Last Seasons in Havana: The Castro Revolution and the End of Professional Baseball in Cuba by Cesar Brioso (review)

At one time or another, all baseball fans have experienced the horrible sensation of "just knowing" that the team they were rooting for in a critical contest, though leading, was eminently doomed to experience the bitterness of failure. Think of the Red Sox playing the Yankees in the one-game playoff in October of 1978, or the Texas Rangers trying to win their fourth game against the St. Louis Cardinals in the 2011 World Series, and you will understand the sensation described. Likewise, for Cubans of Cesar Brioso's generation (of which this reviewer is one), an assessment of the events leading up to the end of professional baseball in our native land brings out similar emotions. We knew how wonderful the talent on the field was, how vibrant was the culture surrounding the various teams (both in the Cuban League and in the minor leagues), how intoxicating it was to have major league talent grace our stadium during the winter, but most of us knew that, ultimately, as a result of Castro's revolution, things would end calamitously. Not only did professional baseball cease, but so did freedom, religious liberty, and any semblance of economic prosperity. The picture on the front of this book tells the story quite accurately (featuring Cleveland catcher Dick Brown holding a machine gun and rebel soldier George Triana holding a mitt): baseball, and life in Cuba, would never be the same.

Brioso's book does an excellent job of highlighting the love affair between Cuba and the sport. He goes all the way back to the "Garden of Eden" era with Esteban Bellan, as well as detailing revolutionary activity versus the Spanish by individuals connected to the game, such as Emilio Sabourin and others. He then takes readers through a quick overview of the history of the game in Cuba: the creation of the Cuban League, the rise of Cuban major leaguers, the role of Joe Cambria, the (better) treatment of Negro League stars versus the segregation they faced in the United States, the broadcasting of the World Series to the island, the establishment of minor league ball, the arrival of AAA level baseball with the Sugar Kings, and finally, the death of the professional baseball with the departure of the Sugar Kings and the end of the Cuban League in 1961. All of these topics have been dealt with extensively in many other publications, but what Brioso does, and what makes this work so significant, is how he interweaves political and revolutionary events into his narrative. How did the game, the teams, and the fans, fare in the midst of revolutionary turmoil?

In reading the book's chapters chronicling the latter Batista era (1952–1958), one cannot help but be struck by the tumult that surrounded the Cuban League and later, the Sugar Kings as the political unrest became even more persistent, with bombings and other such mayhem taking place in Havana. In the middle of this hullabaloo, however, it was possible to see the strong ties between Cubans and the sport: during the entire 1957 season, the Sugar Kings actually increased their attendance and received an award from The Sporting News for this achievement. Still, it was impossible to ignore the turbulence all around El Gran Stadium. Of particular interest and value are Brioso's extensive discussions of the reaction of Buffalo Bison players and the city's press to the political and other events in Cuba in early 1958 as well as his use of recounting of tragic events of the evening of December 31, 1958, by players such as Tommy Lasorda. No matter how great the action on the field, ultimately the revolution put an end to the imperfect life of the Cuban state, only to replace it with one that is more horrific and oppressive. Thus, it is fair to say, the conceptualization of the work...