A Basketball Scout in a Baseball Paradise: My Trip to the Dominican Republic

Last spring, at MLB spring training in Phoenix, Arizona, a mutual friend introduced me to a Dominican baseball agent named Hector Faneytt. He told me something I didn't expect.

"You should see the basketball talent in the DR. It's better than you probably think."

I was at spring training just to take in some baseball, a sport I love but don't work in. I knew about some of the top Dominican players who'd made it to the NBA, guys like Al Horford and Chris Duarte. But the more Hector and I talked, the more curious I became about a part of the basketball world I hadn't really explored yet.

Hector and I kept in touch. Over the next few months, he introduced me to people across the Dominican basketball community through phone and video calls. Then, recently, I flew to Santo Domingo to see it all for myself.

The Dominican Republic and baseball are practically synonymous. That's no secret. And I felt it from the start. On my flight in, I was sitting near Framber Valdez and Starling Marte, two MLB All-Stars. It reminded me of visiting Belgrade, Serbia, in the offseason, where you run into basketball stars, past and present, all over town. In the DR, it's the same, just with baseball players.

Over the next couple of days, I'd see just how deeply baseball runs through everything there. The history. The culture. The passion. You feel it everywhere. It's intoxicating.

After clearing customs, my driver took me on an hour-long ride to the hotel. The traffic was chaotic, cars and motorcycles weaving in and out with no rules I could make out. But the ocean views along the way were beautiful. I checked into the JW Marriott and grabbed a quiet dinner by myself at Blue Mall, the upscale shopping center connected to the hotel. It was a chance to catch my breath before a busy couple of days.

The next morning, Hector and his colleague Amanda picked me up, and it was time for basketball. Thanks to the connections I made through Hector, I met with people from the national team and others in the basketball community. I even connected with Felipe Lopez, who was close with my family during his NBA days. The national team also organized a session with some of the top high school-aged players in the area so I could see the young talent up close. I was impressed. They had length and athleticism; they played hard and at a good pace, and I was pleasantly surprised by their advanced skill sets and feel for the game.

Throughout the session, everyone seemed genuinely thrilled that I was there and interested. And I sensed something deeper from the players, the coaches, and everyone involved. A hunger for more, a desire for basketball in their country to step out of baseball's overwhelming shadow.

Afterward, the coaches asked me to say a few words to the players. Through a translator, I told them I was happy to see so much talent and love for basketball in a country known for baseball. I added that there are more opportunities than ever to succeed in basketball. Set short-term goals. Set long-term goals. Then wake up every day and work toward them.

I’m not sure how much survived the translation. But they listened, nodded, and some of them came up to shake my hand.

Hector was right. The Dominican Republic's basketball talent is better than you probably think.

When we left the gym, we drove through the city to lunch. We passed through Santo Domingo's Zona Colonial, the Americas' oldest European settlement. We had lunch at a spot overlooking the ocean. I had mofongo, mashed plantains with a rich, gravy-like sauce, plus a side of seasoned beef. And I washed it down with a cold Presidente, a smooth Dominican lager. I'm a fan of it all. ¡Muy rico!

I couldn't leave without seeing baseball the Dominican way. That next night, Hector took me to a winter league game. He brought me into the locker room and onto the field, where I met a lot of the players and coaches. Accomplished MLB guys like Marcell Ozuna and Maikel Franco were in the lineup. Top young players and prospects like Agustin Ramirez and Jesus Made were there too.

We sat with the dad and little brother of rising prospect Roldy Brito and watched him get his first career winter league hit. They jumped out of their seats to cheer. So did we. Roldy is in the Colorado Rockies system, and I live in Denver, so I'm hoping to take my son to see him in the majors sooner rather than later.

It was a "winter league" game, but don't be misled. It was hot and humid. And forget the polite quiet of some American ballparks. At these games, the noise never stops. Drums and horns pound from the first inning to the last, Dominican music blasts between batters, and the energy in the stands is more like a European soccer game. A strikeout gets a roar and a home run sets off a full-on party.

And this league has real history. The Tigres del Licey hosted one of their rivals, the Gigantes del Cibao, at Estadio Quisqueya that night. Some of my favorite players of all time played for Licey. Pedro. Big Papi. Vladimir Guerrero. Licey even holds Juan Soto's rights today. And the Gigantes have impressive alumni too, like José Reyes and Plácido Polanco. Being there was a privilege.

After the game, we called it a night. The next morning, I flew back home. Just like that, the trip was over.

It was a quick trip, but memorable. The Dominican people were incredible. My Spanish is rough, or as I kept saying, "Mi español es malo." Didn't matter. Everyone treated me warmly and with respect.

The fan in me loved the baseball. But at my core, I'm a basketball guy, and I now know the talent there is untapped. I believe many of the things that make Dominicans so great at baseball can translate to basketball. With my new connections, I'm exploring ways to get involved and help.

I left inspired. And certain of one thing.

I'll be back soon.

¡Muchas gracias, Dominicana!