BREAKING: Freddie Freeman has shocked the MLB world by donating $2 million to Candelaria Rivas Ramos, a Mexican minority woman who walked 14 hours from her home in a small mountain town to compete in the 2025 Canyon Super Marathon and became the Super Marathon champion. The gesture, which comes as one of the most heartfelt acts of sports philanthropy in recent memory, has sent ripples of emotion throughout the world of sports, humanitarian circles, and across cultural lines that often remain unspoken in the realm of major league influence. Freeman, the six-time All-Star and 2020 National League MVP, has made charitable contributions in the past, but nothing on this scale—nor one so personally resonant and globally symbolic.
Candelaria Rivas Ramos has quickly become a household name, but not because she plays on any television network or has endorsement deals with massive brands. Instead, her name carries weight because of the staggering resilience and spirit she represents. Coming from a small, rural mountain village in the Sierra Tarahumara region of northern Mexico, she is part of an Indigenous population whose cultural roots extend back centuries. These people are known for their endurance running, but Rivas Ramos’s journey and victory are anything but typical.
In the days leading up to the 2025 Canyon Super Marathon—a grueling 100-kilometer ultramarathon that slices through canyon terrain and punishes even the most elite of runners—news began to circulate of a barefoot woman walking over 14 hours just to reach the registration tent. That woman was Candelaria. Clad in a simple handmade dress and huaraches (traditional sandals made from recycled tire rubber), she walked through nightfall, carrying only a small pouch of water and a handmade shawl to protect her from the desert chill.
She didn’t have a coach. She had no sponsor. She didn’t even have a cellphone. What she did have was sheer resolve—and an unshakable connection to her ancestors who ran similar trails in spiritual and ceremonial tradition. She completed the ultramarathon not just with competitiveness, but with a calm, focused rhythm, pushing through elevation changes, heat, and rocky terrain to finish first. The crowd was stunned. Her name was not even in the pre-race predictions. There were no press interviews arranged. But by the time she crossed the finish line, word of her journey and performance had captivated the entire arena.
Freeman, who was watching highlights of the race in a hotel room in San Diego after a Dodgers road game, was floored. What struck him was not just the athletic feat but the image of a woman who had given everything she had to show up. In a league and society where privilege often determines who even gets to participate, Freeman saw in Rivas Ramos the purest form of meritocracy and spirit. According to sources close to the Freeman family, he couldn’t stop watching her finish line footage on repeat. He immediately reached out to his foundation team and told them to initiate a transfer of $2 million—directly to her, not a third-party organization.
The donation wasn’t made with fanfare. In fact, Freeman initially insisted it remain anonymous. But once Candelaria’s village elders held a community ceremony to celebrate the gift, it became public knowledge. In that ceremony, where drums and dance honored both Candelaria’s victory and Freeman’s generosity, local leaders said the donation would be used to rebuild the only primary school in the region, construct a clean water system, and establish a running center for Indigenous youth to train and preserve their cultural practices.
Freeman later released a modest statement: “Candelaria reminded me why we fall in love with sports in the first place. It’s not the trophies or the lights or the money. It’s about raw spirit. About doing something so hard, so far out of reach, that it forces everyone watching to reconsider what they think is possible. This is her story. I just wanted to help carry it forward.”
