Brainy Sports: Jose Fernandez – Forever Young

Legendary James Dean forever young

Another high-speed icon lost at age 24 (via Kate Gabrielle, Flickr)

The little lady put it to me this way, over the noise of the shower rinsing shampoo from my ever-thinning hair:

“Have you heard of Jose Fernandez, from the Miami team?”

You know where that’s going the second you hear it, and it’s not “…well he’s signing autographs in our living room.” And when she said the ‘how’, my first thought was of the spring training tragedy of similar circumstances that killed Steve Olin and Tim Crews in 1993. Florida. Boat hit something at high-speed in the dark.

And then I thought how in baseball, tragedy often takes the guys you need the most.

Fernandez was a living American Dream who at just fifteen years old defected from a Cuba still under the watchful, despotic eye of Fidel Castro. His harrowing Cuba-Mexico-USA journey, just to be a part of what we have here, included him saving his mother from drowning. The best part of that story is that he didn’t know at first that it was his mother he was saving. It makes one shake their fist that much harder at a cruel God that would take this man’s life on the water.

Perhaps ‘live fast, die young, and leave a good-looking corpse’ really only works for poster art, not those impacted by it.

For fantasy baseball junkies, his arrival in the bigs was something akin to the Beatles landing at LaGuardia Airport for the first time. His game was non-stop nasty: swinging strikes and 500 home run hitters realizing they hadn’t seen that kind of stuff yet. In 2014 every fantasy manager built their entire draft strategy around the kid, and many a season went down the tubes when an early May trip to the DL for a strained elbow quickly turned into Tommy John surgery.

And while TJ surgery has improved as the new century has unfolded, there weren’t a lot of folks predicting that Fernandez would transition from rookie phenom to dominant ace the instant that he took the mound again. His 2016 season had put him in the running for his first Cy Young. Either way there was nothing to tell us he wouldn’t pick up two or three along the road to Cooperstown.

I re-watched the video of his (infamous) first career home run from late 2013. The one where Fernandez looked at it a little too long and then spit on the ground next to Chris Johnson as he passed the Braves third baseman. Everything except the spittle was grounds for giving him a pass. As a more thorough analysis of the exchange shows, Brian McCann’s words for Fernandez appeared to mostly be…let’s call it ‘unwanted advice.’ Johnson’s reaction comes off as a bit hillbilly-ish, but all must’ve forgotten by 2016 as they were both Marlins this year. Johnson’s also hitting .219 in 2016, so maybe his interpretation of humility was rooted in knowing that his cup of coffee in The Show would end sooner than the fireballer’s.

But Fernandez had matured since then without losing his youthful zeal. In watching the interviews with Don Mattingly just hours after Fernandez’s death, it appears that something of a personal hero has been lost for the Marlins skipper, himself a baseball icon of the highest order. Fernandez had matured more than he even had to and become a leader of a franchise that performed well beyond expectations this year.

As a Cuban expat slinging horsehide in the world capital of Cuban expats, he was every inch the New American Dream and a borderline perfect idol for the countless South Floridians with names ending in ‘ez’. And from a strictly bottom-line perspective, MLB is losing a huge asset. In a region where you can play outdoor sports all year, there are a lot of pre-pubescent wunderkinds looking for a compelling reason to take the mound as opposed to lining up as a slot receiver. That perfect icon is no more.

Perhaps ‘live fast, die young, and leave a good-looking corpse’ really only works for poster art, not those impacted by it. That meaningless motto is generally attributed to another 24 year old that went out on top living his life at high speed. And while Jose Fernandez might never have the pop culture overload legacy that James Dean had, he will be Forever Young.

Forever Young

Forever Young



Five years ago yesterday I checked the #1 thing off my (youthful) bucket list when I visited the Buddy Holly plane crash site. Enough footage was shot to compile a video telling the story of the day and finding the crash site. Take your own tour of that hallowed ground below, with music provided by the Brian Keenan Band:


The Crash…

The crash was of course made infamous by Don McLean in “American Pie”, and stands as a symbol of lost youth and the first sign that the golden post-war era of unabated optimism was coming to a close. Whether or not rock ‘n’ roll “died” is up for debate. But Buddy was only 22 when he was killed in a plane crash near this small Iowa farm city, and an incredible void was left in the genre of rock that generally went eternally unfulfilled.

Our video starts out in Clear Lake proper, and we make our way through town to the Surf Ballroom where Buddy wielded his Fender Strat for the last time. We then crisscross Iowa farmland on hardened gravel roads, numbered but not named, until we get to the muddy path leading to the crash site.


Loss. A palpable sensation of loss hammered me to the bone on this very personal journey. It was like any other cornfield in the midwest except that here occurred a great American tragedy. There was no sound at the crash site except for the faint humming of the silos across the field, and a cold midwestern wind saying ‘winter’. Loss. The sun shone on us everywhere else that day except at the crash site. Loss.

Looking back, one would wonder why Buddy would have died in such a remote corner of the world. One was a statement on rock ‘n’ roll as a whole at the time; it just wasn’t that mainstream. The other reason had to do directly with Buddy.


He had moved to New York in late 1958 and despite having recorded an orchestral solo session for Coral Records, he was running short on finances. He had not been fully compensated for his earlier work with the Crickets, and so to make rent, he was forced to go back on the road.

The Winter Dance Party Tour commenced with Buddy headlining at George Devine’s Ballroom in Milwaukee, Wisconsin on 23 January 1959. The fellas played a show every single night up to February 2nd, when they played their final show at the Surf in Clear Lake. Rock ‘n’ roll was not for the weak in 1959.

The sky was made for the stars.

The Surf is still an active venue, and the crash site is open to the public and maintained in a very appropriate manner. It’s off the beaten path and marked in a very sublime, reverent way, but anyone of dogged persistence can find their way to this somber locale with relative ease.

The picture at the opening (and below) is by Lewis Allen of a somber-looking Buddy about to disembark the Crickets’ tour bus for a show at the Auditorium Theatre, Rochester, New York, 19 January 1958.

My thanks to Kari E. Newton for her contributions to this video.

Lewis Allen photo

Lewis Allen photo