Dayron Varona made an incredible full-circle journey, from Cuban defector to a symbol of how normalizing relations between Cuba and the U.S. could bring the two countries closer together.

This year, Varona was back in Cuba, once again helping build bridges between Cuba and the U.S.

Belly of the Beast journalist Liz Oliva Fernández sat down with Varona to talk about his career, Cuba and how sanctions are an obstacle for Cuban baseball players who want to pursue their dream of playing in Major League Baseball.

TRANSCRIPT

Liz Oliva Fernández:

What was your dream as a baseball player? 

Dayron Varona:

I didn’t have one. It just happened. I was always running. I liked to bat. But I wasn’t a big baseball fan.

Liz Oliva Fernández:

How did you end up playing baseball then?

Dayron Varona:

I realized that I had more chances to be successful in baseball than soccer. I came from a family that didn’t have much. It was just me and my mom. So I went with baseball.

Liz Oliva Fernández:

Once you were already playing baseball, what future did you see for yourself? What did you want?

Dayron Varona:

I wanted to be the best Cuban baseball player. Or at least one of the best. I don’t think I was ever the best, but I wasn’t 

the worst either. 

Liz Oliva Fernández:

So, did the dream come true? 

Dayron Varona:

I would say yes. I achieved what I wanted in Cuban baseball, at least within my province.

Liz Oliva Fernández:

What province did you play for?

Dayron Varona:

Camagüey and Villa Clara. We won the title when I was there. 

Liz Oliva Fernández:

What’s your favorite memory of playing in Cuba’s National Series? 

Dayron Varona:

The 2013 final between Villa Clara and Matanzas when we won the championship. 

Liz Oliva Fernández:

What happened in that final? 

Dayron Varona:

Pestano hit a home run with the bases loaded. It was incredible. It was a feeling I had never felt before. I looked at the stands and they were so packed. And I thought: Wow, this is baseball. I came to feel that again playing for Tampa at the Latin American Stadium. Over 55,000 fans. I couldn’t believe it. I felt my head was going to explode. I just went: Wow! And people were screaming. When I went to bat, I was first in the line up, and everyone stood to applaud me. It was…

Liz Oliva Fernández:

How did you go from playing for Camagüey and Villa Clara to playing for Tampa Bay?

Dayron Varona:

It’s no secret that I made the decision to leave and try my luck in the best baseball league

Liz Oliva Fernández:

When did you decide to leave Cuba?

Dayron Varona:

2013.

Liz Oliva Fernández:

How did you leave? 

Dayron Varona:

I left in a very crazy way, one I didn’t think I would ever do –in a speedboat. I just did it. That’s how things have always been for me.

Liz Oliva Fernández:

What did you hope to achieve by leaving Cuba?

Dayron Varona:

First, to be involved in professional baseball. From there, just trying to get as far as I could.

Liz Oliva Fernández:

How does a Cuban baseball player make it to the Major Leagues?

Dayron Varona:

It’s terrible… Due to U.S. sanctions we have to go to a third country. Then in that country

you need to get papers and then… Endless paperwork.

Liz Oliva Fernández:

You can’t join the MLB directly from Cuba?

Dayron Varona:

No. At least not yet.

Liz Oliva Fernández:

So you need to…

Dayron Varona:

…go to a third country. Dominican Republic, Mexico, some island.

Liz Oliva Fernández:

Where did you go?

Dayron Varona:

Dominican Republic. And then I started the paperwork. I became a free agent. I had to become a resident there. 

Liz Oliva Fernández:

Can a Cuban join the MLB with their Cuban nationality? 

Dayron Varona:

No. You need to change your residency. 

Liz Oliva Fernández:

I’m sorry. I’m just trying to understand. What’s the difference between a Cuban who wants to enter the MLB and a Dominican or Venezuelan? 

Dayron Varona:

U.S. sanctions. 

Liz Oliva Fernández:

The U.S. prevents you from entering professional baseball directly? 

Dayron Varona:

Because of their sanctions. And then it gets complicated. That’s why Cubans struggle so much. A Venezuelan can just sign a deal through an academy in Venezuela. A Dominican can be scouted in a Dominican academy and be signed. Not Cubans though. Cubans have to go through a lot to get to the MLB. 

Liz Oliva Fernández:

What was your experience?

Dayron Varona:

It wasn’t the worst, but it wasn’t the best. I even got kidnapped. 

Liz Oliva Fernández:

Seriously? 

Dayron Varona:

For 100 dollars. Unbelievable. 

Liz Oliva Fernández:

You were kidnapped for 100 dollars? 

Dayron Varona:

Yes. I was crossing Haiti en route to the D.R. But people there know. They see two or three people in a nice car and they know it’s a baseball player, or someone with money.

Liz Oliva Fernández:

And they asked for 100 dollars from your family? From whom?

Dayron Varona:

From the guy that was with me. They asked for 100 dollars to let me pass. We ended up paying like 800. 

Liz Oliva Fernández:

I’m so sorry. How is the life of a migrant Cuban baseball player? 

Dayron Varona:

Very, very hard. You are forced to make the decision to leave it all behind.You get to a country where everything is different, where you are not treated the way you would like. You struggle if you don’t know the language. I had half a million dollars in the bank and yet I spent three days sleeping in my car because I was ashamed to speak English. I couldn’t even say hi.You get to a country where everything is different, where you are not treated the way you would like. You struggle if you don’t know the language. I had half a million dollars in the bank and yet I spent three days sleeping in my car because I was ashamed to speak English. I couldn’t even say hi.

Liz Oliva Fernández:

And no one spoke to you in Spanish?

Dayron Varona:

No. When I got there it was all Americans. There might have been a few Latinos or someone who spoke Spanish, but it was hard for me. My own embarrassment inhibited me. 

Liz Oliva Fernández:

Who were you playing for at the time? 

Dayron Varona:

Tampa. For their Double-A team.

Liz Oliva Fernández:

And your teammates? 

Dayron Varona:

They didn’t know. I would get up in the morning and go to a McDonald’s to eat breakfast and I would be embarrassed. I would just say: this, this, this, pointing at whatever someone else ordered. The same, the same, the same. 

Liz Oliva Fernández:

And you had to eat well, I suppose.

Dayron Varona:

Of course. I would wait for the stadium to open so I could get in and at least get some rest there because I was spending the whole night in the car.

Liz Oliva Fernández:

How did you go from leaving Cuba in a speedboat, being kidnapped between Haiti and the D.R., to signing for Tampa Bay?

Dayron Varona:

I got a permit to travel to the U.S. I came to do several tryouts and I signed.

Liz Oliva Fernández:

What did you feel? I imagine it wasn’t overnight. It was a process. How long did it take between leaving Cuba and being signed?

Dayron Varona:

A year. But I wasn’t happy when I signed. 

Liz Oliva Fernández:

Why? 

Dayron Varona:

I’m not the most expressive person. My agent rushed to my house to give me the news. He told me: We signed! That’s nice. 

Liz Oliva Fernández:

That was your reaction?

Dayron Varona:

Yes. That’s nice. My only question was: When does my mom get here?

Liz Oliva Fernández:

Where was your mom? 

Dayron Varona:

In the D.R. 

Liz Oliva Fernández:

You left for the U.S. without your mother?

Dayron Varona:

I was the one that got the visa so I had to go alone. 

Liz Oliva Fernández:

Where is your mom now?

Dayron Varona:

With me. She lives with me now. 

Liz Oliva Fernández:

What does your mother mean to you?

Dayron Varona:

Everything.

Liz Oliva Fernández:

Was she the one who pushed you to play baseball?

Dayron Varona:

No. In fact, my mom didn’t even know I played. I’ve sacrificed a lot to achieve my goals. 

Liz Oliva Fernández:

What was the hardest part of the whole process? 

Dayron Varona:

The paperwork as a free agent, being in a country where you’re not planning on staying and you don’t know anyone. I spent around five months in Haiti and it was crazy. I was alone. There was another baseball player with me, but when you decide to take on that trip you are on your own. It was hard. You have to eat stuff that you don’t even know what it 's made of. And you see so many disasters, so much… A lot of people say things in Cuba are bad, but if you travel around…You have to see other realities. I’ve been living in the U.S. for 11 years and I only know one person in my neighborhood. In Cuba you would have coffee with your neighbors. You can ask for salt and they will give it to you. But once you leave, it all changes and you struggle. 

Liz Oliva Fernández:

How was it returning to Havana with Tampa Bay?

Dayron Varona:

I couldn't believe it for the first five days.

Liz Oliva Fernández:

Do you remember what was happening at the time? You were playing in the Latin American Stadium, but not for Camagüey or Villa Clara. You were now wearing a Tampa Bay uniform after having left Cuba.

Dayron Varona:

At first I was in shock. I knew I was walking, but I didn’t know where to. A few days went by and I started seeing the news. CNN, BBC, and so on. And then I started reflecting on everything. And I realized that I had made history.

Liz Oliva Fernández:

Where were you in the batting order that day?

Dayron Varona:

I batted first.

Liz Oliva Fernández:

How did the fans receive you? The Cuban fans who had followed you since Camagüey and Villa Clara. How did they receive you now as part of the opposing team?

Dayron Varona:

At first someone told me in the lockers: You need to be prepared in case the fans don’t applaud you. But I said: I don’t think so.I didn’t leave Cuba because of political issues, I didn’t detonate a bomb or anything like that. I play baseball. And I’m Cuban, acere. No one is going to hold anything against me. As soon as I came to the plate to bat, everyone stood and applauded me.

Liz Oliva Fernández:

How did that feel? 

Dayron Varona:

It was the best feeling in the world. There’s no greater feeling than that. I could feel it rush through my body, from my toes to the ends of my hair. People were telling me to bat, but I just couldn't. I tried. And let me tell you, if I had hit that ball dead on I would have hit the longest home run in the history of Latin American Stadium. 

Liz Oliva Fernández:

I want to clarify that when you returned to Havana to play for Tampa Bay, Cuba and the U.S. were in the process of normalizing relations and that game was historic   because the presidents of both countries sat next to one another to enjoy a baseball game for the first time. So, when you say you were making history it’s because you were literally making history. 

What did your teammates, ex-teammates from Cuba, say at the time? 

Dayron Varona:

That it was a good thing. That it could open the door for many other players.

Liz Oliva Fernández:

Open up doors how?

Dayron Varona:

To be able to play. 

Liz Oliva Fernández:

In the MLB? Like the Dominicans, Venezuelans, Colombians? 

Dayron Varona:

Without restrictions. And I thought it was going to happen. But it all fell apart in the end. That game happened and it was great, but it all fell apart. 

Liz Oliva Fernández:

The deal was signed between MLB and Cuba, but then Trump became president and canceled it.

Dayron Varona:

It was painful because I would like to see more Cubans play there. 

Liz Oliva Fernández:

Before, if a baseball player left Cuba, no matter how he did, he was considered a traitor. Has that changed?

Dayron Varona:

I would say it has. 

Liz Oliva Fernández:

We are doing this interview in Havana, Cuba, after all.

Dayron Varona:

I left 11 years ago. And I have been back countless times, and I have never heard that word.

Liz Oliva Fernández:

Do you think that’s everyone’s experience? 

Dayron Varona:

I can only talk about my experience. Personally, I have never been called a traitor.

Liz Oliva Fernández:

Is it easy to return to Cuba after leaving? 

Dayron Varona:

It’s not about whether it’s easy. It’s every Cuban’s longing to return. So you put up with the process. Whether they let you come back or not.

Liz Oliva Fernández:

Who’s decision is it? 

Dayron Varona:

I’ll tell you in a metaphor: If you leave my home on bad terms, you can’t expect me to welcome you with open arms. I’m not saying you don't have a point. But you have to respect the other point of view. We all have our points of view. You and I could be sitting face to face and you would see a six here and I would see a nine. 

Liz Oliva Fernández:

What is Dayron Varona doing now? 

Dayron Varona:

I have an academy of over 50 kids, ages 6 to 11, and a few 12-year-olds I do personal training for.

Liz Oliva Fernández:

What’s the name of your academy?

Dayron Varona:

The Varona Bulls.

Liz Oliva Fernández:

Why? 

Dayron Varona:

Varona is my last name. And the Bulls is the name of Camagüey’s team. And I played for the Durham Bulls as well. There’s a famous film about it. So the father of one of the kids suggested the name. And I said: Ok, Bulls it is.  

Liz Oliva Fernández:

You liked it.

Dayron Varona:

Yes. And that was it. 

Liz Oliva Fernández:

What are you doing here in Havana? 

Dayron Varona:

I brought two teams to play here. 

Liz Oliva Fernández:

Why bring them here?

Dayron Varona:

I always had this in mind, but I couldn’t make it happen because American parents are difficult.

Liz Oliva Fernández:

Why is that? 

Dayron Varona:

Because there’s a lot of stuff on TV about how Cuba is bad and that type of thing.

Liz Oliva Fernández:

What’s bad and what’s good? 

Dayron Varona:

Right now there’s a lot of talk about blackouts and the Russian ships, and that there may be a war. And to me it’s like: What are you even talking about? That type of thing. But, in the end, I made it happen.

Liz Oliva Fernández:

And what was the experience like? 

Dayron Varona:

Amazing. It reminded me of when I played as a kid. In the U.S., kids learn to play ball when they are 12 years old. In Cuba, 7-8 year-olds play like men. And I understand why. 

Liz Oliva Fernández:

Why?

Dayron Varona:

Cuban kids wake up, they put on some shorts and they go to the corner to run and play ball with a stick. Kids in the U.S. are different. They’re a bit more high maintenance. These kids here know they have to fight for it. I had to man up if I ever wanted to wear Adidas.

Liz Oliva Fernández:

What did this mean for the kids? What have they told you? 

Dayron Varona:

The parents don’t know how to thank me. 

Liz Oliva Fernández:

The parents from the U.S.?

Dayron Varona:

Yes. They tell me: My kid has changed his perspective. My kid says he wants to play like Cuban kids. Cubans have so much potential. 

Liz Oliva Fernández:

You said some were hesitant about the trip because a lot of U.S. media says negative things about Cuba. There are also many Cuban players in the U.S. who say they’re never coming back to Cuba. What do you think about that? 

Dayron Varona:

It’s all about how you want to see things. If you want to focus on the bad things, you will only see the bad. If you want to focus on the good, you will see the good. I came here for the kids. If I can give a Cuban kid a pair of shoes, that’s 20 dollars that his parents don’t have to worry about. So, if I can give it to them, that’s good. But if you want to focus on the negative, you’re going to think it’s wrong regardless.

Liz Oliva Fernández:

What’s fulfilling for you about this project? 

Dayron Varona:

That I'm helping kids. I can motivate Cuban kids to achieve great things in life.

Liz Oliva Fernández:

Through baseball. Like you did.

Dayron Varona:

And I can show U.S. kids that not everything is about money. That they need to have feelings too. Because the U.S. changes you. Because everything is money. And I understand. I live in a consumerist country, where the pace of life makes you think like that. But I don’t think money is everything. 

Liz Oliva Fernández:

What does Cuba mean to you? 

Dayron Varona:

It’s where I was born. Even if many don’t want to hear this, it’s where I learned to play baseball, it’s where I cut my feet while running around barefoot as a kid, it’s where I climbed on a mango tree to steal mangos, it’s where I threw stones at my neighbor during a fight it’s where I did everything in exchange for nothing. It’s my childhood.

Liz Oliva Fernández:

What would you like to see happen with Cuba-U.S. relations?

Dayron Varona:

For Cuban players to play wherever they want without having to abandon Cuba, without having to make decisions like risking their lives on a speedboat so they can play in the U.S. without having to abandon this country.