I wrote this for a school lit mag, and figured I'd post it here too.
Here goes:
The Tryout
Griffith Stadium Washington DC, February 16, 1947
-THWACK! The ball slammed into the Catcher’s glove. Dead on. Again.
I look at the pitcher’s mound, see a youngish, Latin kid, with slicked-back hair, and earnest look in his brown eyes, turn to Dave, who’s running the pitching tryouts.
“He’s a lefty?”
I asked, nearly jumping with anticipation. Mickey, our main left-handed pitcher got his arm broke in an auto crash a month back, and I needed another lefty for the lineup this season.
“Yeah, Ossie, He’s a lefty, and a lawyer, University of Havana Intramural Team.”
“Any good?” I asked,
“Fastball’s nice, and one hell of a curve, but not a lot in the way of control for a slider or changeup.”
“He’ll get better with practice. They all do-”
Usually.
“Alright, bring it in! C’mon over!” I shouted,
The pitcher walks over, looks me in the eye. It’s the mark of a man who is supremely confident. Good.
“You pitch a good game, son. What’s your name?”
“Fidel Castro, sir.”
I stuck out my hand, “Ossie Bluege. I run this team. How’d you like to be on it? Pay for rookies is five Grand per year, If you get better, it goes up.”
“Whaddya say son, you in?”
“Yes sir, I’m in”
I put out my hand again,
“Welcome to the team, Fidel.”
We shook.
*Historical Note*:
Ossie Bluege did manage the Washington Senators, (later the Minnesota Twins,)
Milton Arnold, “Mickey” Haefner was a left handed Pitcher for the team at the time. He was not involved in an auto accident.
As a left-handed pitcher at Havana University, Castro was given a tryout by the Washington Senators baseball team. They turned him down. Castro went on to lead a successful revolution in Cuba, later becoming dictator there. He still watches the occasional game of baseball.
But what if he had become a Major League player in America instead?
The Tryout. Really, REALLY short alt hist one-shot
Moderator: LadyTevar
It's good - would like to see a bit more. I have seen a similar concept once before, where Castro is playing baseball in US. Someone from Cuba comes to see him, asking him to recruit people for the revolution that's started there. So Fidel goes to meet with Desi Arnaz, gets turned down, and goes back to baseball.
"Typical Canadian wimpiness. That's why you have the snowball and we have the H-bomb." Grandpa Simpson
thanks for the feedback. Sorry, this is just a one-shot depiction of what might have been. I have another fanfic already going, and can barely devote time for that as it is.
Odds are, I probably won't add to it, but if anyone wants to, or wants to do anything with the story/universe, you are welcome to it.
Odds are, I probably won't add to it, but if anyone wants to, or wants to do anything with the story/universe, you are welcome to it.