Don’t Just Honor José, Tell Your Kids About Him
Just another award? José Fernández was too dynamic for that.
José Fernández passed away in a tragic boating accident off the coast of Florida early Sunday morning two days before his next scheduled start in his Cy Young-worthy 2016 campaign. His body taken by the sea he once saved his own mother from when she fell overboard during their fourth, and ultimately successful, defection attempt from Cuba as a 15-year-old; the failed attempts resulted in prison terms. Before there were was ever an idea to wall off the U.S. from Latin America, a violent body of water serving as a dangerous barrier was a lifelong reality for the exuberant youngster whose family dreamed of reaching freer soil. A day later the waters returned a final memory of Fernández by washing to shore a pouch of baseballs bearing his name.
Fernández was only 24. A young player who was gifted with the kind of talent who comes along once in a few generations; he became the National League’s Rookie of the Year two seasons after being drafted. He was a favorite to win the Cy Young this season — he still leads all NL pitchers in Baseball Prospectus’ pitcher wins above replacement statistic, pWARP. He commanded an overwhelming high-90s fastball with precision.
He defied physics with his breaking stuff.
Fernández GIFs are a cottage industry and they’re not limited to the nastiness of his pitches. His enthusiasm for the game was unmatched; his personality was so irresistible it had its own gravity — maybe it’s why his stuff moved so much.
Much of what the living recall about the deceased is hyperbole; everyone loved him, she had a smile that could light up a room, he was a wonderful coworker — with José it’s an understatement. He was young, telegenic, dynamic, and he made professional hitters look silly. Fernández made baseball fun and he was supposed to be around for a whole new generation of baseball fans to have fun with him. It’s no wonder why many are clamoring to honor him with an award to continue his memory.
Earlier this week ESPN’s Buster Olney led the charge for an official award in José Fernández’s name:
This is why the Baseball Writers’ Association — the owners of the Most Valuable Player Award, the Cy Young Award and the Rookie and Manager of the Year Awards — would be well-served to create an award to honor Fernandez and provide an annual remembrance.
The Jose Fernandez Award could be given to the young player who, in his first years in the big leagues, best exemplifies Fernandez’s spirit of joy and passion, in the way he plays and treats his peers and fans. Players in their first three years in the big leagues could be eligible. Jose Altuve would’ve been a great candidate for that sort of award in his first years in the big leagues, or Mookie Betts, or Francisco Lindor, the type of people who are young leaders, in the way that Fernandez was.
The sentiment is becoming a consensus. Chris Cwik of Yahoo Sports wrote:
That doesn’t mean baseball can’t figure out a way to properly honor Fernandez’s legacy.
That seems like a good place to start. Fernandez personified so much of what fans love about the game. While his numbers and performance will be remembered, Fernandez’s spirit and personality will be the defining aspect of his legacy.
A player like that deserves to live on forever. Major League Baseball can still make that happen.
There is no doubt Fernández deserves to live on forever; but is an award enough to serve that mission? Over time, awards take on the moniker of its namesake and the memory and meaning of the person fades into vernacular and hardware to become a proprietary eponym — the same phenomenon commercial enterprises experience when people use a trademark like Kleenex as common language in lieu of a generic term like tissue. Fernández was dynamic; the formalities of an award are static. There’s more to be gained through having Fernández’s energy living on forever, not just his memory.
Baseball has many problems, but despite exaggerated rumors of its death Maury Brown of Forbes recently gave MLB a clean bill of health. He pointed out “nine clubs had the №1 ranking across all TV networks in prime time” and last year he reported MLB hauled in ~$9.5 billion in revenue. Those facts notwithstanding, the game still suffers from a national perspective it’s dying/irrelevant — whether the the perspective is real or not — and its culture is too conservative and stodgy; worse, economically it’s inaccessible to a growing number of youth.
A week ago, in reaction to third-string Mariners catcher Steve Clevenger’s bigoted tweets about Colin Kaepernick and the Black Lives Matter movement, ESPN commentator Bomani Jones started a firestorm on social media:
Jones’ reaction triggered a backlash amongst baseball fans who have long suffered from “baseball is dying” narrative fatigue; nobody should know who Steve Clevenger is — outside of his mom — because he is barely rosterable. Jones’ reaction, while not baked in nuance, isn’t entirely wrong. Clevenger nakedly revealing his viewpoint on matters of race just confirms the suspicions of many that these kinds of beliefs are pervasive throughout baseball’s culture. But more troubling is how likely it is many people didn’t know who José Fernández was when the news broke. Twitter was littered with tweets by people who felt they needed to put his death into perspective for others.
Open ESPN’s list of 2016's most popular athletes and you’ll have to scroll to number 71 to see the first baseballer, Bryce Harper; certainly the methodology may be in question and Twitter is anecdotal, but none of these things help to diffuse the nagging perception many have of baseball’s status.
Bryce Harper will likely become one of the highest paid athletes in the world; he probably doesn’t buy into the “baseball is dying” narrative. He does, however, want to enjoy playing the game without being punished for it. When Fernández hit his first career home run he admired his own handywork:
The next time he dug into the batter’s box he was purposefully knocked down by a heater near his head — a possibly lethal or career-threatening action. Why? Baseball has unwritten rules: here in the states we act like we’ve been there before, kid! The benches cleared, but instead of charging the mound, Fernández played peacemaker and helped diffuse the out of control masculine meathead-ry.
Fernández embodied everything about the “Make Baseball Fun Again” campaign Harper launched this season. Harper admitted as much during his March ESPN the magazine interview with Tim Keown:
“Baseball’s tired,” he says. “It’s a tired sport, because you can’t express yourself. You can’t do what people in other sports do. I’m not saying baseball is, you know, boring or anything like that, but it’s the excitement of the young guys who are coming into the game now who have flair. If that’s Matt Harvey or Jacob deGrom or Manny Machado or Joc Pederson or Andrew McCutchen or Yasiel Puig — there’s so many guys in the game now who are so much fun.
“Jose Fernandez is a great example. Jose Fernandez will strike you out and stare you down into the dugout and pump his fist. And if you hit a homer and pimp it? He doesn’t care. Because you got him. That’s part of the game. It’s not the old feeling — hoorah … if you pimp a homer, I’m going to hit you right in the teeth. No. If a guy pimps a homer for a game-winning shot … I mean — sorry.”
In some real ways there are areas where baseball is dying; youth baseball has seen a decline in participation for years. The trend, however, is not unique to the diamond. Youth participation has been on the downswing across all of the major American sports. Ryan Wallerson reported the trend in the Wall Street Journal two years ago:
Combined participation in the four most-popular U.S. team sports — basketball, soccer, baseball and football — fell among boys and girls aged 6 through 17 by roughly 4% from 2008 to 2012, according to an examination of data from youth leagues, school-sports groups and industry associations.
The cause for declined participation in athletics isn’t certain, but the speculation is more entertainment options and activities are drawing away the kid who used to be fine with riding the pine while only getting reps in at practice — why play soccer when FIFA ’17 is so good? For baseball, though, this speculation may only be skin-deep.
“The biggest predictor of fan avidity as an adult is whether you played the game,” MLB commissioner Rob Manfred said last year. The barriers to playing the game are becoming more and more measurable. Where recreational baseball leagues used to thrive, they’re being siphoned off more and more by professionalized club travel baseball. The time commitments to club teams means kids are choosing to focus on a particular sport early like it’s a job and some kids can’t afford the time or the lifestyle. The Wall Street Journal’s Brian Costa reported in May of last year:
Ismael Gonzalez, who manages the Miami-based 9-and-under team MVP Juniors Elite, said his team travels throughout the Southeast, playing more than 100 games a year and practicing two or three days a week. “These kids work like machines,” he said. “This is not just for fun. This is their lifestyle.”
But the cost of that lifestyle — thousands of dollars a year in many cases — puts it out of reach for many parents. It skews heavily white: A 15-year study of travel teams by Nebraska researcher David Ogden found that only 3% of players are black. And its popularity has made baseball more of a niche sport, precisely what MLB wants to avoid at the spectator level.
José Fernandez’s success, biography, and spirit on and off the field is an opportunity to do more than just create an award. Kids who aren’t playing the game because of economic barriers might identify with Fernández, who overcame an ocean and poverty to find refuge on the diamond; communities of color who feel baseball has forgotten them may identify with him as well. He made baseball fun while playing it at an elite level. His spirit, had it been given time, should have transcended baseball and the community in Miami who adored him.
So instead of the José Fernández Award, how about the José D. Fernández Baseball Ambassadorship? Instead of baseball writers fretting about creating a pool of nominees, voting, holding a ceremony and shaking hands while wearing suits for a photo-op — to be forgotten before the next season — how about players of a predetermined criteria apply to represent Fernández? The award would come with a mission — a jet-setter who spreads Fernández’s spirit beyond baseball hotbeds and grows the game of baseball in his name throughout North and South America.
The ambassador could be the face of the new MLB-MLBPA Youth Development Foundation fundraising apparatus; the foundation is a joint effort between MLB and the player’s union with a mission “to enhance the quality of baseball and softball education, address overall youth participation in baseball and softball and help youth, including those from underserved communities, strengthen connections to the game”. The foundation aims to meet that mission with its RBI program (Reviving Baseball in Inner Cities) — Ken Griffey Jr. currently serves as its Youth Ambassador and current players Curtis Granderson, Félix Hernández, McCutchen, C.C. Sabathia and Mike Trout have made generous contributions in the foundation’s name to their hometowns. A program which complements RBI but with a wider scope and features a current star could serve as a way to continue Fernández’s spirit, grow the game, help more communities, and market MLB’s stars —you know, so people don’t have to explain who they are on Twitter. Oh, and maybe the player elected ambassador could carry around a sack of baseballs with Fernández’s name inscribed to hand out to kids; as it seems José did.
José Fernández had a daughter on the way; he planned to name her Penelope. She and a generation should have grown up with him — watching him play the game, celebrating with him, and receiving his smiles. He was destined to be a household name and an inspiration to many; rewriting baseball’s unwritten rules along the way. Some hardware and a handshake isn’t enough — trophies and plaques don’t smile, go nuts for a teammate, or jump into uncertain waters to save loved ones. A kid who crossed an ocean to freely play baseball deserves more than becoming a memory— MLB owes it to that kid and everyone like him who feel like baseball might be out of reach to do more for the game. If his name wasn’t recognized everywhere in life, let it be in death. Don’t just remember Jose, share his spirit with Penelope’s generation and the generations who follow.
