Publish date:

Books Two pitchers and two journeys--with wildly different itineraries

by Steve Fainaru and Ray Sanchez/Villard Books, $24.95

A PITCHER'S STORY: Innings with David Cone
by Roger Angell/Warner Books, $24.95

This is too ambitious to be called a baseball book: The Duke of
Havana, subtitled Baseball, Cuba, and the Search for the
American Dream, reads like a spy novel, with agents, hustlers
and political operatives skulking about an untapped source of
wealth: baseball players in Castro's economically wheezing Cuba.
The central story is how Orlando (El Duque) Hernandez, with help
from his friends and a sturdy engine-powered fishing vessel (not
a raft), goes from banned ballplayer living in a concrete shack
in Cuba to World Series hero for the New York Yankees. From that
theme a boatload of well-drawn characters springs forth.

The most smarmy of the bunch is player agent Joe Cubas. One of
the book's revelations is that Cubas, according to two of his
former soldiers and Gordon Blakeley, a Yankees executive,
arranged for a kickback from the Tampa Bay Devil Rays for
delivering pitcher Rolando Arrojo to them in 1997--before a sham
of a tryout for other clubs. Cubas and the Devil Rays deny the
charge. Blakeley said Cubas asked the Yankees for a $500,000
kickback for bringing Hernandez to them, offering Blakeley a
piece of the action. The team and Blakeley refused him.

That kind of reporting, and skillful word pictures of one of the
globe's mysterious corners, make this book a fascinating journey.

The circuitous 16-season career of pitcher David Cone is
curiously Zelig-like. The cocaine-riddled 1983 Kansas City
Royals clubhouse? Cone was there. The scandalous New York Mets
of the late '80s? Five of the past eight world champions? The
White House and other frontlines of labor negotiations? Cone was
there, there, there. Cone's career, even judiciously abridged,
turns out to be a Mariano Rivera for Roger Angell: It saves the
story after the writer chooses to tell it through the prism of
the 2000 season, in which the 37-year-old Cone withered to a
4-14 record.

Cone granted Angell exclusive access, so it seems odd that he
rarely takes us deep into the anguish, labor and emotions of a
prolific pitcher passing into his twilight. As Cone's season
deteriorates, the pitcher withdraws, and a sympathetic Angell
looks away rather than inward. "I felt that he had enough
troubles without my always pushing such questions at him," he

Angell writes with economical precision, nailing observations as
a great pitcher does corners. Yankees manager Joe Torre "exudes
the wisdom of an elderly hunting dog." The book gets off the
ground, even soars at moments, on the strength of Cone's
itinerary and Angell's acuity.