Miami Marlins leadoff hitter Dee Gordon paid tribute to his friend and teammate, Jose Fernandez, on Monday night, stepping into the right-handed batter’s box with Fernandez’s batting helmet on and taking a pitch.

He then stepped back – with his own helmet – into the left-handed batter’s box and took the next pitch deep over the right-field fence for a leadoff home run.

It was Gordon’s first homer of the season.

You can’t make this stuff up, but it’s really not surprising what human beings are capable of.

A day after Fernandez, who was only 24, was killed in a boating accident, Gordon was overcome with emotion as he crossed home plate, looked up to the sky, crying, and was hugged by a teammate, and then all his teammates – who were all wearing “Fernandez. 16” jerseys.

We can all relate. We have all suffered tragedies or lost someone very close to us. And many of us have been able to look deep inside to find strength we may not have even believed we had.

During the Mets at Marlins game, the TV broadcast often cut to video of Fernandez laughing, cheering, yelling, showboating, or otherwise living his life with gusto.

Fernandez would be proud of his teammate for hitting that rare home run, but he wouldn’t be surprised.

Because Fernandez, of all people, lived his life knowing full well what human beings were capable of.

As a teenager, he was jailed for trying to defect from Cuba. On his fourth attempt, at age 15, he made it out and had to save his mother from drowning when she fell out of the boat on violent waters near Mexico.

When he tried out for his high school baseball team, the coach wouldn’t even look at him until after the actual tryout.

He couldn’t speak English and no one knew who he was.

When he finally did look at him, he clocked him at 94 miles per hour.

He made the team… obviously.

And took three English courses a year his sophomore, junior and senior years until he could speak fluently.

Yes, of all people, Fernandez knew what human beings were capable of. And, notwithstanding his 95-mile-per-hour fastball and wipeout slider, that might have been his greatest gift of all.

And a reminder for all of us.