Friday, 5/9/97 A mother-daughter bond to baseball A sports
enthusiast’s inspiration is attributed to her mom
Happy Mother’s Day everyone! OK, the holiday isn’t until Sunday,
but people should be celebrating the holiday 365 days a year. After
all, where would we all be if we didn’t have mothers? So, go out to
those stores, buy those flowery, cheesy Hallmark cards, and send
them off pronto! Meanwhile, I’m giving my mom baseball cards and a
copy of this column. Yes, you read that right. Baseball cards. It’s
a fitting gift for the person who sparked my interest in sports. I
remember the fateful June afternoon quite well. I was a nerdy
little seventh grader doing her homework at the kitchen table (who
cares about their homework in June? Gosh …) when my mom called me
over to the couch, where she was reading a copy of the latest San
Diego Tribune. She told me to take a look at this photo that was on
the second page of the news section. Being the dutiful daughter I
am, I did as she said. My life was forever changed as a result.
Looking up at me (and only me!) from the newspaper was the hottest
guy I had ever seen. OK, so I was only 12 at the time, but still.
He was even better-looking than that Tom Cruise guy. And taller,
from the looks of it. I asked my mom who it was, and she revealed
his identity to me – Padres pitcher Greg Harris. He had served as a
celebrity waiter the day before as part of some fund-raiser, so he
was wearing a classy dress shirt and tie. Soon, we would be used to
seeing him in the horrendous brown and orange team uniforms. Much
like a young girl with a crush on a movie star who has to watch
every movie her man is in, I went on a search for all the
information I could get on Harris. My mom started the process by
giving me his Topps rookie baseball card (that’s worth about a dime
today) out of the collection she was working on for my 6-year-old
brother. That alone shows how cool of a mom she is. There aren’t
many moms out there who spend their money on baseball cards.
Instead, one always hears about moms throwing those cards away. But
to collect them and keep them in binders and everything? Wow. So,
my mom would drive me to all the baseball card stores within a
50-mile radius, in search of any Harris memorabilia we could find.
She would loan me money when my allowance couldn’t cover my new
expenses: anything with Harris or the Padres logo on it. My mom
would also tell me when the Padres games were on the television or
radio, let me read the newspaper sports section, and tell me when
the sports segment was on during the news. We started going to more
Padres games throughout the season, instead of just the annual Sky
Show game in September. And oh, the autograph sessions. I cannot
remember how many we went to during the offseason. My mom nurtured
this young infatuation, and by doing so, she changed my life. She
opened my eyes to the sporting world. By researching Harris’ life,
I would learn more about his job, this thing called "baseball." One
needs to be schooled in all the intricacies of the rules,
terminology, teams, the history of baseball to really understand it
– which is what I wanted to do, since this great-looking guy made a
life out of playing it, and I wanted to know everything about him.
And then we would soon learn that Harris also likes billiards,
basketball and golf. So that meant it was time to learn about those
sports. Overall, there was a whole chain reaction leading to an
increased interest in sports. My mom signed me up for the local
softball league just so I could play a sport that is similar to the
one Harris plays. She took me along to my brother’s T-ball games
and practices, where the two of us would socialize with other moms
and sisters. Once I got interested in basketball, it was a family
outing to my brother’s youth basketball activities. There was a
sport to love in each season. So, over the past seven years, my mom
and I have developed a relationship very similar to that between a
father and son, when it comes to sports. If we can’t think of
anything else to talk about, at least we have baseball. We talk
about our favorite teams (the Padres, Braves, Bruins and my
brother’s Pony League squad) on the phone every week. We get into
great "discussions" when our two major-league teams face each
other, trying to build up how our team is going to smash the other
one to pieces. She tells me every detail about my brother’s most
recent games since I can’t be there to watch them. But it doesn’t
matter. Hearing my mother recount my brother’s offensive exploits
on the baseball diamond or clutch play on the basketball court is
almost as good as being there to see them myself. She truly loves
the sports. And it is for this love of the games that I must thank
her, for she has passed it along to me. Although the love
originated from rather silly beginnings while I was a crush-prone
girl, sports has gradually become a mainstay in my life, thanks to
the influence of one person, my mom. And for all of those fantastic
mothers out there who are getting their kids involved in sports by
signing them up for youth leagues, going to their games, and being
involved in general … Thank you, and Happy Mother’s Day! Wilcox
is a Daily Bruin assistant sports editor who is trying to figure
out where Greg Harris is these days. She can be reached via e-mail
at [email protected]. Christina Wilcox