extreme poverty, an increasingly shaky relationship with neighboring Haiti, and a saddening but well-deserved reputation for rampant prostitution, the Dominicans keep a smile a on their face -- especially when talking about beisbol.

Says Guerrero, "Everything in the Dominican is about baseball."

Ticket prices are more than fair, even on a Dominican's budget. $150 pesos (about $5) buys a good seat, and the stadiums are well-kept up, even for U.S. standards.

And as much as fans enjoy the action, the level of competition is high enough that scouts can get an accurate picture of a player's potential. With most teams in the league retaining more than a handful of active Major Leaguers, players agree that the quality of play surpasses AAA baseball in the states. In fact, it's more like "4A" ball.

"The step below the big leagues is not AAA, it's Dominican winter ball. If you do good here, there's a good probability that you'll be successful in the big leagues," says Guerrero. "You're facing players that have hit .300 or won 20 games (in the United States)."

Brewers fans will also remember former players who come home to the DR for winter ball, including Ron Belliard, Valerio De Los Santos, Izzy Alcantara and others. Bigger name players currently in the league include Willy Mo Pena, Rafael Furcal, Neifi Perez, Juan Uribe and others. As the season progresses, the real Dominican stars fly down to participate in the playoffs, and ultimately, in the Caribbean World Series.

Of course, some teams are stocked with more Major Leaguers than others, and Cruz's last-place Gigantes don't have many big names on their roster. But that's just fine with Cruz.

"For the young guys like me, it's better," says Cruz. "It gives me an opportunity."

Andy is the president, publisher and founder of OnMilwaukee. He returned to Milwaukee in 1996 after living on the East Coast for nine years, where he wrote for The Dallas Morning News Washington Bureau and worked in the White House Office of Communications. He was also Associate Editor of The GW Hatchet, his college newspaper at The George Washington University.

Before launching OnMilwaukee.com in 1998 at age 23, he worked in public relations for two Milwaukee firms, most of the time daydreaming about starting his own publication.

Hobbies include running when he finds the time, fixing the rust on his '75 MGB, mowing the lawn at his cottage in the Northwoods, and making an annual pilgrimage to Phoenix for Brewers Spring Training.