Under a warm Caribbean sun, a 19-year-old Bobby Abreu stretches and throws. He is doing what he loves, what he feels he was born to do - getting ready to play baseball.

On this day in 1993 in Caracas, his family sits in the packed ballpark in baseball-crazy Venezuela, eager for the start of a winter league game and to see the best of the four Abreu boys, the one who is only 19 but already spends his springs and summers in the United States, striving for the major leagues.

Miles away, in Cuba, the man who started it all for Bobby and his brothers lies on an operating table. Nelson Abreu, the man who taught Bobby and his brothers to play the game, to love the game, is all alone - the family could not afford to send anyone with him while he has the surgery everyone hopes will help him walk again.

While Bobby warms up, his mind sifting through pitching matchups and reminders to himself to stay patient at the plate, a phone rings with a call from Cuba. Moments later, a crushed Bobby Abreu has to tell his siblings, "Daddy is dead."