Fernando Valenzuela, the Mexican southpaw who became an icon in Los Angeles during his rookie season with the Los Angeles Dodgers and remained a vibrant part of the franchise’s fabric for the next four decades, died Tuesday, the Dodgers confirmed. He was 63.
Valenzuela recently stepped away from his job as the Dodgers’ longtime Spanish broadcaster in order to “focus on his health.”
The Los Angeles Dodgers mourn the passing of legendary pitcher Fernando Valenzuela. pic.twitter.com/MXeBlDzDWJ
— Los Angeles Dodgers (@Dodgers) October 23, 2024
“Fernando Valenzuela was one of the most impactful players of his generation,” MLB commissioner Rob Manfred said in a statement Tuesday night. “With his distinctive pitching style, the Dodger left-hander’s rookie season generated so much excitement in the U.S. and his native Mexico that it became commonly referred to as ‘Fernandomania.’ His 1981 season ranks among the most decorated pitching years of all-time as Fernando was the National League Rookie of the Year, the NL Cy Young Award winner, a Silver Slugger and a World Series Champion.
“Following his memorable career, Fernando was an outstanding ambassador for baseball. He consistently supported the growth of the game through the World Baseball Classic and at MLB events across his home country. As a member of the Dodger broadcasting team for more than 20 years, Fernando helped to reach a new generation of fans and cultivate their love of the game. Fernando will always remain a beloved figure in Dodger history and a special source of pride for the millions of Latino fans he inspired.
“We will honor Fernando’s memory during the 2024 World Series at Dodger Stadium. On behalf of Major League Baseball, I extend my deepest condolences to Fernando’s family, the Dodgers, his friends across the game and all the loyal baseball fans of Mexico.”
The phenomenon known as “Fernandomania” took place in the summer of 1981, a season in which he won the National League Cy Young award and the Rookie of the Year award while helping the Dodgers win the World Series.
From the San Gabriel Valley to the South Bay, he was a household name before he turned 21, a player credited with surges in attendance from the Latino community in Los Angeles. He spent 11 of his 17 big-league seasons as a Dodger, making six All-Star teams and on three occasions finishing in the top five in Cy Young voting.
In retirement, Valenzuela joined the Hall of Fame broadcaster Jaime Jarrín as part of the team’s Spanish-language broadcast.
In 2023, the Dodgers recognized Valenzuela’s indelible place within franchise lore by altering a club policy in his honor: Valenzuela became the first Dodger to see his number retired without reaching the Hall of Fame. Before the ceremony in August 2023, as his No. 34 took its place at Dodger Stadium in between Sandy Koufax’s No. 32 and Roy Campanella’s No. 39, Valenzuela pronounced himself shocked.
“It never crossed my mind that this would ever happen,” Valenzuela said. “Like being in the World Series my rookie year, I never thought that would happen.”
Part of Valenzuela’s charm, for Dodgers fans, was how he emerged, fully formed, as a young man capable of dominating all those around him. He was born in Navojoa, on Mexico’s western coast, and grew up in a small town called Etchohuaquila. His parents were farmers. Mike Brito, the scout who signed him out of Mexico, once told Sports Illustrated that the family’s stead was “about half the size of the Dodger Stadium infield, about from shortstop to home plate.” Fernando worked the land when he wasn’t playing baseball.
Valenzuela turned pro while still in high school. Brito found him by accident, as the story went, around Easter in 1978. In Mexico to scout a shortstop, he became captivated by the starting pitcher for the other team. The Dodgers signed him a year later. By the fall of 1980, Valenzuela was pitching in the big-league bullpen.
It was his next season when he became a sensation. He was aesthetically pleasing, tilting his head toward the sky before releasing each pitch and he was remarkably effective. In a strike-shortened season, Valenzuela posted eight shutouts, more than any pitcher in the National League. He finished 11 of the 25 games he started. No National Leaguer struck out more batters than Valenzuela, and no pitcher offered a better show. His appearances became events, with ABBA’s “Fernando” the soundtrack to his successes. His performances invited Latino fans into the ballpark and opened the eyes of teams to the value of players living outside the United States.
“The impact he made not only in Southern California but in all of the country, it was really great for the game,” former MLB commissioner Bud Selig told the Los Angeles Times in 2011.
Valenzuela remained a rugged, effective pitcher for most of the decade. His salary surpassed the $1 million mark, a rarity in that era. He earned his keep. They called him “El Toro.” When he took the baseball, he did not like to relinquish it. Valenzuela led the NL in complete games again in 1986 and 1987. By 1988, as Orel Hershiser, Kirk Gibson and the Stunt Men were stunning opponents en route to another championship, Valenzuela was sidelined with an injured shoulder. He continued to take the baseball in subsequent years, even throwing a no-hitter in 1990, but the Dodgers still cut him loose before the 1991 season began.
Valenzuela bounced from the Angels to the Tigers to the Orioles to the Phillies to the Padres and finally to the Cardinals. He pitched his final game on July 14, 1997.
He kept the Dodgers at arm’s length before joining the broadcast crew in 2003. In the two decades since he first arrived on the scene, his legend had only grown.
After Valenzuela left the Dodgers in 1990, his No. 34 jersey went unclaimed in perpetuity. But it was still not officially retired until last year. The ceremony demonstrated Valenzuela’s importance to the franchise, how his contributions extended beyond that one summer, beyond his admirable decade on the field.
As Hershiser noted over the Dodger Stadium P.A. system during a postgame drone show after the retirement of Valenzuela’s jersey: “The day you came, everything changed.”
(Top photo of Fernando Valenzuela in 1981: Ron Vesely / Getty Images)
