Like everyone else in the baseball family, I awoke this morning to the tragic news that Miami Marlins phenom Jose Fernandez is dead at the age of 24 after a boating accident. Words cannot begin to fully describe the impact his death has already had on millions of people but I hope you will forgive a few brief thoughts as I speak directly from the heart.
Credit: Steve Mitchell, USA TODAY Sports
At first, it seemed in bad taste to say anything at all, I never met Jose. But the outpouring of grief I have seen on various social media platforms this morning led me to realize that it’s OK that this feels so personal because — though almost none of us who feel this way ever got a chance to even see him in person — this feels personal to everyone. So I began to ask myself why. Like so many great artists who have passed away recently, for me Robin Williams and David Bowie were particularly tough, Fernandez left an indelible mark on pretty much everyone who saw him work his artistry.
But the most salient detail captured in every shared picture, gif, tweet, and story, is that Jose Fernandez was filled to the brim with unbridled, palpable, and contagious joy. On the field and off of it, he was synonymous with smiling.
His death is a bitter and harsh reminder that professional athletes are human beings just like the rest of us and not statistics on a spreadsheet or characters on a television screen like the ones that populate our favorite comedies and dramas. Not something to be detached from, someone to become attached to.
Many Rockies fans find themselves latching onto a few standout moments this morning. The first was a screaming line drive that Fernandez caught off the bat of Troy Tulowitzki after which Tulo stood stunned, looked right at the pitcher and asked, “Did you catch that?” With his signature smile, he replied without missing a beat, “Yes. Yes I did!”
But one that sticks out to me was a home run he allowed to Carlos Gonzalez on Opening Day 2014 because instead of throwing things in anger that his immaculate performance that evening now had a smudge on it, he turned and admired the work of a fellow artist. Even in the face of his own failure, he found joy in another’s success as he boisterously congratulated CarGo while he rounded the bases.
In a world with so much hate and anger, the latter of which is often justified, Jose Fernandez’ life stood as an example of choosing joy.
Sports are supposed to be fun. Watching, playing and writing about sports should be an act of joy. Somewhere along the line, we decided that screaming at each other over silly games should be the standard operating procedure. At some point, we decided that when limited to 140 characters, we ought to use that outlet to express cynicism or disrespect our fellow man from a safe distance. And it is a choice. Instead, we should be using the 1,000-word-smile of Fernandez and not a character limit to represent our sports.
Credit: Robert Mayer, USA TODAY Sports
I’ve seen a handful of comments today expressing the desire to feel the kind of passion that emanated from Jose every day. “I wish I felt that way about anything,” some will say. But therein lies the lesson of a life cut so tragically short … you can. Forget entirely for a moment about what Jose Fernandez did and remember how he did it. We can all bring to our families, friends, co-workers and classmates a little more joy, a little more laughter, a little more love.
There are real problems in the world that deserve serious and passionate debate and Jose Fernandez proves that you can stand and fight and never give up and never give in while still making the daily lives of everyone around you more filled with joy. He was not just a beacon of light, he was one of its greatest ambassadors. You honor fallen musicians by listening to their albums, actors by watching their films. Very few of us can throw a 98 mph fastball, and we should absolutely pour through game film and statistics and personal stories and accounts of his amazing journey. But the best way we can honor Jose Fernandez is by emulating his ability to make whatever room we walk into a more joyful place to be.
Gandhi said, “Be the change you wish to see in the world.” Jose Fernandez said, through his actions, “be the light.”
Credit: Steve Mitchell, USA TODAY Sports
