Document text
Shortstop Carlos Rosario shops for shoes for his family in the Dominican. Some must fight barrier of language By KRIS HENRY A bend in the road is not the end of the road. At least that's what the billboard at Mr. Lustre Car Wash reminds as the Timberjacks bus passes en route to Civic Stadium. In truth, Carlos Rosario and Franklyn German (pronounced HER-mon) are prime examples of this theory. The two 19-year-old Class A baseball players have made their way to Medford in hopes of someday making it to the major-league level. Their baseball talents are obvious, but their grasp of the English language is much less pronounced. And that can be somewhat of a problem, especially considering very few Timberjacks can communicate fluently in Spanish. "I know enough to get me out of a knife fight," says Southern Oregon trainer Jeff Collins. The Timberjacks boast three Dominican players and three who call Puerto Rico home. All six vary in their ability to communicate in English. German is a little kid in a big kid's body. The 6-foot-5, 225-pounder is loud and often grates on teammates with his nonstop Spanish chatter. Some English words he knows well are the ones mothers spend a lifetime trying to get their kids not to say. German exhibits a playfulness that can come off as abrasive. And he seems to care for people but hasn't figured out how to show it. Rosario is the opposite. He carries the demeanor you might expect from a 5-8, 165-pound youngster in a strange land. He is quiet, even-tempered and smiles a lot. He's not quick to comprehend when teammates give him a hard time, so they mostly avoid good-natured ribbing. Despite their differences, German and Rosario encounter similar barriers. "People speak too fast," German says of those who speak English. "Sometimes I have to say, `Easy, I'm from Dominican. Slow, slow.' I understand too much, but I only speak a little." With more and more foreign athletes making their way to the United States, pitching coach Gil Lopez, who speaks Spanish, says it's helpful for coaches and players to be bilingual. "We've got some guys who have trouble mastering English," he says, "but I think they know enough English to where they know what's going on. Better yet, they know enough baseball to know what's going on. "What happens is the guys that know English kid around with the guys that don't know English. Those guys learn English in that method. Whether they (English-speaking players) know it or not, they're actually teaching these guys English words." Sometimes, the subject matter differs from, say, what you might find in a classroom. Regardless, there are ways around the barriers. Baseball is a game that can be taught through hands-on techniques and visualization. Lopez and Southern Oregon manager Greg Sparks are adept at teaching players despite language barriers. Whereas Lopez, who speaks Spanish, can break things down verbally and physically, Sparks must show rather than tell. When Rosario appeared to be dropping his hands during batting practice, Sparks pulled him aside and guided Rosario's hands to show what was wrong with his swing mechanics. "You have to know the art of communication and teaching," says Lopez. "If you can't communicate with the kids, if you can't show them and make them feel it while they're doing it, it's not going to transfer to a positive product." That works great on the baseball diamond, but when Rosario and German are out shopping, obstacles again emerge. Admitted clotheshorses, the two Dominicans room together on the road and share a passion for hitting the area stores whenever possible in search of new threads. With four brothers and four sisters, Rosario's main hunt in Eugene is for shoes. He wants a certain pair for himself and any others for his family back home. German's quest is simple: A white T-shirt. He's not happy with his style today and believes the shirt is all that's missing. And, as always, a compact disc to add to his collection is a distinct possibility. As the two Dominicans stroll through the Gateway Mall in Springfield with a friend, Stephanie, their concentration is as intense as if they were on the ballfield. After 45 minutes of pacing the mall, only German has uncovered his treasures. Rosario's luck turns sour because the shoe store doesn't have what he wants in a size 9. As he waits for his friend, German examines wear for his size-13 feet. Rosario eventually finds success at another shoe store, this time purchasing three pairs of shoes for family members. Rosario is approached several times by workers who want to make sure he knows he is in the women's section. Each time he politely smiles and nods "yes." A quick trip to a bigger mall in Eugene prompts similar results for the prime shoppers, with German eyeing everything in sight and Rosario struggling to find his shoes. In one instance, a store employee asks others in the group if they are "trying to let them do this on their own?" No, it wasn't a kind of controlled experiment. Through all the frustrations, Rosario just smiles. He's happy to be playing baseball and he's happy to be in America. Even if he can't find the shoes he wants. Today's Sports Index Mail Tribune Copyright� The Mail Tribune 1999, Medford, OR U.S.A.