Rinku and Dinesh’s American Odyssey

Every Pittsburg baseball fan knows about the 1960 World Series. Pittsburg Pirates vs New York Yankees, series tied, game tied and then that moment- Bill Mazeroski's home-run soaring over the stadium, clearing a 12-ft wall. Fifty years later, two portraits of Mazeroski adorn the wall of Room 223 at the Pittsburg Pirates' southern base in Bradenton, Florida.

It is the home of one of their rookie teams that competes in the Gulf Coast League, the first rung of the United States' pro baseball ladder. Splitting the iconic photographs is an intricately woven and embroidered wall-hanging. It features Lord Shiva on a throne, surrounded by Parvati, Ganesha and Karthikeya. Below the Mazeroski images are two beds, occupied by boys who neither know his name nor the legend. But every day they pray to Shiva, pray that some day they may be as famous as the Pirate on their wall.

Until January 2008, Rinku Singh and Dinesh Patel, javelin throwers from villages in Uttar Pradesh, had not heard of baseball. Singh's father was a truck driver who raised eight children on Rs 1,500 a month until a bad back forced him into farming in Bhadohi. Patel was raised by a construction worker uncle because his father, a tailor in Gram Khanpur near Varanasi, couldn't support three children.

At inter-district athletic meets, the two country boys shared dreams of going to the Asian Games and the Olympics. They hoped to join the Indian Army. The only reason they signed up, along with 40,000 others, to take part in a television reality show called The Million Dollar Arm was to win some money. The contest was meant to unearth talented pitchers across 30 Indian cities but Singh and Patel know that had a pie-chucking contest offered better prize money, they might have gone there first.

Left-handed Rinku fired one at 89mph (143kmph) to pocket a whopping $100,000. His friends called him the King of Bhadohi. Right-handed Dinesh earned $2500 with a 87mph (140 kmph) throw. But neither was prepared for what came next: "It's only then that we realised we were to go to America," Patel says. "Sab ajeeb sa lag raha tha, sir. (It seemed weird)."

It's a sweltering July afternoon in Florida-around 40 degrees and muggy. The Pirates have just lost a close game to the Toronto Blue Jays and the Indian boys are mulling over some disappointing pitches. They guide me to their dormitory room, Patel holding open the door, a newlylearnt courtesy. On the study table are a bunch of CDs and a slightly worn-out copy of Baseball for Dummies. It's the only English book they have tried to read. Singh, the taller of the two at 6'2" settles in front of their laptop. Patel, stockier, sits on one of the beds and relives their journey.

The more he speaks, the more this seems like a wacky social experiment. Airlift two boys from Indian villages and drop them into a country where they can't understand the language. Give them brand new gadgets, and make them play an alien sport.

Initially based in the University of Southern California, they addressed their first press conference through an interpreter. "There was one thing they were asked over and over again," says J.B. Bernstein, the creator of The Million Dollar Arm, a marketing initiative from Bernstein's sports management firm. "Did they see parallels between their story and Slumdog Millionaire? Every time they just smiled patiently and tried to explain the difference between farming villages and slums." They still laugh about it. "We kept explaining that we didn't live near a garbage dump. Initially we felt bad but now we just joke about it", Patel says.

Singh is busy on Facebook. This is a boy who hadn't seen a laptop till a day before boarding the flight to the US. In the early days, apart from baseball, they learnt about Google, Youtube, chat, voice chat and social networking. Patel now starts his day by reading Dainik Jagran online. "It feels as if I'm at home."

Rarely have the Indians been made to feel otherwise, especially in a squad made up of players from 11 countries and five continents. Of the 35 players, there are nine each from the Dominican Republic and Venezuela, six from the US, two from Puerto Rico and India and one from Mexico, Panama, Australia, Canada, South Africa and Lithuania.

Spanish is the dominant language in the team but pitching coach Miguel Bonillo doesn't think that is an impediment. "I think we're lucky to have so many different perspectives," says the Dominican coach. "And everyone in the team understands the language of baseball. That's enough."

On an online conversation with a teammate, Singh throws up words like "opportunity", "disappointed" and "rhythm". Where has this vocabulary come from? "We grew up learning the great language of Sanskrit," says Patel. "Picking up English has been so much easier."

The biggest challenge has been neither culture nor dislocation but "learning baseball," says Singh. For most Americans, the sport is a centrepiece of family life, handed down from one generation to the next, with all its history and nuances.

And nuances there are aplenty. The pitcher has to watch the catcher (equivalent of the wicket-keeper), who in turn watches the coach in the dug-out. The coach usually signals by pointing to some part of his face, the catcher then communicates this to the pitcher with hand gestures. It gives a pitcher barely a couple of seconds to process the instruction, get into his stance and pitch accurately. Or he might have to abandon his pitch and instead try to run another batter out. "It's a very difficult game," says Singh. "In cricket fielders can stop concentrating for a little while and still not miss much. Here you have to keep looking out for signals."

The day after they landed they were taken to a college game in Los Angeles by Tom House, pitching coach at the University of Southern California and their baseball guru for the first five months. Their baseballilliteracy was the least of his worries. House says, "I was really worried that they would injure themselves in the process of learning. And these injuries could even ruin careers. But they were unlike any other kids I've seen because of one simple reason-they weren't scared of failing."

In November, six months after arriving, House took them to Tempe, Arizona where pitchers from around the world converged for the first round of trials. Scouts from all 30 professional teams were on the lookout for talent. Singh and Patel simply treated it like another talent-hunt show. "Ek ball aur ek bandook," says Singh, referring to the speed-gun that was to decide their fate.

In the first round neither crossed 87 mph, but in the second, in Los Angeles, Patel's 91-mph (146 kmph) fast ball didn't go unnoticed. Just as they were beginning to think about returning home-"and joining the army"-the Pirates came shopping. Their one-year contract pays them a stipend of $1,500 a month and takes care of their stay and travel. It was fitting that the first Indian to break the professional baseball barrier were a Singh and Patel-they are two most common Indian surnames in the US.

So far, they've made up 20 years of lost ground. Now they have to compete with others of their age to move up the baseball's league structure. They have four leagues to wade through before hoping for a Major League spot. They may have learnt to swim; the next few years will be like crossing the English Channel.

It's a precarious existence in the rookie leagues. One poor season is enough for a team to terminate a contract. Considering that the Pirates are one of the lower-ranked teams in the country, it's even more important that the boys don't slip. The novelty of them being the first Indians in probaseball will wear out soon; it will then be down to performance.

House is realistic. "I doubt if these guys will reach the 95mph+ (152 kmph) range but some really effective pitchers average between 89 and 93mph (149 kmph). Rinku's left-arm angle will work to his advantage. And Dinesh is likely to be quicker. The crucial years for a pitcher are between 20 and 25. This is their time."

Everyone involved in their remarkable story know what's at stake. A successful baseball career, at any level, could encourage scouts to scour India for more talent. There are 67 proleagues in the US, with enough spots for the talented, says Bernstein. "So if people can't make it in cricket in India, they may be tempted to try out baseball here." Back home, their parents and relatives know little about what the boys are up to. But the money is good, far more than they would have earned from throwing the javelin.

Occasionally Singh and Patel think about their childhood dream of hurling towards an Asian Games or Olympic medal. They wonder what they're doing playing an alien sport for a city franchise in a foreign land.

Do they mind that they are not representing India? They look at each other for a few seconds before Singh deadpans: "Doesn't matter, sir. Naam toh India ka hi hai (We do represent India after all)."

(This piece was first published in India Today magazine in August, 2009)