The green of the caps, t-shirts and pullovers overshadowed the myth of the tuna, that cactus whose abundance distinguished, by the distant 1790's, the pens of the rancher Jesus Gamboa, in San Gregorio, where people came from neighboring regions to buy cattle, so the phrase "I am going to the farm of the tunas" became usual, and little by little allotted its definitive name to this area.
Everything seems to be small in this city since Pablo Civil and his players arrived with the trophy of champions. It is also a unique and historic carnival, a happy start to the year, a good omen for the Caribbean Series and the hope that baseball will continue shining with its own light, very well won, in times to come.
Las Tunas is music, dance, warmth, laughter, pride. It is a people with a triumphant green ax in the chest that happily exhales the tensions of the excellent games that marked the end of the Series. People crowds all the corners to homage the Leñadores.
This beautiful trophy that won its carnival must be earned again. The talent is exists, and baseball is not a matter of simple luck; it is training, strength and unity... a team.
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