The One and Only Fernando Valenzuela

He was a humble man from humble origins. He became MLB's greatest sensation.

When the World Series begins in Dodger Stadium Friday night, the traditional bunting will be hung along the façade of the club level seats on the right-field line. Opposite it, on the left-field line, will be the circular facsimiles of the club’s 10 retired numbers. It’s there that you will see the newest of the numbers, 34, placed in between Sandy Koufax’s 32 and Roy Campanella’s 39.

No. 34 belonged to Fernando Valenzuela, a chubby, 20-year-old pitcher who came out of rural Mexico in 1981, a mop-haired kid with an inimitable windup, a moon-shaped face and perhaps the greatest screwball since Carl Hubbell. Valenzuela, who died Tuesday in Los Angeles at the age of 63, did not descend on Major League Baseball as much as dominate it. There has never been a rookie season quite like it, his first eight starts resulting in eight victories, five shutouts, an 0.50 ERA and a frenzy in L.A., Mexico, and much of Latin America, that became known as “Fernandomania.”

 Valenzuela himself was inscrutable, low-key and humble. It was everyone else who was going berserk, his every start becoming a must-see event for Mexicans and Americans alike, his name and likeness so ubiquitous on jerseys, tee shirts and merchandise that you would’ve thought you were in Mexico City, not Chavez Ravine.  ‘Viva Fernando” signs took over the bleachers. Sports Illustrated put him on the cover, beneath the headline, “UNREAL!” Kellogg’s put him on a box of Corn Flakes. President Ronald Reagan invited him to a White House honoring Jose Lopez Portillo, the president of Mexico.

“Fernandomania bordered on a religious experience,” legendary Dodger announcer Vin Scully once said. “Fernando being Mexican, coming from nowhere, it was as though Mexicans grabbed onto him with both hands to ride to the moon.”

Valenzuela wasn’t the first Hispanic hurler with a unique windup – see Juan Marichal and Luis Tiant – but it was still all his own, bringing his arms overhead, his right leg up high and then tilting back his head and looking skyward, as if he were seeking divine inspiration. None of that would’ve mattered, of course, if he couldn’t get batters out.

Valenzuela made his big-league debut the year before and did well, pitching 17 2/3 scoreless innings out of the bullpen. Jerry Reuss was scheduled to start the Dodger opener in 1981, but he strained a calf muscle running in the outfield before the game. The No. 2 starter, Burt Hooton, had an ingrown toenail. Manager Tommy Lasorda asked Valenzuela if he could go. Valenzuela, who spoke no English then, thought he was joking. More than 50,000 fans saw Valenzuela pitch a 2-0 shutout in his first big-league start. He was the youngest opening-day starter since Catfish Hunter broke in with the A’s 15 years before.

“I hope he comes back down to earth. Or they find a higher league for him.” said the Astros’ Don Sutton, the former Dodger great and Hall of Famer whose number 20 is also retired.

Dodgers second baseman Davey Lopes said, “We don’t know what’s going on with him. All he does is smile. All we know is the bottom line. The kid hasn’t given up a run in the big leagues.”

Five days later, Valenzuela manhandled the Giants, striking out 10 in a 7-1 victory, and then he threw three more complete game shutouts in succession. Fernandomania was now a full-blown rage. He started the All-Star game for the National League, finishing the strike-shortened season with a record of 13-7 and a 2.48 ERA. Valenzuela, who could also hit (he had 10 homers and batted .200 over his 17-year career), became the first player to win the Cy Young Award and Rookie of the Year in the same season.

After winning two games in the NLDS and NLCS, Valenzuela got the ball from Lasorda for the biggest game of the Dodger season. The Yankees had won the first two games of the Series, seemingly intent on crushing the Dodgers’ title hopes for the third time in five years. Valenzuela was far from his best that night, giving up nine hits and seven walks, but still went the distance in a 5-4 Dodger victory, throwing 146 pitches. The Yankees would not win another game. The Dodgers had their first championship in 16 years. It never would’ve happened without the rotund rookie from Navojoa in the state of Sonora, 925 miles southeast of L.A.

“I’ve often said that “Fernandomania,” beginning on opening night right through the World Series, was the most exciting time in our lives,” Peter O’Malley, Dodgers’ president, once said.

Valenzuela spent 11 seasons with the Dodgers, before making stops in Anaheim, Baltimore, San Diego, Philadelphia. He retired in 1997 as a Cardinal and went on to become a popular Dodger broadcaster on the club’s Spanish telecasts, partnering with Hall of Famer, Jaime Jarrin, who served as Valenzuela’s interpreter in his rookie season.

Thirty-four years after No. 34 departed the Dodgers, Valenzuela will be celebrated anew when 2024 Series opens in Los Angeles Friday night.

 “Fernando’s legacy, his impact, is going to last forever,” manager Dave Roberts said. “It’s lasted such a long time, not only for the Dodgers but all of Major League Baseball. He’s been an inspiration for many people. Just to be able to break barriers and to be so humble while doing it.”