On the evening of October 26, 2014, Yordano Ventura was already looking two days ahead. Sure, his team was about to play in a pivotal Game 5 of the 2014 World Series, but no one could blame the young Royals’ hurler for being anxious. After all, Game 6 of the series was going to prove to be the pinnacle of Ventura’s then young career. Having pitched in Game 2 of the series, and pitching well, Ventura was riding a wave of confidence before his pivotal start. He was making the biggest pitches of his career, on the biggest stage in the world. So, even with his team playing a crucial Game 5, with their series with the Giants knotted at two games apiece, no one could blame Ventura for thinking of Tuesday.
Yet, by the end of the night, Ventura could hardly be blamed if Game 5 and Game 6 had all but evaporated from his mind. During a game the Giants would ultimately win 5-0, to take a 3-2 series lead, Ventura’s long-time friend, Oscar Taveras, was tragically killed in a car accident. The news was quick to circulate throughout baseball, and the Royals clubhouse. It was impossible for Ventura, and the entire baseball fraternity, to escape.
Cardinals’ fans need no reminder of Taveras, or the tragic nature of his loss. While his talent was evident, Taveras also possessed the youthful spirit and personality of a club-favorite. His Dominican background made him easy friends with the latino players in the clubhouse, like his country-mate, Carlos Martinez. He exhibited a breezy, care-free style, that also translated to his games and at-bats. Simply put, Taveras was a star on the rise, and endless potential was unfolding in front of him. However, due to his own personal mistakes, and unfortunate conditions, Taveras’ bright future was diminished that night.
At a time when all of Cardinals’ nation was looking for answers, so too was, Ventura.
“It’s going to be hard to put [Taveras’ death] aside,” Ventura said before his Game 6 start, in 2014. “But I’m going to throw everything I have out there. I’m dedicating that game to him.”
For those that don’t remember, the performance that Ventura then put on in the World Series was nothing short of remarkable. Donning a cap with his lost friend’s initials and jersey number, Ventura proceeded to throw seven shutout innings, while surrendering a mere three hits to the Giants. He had put his heart on his sleeve, and answered the call of the moment with pure determination. It can certainly be argued that if the Royals would have won Game 7 (they would have to delay their World Series parade by a year, thanks to WS MVP Madison Bumgarner’s theatrics), Ventura could have easily won the MVP award for his Game 2 and 6 performances. Certainly, for this writer, watching Ventura perform with such conviction after Taveras’ passing was one of the proudest moments I’ve ever had for an opposing team.
So, in many ways, hearing about the untimely loss of Ventura on Sunday almost felt like we were losing Taveras all over again. At one time, perhaps that’s a selfish notion, an attempt to internalize the grief that Kansas City, the Dominican Republic, and Ventura’s family obviously feel ten-fold. Yet, when you consider just how similar the paths of Ventura and Taveras have been, it’s difficult to not feel a personal connection.
The two dominican upstarts featured in cities just over 200 miles from each other, in the same state. They each provided aforementioned heroics in the postseason; Ventura with his masterful World Series appearances in 2014 (with a championship the next year), and Taveras’ clutch home run in Game 2 of the NLCS, that same year. Both young players were fixtures as the future of, not only their team’s performance on the field, but the clubhouse, as well. Both with personalities equally up for the challenge that their talent presented.
Relationships, and more importantly friendships, are a huge part of a player’s ascension to Major League Baseball. Especially, it seems, latino players find the friendships they form with their countrymen to be even more crucial to their success. If you track the progress of Ventura and Taveras, you may find out that they actually didn’t have much of a history, until they made the trek from the Dominican, and started playing at the minor league levels. However, they were sure to make up for lost time, often spending time at one another’s apartments, mapping out their dreams of professional stardom. It’s not difficult to imagine them watching the other perform on TV, sitting their respective clubhouses, willing success onto their brother as much as they did for themselves.
In fact, to think about it now, perhaps that’s how we would like to remember them most. Two men, with darkly-similar paths, appreciating the other’s form, spirit, and youthfulness. Forever young in their own minds.
