Yes, I really did.
I should start this by saying what anyone knows within 10 seconds of meeting me... I am a huge Mets fan. Like, super obsessive. Been to over 60 games this year alone. Caps, jerseys, jackets, baseball cards, bobbleheads. Even custom-made Mets Converse sneakers. I have it all.
If you've been paying attention to this amazin' team this year, you'd know they're in the mix of a playoff hunt. Well, they were. Fortunately, my squad locked up the first Wild Card berth and will continue on their postseason path. But rewind a week ago and that spot was very much in jeopardy. Although the Mets had been the hottest team in baseball for the past five weeks, you just never know what can happen in the last week of baseball, especially with gutty teams like the Giants & the Cardinals on our trail.
I was at Citi Field on Friday, September 23rd. Last regular season weekend at the palace in Flushing, Queens. Nothing like watching my boys beat up on the hapless Phillies after a long day of work. Glancing at the schedule ahead, I noticed something that made me happier than the end result of the game (spoiler alert: the Mets won 10-5). Our next series was on the road against the Miami Marlins. Definitely not an elite team but one of those pesky, average teams that can play above average at any moment. Sure, they had a solid line-up. Their big bat, Giancarlo Stanton, had returned and he joined other formidable hitters like Christian Yelich & Dee Gordon to round out a solid offensive core. But they're pitching? Straight trash, homey. A bunch of mediocre arms who were essentially the main reason Miami was no longer in the playoff race. That rotation had one exception, and it was a big one.
Jose Fernandez, the 24-year-old Cuban superstar, was the only arm that pumped fear in your heart. Not only was he easily the best pitcher on that staff, but at such a young age, he had established himself as one of the best pitchers in the league. Now, there are a handful of elite pitchers in the majors, but Jose stood out. What he brought to the table went beyond his talent. He brought a unique sense of entertainment and charisma rarely seen on the mound. Extremely competitive but always having fun with a smile. It's what parents dream of when they enroll their kids into sports. He personified the way you imagine the game should be played.
And how do I know all of this? Just so happens the Marlins were in the same division as the Mets. Unfortunately, I had seen that smile many times at the expense of my team. To make the torture even worse, I was at Miami in July of this year to watch the Mets play in Marlins Park and caught a Jose Fernandez start in person. Jose was a dominant pitcher in general, but in Miami? He was godly. In 272.1 innings, Jose was 29-2 with a 1.49 ERA. For those of you who don't understand baseball statistics, just know that those stats are FUCKING AMAZING. And the people of Miami knew this. I saw three games during my stay down south. The two that Jose didn't pitch? It was like I was at the library. The game that Jose pitched (and of course the one game we ultimately lost)? As much energy as I've ever seen in the usually non-energetic Marlins Park. The fans were not shy. They were coming out to support their hometown hero.
As a Mets fan, I'm used to having my heart ripped out. When things can't go our way, they usually don't. But the stars must've aligned this time. Because as I glanced at the upcoming schedule on this brisk summer night on September 23rd, I noticed we would not have to face Jose Fernandez. WE WOULD NOT HAVE TO FACE JOSE FERNANDEZ! THANK YOU JESUS! That's right... Jose was scheduled to pitch the day before against the Braves. But I couldn't care less about who he was facing, as long as it wasn't my Mets. Things were finally looking up.
Remember that thing I said about being a Mets fan and not having things go your way? Yeah... well... that shit happened again. Turns out the Marlins made the decision to postpone Jose's start until Monday, which just so happened to be the first game of the series against... you guessed it... the New York Mets. At Miami. Where he is unstoppable. I'm used to the baseball Gods teabagging me but this was just a different level of cruel. As optimistic as I am about my team, I had already mentally filed Monday's game into the loss column. The odds of us handing him only his third loss ever at home seemed highly unlikely.
I wake up on Sunday, September 25th, ready to attend the last regular season home game at Citi Field. As per my morning ritual, I check Instagram to see if y'all muthafuckas are liking my flicks. I follow several baseball accounts and noticed that someone had left a comment about Jose Fernandez dying. Yeah, OK. I am way too sharp to fall for one of those internet hoaxes where some random celebrity or athlete 'dies'. But let me check ESPN.com to confirm, you know, just to be on the safe side.
Damn.
It's been a week since Jose Fernandez tragically passed away and I have to admit, it's been bothering me more than I would have expected. It's sad when any young man loses his life, let alone one as talented as Jose. But the raw emotion from his teammates, his family, his fans and the rest of the league struck a chord with me, mostly because I could understand why they were so devastated by this loss. Yes, he was a two time All-Star and the 2013 Rookie of the Year, but he was so much more. The reasons I hated Jose... his competitiveness, his charisma, his smile... were the same reasons people loved him. Add in the well documented history of his past... attempting to defect from Cuba three times unsuccessfully... and you got an understanding of why he smiled so much while he played the game he loved. That smile... that PASSION... resonated with many people. Even me.
Maybe I don't hate Jose Fernandez after all.
Rest In Peace
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