Written by Tyler Palmer…
I woke up to a text yesterday morning that I still can’t comprehend. So much has happened in the past 2 years that I continue to question why things happen the way they do. If you never met Ari Arteaga and his family, here is my story..
I will start off by saying, If there is one person I owe my University of Miami education and playing experience too, it is J.D. Arteaga. The father and pitching coach at the University of Miami. In 2011 I made the decision to leave University of Florida, and at the time my only route was to go to a local junior college. For anyone who has had to transfer colleges, they know the difficulties and the uncertainties that arise in your head once having to leave what you though was going to be your home for the next 3-4 years. Through some magical circumstances I had the opportunity to continue my education and Division 1 playing experience in 2012 at the University of Miami because of the dedication that J.D. put into myself and my family. It was a process that took nearly 3 months of battling with compliance and the NCAA. Til this day, my mom will tell you that when leaving your child in a coaches hand at a University, there is only one person that can understand what a family is going through, put themselves in your shoes, and then work tirelessly to benefit you, and that is Juan Diego Arteaga.
My heart is broken for the Arteaga family. If you have never seen a spitting image of a father/son, I would have told you that you have never seen Ari and JD. While JD may have one of the purest souls I have ever known, he is much a ball-buster as anyone would say. 10 year old Ari was much of the same. Ari bled green & orange, so much so, that the first time we met in the locker room he asked me why I ever even thought about going to Florida, and never let me live it down for the rest of the year. Until my first game against them and in my second at bat, I hit a home run off of Hudson Randall, who was the pitcher at the time. I retrieved that baseball, and the one 10 year old that knew how much that moment meant to me was none other than Ari Arteaga. He ran the baseball down behind the left field fence and handed it to me in the locker room after the game.
The stories JD used to tell of us Ari when he was younger always had us laughing at the field. I remember when I believe he was 11 and he pretended to only speak spanish in his math class for the first week of school. The teacher called JD and Ysha in for a conference saying that she was having a hard time relaying the information to Ari because of his inability to speak english. Most fathers would be mad at their child for such acts, JD & Ari laughed together as he told us the story and then they proceeded to the cages where Ari would show us college guys, what a young stud at 11 years old really looks like.
With such a bright future ahead, I will forever miss seeing Ari continue to grow up. I recently saw him at The Grind House before he went off to Atlanta for the WWBA and I didn’t even recognize him. The 11 year old with a mustache, had a full grown beard and filled out his uniform better than most Division 1 baseball players do.
There was no doubt in my mind Ari would have continued the Arteaga legacy at the University of Miami and be mentioned with his father as one the Canes greats. He would have had his own baseball with his number retired in centerfield with stories to be shared for the guys at Mark Light field for decades.
He still will.
To the Arteaga family, I owe you the world, and my heart hurts. I love you guys
R.I.P. Ari Arteaga
