Stanton's Voice Guides Marlins in Grief

By ESPN

Giancarlo Stanton hails from the "Show, don't tell" school of baseball leadership. When a hitter stands 6-foot-6 and 245 pounds, dominates the Home Run Derby, dents scoreboards with regularity and induces panic attacks while he's standing in the on-deck circle, it borders on overkill to speak in a commanding tone of voice.

Stanton has a $325 million contract and three All-Star Games on his résumé, so the laid-back Southern California style suits him well. His approach to baseball and life in general contrasts mightily with that of late teammate Jose Fernandez, whose fiery, alternately comical and confrontational style made him worth the price of admission. They were indisputably the two best players on the Miami Marlins' roster, but Stanton led primarily by example, while Fernandez relied on velocity, torque and a smile that made him a force of nature.

Now Fernandez is gone -- the victim of a tragic boating accident at age 24 -- and Stanton stands alone as Miami's resident superstar. If a single gesture shows that he has the shoulders to carry the burden, it came shortly before the Marlins took the field against the New York Mets on Monday night.

The Marlins' pregame ceremony for Fernandez was a predictably solemn occasion, with an understated rendition of "Take Me Out to the Ballgame"' on trumpet, a color guard and contorted faces trying to hold back tears. The emotions built even more when the Marlins knelt in the dirt and inscribed personal messages to their late, beloved teammate.

Eventually, a game had to be played, and as the Marlins prepared to take the field, a single face and voice stood out from the crowd. There was Stanton, with red-rimmed eyes and a gray No. 16 adorning his black Marlins cap, exhorting his teammates to put their grief aside for a few hours and play the game the way Jose would have wanted. When he finished talking, he thrust a finger in the air, and every other hand in the scrum shot skyward to meet it. Stanton didn't plan his sermon from on high. It just happened.

"Honestly, I went kind of numb in that moment," Stanton said. "A lot of us were talking about, 'Why are we here right now? What's the main purpose of this? How do we get through this together?' I was just trying to ease all that. I told them, 'We're here for Jose and his fans and everyone to come together. We're the last hope and the last heart for him.'"

There were multiple displays of grace, sportsmanship and people rising to meet the occasion during the Marlins' 7-3 victory over the Mets. Right after the national anthem, the Mets crossed the field and met the Marlins in an inspiring display of baseball brotherhood. Just how classy a gesture it was dawned on Stanton when pitcher Jacob deGrom, his right arm encased in a cast and a sling, attempted to reach out in an effort to console him.

Miami second baseman Dee Gordon, a spindly bundle of emotion and tears, set the tone for the evening when he launched his first home run in 74 games this season on his first swing against Bartolo Colon. For the sake of improbability, timing, karma and bolt-from-the-heavens-caliber shock value, it might have been the closest thing to a miracle that baseball has seen since Mike Piazza's post-9/11 home run against the Atlanta Braves.