My love for baseball started off at the young age of four when my father had introduced me to the sport. I enjoyed the game that made me smile as much as I loved to smile – it has become a game that is undeniably the most enjoyable thing that I have done in the last 21 years of my life. That is why, on Sunday morning when I was awaken by a phone call from an old friend of mine to find out that Miami Marlins pitcher, Jose Fernandez had passed away in a boating accident – I was crushed.

I remember first learning about Fernandez when I was 15 years old. I picked up a magazine in my journalism class (foreshadowing to my career, huh?) and read about this senior high-schooler that threw 98 mph fastballs and hit homeruns 400+ feet. A Cuban defector who tried four times to get to America by raft, who tried to save a woman who had fallen off one of said rafts… the woman? His mother. Jose Fernandez was starting to live the American dream.

Over the next six years I had kept a close eye on Fernandez, who they called ‘Niño’, the kid who shot up the minor league ranks. I remember watching his major league debut against the New York Mets (my favorite team) and just being shocked at his electrifying talent. Over his next three years in the league, I grew to love his delivery, poise, repertoire, and makeup, but the thing I found most delightful was how he loved the game.

The love that this guy had for his teammates and the game of baseball, on the field or off, was insatiable — it was infectious. He was a player who was not only loved by his teammates, but by all people of baseball. The way he carried himself through the sport was something that I had heard people tell me I did: a kid that just loved the atmosphere, understanding baseball for the romantic sport that it is. It’s hard for me not to be happy on a field, where I feel the most normal.

That’s why with tears in my eyes and a lump in my throat that I have to write these words. That Jose Fernandez has passed away at 24, and that he leaves behind an unborn child, and questions for all of us to patch together. The phenom was on his way to a $200 million dollar contract and a nice plaque in Cooperstown. But his loss is bigger than baseball, his loss is a loss for everyone. In 2016 we’re surrounded by so many negatives in the social media world, in our political world, even in our sports we squeeze fraudulence to its limit. Fernandez was so much different than that; he brought out every ounce of energy, passion, and joy out of himself, his teammates, coaches, and for god’s sake, he even made the stoic Barry Bonds smile all the time.

Being from South Florida, the loss of Jose Fernandez is a huge blow not only to the sports community, but the Latin American community that surrounds the city he pitched in. In a sports city known for their low attendance, fans from all over the city would flock to the ballpark when he was on the mound, lovingly calling it “Jose Day”. “Jose Day” was one day where Marlins fans didn’t feel betrayed by ownership, and the two time all star felt the same way. At a press conference after a dominating start in Miami this past summer, Fernandez said, “It’s obvious I love to pitch in Miami.”

So Jose, I say my farewell, I give you my gratitude for your years of service, and your love for the game. Thank you, for the flair and excitement, something I’ll share with my friends and young ones one day.

JDF16 forever.