Get local news delivered straight to your phone
In Ballplayer: Pelotero, someone compares grooming Dominican Republic athletes for Major League Baseball to growing produce: You plant the seeds, nurture them, then sell your bounty. “It’s just the way it is,” he says. The young players, who start training as early as age 10, have no problem with that: “The gringos may have invented baseball, but we’re just better at playing it,” the kid says, adding that American players are “lazy.” But the hopefuls from the impoverished country do work hard at their sport, with the ultimate goal of signing with the pros at age 16, their bonuses allowing their families better lives.
Ballplayer: Pelotero follows two such hopefuls, Jean Carlos and Miguel, in the months leading up to “Signing Day,” July 2. Sixteen-year-old Jean Carlos is good but 15-year-old Miguel is better: He’s constantly told that he’s the country’s top prospect, which could mean a multimillion-dollar signing bonus. Their trainers are like family, with the boys seeing them more often than they see their own parents. It’s particularly true in the case of Jean Carlos, who lost his dad at age 10 and considers his coach, Astin, his father. The trainers work on commission, only getting paid if their players do.
Support City Paper!
John Leguizamo unremarkably narrates the story of the two boys’ paths, which feels like the documentary offspring of last year’s Oscar-nominated Moneyball and 2008’s Sugar. Money, money, money—even more so than talent—is the focus here, with the players speculating (mostly in modest awe) about how much they’re rumored to be offered. But, as in Moneyball, there are teams with deep pockets and ones who can’t afford such prodigies, but try anyway.
Which leads to the ballplayers’ second-biggest issue: Proving their age. Like cars, the kids depreciate as they age, and teams don’t want to sign a 19-year-old when they think they’re getting someone at 16. Pittsburgh Pirates scout Rene Gayo kicks off an investigation into Miguel’s identity (yes, even the players’ names are questioned, after a scandal involving a Washington National) after claiming that the boy seems too “mature.” MLB’s investigation, which includes bloodwork, DNA tests, and even a bone scan, drags on past signing day, dramatically decreasing Miguel’s potential worth.
What exactly MLB needed to complete its investigation is a mystery, and at this point, Ballplayer quickly becomes shallow and confusing. Three directors are a case of too many cooks, with the film whipping back and forth between the two players’ storylines—which wouldn’t be such a problem if scenes of their handlers didn’t outnumber those of the boys themselves. Further muddling things, Jean Carlos ends up getting investigated, too, and on signing day he ends up receiving the exact offer that Miguel does from a different team. If this were fiction, you’d call bullshit.
With those similarities, the ballplayers’ paths essentially become one, and the film finally becomes an overwhelming mess. When the offers suddenly emerge, you don’t know why. Negotiations largely remain unfilmed, and MLB refused to be interviewed for the doc. There’s an accusation that reveals one character as something of a villain, which at least makes the proceedings interesting again, if only for the very end of the movie. But for too large a portion of Ballplayer’s third act, it seems the filmmakers went on strike.