There are the rivalries that infect the heart, never to be repeated. If you loved the Brooklyn Dodgers then you hated the Giants. And here, if you cheer for Magallanes, then you despise Caracas.
Edgardo Alfonzo, the Mets' rising star, is the third baseman for Magallanes, the team situated in this city, and for years, his older brother Edgar played for Caracas -- the big brother of all cities in Venezuela, the capital, a two-hour drive east of here. The Alfonzos competed ferociously in the winter league, feeding the feud.
In that crucible, Edgardo Alfonzo developed the skills that have turned him into a budding star in New York, the major market in the major leagues. He hit .315 last season, ranked second in the National League with a .417 batting average with runners in scoring position, and finished second in Gold Glove Award voting, behind San Diego's Ken Caminiti. Eligible for salary arbitration this winter, he is in a position to make a great deal of money. In large measure, he has Edgar and the rivalry with his brother to thank for that.
In one game between Magallanes and Caracas, Edgardo charged a slow grounder hit by his brother, fielded it near the mound and threw spectacularly to first for the out, glancing pointedly at Edgar afterward.
An inning or two later, Edgardo slammed a line drive destined for the left-field corner, until speared by Edgar Alfonzo, the Caracas diving third baseman.
Having restored order, Edgar grinned, and Caracas fans excitedly waved their flags and blew into noisemakers. They understood the feud: Caracas vs. Magallanes, Edgar vs. Edgardo. But they could not see all the layers in the dense relationship between rival siblings.
''It's something that's hard to put into words,'' said Edgardo, the youngest of four Alfonzo children, sitting last week in Villa Madrid, a restaurant here.
Edgar, the first-born, came along in 1967, the year after his parents met and married, in a case of love at first sight. Edgar Alfonzo Sr. was on a job when he met Mercedes Pino, and in spite of the objections of her mother, they married within four months. Edgar Sr. drove a truck for a medical supplier, keeping him away from home in the small town of Miranda (population: 1,000) until late at night, or a week or two at a time.
He casually followed the careers of the best Venezuelan baseball players, such as Luis Aparicio and Vic Davalillo, but he did not play the game. Rather, he played jacks, gambling for money as a teen-ager. Baseball, he thought, was something only tots should play, certainly not a prospective vocation.
For growing boys, baseball was a waste of valuable time, he thought, a lure away from school and the education that could prove pivotal in their lives. The children of Edgar and Mercedes would concentrate on their school and go to a university; he would see to that.
But Edgar Jr. could not forget about baseball, and when his father's job took him out of Miranda, the boy would sneak off to play. Mercedes Alfonzo knew what her oldest son was doing, but never told her husband. When Edgar Sr. returned from work, Edgar could only sit home and wince over the thought of his friends playing nearby.
But the periods of inactivity hardly dulled his skills. By the time he was 14, Edgar was playing baseball with young adults, 20 or 21 years old, and one afternoon, before an important game, a handful of them went to the Alfonzo house to speak with Edgar Sr. Your son is a very good player, one of them told the father, and you should come watch him play today.
Edgar Sr. agreed, and the boy, distracted by the presence of his father and feeling as if this was a one-day audition, struck out three times. He returned home crestfallen, certain that his father would be furious.
''I know you were nervous because I was there,'' Edgar Sr. told his son, and they made a deal: Edgar Jr. had one year to prove himself. If he could not, he would quit baseball for good and then concentrate on school. Attending a game shortly thereafter, Edgar Sr. found himself being pestered by a friend convinced of Edgar's greatness. His friend bet Edgar Sr. that the boy would hit a home run that day, and when Edgar did so, his father lost a six pack of beer. Happily.
Within three years, Edgar Jr. signed a contract to play for Caracas. The first time the skinny teen-ager appeared on television in Miranda, Edgardo could hear his neighbors yelling in their houses, shouting, laughing. Asked last week about the moment, their father paused, his eyes watering. ''My first son,'' he said in Spanish, before looking down.
Pride surged through Edgardo, then 11 years old, tempered by concern for his brother's success. ''I was hoping nobody would hit a ball to him,'' Edgardo recalled.
To Edgardo, who was still playing in the sandlots, his older brother was a hero, someone to emulate. They had always been close. On those rare moments they bickered, their father would admonish them. You must not fight, Edgar Sr. would say. You are brothers.
Edgar signed with the California Angels when he was 17, and his departure for the United States was traumatic, with all the Alfonzos gathered at the airport in Caracas. He called home three times his first day away, homesick, but, his father recalled, he sounded both sad and excited. Edgar was pursuing his dream.
He would return to Miranda every fall, sharing his used equipment and experience with his two brothers. Even when Edgardo was little, Edgar was sure his little brother would be a great player. He remembers watching Edgardo play a Little League game when he was 11. Twice Edgardo stopped grounders with a dive and rose to make wicked throws, and the line drives off his bat generated a peculiar sound.
Edgar gradually climbed through the minors, establishing himself as a useful utility player. But his batting average fluctuated, injuries hampered him, and he did not have the speed to steal bases or the power to hit home runs consistently. In 1990, he had 2 hits in 11 at-bats for Class AAA Edmonton, and thereafter, his career bogged down in the minor leagues.
His kid brother, Edgardo, playing shortstop and second base, turned 17 in 1990, and thought about signing with Caracas. Edgar, then 23, encouraged him to consider all his options. Another team would have more opportunity; Caracas had a logjam of older players. Edgardo signed to play with Magallanes in Venezuela, and with the Mets in the United States. Edgar bragged to his manager with Caracas, Phil Regan, that Edgardo would be a terrific player.
That summer, Tamargo said, it became apparent Edgardo would be a good major league player or better.
That summer, Edgar realized that his career might stall in the minor leagues or worse. He was playing for Class AA Bowie, in the Baltimore organization, in the same league as his brother. The first time Bowie played at Binghamton, Edgar went to Edgardo's small, shared apartment for dinner.
Edgar Alfonzo, now 30, lives with his wife and children in Texas, and departed Monday to play in Taiwan. After three major league seasons, Edgardo Alfonzo, now 24, is a celebrity in Venezuela, his stature approaching that of Andres Galarraga of the Atlanta Braves. The first time Alfonzo played for Magallanes this season, fans at Jose Bernardo Perez Stadium stood and cheered. At the Villa Madrid, patrons and waiters occasionally interrupt him as he discusses Edgar.