I have something coming down the pipe tonight or tomorrow that I hope people will find interesting, but for now, check out this 2002 feature article on the hero of last night’s game, Alfonso Soriano. In spite of its age, I’d never seen it before, and it’s phenomenal. An excerpt, from when Soriano tried to make the move from Japan to the US and ended up playing in California in a sort of semipro league:
He looked around and wondered, Who are these people? Or at least he wondered that in Spanish because his English was limited to two words: ball and baseball. What was going on? This certainly wasn’t the American dream that Soriano had envisioned. He thought he would be wearing a crisp white uniform in front of 40,000 fans, competing against Pedro and Sammy and Big Mac. No, this was a nightmare. Somehow, in a world gone terribly wrong, he was the newest member of the Southern California Angels of the National Adult Baseball Association, playing once a week in a glorified rec league before, oh, 20 people and a couple of dogs on a field on the east side of Los Angeles.
You can find the rest here.