Fernando Valenzuela's Legacy: Communities First in Urban Development!

Intro: In 1981, with New York's native sons, the Los Angeles Dodgers, in town, 39,848 fans at Shea Stadium watched Fernando Valenzuela—a 20-year-old rookie sensation from Mexico—pitch his way into baseball history. Accounts from the game tell of a roaring crowd as "El Toro" shut out the Mets, 1-0, extending his unprecedented win streak (7-0) on 142 pitches and igniting "Fernandomania." As the season progressed, Valenzuela's impact extended beyond the field; his newly acquired superstar status bridged a painful past, bringing pride and unity to a Mexican-American community in Los Angeles still scarred by the displacement from Chávez Ravine, where Dodger Stadium was built.

Today, just days after his passing and only a Pete Alonso blast away from that Shea Stadium pitcher's mound, New York City prepares for a $780 million soccer stadium in Queens. But are we truly learning from the past?

Thesis: Fernando Valenzuela's story and the painful history of Chávez Ravine remind us that urban development should prioritize and respect communities, not merely economic interests. As New York moves forward with the Willets Point stadium project, it has the chance to ensure that public development genuinely serves, rather than disrupts, local neighborhoods.

The Historical Consequences of Displacement: The construction of Dodger Stadium in Los Angeles exemplifies how large-scale development projects can uproot vulnerable communities. In the 1950s, Chávez Ravine was home to a vibrant Mexican-American neighborhood until residents were forcibly displaced under the guise of a public housing project that never materialized. The land was ultimately sold to the Dodgers, creating lasting scars and eroding trust in local authorities and the newly arrived baseball organization.

This displacement pattern resembled what was happening in New York with various Robert Moses projects. Moses's highways cut through neighborhoods, disproportionately targeting lower-income and minority communities. His Cross Bronx Expressway, for instance, bisected the South Bronx, introducing poverty, pollution, and noise that are widely blamed for economic hardships that linger today. Both cases highlight how "progress" can deepen generational wounds, prioritizing infrastructure over community stability and amplifying socioeconomic divides that persist for decades.

The Power of Cultural Icons to Heal and Reconnect: Fernando Valenzuela's arrival and success with the Dodgers in 1981 helped heal some of the pain left by Chávez Ravine's displacement. As a Mexican-born pitcher, Valenzuela became a cultural icon for Mexican-American fans in L.A. and beyond, transforming Dodger Stadium into a place of pride and connection. His success brought a sense of reconciliation to fans who had felt alienated from the franchise, proving that representation and cultural ties can help communities reconnect with their heritage and spaces with complex histories.

The Opportunity for Inclusive Development at Willets Point: The newly approved Willets Point stadium in Queens offers New York a chance to avoid past mistakes in urban development. This $780 million project promises not only a soccer venue but also affordable housing, community spaces, and local hiring initiatives. However, the Independent Budget Office has estimated that taxpayers could shoulder up to $516 million over the stadium's 49-year lease. Community advocates and public officials must ensure that these commitments are fulfilled. Just as Valenzuela helped transform Dodger Stadium into a place of cultural pride, today's planners can create spaces that prioritize inclusion—if they hold true to their commitments.

"To Be Sure": Critics might argue that large development projects inevitably bring some disruption, which can ultimately benefit the larger community. Stadiums drive tourism, create jobs, and can revitalize neighborhoods, providing economic boosts. However, the histories of Chávez Ravine and Moses's projects show that when urban and economic development is pursued at the expense of community stability and heritage, it risks eroding long-term success and goodwill. Truly sustainable urban development should uplift residents rather than displace them.

Conclusion: The legacy of Fernando Valenzuela and the story of Chávez Ravine highlight the responsibilities that come with large-scale urban development. As New York moves forward with Willets Point, it has the chance to rewrite this story—to respect community voices, deliver affordable housing, and create shared public spaces. By honoring the heritage of our communities, we can build an inclusive future that lets every fan and resident take pride in what's built in their backyards.