It wasn’t all that long ago that those three numbers – 911 – simply meant the three digits one would dial in case your cat was stuck in a tree, or your keys were locked inside your house. But then came a day when those numbers became something that meant so much more. Suffice it to say that our lives changed forever on that fateful September 11th. It was the day that we realized that nothing was safe or sacred. It was the day we realized that we, too, are simply human. It was a day that the world – the baseball world, and the wide world outside of baseball – will never, ever forget.

The year was 1998. The starting pitcher for the defending World Champion Florida Marlins was the soon-to-be-forgotten Kirt Ojala. The starting pitcher for the hosting Atlanta Braves was soon-to-be Hall-of-Famer John Smoltz. The result was the same as it had been 99 previous times that year for the Marlins – a loss, 8-2, to the eventual NL East champions. With that loss, the Marlins became the first team to ever follow a World Series victory with a 100-loss season. That the loss came only in the Marlins’ 148th game of the season is just another sad reminder of the tragedy that befell this great franchise that day.

Just 365 days prior, the Marlins boasted one of the most dangerous rosters in baseball. Their batting order was overflowing with All-Star power. Manager Jim Leyland could pencil in household names like Bobby Bonilla, Gary Sheffield, Moises Alou, and Jeff Conine every day of the week, and the homegrown keystone combo of Edgar Renteria and Jose Castillo proved to be death to ground-ball things. Meanwhile, the pitching staff trifecta of Kevin Brown, Al Leiter, and Alex Fernandez had become a quartet of dire consequence for other teams, thanks to the arrival of phenom Livan Hernandez. And after they held down opponents for the 7 or 8 innings of work, the one-two-three punch of Dennis Cook, Jay Powell, and Robb Nen would seal the deal.

It was a storybook year for a franchise still in its infancy, and it ended all too suddenly. A tragic turn of events in the front office would ultimately decimate the roster, wrecking the championship core. Such a disaster left them bereft and seemingly without hope. And for many years, this Ground Zero smoldered and smoked as other teams would thoughtlessly kick their shoes through the rubble and cackle maniacally. Yes, the franchise has rebounded with yet another World Championship, but the ghosts of 911 still linger in the house that Joe Robbie once built. Those that suffered on that fateful day – be they World Series superstars like Edgar Renteria, or nobodies like Eric Ludwick – and still carry the horror and shock with them, as they will for the rest of their lives.

The teal and green doesn’t shine as brightly as it once did underneath the warm Florida skies. The balls don’t fly as far as they used to through that comforting Southern air. And the players don’t skip over the foul lines with the same vigor as they once did. No one can blame them. It has been said that those that don’t remember and honor their history are doomed to repeat it. And no matter where this group of baseball players finds themselves in the future, it is imperative that they never forget. It is imperative that we never forget. It is imperative that such a day be remembered at every opportunity, no matter how incongruous or seemingly inappropriate. It is imperative that our every waking moment is informed and overwhelmed with the horrible events of that awful day. It is imperative that the world never, ever forgets.

The victims of 911 would want it that way.

Dave Le Bastard writes for the Miami HALO. As we have stated before, he is in no way affiliated with any other newspaper in the Miami area, and has no connection to a similarly-named columnist from the Miami area. He would also never appear on E$PN’s Around The Horn with mouthbreathers like Bill Plaschke and Woody Paige.