Valenzuela, Dodgers: It’s All in the Family

Just as the Dodgers became the first big-league baseball club to barnstorm Mexico in 27 years, the name of Fernando Valenzuela, conquistador , came blowing in a northerly direction by some Santa Ana trade winds. An executive of the San Diego Padres, Joe McIlvaine, purported to have been approached about the feasibility of Valenzuela relocating from Los Angeles to San Diego--a discussion the Dodgers hotly deny.

Fernando a Padre? Mia madre! It’s enough to make a Dodger fan’s brown eyes blue.

Of course, better a Padre than a Red Sock or a White Sock or an Oriole or a Blue Jay, no? At least Valenzuela would be in the vicinity, neither out of sight nor out of mind. At least he would be nearer his homeland, if farther from his adopted hometown. At least he would make periodic return engagements to Chavez Ravine, where he is viewed, no religious disrespect intended, as a left hand of God.

Fernando in San Diego? If he must be someplace else, OK, let it be there.

McIlvaine, however, was of the opinion that it was highly unlikely such arrangements would be made. He described Valenzuela, with blunt though hardly brutal honesty, as being on the “downside of his career,” and doubted that Fernando would soon find himself part of the scenery there in suburban Tijuana.

Possibly the Padres will change their minds once they get further word about Fernando’s moment of truth Sunday south of the border. He was on the inside corner, outside corner, everywhere but the downside corner in five fantastic innings against the Milwaukee Brewers, surrendering two hits and striking out four--the best he has ever looked in a spring game, Fernando himself had to admit.

Peter O’Malley, pater familias of the Dodgers, was thrilled by the spectacle of Fernando’s triumphant return, and neither he nor General Manager Fred Claire, given the circumstances, could envision Valenzuela pitching for any team but theirs. Claire, in particular, seemed outraged not only by the suggestion that the Dodgers would dispatch Valenzuela, but that anyone would dare disparage his skills.

Twelve years passed since any baseball mound in Mexico was mounted by Fernando, whose face is famous enough in his native land to be on postage stamps someday. He is an icon there, an idol, who, at the tender-armed age of 30, was pleased to demonstrate to his people that it is still premature to speak of his legend in the past tense.

The Dodgers do not know for sure what to do with him, but they do not care to do without him.

Then again, how do you say adios to Fernando Valenzuela?

Logically, rationally, there is every reason for the Dodgers to do just that. By negotiating for Fernando to pitch someplace else, they actually would be doing him a favor. Other teams need pitching, particularly that of the left-handed variety, far more than the Dodgers do, and Valenzuela is still too much the bullfighter to be sentenced to the bullpen.

The Dodgers can carry only so many pitchers. They cannot subjugate Valenzuela to the minor leagues; for someone so distinguished, pride demands duty before dishonor. Even the short period that Fernando was a free agent was intolerable to the Dodgers. Obligations to Fernando Valenzula have become, frankly, more familial than impersonal.

There was a time when the relationship between the Dodgers and Valenzuela was completely in sync, harmonious and eurythmic, mutually rewarding to the point that they seemed eternally inseparable. They could no more permit him to pitch elsewhere than Bostonians could stomach the thought of Carl Yastrzemski batting for the New York Yankees. Nothing short of retirement would ever make Valenzuela an ex-Dodger.

Yet the world keeps spinning like an overhand curve. Babe Ruth left New York, Hank Aaron left Atlanta, Pete Rose strayed from Cincinnati and Reggie Jackson drifted from town to town like a traveling salesman. Men do leave. Dodger devotees so disturbed by the notion of Steve Garvey or Steve Sax or even Steve Howe working anywhere else found themselves shedding few tears of empathy for New Yorkers who abruptly had to carry on without Darryl Strawberry. Devotion depends on where you’re sitting.

Where Valenzuela is concerned, the Dodgers are compelled not to play hardball. He is “family.” Common sense says to trade him, while Valenzuela has value. His heyday is behind him, but so is his sore shoulder. He pitched a no-hitter last June. He won 13 games; only two National League lefties won more. He is not ready to retire after he turns 31, as Sandy Koufax did.

Loyalty is a two-way street, and in contract negotiations more than once Valenzuela has used as leverage his willingness to work elsewhere. Even so, just imagine Koufax in another team’s uniform. The plot sickens, and therefore we implore the Dodgers, on behalf of those who believe in keeping things where they belong, to treat Fernando as a Los Angeles landmark and preserve him.