This Monday I found a short and sweet article, written by William Coppola, about his recent experience at the Parque Nacional Antonio Escarré, in San Jose.

“El Escarré,” as we Costa Ricans call it, is the baseball stadium in Barrio La Cruz, San Cayetano, which happens to be the area where I grew up, not terribly far away from downtown San Jose. I was born and raised about five blocks away from this stadium, so, while Mr. Coppola underlines that Costa Rica is not much of a baseball country, for me, as a kid from that hood, baseball was always a thing.

I have vivid memories of going to the Escarré. I remember an important night when we went to see a team from China play our local team. I hope my memory serves me well when I picture their white uniforms with red trimmings, but I know my memory is exact as I “hear” the vendors offering “patteee, patteee” (meat patties made in Caribbean coast style), because I so loved (and still do) the savory treats. Maybe half the excitement of going to the game came from the expectation of eating one of them.

Growing up it was not rare to find a baseball in any of the streets surrounding the stadium. It was also common to see people watching the games (lucky dogs… for free!) from the second floor of the homes that circled the park. Those were the days… and I’m so totally missing my aunt Eunice right now. She spoiled me to death in my youth.

The article also says a couple of things that I wasn’t aware of, like the fact that Rawlings has a factory in Turrialba (my parents were born there, this article was so totally for me) were millions of baseballs are hand-stitched every year.

What a trip to the past I’ve taken! Read his article HERE. It may do the same for you.

 

Photo credit: Paranomio.com / That’s not me in the picture

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