THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Tuesday, May 16, 1995 TAG: 9505160420
SECTION: SPORTS PAGE: C1 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: BY TOM ROBINSON, STAFF WRITER
DATELINE: NORFOLK LENGTH: Long : 133 lines
Reinaldo Ordonez Perreira rode to freedom in a red Cadillac.
Engine idling, the car waited near a cemetery outside the athletes' village at the World University Games in Buffalo, N.Y. Behind the wheel was a Spanish-radio executive from Miami who had agreed to help in the Cuban baseball player's dramatic dash to renounce Castro's dictatorship.
It was Monday, July 12, 1993, just after noon. Only two days earlier, before a game in Niagara Falls, a Cuban pitcher had scaled a 12-foot stadium fence and was whisked to Miami by a cousin. Security had increased.
The man now known as Rey Ordonez, shortstop for the Norfolk Tides, did not realize pitcher Edilberto Oropesa had intended to steal away, too. Oropesa, like Ordonez, had nursed a dream and a plan for months.
Ordonez's idea drew its first breath that spring, when he learned he'd be going to Buffalo with the team. He plotted with his ex-wife, Lisa Maria, and her parents, who lived in Miami. They persuaded the radio executive to fly to Buffalo, meet Ordonez at an appointed time and place and spirit him to political asylum.
As noon arrived, Ordonez's heart was in his throat. His eyes darted, but he tried to remain calm, feigning normalcy.
Somehow, he managed to slip away from his team, at lunch before a 2 p.m. meeting, and reach the fence surrounding the village. The fence was waist-high, hardly large enough to contain Ordonez's will.
Ordonez jumped.
With that, Ordonez leaped forever from his roots, severing them for the promise of a life that could include filet mignon and champagne - his meal on his first-class flight to Miami - whenever he chose.
A life in baseball was secondary. Believe him, Ordonez says. Only when it came to determining how he would make his way in his new world did he decide baseball was his ticket.
``I defected in search of freedom because there is no such thing in Cuba,'' Ordonez once said.
Ordonez raced to find the red Cadillac parked not far away. He identified himself, hopped in and was quickly at the Buffalo airport.
Four hours later, Ordonez was in Miami.
Left in Buffalo was a team whose leaders, publicly, did not mourn Ordonez's departure, whose manager claimed his club was better without the two defectors.
Left in Havana, however, were Ordonez's father and a younger brother, Juan Carlos, who a year later would be quoted by The New York Times espousing freedom as he boarded a small raft bound for Miami.
Left as well were Lisa Maria and, most painfully, little Rey Jr. The boy was 8 months old. Today he is nearly 2 1/2. Ordonez's consistent efforts to get them both out of Cuba, by visa or any other means, have been denied.
Ordonez defected; he'll get no favors from the Cuban government. And if he returns? ``Jail,'' he told a reporter last year, holding his wrists as if in handcuffs.
He wants to talk just about baseball,'' said Tides second baseman Ed Alicea, Ordonez's interpreter on a recent day. ``About life itself, he doesn't want to even talk about, about whoever he left over there and all that.
``It's a bad situation for him. He's trying to overcome that. He left some people over there that he really loved and he really doesn't want to get into that.''
Ordonez, listed as 23 by the New York Mets, has taken that position with the media this season, though he has been more open in the past. Late last season, however, Ordonez said his reluctance to discuss personal details was out of concern for his family.
``The Cuban government reads everything,'' Ordonez said.
Perhaps, too, he is reluctant because his new life has taken on greater dimension. Ordonez says he remarried over the winter in Miami before he played ball in Puerto Rico. His wife, he says, is six months pregnant.
Professionally for Ordonez, it also has been a hectic trip to the doorstep of the big leagues. Using his sparkling defensive ability as an eye-catching calling card - his hitting lags far behind - Ordonez has played for four pro teams since August of 1993.
Soon after his defection, he was aligned with sports agents in Los Angeles, from whom Ordonez is now separated, who landed him and Oropesa jobs with the St. Paul Saints in the independent Northern League.
Ordonez got hits in his first four at-bats for St. Paul. He finished batting .283 and fielding perfectly in 15 games.
That October, Major League Baseball held a workout in West Palm Beach, Fla. to showcase Ordonez, Oropesa and a few other Cubans, who then were not subject to the draft. Bids were submitted on the players; 22 clubs reportedly sought Ordonez, clearly the best Cuban in camp.
In the weighted lottery that followed, the Mets had the most chances at Ordonez because they finished 1993 with baseball's worst record.
They won his rights and signed Ordonez for a bonus reported to be between $75,000 and $125,000. (Oropesa is with the Los Angeles Dodgers.)
Ordonez started last season at Class-A St. Lucie, where he batted .309 and was a Florida State League all-star despite playing only 79 games.
He was promoted to Double-A Binghamton where, in 48 games, he batted .262 and only enhanced a defensive reputation that is second to none in the minor leagues.
``I think he's got a chance to be one of the best shortstops in all of baseball,'' said Chuck Hiller, a Mets minor league adviser. ``He makes plays that are extraordinarily good for a normal guy but are mostly routine for him.''
The Mets expected Ordonez, a 5-foot-9, 160-pound righthanded hitter, to struggle at the plate with the Tides, and he has. He is batting just .190 (24 for 126) and teammates say his concern over that has affected him in the field, where he has made eight errors.
It is simply more that Ordonez must cope with, as if getting by with limited English skills and assimilating into a society alien to him aren't enough.
``I think he's dealing with life here pretty well,'' Mets minor league director Steve Phillips said. ``There have been times people have had to tell him to start hustling or he's been pulled from a game for not running a ball out, and he's responded very well to it. He takes constructive criticism and doesn't pout and get moody or sensitive.''
Ordonez's first look at the major leagues could come this season.
It would validate his professional motivation, just as his personal thirst for independence began to be quenched that afternoon in Buffalo.
But until his homeland has been loosened from its chains, Ordonez knows he never will be totally free.
Asked how often he thinks of Cuba, Ordonez cast his eyes down and softly said one word.
``Siempre.''
Always. ILLUSTRATION: [Color Photo]
CHRISTOPHER REDDICK/Staff photos
Rey Ordonez says he ``defected in search of freedom because there is
no such thing in Cuba'', leaving behind his father and younger
brother, ex-wife Lisa Maria and little Rey Jr., who today is nearly
2 1/2.
Defensively, some consider Rey Ordonez second to none in the minor
leagues. Says Mets minor league adviser Chuck Hiller, ``I think he's
got a chance to be one of the best shortstops in all of baseball.''
KEYWORDS: PROFILE by CNB