“When I was a kid, I hated this day,” Alex Cora said on Sunday morning.
It’s Father’s Day, and the Red Sox manager is thinking about his father. José Manuel Cora passed away in 1989, when Alex was only 13 years old.
“After I lost my dad, I hated it,” Cora explains. “You know, it’s just like, why us? Why he’s not with us?”
But with time, and becoming a father himself, he gained perspective to accompany the pain of losing his.
“Now, it’s the other way around. It’s kind of like, you grow up, and you learn, and you understand,” he explained. “We were blessed. I was blessed to have my dad for 13 years.”
Cora still wonders what his José’s opinion would be all manner of topics, but has no doubt how his father would feel about his three siblings’ accomplishments.
“It’s always… what’s he thinking? We always talk about (big brother) Joey and myself being successful, but my two sisters are friggin’ amazing, you know? They’re just stars of the family. And they’ve been very successful at everything they do, and I know from where (dad’s) at, he’s very proud.”
Like his younger brother, Joey Cora played in the majors for over a decade before transitioning into coaching with the White Sox, Marlins, Pirates, and now Mets. But when their father was diagnosed with cancer, he was already in the Padres minor leagues. Over the years, he’s recounted how Jose began preparing him to be the man of the family long before he got sick.
11 years Alex’s senior, Joey stepped into a father-figure role, and the two brothers are incredibly close. Still, the Red Sox manager doesn’t pretend it isn’t painful that he isn’t able to share his life with his father, who was a sports journalist and coached Little League. He became increasingly emotional as he discussed what his father would think of his baseball career, which has already included some of the highest highs, such as winning multiple World Series rings, and lowest lows, like his role in Houston’s sign-stealing scandal and subsequent departure from the Red Sox during the 2019-20 offseason.
“There’s certain days that I wonder if he’s proud of what I’m doing here or what I’ve done throughout the years,” he said, his voice quavering. “I bet he’ll, you know, he’ll be honest with me. At certain points, very disappointed, but at certain points, very proud of what I have accomplished.”
And on a day like Sunday, when Fenway Park will be packed with fathers and their children, because at its core, baseball is a game rooted in family and tradition, it’s evident the father of three wishes he could also be a son again.
“I feel like, you know, this environment for him, would be perfect,” he’s very choked up now. “Baseball, just baseball. The pure aspect of the game, at Fenway Park. No music, no like, ‘Make some noise’ stuff, you know? Just the pure aspect of the game.”
After reopening the kind of wounds that never fully heal, he smiles at the thought of just being at the ballpark with his dad.
“I bet he would love it.”