At around 3:12 A.M. yesterday morning, the world found out it lost one of its brightest athletes. Jose Fernandez, a star all-star pitcher for the Miami Marlins, was found dead on the scene of a boat crash at the entrance of the Miami Harbor. The world reacted with widespread grief, and many still find themselves trying to wrap their heads around the situation. It is without any doubt that Fernandez will be remembered as a legend, on the diamond, and off.

Forget about the historic rookie campaign that saw him finishing with an astonishingly low 2.19 earned run average. Forget about the way he seemingly mowed down opposing batter after opposing batter. Forget about all those things that made him a technically fantastic baseball player. Instead, I urge you, to remember the captivating personal side, and, story of Mr. Fernandez. In 2008, Fernandez was attempting to make his fourth attempt to flee his home country of Cuba to the United States. This got him in trouble with the law, as he had been jailed before for trying to escape. Nevertheless, it was on this trip, that Jose had been told that someone had fallen off the boat. Within a second, Jose was in the water in an attempt to rescue the unknown person. Once he had saved the person, he realized it was his mother. At just the tender age of 15, Fernandez had already experienced a lifetime of struggles.

Those struggles never seemed to stop him from enjoying his life in the United States. Jose played with an energy and fiery passion that was unlike anything I have ever had the pleasure of watching. His own manager, Don Mattingly, tearfully remembered the joy that Fernandez played with, likening it to a little league ball player. “When he pitched … you just see that little kid that you see when you watch kids play Little League or something like that,” Mattingly remarked. Players, managers, and executives around the league echoed Mattingly’s statements.

Some, when remembering the tragically short career of Fernandez, will choose to think of the mind boggling statistics. However, for this writer, it won’t be the earned run averages or the strikeouts that I think of when Fernandez comes to mind. I will choose, instead, to remember Fernandez throughout the series of unforgettable memories that happened throughout his far too short career. I will think of the tears that were brought to my eyes when I watched his grandmother see him pitch in the MLB for the first time. I will think of the enthusiasm, not only when he was pitching, but when his teammates did well. There was one time when Giancarlo Stanton absolutely destroyed a pitch, but, the camera chose to focus on Fernandez, who went off the walls crazy in excitement. That will forever be ingrained in my mind.

Watching Fernandez was an event, an event in the same way that millions tuned into see Muhammad Ali, even if they had not cared a single lick about boxing before. There was a certain aura around a Jose Fernandez start. Those days weren’t so much Miami Marlins games, they were Jose Fernandez games. The excitement of those evenings (or days) were palpable. It seemed that before any pitch, the fans held their collective breaths, waiting for the payoff. When that wind-up started, conversations seemingly stopped. All eyes were on Jose. In a day and age where players are campaigning to “make baseball fun again”, the loss of Jose Fernandez cuts so much deeper. A universally beloved player, Fernandez inspired people of all ages, with his frenetic energy and absolute love for the game. He brought back a certain spark to a game that had been recently devoid of it. He made little kids want to pick up that glove and compete. He truly did make baseball great again. It is without a doubt that the baseball community, and the world, has lost not only a baseball legend, but a legendary person.