LOS ANGELES — Renowned Dodgers player Fernando Valenzuela had been unwell for a considerable time, yet he chose not to share his struggles, even with close friends, wishing to keep his ailments private.
Watching him pitch was always a marvel, with his unique style and his expressive eyes. Even after he retired, his humor and presence could easily light up a room.
However, this summer marked a significant change.
When you encountered him, the spark that once defined him seemed to have vanished, replaced by an emptiness in his gaze.
My last encounter with him was in Phoenix just six weeks ago, during a Dodgers game against the Arizona Diamondbacks. Concern was evident when I saw him, and our conversation revealed alarming signs.
It felt unusual that he addressed me differently this time. For decades, he would affectionately call me “Matt,” jokingly associating me with former All-Star infielder Matt Williams. He laughed each time he said it. I’m not entirely sure he even remembered my real name.
This time, however, he seemed distant and only acknowledged my presence when I approached him, sitting quietly and eating while others enjoyed lively conversations.
Inquiring about his health to those around him elicited grimaces; it was clear everyone was aware of his illness, but Valenzuela had no intention of discussing it.
He had been diagnosed with liver cancer, bravely suffering in silence, not wanting anyone to pity him. He passed away on Tuesday at the age of 63.
Valenzuela aimed to maintain the pure joy he brought when he made his remarkable debut in 1981.
He came from Etchohuaquila, Mexico, becoming an immediate sensation in Los Angeles, sparking immense pride among the Latino community and even prompting many Anglo fans to learn some Spanish phrases.
In 1981, Valenzuela made baseball history by winning both the Cy Young and Rookie of the Year awards in the same season, establishing himself as the most accomplished athlete ever from Mexico.
Todays, 43 years later, his stature remains unmatched.
He had achieved such legendary status that he needed no last name.
He was simply “Fernando.”
He held a revered place in Mexico, recognized and celebrated everywhere he went.
When driving in Mexico, he didn’t require a license plate or even a driver’s license. Everyone recognized him.
Fernando.
No need to complicate it.
Tragically, just three days before the World Series—when the Dodgers face the New York Yankees for the first time in this classic since Valenzuela’s rookie year—he has passed.
However, “Fernandomania” will endure.
“He is one of the most influential Dodgers of all time and deserves a spot on the Mount Rushmore of franchise legends,” said Stan Kasten, Dodgers CEO and president, in a statement. “He united our fans during the memorable Fernandomania season of 1981 and will always hold a special place in our hearts, both as a player and as a broadcaster. His departure has come far too soon.”
Despite never making it into the Baseball Hall of Fame, Valenzuela’s legacy holds equal weight to that of Sandy Koufax in Dodgers history.
Enter Dodger Stadium today, and you’ll notice more Valenzuela No. 34 jerseys than Koufax jerseys. The crowd would erupt with cheers when he appeared on the videoboard during Dodgers games as part of their Spanish-language broadcast team, with fans chanting his name passionately.
Fernando shaped the Dodgers into who they are today, leaving an indelible mark visible throughout Dodger Stadium with its diverse audience and vibrant Latino presence.
Ever humble, Valenzuela spoke of himself only when prompted, never requiring validation for his enormous talent.
He was just Fernando, and he remained true to that essence.
It’s been 43 years since Valenzuela led the Dodgers to the ’81 World Series, and his legacy will be felt throughout this series. The Dodgers will honor him in this World Series, wearing commemorative patches on their uniforms and observing a moment of silence on Friday. Stories and memories will be shared for generations to come.
Fernando would have been shy about the attention, just as he had been about his illness, preferring not to be the center of focus.
He arrived in this country simply known as Fernando, departed as Fernando, and his innocent spirit will forever be a cherished part of Los Angeles lore.
Anyone who witnessed him pitch knows it was a privilege.
But more than that, it was a greater honor to have known him.
What a legend.
What an incredible human being.
