Centerfield, John Fogerty

John Fogerty, Centerfield, and the Unmatched Joy of Baseball

There’s something magical about baseball. As the chill of winter fades, the smell of fresh-cut grass signals its return. Unlike the intensity and aggression of football, where players battle under helmets and shoulder pads, celebrating their opponent's misery, baseball is a sport of openness and camaraderie. It’s played under the warm sun, with smiling faces visible and spirits high.

Growing up in Mexico, where futbol (soccer) is almost a religion, I was different. While soccer can be thrilling at times, particularly every four years during the World Cup, it's fast pace and physical contact never captured me like baseball did. The lack of contact, strategic elegance, and quiet suspense moments make baseball unique.

Baseball celebrates spring, a season that brings renewal and a fresh start. Its pace allows you to discuss the previous play, strategize the next, reminisce about past seasons, and celebrate an unanticipated strategic play. Growing up, I spent countless hours on the diamond, dreaming of making big plays and pretending to be my hero, Fernando Valenzuela*, the first Mexican to make it big in the big leagues. As an adult, baseball remains the only sport that genuinely captures my attention.

This love for the game is perfectly encapsulated in John Fogerty’s classic hit "Centerfield." With its upbeat tempo and enthusiastic lyrics, the song captures the joy and anticipation of stepping onto the field, ready to give it your all. It's a reminder of why baseball stands apart from other sports—it's about joy, community, and the endless possibilities each new game brings.

John Fogerty, the legendary singer-songwriter and frontman of Creedence Clearwater Revival (CCR), has left an indelible mark on rock music. Creedence was at its peak, almost as famous as The Beatles and their legacy is vast. John is known for his distinctive voice and evocative storytelling, He wrote some of the most enduring songs of the late '60s and early '70s, including "Bad Moon Rising," "Fortunate Son," and "Proud Mary," songs that are still relevant today as much as they were 50- years ago. After CCR disbanded, Fogerty embarked on a successful solo career, and in 1985, he released the album "Centerfield." 

"Centerfield" was a triumphant return for Fogerty after a nearly decade-long hiatus from recording new music. The album's title track quickly became an anthem for baseball fans, with its catchy chorus and infectious energy celebrating the spirit of America's pastime. Beyond the title track, the album featured other notable songs such as "The Old Man Down the Road" and "Rock and Roll Girls," showcasing Fogerty's ability to craft memorable rock tunes that resonate with listeners.

Decades after its release, "Centerfield" still resonates with new generations of baseball fans and music lovers, proving the enduring power of Fogerty's songwriting. Its celebration of the sport's nuances and its uplifting, feel-good energy make it a timeless classic that continues to unite fans of music and baseball.

Baseball, in its simplicity and elegance, stands as the king of sports. It embodies the spirit of renewal and the promise of spring, bringing people together under the open sky to share moments of strategy, anticipation, and joy. Fogerty’s legacy, both with Creedence Clearwater Revival and as a solo artist, is a testament to his ability to inspire generations. 

Recently, on Saturday, August 2, 2024, I had the incredible opportunity to see John Fogerty perform in concert, something I had always dreamed of doing. 

My story with Fernando Valenzuela

Fernando Valenzuela was a Mexican Major League Baseball pitcher who played primarily for the Los Angeles Dodgers. Known for his "Fernandomania" phenomenon in the early 1980s, he won the National League Rookie of the Year and Cy Young Award in 1981. Valenzuela's unique delivery, charisma, and exceptional skill captivated fans, making him a cultural icon. He was a national hero, an icon who made it big in the major leagues, and he was my hero.

One summer, fueled by admiration and a child's hopeful spirit, I wrote Fernando a letter. In my best handwriting, I told him how much he meant to me, how I dreamed of pitching like him, and how I cheered for every game he played. I carefully folded the letter, placed it in an envelope, and sent it off, not expecting a reply but feeling proud of reaching out to my idol.

Weeks passed, and I almost forgot about the letter, busying myself with school and playing ball with my friends. Then, one day, a letter arrived. It had my name, and the return address was from Los Angeles. My heart raced as I tore it open. Inside was a handwritten signature from Fernando Valenzuela himself on the roster from the Dodgers.

I couldn't believe it. There, in my hands, was a personal response from the legend himself. It felt surreal. In a city where baseball took a backseat to soccer, I felt seen and valued by my hero. That simple act of kindness from Fernando made me the happiest kid in the world. I proudly showed off the letter and signed roster to everyone I knew, treasuring them as my most prized possessions.

That experience taught me the power of reaching out and the impact that small gestures of kindness can have. It deepened my love for baseball and strengthened my admiration for Fernando Valenzuela.