On Fernandomania
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A few weeks backs the Los Angeles Dodgers honoured Fernando Valenzuela. The July 20th ceremony wasn’t the moment in which the franchise broke with tradition - Valenzuela is now part of what the Dodgers call the “Legends of Dodger Baseball” but no mention was made of retiring the number 34 with which he is so closely associated. As “El Toro” is not (and never will be) a member of the Hall of Fame in Cooperstown, officially the Dodgers have not retired his number from circulation. However, no “Doyer” has worn the 34 since 1991 when Fernando moved down to Orange County and what were then the California Angels.
It would be hard to overstate the historical importance that Fernando had for the the Los Angeles franchise. In short: the relationship between the Dodgers and Los Angeles’ Mexican and Mexican-American population had never really recovered from the initial conflict that arose as a result of the seizure of Chavez Ravine. The Dodgers of the 1970s, filled with guys with names like Steve and Ron and Burt and Bill, didn’t reflect the city they played in. But with Fernando, a 20-year old kid who embodied the dream of every immigrant who comes to the United States, Chicanos and Mexicans in Los Angeles were able to identify with not merely a player on the team but the best player on the team. His arrival created the phenomenon known as “Fernandomania” and ever since the Dodgers have been the team that is most closely associated with the Mexican community in both California and Mexico.
Right now the Padres, a supposed rival of the Dodgers, have their own Fernando. In some ways, the two Fernandos couldn’t be more different. Valenzuela came out of Etchohuaquila, a place so small that the word village probably doesn’t adequately describe it, while the young Fernando Tatís Jr. is the son of a former big leaguer and was born in San Pedro de Macorís, one of baseball’s epicentres. El Toro was a chubby pitcher, El Niño is an athletic shortstop. When he arrived in Los Angeles Valenzuela’s English was so bad that his own manager made fun of him about it. Tatís Jr. is basically a native bilingual. Despite these differences, however, there exist notable similarities between the two: just like the Fernando who preceded him, Fernando Tatís Jr. was 20 years old when he debuted in the bigs. The two Fernandos shone almost immediately. Valenzuela won the Rookie of the Year award and it would be a farce if Tatís Jr. doesn’t win it.
What most unites the two, however, is something else entirely: right now in San Diego, at least amongst the city’s baseball fans, Fernandomania exists. Something like this was badly needed. San Diego sports had always been dominated by the Chargers and, even if the continual will-they-won’t-they drama before their eventual departure had fed up a lot of fans, they left a big hole. Throughout the constant back and forth the Padres, displaying almost criminal negligence, failed to take advantage of the Chargers chaos and insert themselves into the city’s sporting conscience. With few star players and rare moments of glory the word which best described the organisation during this period would have been “mediocre.” I don’t think I’m exaggerating when I say that, from the fan’s point of view, the last decade has been amongst the most difficult in the team’s history. This was primarily because we, the fanbase, could recognise the opportunity that the team itself seemed to be letting slip through its fingers.
It’s worth clarifying that the situation that the Dodgers found themselves in before Valenzuela’s arrival and the situation the Padres found themselves in this year were different. The Dodgers had (from the moment they arrived in Los Angeles) the one thing the Padres most desire - a tradition of success and winning. However, in the same way Fernando Valenzuela changed forever the relationship between the Dodgers and the Mexican people, it’s possible that the kid standing at shortstop in Petco Park might mark a before and after for the Padres. It’s possible that Fernando Tatís Jr. represents not just the dawn of a new period in the franchise’s trajectory but the creation of an entirely new identity.
Lots of people want the Dodgers to retire Valenzuela’s number despite the fact that El Toro doesn’t “qualify” for the honour according the team’s policy - official or otherwise - of only retiring the numbers of Hall of Fame players. From my perspective retiring his number wouldn’t be a sufficient recognition of what Fernando Valenzuela did for the Dodgers, because his effect was felt much more off the field than on it. Fernandomania version 1.0 was much more for the Dodgers than mere athletic accomplishments. The question I have is: will Fernandomania version 2.0 be the same for the Padres?