A famous proverb from Venezuela is like this: “There is nothing hidden between the sky and the earth.” This is especially true when it comes to pitching prospects. (Although another famous proverb from Venezuela is like this: “No hay cosa tal como una prospect de pitching.”) My dear brother-in-laws Wilson Alvarez was the first of my countrypeoples to attain cien victories, and talent like that that I think you will agree was not hidden. There was no way to hide the talent of a certain gentleman yclept Johan Santana, and now all the world sings praises of him. Carlos Zambrano, that fiery young cousin of mine, has been attemptings to carry an entire club on his back; Victor Zambrano, of the other hand, does esuck, but mostly because that pinche overrated Carlos Beltran fails to hit when dear Victor hurls on the mound, because he does not like Venezuelans, and because he is less than a man. (I has personal proof of that, créame.)

But a new god is waiting to be add to the firmament of Venezuelan pitching leyendas. He is called Felix Hernandez, and he plays for los Mariners de Seattle, and he will tonight becomes the first teenaged to start a beisbol game since 1991, when Felix had only four años. He is the future of the game, and even some of you gringito beisbol writers is understanding this. Look, down below, if you are want to see what some scaredy-culo Tigres del Detroit will be seeings tonight.

It will be no surprise to know that I am related to his mother in a way, as she is my second aunt on my father side. I have babysatted Felix when he was only two years old; although he often caca in the house I knew he would be especial. (This only to happen two times, because my first single, “Hagamos el Amor en la Playa de Cada País en el Mundo,” became such an international hit and I had to embark on tour. But it is always still a good memory in my heart.)

He is a shining star, an eddy, a light of the light in a sea that eddies of the dark. And his first of the pitching could not come in awhile better for our nation. Everything around, the wolves is collecting in Venezuela. Our president, Hugo Chavez, on which we are all the deeply ambiguous ones, continues being invaded in all the sides: our clergy denunci and says that his socialist policies will cause bloodbath in the streets of Caracas, and the United States has plans to assault our ears and eyes with new a television and campaign of the radio that make doubt our leader more us than always before. On the other hand, same Chavez admits that he has underperformed in his promise to house the poor men, and our unemployed tariff continues showing in 11% unspeakable, and government officers investigating El Universal for not granting total favored coverage of they.

The plus, Bobby Abreu esucks since the home of the All-Star Game Home Run Derby. (Except for his grand slam home run today, which has once again restored my slavering respect for him.)

So it is with no wonder that we will be watching Felix Hernandez tonight. He give us reason to carry on. It may be a big load for one so young, but I know he can carry it, much as he carried that load in his pants all those years ago. ¡Felix we turn our lonely eyes to you! ¡Woo hoo hoo!

Ana Maria Callejeo Guillen is the top baseball writer for El Universal. Her talk show on E$PN Deportes, “Una Hora con Ana Maria, Como Usted Podría Dirigir Que, Porque Usted no Podría, Podría Ningún Hombre,” begins on September 1.