loudmarlinsfan

Every day, I monitor Twitter (or X, as it’s now officially called—though I refuse to adopt that name) to gauge thousands of fan reactions to posts (formerly known as tweets). From what I see, the Miami Marlins fan base is divided. On one side are fans who still view the Marlins’ front office as cheap—unwilling to spend hundreds of millions on free agents who inevitably sign with one of five big-market teams. On the other side are fans intrigued by the new leadership, especially after a 79-win season—the team’s best non-playoff record since 2017. As I follow these debates, I completely understand both perspectives. But before I go further, let me share my credentials as a fan. I’ve been a Marlins fan since Opening Day in 1993, when they were still the Florida Marlins. Over the past 32+ years, I’ve attended more than 600 games since Charlie Hough threw that first pitch. I was there in 1997 when Edgar Renteria hit the walk-off single in Game 7 to win the World Series. I was 12 when I endured the painful offseason that followed, watching 95% of that championship roster get sold off. I witnessed Cliff Floyd’s home runs in a rainy Pro Player Stadium in 1998. I watched the Marlins’ Hall of Famers make highlight-reel plays at the turn of the century, and I remember the 2002 trade that sent All-Star Preston Wilson away for Juan Pierre. In 2003, I attended every home playoff game, cheering for Pudge Rodriguez and a returning Jeff Conine as they led the Fish back to the NLCS. I saw rookie Miguel Cabrera crush a monster home run off Roger Clemens in Game 4 of the World Series. And I’ll never forget sitting in my high school gym, watching Josh Beckett throw a masterful complete-game shutout in Game 6 to secure the Marlins’ second World Series title in just 10 years. Since 2003, I haven’t attended a single MLB playoff game. When the Florida Marlins became the Miami Marlins, I started driving an extra 15 miles—adding 35 minutes to every trip from Boca Raton. I saw Giancarlo Stanton obliterate the left-field scoreboard with a monster shot in May 2012. My wife and I had our first date at Marlins Park that same year, and we’ve shared countless memories there since. In fact, I proposed to her in Boston during a Marlins two-day road trip on July 7, 2015. The Marlins franchise and I are symbiotic. My friends and family know me not from social media, but as a die-hard Marlins fan. I get calls from high school and college friends asking, “How are your Marlins doing?” Being a fan, of course, comes with highs and lows. My lowest point wasn’t the infamous Miguel Cabrera and Dontrelle Willis trade, nor the 1997/98 sell-off, nor Project Wolverine in 2017/18. Instead, it came in September 2016 when Jose Fernandez tragically died—and then personal family losses followed. No trade or free-agent departure hit me as hard as Jose’s death. In October 2016, my grandmother passed away, and by late October 2017, my 34-year-old brother Ian lost his battle with cancer. Close to his passing, Ian joked that Giancarlo Stanton would become a Yankee. Little did I know, two months after his death, that joke would come true. The toughest time for me as a Marlins fan was 2018–2019. I only attended a handful of games during those seasons. Between Jose’s extinguished smile, my brother’s death (the person who made me love baseball), and the outfield and catcher trades of 2018, my fandom was on the line. Then came the shortened 2020 COVID season—and Jazz Chisholm Jr. Jazz’s purple-and-blue hair, his fast-paced style, his love and joy for the game reignited my passion. He lit the fire under me to keep going as a baseball fan and pledge my allegiance to the Marlins. That’s when LoudMarlinsFan (@LoudMiamiFan) was born. Don’t get me wrong—Chase the fan always existed. From 2003–2011, I wore face paint and my black-and-white “Chaser 22” jersey to every game. When the Miami Marlins opened their stadium, I switched to an orange morph suit for every game. I sat front row in the Clevelander, dancing near the bullpen from 2014–2017. I chased down cameras to get on the big screen. Before LMF existed on social media, “Chaser the Orange” was already a fixture. Fast forward to now—I’ve become a nationally recognized fan. Twitter helped me connect with fans of all 30 teams. LMF has appeared on FS1, MLB Network, and ESPN game coverage. Now that you know my experience and who I am, I can fairly answer: Should we trust the new front office and Bruce Sherman’s ownership? My answer is YES. In all my years as a Marlins fan—through multiple GMs, managers, coaches, and owners—I have never seen a true organizational structure like the one in place now. If spending money guaranteed championships, I’d say no, because Sherman isn’t the richest owner. But building a sustainable franchise from the ground up? That’s something South Florida has never seen. And we’re seeing it now. The Marlins just finished a 79-win season—their best non-playoff record since 2017—powered by rookies. Imagine what happens when these players hit their prime. Nearly every position player on the 40-man roster is under team control for four-plus years. From All-Star Kyle Stowers to rookies Jakob Marsee, Agustin Ramirez, and Griffin Conine, this core is locked in. The pitching staff is young, controllable, and reinforced by prospects in AA and AAA who are almost ready for the big leagues. The farm system was rebuilt through Peter Bendix’s trades—dealing stars like Jesús Luzardo, Tanner Scott, Luis Arraez, Jake Burger, Trevor Rogers, and yes, my favorite player, Jazz Chisholm Jr. Fans have no control over front-office decisions. They don’t care if we love or hate them—and I respect that, even when it hurts. I hate losing my favorite players, but as a 40-year-old fan who’s been here since day one, I see the bigger picture. Bendix’s moves have created success. From player acquisitions to coaching hires to analytics-driven decisions, the Marlins are building something real. Spending billions doesn’t guarantee titles—the Mets, Phillies, Yankees, and Blue Jays have proven that. Even the Dodgers, who cracked the code, did it with smart contracts and structure—not just money. It’s time for the Marlins to punch back. To kick out of the three-count and show baseball there’s a new way to compete. I trust this front office to build a contender by 2028—and a team that will play in multiple playoff series, including a World Series by 2030. Change doesn’t happen overnight, but Peter Bendix and Bruce Sherman are rewriting the playbook. We, as fans, get to witness it in real time. So let’s show up. Let’s support the players wearing our team’s insignia. #LetsGETLouder at Loan Depot Park, The future is bright—and it’s ours.

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