I am forever linked to two baseball greats on a baseball card. Looking at it will never quite seem the same now.

After writing last week about a friend who I dedicated my recent marathon, this week is about another too-young passing of a teammate who turned into a legend. Amongst that unfortunate news, as life often alternates the bitter with the sweet, was finishing my eighteenth marathon: a beautiful experience but a story for another day. With the latest news of Fernando Valenzuela's passing, my celebratory mood has disappeared quickly.

Who Knew?

My Fernando story begins in 1980. My team, the Albuquerque Dukes, was playing for the Pacific Coast League championship. It was customary back then for the organization to help the cause by sending us a player or two from the lower levels. Well, the Dodgers sent us one player. Seeing how he did not speak English, and our manager never inserted him in a game, that was that. We did not win. That’s baseball. A slight disappointment with the Dodger front office stayed with us as we would have liked a more difference-making boost.

However, it wasn’t long before our bewilderment with the Los Angeles Dodgers management turned into our questioning of our manager. Lo and behold, the player we received who never played in the playoffs for us was Fernando Valenzuela. All the help was always there; we didn’t know it. One of the greatest pitchers of the 1980s was available, and he stayed on our bench.

Of course, the above is in jest and just one of the moments in life where one thinks, “What if?”

 It would not be long before Fernando would burst onto the major league scene as one of the best pitchers in baseball, and the sensation of “Fernandomania” was born. Along with fantastic control, Fernando developed the most unhittable pitch in the big leagues – a screwball.

I only played with Fernando for a couple of months with the Dodgers before I was traded away, but I’ve told people over the years that I consider him the most outstanding player I played with. Part of the reason for such a lofty ranking was the unlikeliness of it all. He seemed to come out of nowhere and was not athletic-looking, to say the least. But to see him handle the fittest and most accomplished players in the world was something else. And, as if that wasn’t enough, he could hit too, as he won two Silver Slugger awards as the best-hitting pitcher in baseball. Perhaps his overall numbers don’t scream Hall of Fame, but in my book, he is one. You can’t tell the story of baseball without Fernando.

He certainly was a “life” Hall of Famer. He carried himself with quiet confidence and had a little boy’s love for the game. He had charisma, humility, and dignity on and off the field. His background proves that greatness can come from anywhere and no wall is too high for people like Fernando Valenzuela to climb. I thank God for having been touched by him.  

Rest In Peace, Fernando – that screwball will work against the great hitters in heaven, too.