Sosa responded to Mayor Cedeo's accusation, saying, "Never is it enough. I want the people in the United States to know I've done the best I can to help my people. I can only do so much. I can't do everything."

Sosa always did things with big displays and a lot of noise. In his 1998 "Up with People" tour, he went to San Pedro with a lot of press and handed out gifts on the street. In 1999, Sosa, the former shoe-shine boy, took two hundred shoe-shine boys in Santo Domingo to lunch, to which Macorisanos responded that he had failed to do anything for their shoeshine boys.

But it seemed that almost anything Sammy did turned to scandal. In 1998 he gave New York mayor Rudolph Giuliani the bat with which he had supposedly hit his sixty-sixth home run that season. Governor George Pataki got number fifty-nine. But the Baseball Hall of Fame revealed that they had both of those bats, and Sosa admitted to having gotten a little carried away with the moment. "The Mayor was so nice to me," he explained. "I didn't want to disappoint him."

In 2000, Fortune magazine reported that Sosa's Plaza 30/30 was a.s.sessed at $2.7 million and had been donated to his foundation for a tax savings of at least $1 million. Aside from a clinic, which was always packed with poor people and where, Sosa claimed, 150 children were inoculated a day and dental care was provided, the princ.i.p.al tenant was his sister, who operated a boutique, a beauty salon, and a dis...o...b..t paid no rent. The magazine reported that Sosa was not putting money into the foundation and it was near bankruptcy even though his friend and onetime compet.i.tor Mark McGwire had contributed $100,000 to it. In 2001, Art Sandoval, the administrator of Sosa's charitable foundation, claimed that the entire foundation, including Plaza 30/30 and its clinic, had been set up as a tax scheme that saved Sosa millions. While legal wrongdoings were never proven, even in an IRS investigation, the damage to Sosa's image remained in the minds of many Macorisanos.

In 1999, the Congress of Racial Equality (CORE) planned to give Sosa their International Brotherhood Award but then complained that he had demanded a private jet to pick him up in Santo Domingo, fly him to the awards in New York, and then fly him to Las Vegas for a Mike Tyson fight. Also, according to CORE, Sosa wanted them to provide him with a luxury hotel suite and two other rooms for a.s.sociates, buy him five ringside seats at the fight, set up a fund-raising dinner with CORE contributors, and guarantee at least $60,000 in contributions for Dominican hurricane relief. He also wanted to bring memorabilia to sell at the awards event. They could not come to terms and Sosa did not attend. CORE national chairman Roy Innis said that Sosa "has to learn how to deal with his fifteen minutes of fame." And that was exactly the problem: baseball stars are famous and they do earn millions, but only for a great moment.

For Macorisanos, Sosa had become the symbol of the idea that their players did not really come through for them. San Pedro's heroes, like those of the Greeks, had flaws. If they were seen in San Pedro, as Rico Carty was, Macorisanos forgave them. But if they were rarely seen in town, then they had turned their backs and were not forgiven.

Sosa did not live in San Pedro. Instead he built a $5 million mansion in Santo Domingo. He would often tell American reporters how much he loved his hometown and how he had San Pedro scenes depicted on stained-gla.s.s windows in his mansion. But outside the window was not San Pedro.

Alexander, a young man in Consuelo, said, "I know Sammy Sosa. I know some of his family. In '98 he built a big mansion in Santo Domingo. First he built a normal house in San Pedro, but once he built the mansion in Santo Domingo, we didn't see him anymore."

Sammy's grandmother, Rosa Julia Sosa, still lived in a three-room cinder-block house in Consuelo. When the New York Daily News went to interview her in 1999, she complained that she hadn't seen him in two years and asked the reporter for money.

After his retirement in 2007, Sosa abandoned his mansion in the capital for La Romana, where George Bell-who abandoned his San Pedro mansion because of a divorce-also lived. Joaqun Andjar, who also left his San Pedro mansion because of a divorce, left San Pedro entirely for Santo Domingo in 2008. San Pedro was finding it difficult to attract its wealthy ex-ballplayers.

La Romana and San Pedro, while both eastern sugar towns, were very different. Although both had considerable poverty, the river in La Romana was filled not with nineteen-foot fishing boats but with fifty-foot yachts. Bell built a new home at the guarded and gated La Romana resort of Casa de Campo, which had white stucco villas and seven thousand acres designed by Dominican designer Oscar de la Renta. Impossible for the casual visitor or neighborhood Dominican to enter, this private compound of mostly foreigners was the ultimate in wealthy exclusion. Perhaps of even greater interest to Bell, it had two golf courses planned by the celebrated course designer Pete Dye.

Bell played golf every Sat.u.r.day and Sunday. Not surprising for a man who became a star because of his hand-eye coordination and smooth swing, he was a good golfer. So was Babe Ruth. Bell had a four handicap. "I could do better," he said. "But as soon as you are good, no one plays with you, and it's no fun."

In middle age, Bell was still large, muscular, broad-shouldered, and fit-a tough-looking man with the handle of a handgun sticking up from the back of his blue-jeans waistband. He explained that he carried a gun because he didn't "want anyone messing with me." It was hard to believe anyone would, but he was a very wealthy man in a crime-ridden and impoverished land.

Bell, who had made about $2 million a year as a player, invested his money. He owned a construction company that built condominiums and a farm that used to produce dairy and then became a lemon plantation. For a while he rented it to his old team, the Blue Jays, as an academy, but they moved and he had trouble finding another team. That business was becoming very compet.i.tive. He lived a quiet life playing golf, fishing for marlin, and running his businesses.

"I don't really spend my time with other baseball players," he said. "I like to be alone. I was like that when I was playing, too. I don't like to stay out late, don't like to drink because I feel terrible the next day. I went to Alfredo's disco for the inauguration and never went back. I don't want to be out on the Malecn. I like to be home by nine o'clock. I don't like people bothering me."

Although his friend with the disco on the Malecn, Alfredo Griffin, was very different, he was one of the few baseball players with whom Bell maintained a friendship. Together they organized an annual charity golf tournament.

Mayor Tony Echavara said of the local baseball stars, "Some make a lot of noise when they do things; others do it very quietly."

Most of the ex-players, whether they had money or not, had charitable foundations. Supporting youth programs was a favorite activity. Rico Carty had played baseball before ballplayers became fabulously wealthy, but he had a large house and a good car and lived better than most Macorisanos. And he had the Rico Carty Foundation, which was located in a beat-up downtown building. Inside the dank and dark offices, no phones were ringing and no one was working. They were playing dominoes-a tough-looking group of men. The furniture was flimsy and the doors were blackened from fingerprints. The scene was reminiscent of the local party offices under Balaguer where patronage was dispensed to supporters and punishment to opponents. One of the domino players, a burly, overweight black man with a shaved head and enormous hands, was Rico Carty.

Carty explained that the Rico Carty Foundation needed money.

What does the foundation do?

"Helps poor people," he explained. "Gives them medicine, things like that."

He wanted to be paid $500 to be interviewed. "It's not for me," he protested without prodding. "It's for the foundation."

He was offered more than $500 worth of medicine, but he insisted on cash and looked sad and disappointed when he realized he wasn't going to get it. "I've given a hundred interviews," he said in a cranky tone, "and what do I have to show for it?"

Most of the ex-players had their own ideas about helping their town. Tony Fernndez had a six-hundred-acre farm on the outskirts of San Pedro that he used as a retreat for orphans, with dormitories, chapels, meeting rooms, and a baseball diamond. He also built an orphanage. Orphanages were his primary concern. He pushed the importance of education. But most of the male orphans he talked to about education were hoping to impress him with their baseball talent so they could someday get signed.

While Fernndez focused on orphanages, Soriano built a baseball field in his old neighborhood by the Quisqueya sugar mill. It was like this all over the Dominican Republic. Pedro Martnez, who grew up near Santo Domingo, built churches-one Catholic and one Baptist-in the capital.

The public likes to make heroes out of athletes, and in San Pedro, heroes who will make their poor town prosper at last. But heroics is a lot to expect from someone s.n.a.t.c.hed away without education at age sixteen and handed fame and wealth at a dizzying speed while living in a world of unworldly men devoted to perfecting a boy's game. Since the public has exaggerated expectations for these ballplayers, they develop an exaggerated sense of their own importance that they find very difficult to fit into reality once they stop playing. Doug Glanville, an ex-major leaguer himself, wrote in The New York Times in April 2008, "Most baseball players develop a special kind of sh.e.l.l that forms around them as their careers unfold. It probably isn't that different from an egg sh.e.l.l. It's fragile, but no one is really allowed inside until the player is ready to share his secrets, or until something terrible happens causing the protective layer to crack. Inside the player justifies his need to be secluded. He perceives that the court of public opinion will either build him up or tear him down. . . . So he uses this barrier to protect himself from the fickle judgments of the peanut gallery and to make it through his world."

For all their money, the best baseball players could hope for was to become what was known in the Dominican Republic as gente de segundo, the highest social cla.s.s money can buy. It takes generations to be Dominican upper cla.s.s. A lot of the big money in San Pedro still came from old sugar families like the Vicini Cabrals, possibly the wealthiest and most powerful family in the country. The dynasty was founded by an Italian immigrant, Juan Bautista Vicini, who came to San Pedro in the 1870s and was one of the early architects of the Dominican sugar boom. Cristbal Coln was among the Vicini sugar mills. The Hazn family emigrated from Lebanon in the late nineteenth century, also got into sugar, solidified their position by close ties with Balaguer, and remained one of the wealthiest and most powerful families in eastern Dominican Republic; the Hazns are based in San Pedro. The Barcel family started with Julin Barcel, who emigrated from Spain in 1905, and built a fortune mainly in agro-industry. They invested heavily in Juan Dolio beach hotels. Only about two dozen families own almost all of the large companies in the Dominican Republic. These are three of them. As a group they are even less known for their civic-mindedness than baseball players are.

As for baseball, Major League Baseball claimed it generated $76 million in business annually in the Dominican Republic, which would make it a leading Dominican industry comparable to tourism in the jobs and revenue it provided. Major League Baseball claimed that its Dominican players sent home $210 million in 2003 alone and that it spent $14.7 million on 30 academies that provided, directly and indirectly, 2,100 jobs, many of them in San Pedro.

Mayor Echavara had a different way of looking at it. Even if major-league players spent money only on themselves and their immediate families, Echavara argued, they were still investing in the town. "Sammy Sosa does a lot of things for San Pedro," the mayor said. "When he first got his contract, he built a big house for his mother, and that is an investment in San Pedro. And he built 30/30. That's an investment. Alfredo Griffin built Cafe Caribe, the disco on the Malecn. Most players invest here in real estate. It's for their families, but it's an investment. They mostly invest in goods and real estate." To the mayor, even a shopping spree was a welcome investment.

But he thought the most important contribution of baseball to San Pedro was that "baseball gives an activity to the poorest children and it changes their lives and the lives of their families."

George Bell wasn't completely sure about the impact of baseball. Sitting at his desk in his small office crammed with fishing tackle, a large mounted marlin, and an array of golf trophies, he said, "They give too much money and it's going to end up trouble: so much money and no education." But when he, who dropped out of school at age seventeen to sign, was asked if he had any regrets about not finishing his education, he sat back in his chair, put his arms behind his head, and replied, "Not really. I'm very satisfied with what I did and what I'm doing."

At the gate at Tetelo Vargas Stadium, the rut between the street and the parking lot is so deep that it takes great care to drive a car in without sc.r.a.ping its nose. But the stadium itself was one of the best-maintained properties in San Pedro and looked even newer than it was.

Most days of the year there was either some kind of a game or practice going on, with a good possibility that some kid on that field was a future major-league player. Which was why, although the stadium might have seemed empty, there were always a few serious-looking older men in the seats, some with folders or papers, sometimes one behind home plate with a speed gun to measure pitches: scouts for the major leagues.

If you had good hand-eye coordination, if you could run fast, if you could throw a ball hard, if you were extremely tall or left-handed or, even better, both, you had a chance of rescuing your entire family and becoming a millionaire. Why wouldn't you try?

Once July 2 approached, anyone with a sixteen-and-a-half-year-old boy in the family had the hope of a better life.

San Pedro is not about baseball for everyone. For some it is still the city of Gastn Deligne and Pedro Mir. When merengue star Juan Luis Guerra wrote his popular song about San Pedro, "Guavaberry," he did not even mention baseball. He sang about the Malecn, watching the sunset, meeting women, and drinking guavaberry. And it is true that it is very pleasant at the end of the day on the Malecn, looking past the rocks and the palm trees, watching the last rays of a hot sun light the bright turquoise sea, glowing against the backdrop of a dark-blue sky. It's even better while sipping guavaberry.

Macorisanos know this and appreciate it. But most of them need to be rescued. And there is only one way that will happen.

Asked that chronic San Pedro question, Why does this town produce so many baseball players? Jose Can said, "Because we don't have anything else here and we aren't tall enough for basketball."

APPENDIX ONE.

The First Seventy-nine: Major League Baseball Players from San Pedro de Macors Since 1962, Macorisanos have been entering the ranks of Major League Baseball with such frequency that between 1980 and 2008 there were only two years when at least one new Macorisano didn't debut as a major leaguer. The dates of birth and even in some cases the names given here are the official data and may not reflect the true ages and names of players.

1962.

Amado Samuel

Amado Ruperto Samuel debuted in the major leagues on April 10, 1962, for the Milwaukee Braves, and played his final game on July 11, 1964, for the New York Mets, playing a total of three seasons in the majors. He was born on December 6, 1938, in Santa Fe and played shortstop, second base, and third base.

Manny Jimenez

Manuel Emilio Rivera Jimenez debuted in the major leagues on April 11, 1962, for the Kansas City Athletics and played his final game on May 27, 1969, for the Chicago Cubs. He was born on November 19, 1938, in San Pedro de Macors. He played 214 games as a left fielder and 22 games as a right fielder. After playing for the Athletics, the Pittsburgh Pirates drafted him in the minor-league draft on November 29, 1966. He was traded to the Cubs on January 15, 1969, and he ended his seven-season career playing for the Cubs. In 1962 his batting average was .301, the highest in the American League. In his best year, 1968, it went up to .303.

1963.

Pedro Gonzlez

Pedro Olivares Gonzlez debuted in the major leagues on April 11, 1963, for the New York Yankees and played his final game on September 27, 1967. He was born on December 12, 1937, in Angelina. He was primarily a second baseman. The Yankees signed him prior to the 1958 season. He finished his major-league career playing for the Indians. He was known for his defense, making 31 errors in five seasons.

Rico Carty

Ricardo Adolfo Jacobo Carty was born on September 1, 1939, in Consuelo. He primarily played outfield. The Milwaukee Braves signed him as a free agent on October 24, 1959. He debuted in the major leagues on September 15, 1963, for the Milwaukee Braves (the future Atlanta Braves) and played his final game on September 23, 1979, with the Toronto Blue Jays. From 1972 through 1978, he was traded by the Braves to the Texas Rangers, purchased by the Chicago Cubs, purchased by the Oakland Athletics, purchased by the Cleveland Indians, drafted by the Blue Jays, traded to the Indians, traded back to the Blue Jays, traded to the Athletics, and purchased by the Blue Jays. He played a total of fifteen seasons in the major leagues and his best season was in 1970, playing for the Braves: he was given the batting t.i.tle of the National League with a .366 batting average, 25 home runs, and 101 RBIs. For his career, he had 278 doubles, 890 RBIs, and 204 home runs. He had a batting average of .300 or higher in 1964 (.330), 1965 (.310), 1966 (.326), 1969 (.342), 1970 (.366), 1974 (.363), 1975 (.308), and 1976 (.310).

1964.

Rick Joseph

Ricardo Joseph was born on August 24, 1939, in the Santa Fe sugar mill. He died on September 8, 1979, in Santiago, Dominican Republic. He played primarily third base but also first base, left field, and one game as a second baseman. Joseph debuted in the major leagues on June 18, 1964, for the Kansas City Athletics. He played one season and then left Major League Baseball, returning in 1967 to play for the Philadelphia Phillies for four seasons until he ended his career in 1970.

1965.

Elvio Jimenez

Felix Elvio Rivera Jimenez was born on January 6, 1940, in Santa Fe. He is the brother of Manny Jimenez. An outfielder, his first game in the major leagues, played on October 4, 1964, was also his final game in the majors. He had a .333 batting average in that one game.

1969.

Rafael Robles

Rafael Robles was born on October 20, 1947, in San Pedro de Macors. The San Francisco Giants signed him prior to the 1967 season and then gave him up to the Padres in the 1968 expansion draft. He debuted in the major leagues on April 8, 1969, for the San Diego Padres and played his final game on June 10, 1972. He played shortstop, except for one game in which he played third base. His three-season career was entirely with the Padres. He died on August 13, 1998.

Santiago Guzmn