Eliezer Alfonzo Jr. wrote two sets of initials above the brim of his cap before stepping onto the field Sunday for the biggest game of his life. "E y P", for Eliana and Patricia. Then, beneath them: "RIP." The 26-year-old Dodgers catcher had just learned that his sister and stepmother were among the more than 3,000 people killed in the earthquakes that struck Venezuela on June 24.
He played anyway.
The decision to take the field, in his first Major League Baseball appearance, no less, turned what should have been a milestone celebration into something far heavier. Alfonzo's home debut against the San Diego Padres ended in a 5, 2 loss, but the final score was beside the point. The Sun reported that news of Eliana's and Patricia's deaths reached the young catcher the same day he was set to make his long-awaited debut.
Alfonzo comes from the game. His father, Eliezer Alfonzo Sr., spent six seasons as a catcher in the majors and was once a teammate of current Dodgers manager Dave Roberts. The younger Alfonzo signed a minor league deal with Los Angeles in November, the exact year was not specified, that included an invitation to major league spring training.
He spent time with the Oklahoma City Comets, the Dodgers' minor league affiliate, before earning a call-up on July 4. Days later, he was in the starting lineup at the Dodgers' home park.
Then Venezuela's disaster reached his doorstep.
The earthquakes that hit Venezuela on June 24 have produced a catastrophe that continues to unfold. The official death toll has surpassed 3,000, with tens of thousands more injured. Rescue teams have pulled survivors from collapsed buildings days after the initial quake, while recovery crews have also found victims buried beneath rubble in Caracas in scenes that underscore the scale of the destruction.
For the Dodgers organization, the disaster was not abstract. Roberts told reporters that multiple members of the team have ties to Venezuela.
"[Miguel Rojas and Edgardo [Henriquez] have family there, among other players in the big leagues, and people in Venezuela, but we weren't kind of directly impacted until Eliezer, part of our organization, was directly impacted."
Roberts added: "So that's what hits home even more, right or wrong. But our hearts break for them, and we're going to be here to support him in any way we possibly can."
The manager's comments reflected a broader reality across professional baseball. Venezuela has long been one of the sport's richest talent pipelines, and the earthquake's toll has rippled through clubhouses across the league.
Speaking to reporters in Spanish after the game, Alfonzo did not dodge the weight of the moment. His words were spare and direct.
"Honestly it was a little difficult, but at the same time, thanking God always for everything."
He continued: "What happened, unfortunately, is out of my hands and part of life. Only God knows why they happen."
The cap he wore, with "E y P" and "RIP" hand-written above the brim, and an embroidered "VZ" on the side for Venezuela, said what statistics could not. Alfonzo made clear why he chose to play rather than sit out.
"I went out there to honor my sister and my stepmother, and give my best in a difficult moment."
He acknowledged the loss on the scoreboard, too. "Unfortunately, we couldn't get the win, but you have to keep moving forward."
The human cost of the Venezuela earthquakes has been staggering, and the reasons extend beyond seismology. Questions have mounted over whether Venezuela's socialist housing program contributed to mass casualties by producing structures that could not withstand the shaking. Poorly built government housing has long been a point of concern in the country, and the earthquake exposed those failures in the most lethal way possible.
Meanwhile, the Maduro regime's response has drawn international scrutiny. Reports emerged of Venezuelan officials blocking American rescue teams from reaching disaster zones, a decision that, if accurate, prioritized political posturing over saving lives buried under concrete.
Some rescue efforts have produced remarkable outcomes despite the obstacles. One security guard was pulled alive from earthquake rubble after spending eight days underground, a reminder that speed and access matter in the critical hours and days after a quake.
For Eliana Alfonzo and Patricia, that window closed. The details of where in Venezuela they were found, and under what circumstances, have not been publicly reported.
Alfonzo's story is not primarily a baseball story. It is a story about a young man from a baseball family who received the worst news of his life on what was supposed to be the best day of his career, and chose to honor the dead by doing his job.
The Dodgers lost the game. The box score does not record what Alfonzo carried to the plate. But the initials on his cap told the story plainly enough.
Roberts pledged the organization's support. Teammates stood beside him. The crowd watched a man play through grief most of them will never have to carry in public.
More than 3,000 people are dead in Venezuela. Tens of thousands are injured. A regime that built shoddy housing and obstructed foreign rescuers bears responsibility for a share of that toll. And one 26-year-old catcher, standing in a major league batter's box for the first time, wore the proof on his forehead.
Sometimes the measure of a man is not what he does when everything goes right. It is what he does when everything falls apart, and he shows up anyway.
