I was just six years old when my dad, Agustin Torres, took my brother Juan Carlos and me to our first professional
game in Hato Rey, Puerto Rico. The memories are so fresh in my head it feels like it was yesterday. I remember the
excitement I felt, as we got closer to Hiram Bithorn Stadium, which was named after the first Puerto Rican to make
it to the majors. I could hardly contain my excitement as the players ran out on the field. It was paradise to me.
I was overwhelmed by the spectacle of it all. My dad, seeing the excitement on our faces, said with a big smile,
"we are here to see one of the greatest baseball players of all time... Roberto Clemente. He is the man,"
he continued to say, as he pointed him out to us.