Baseball is a man’s game – or so they say. Although it is true that there are no professional female baseball players, in North America at least, the influence of women in the game is seen every time a team takes the field. We can’t measure it but we can see it and even feel it. That influence comes not just from women but from the inescapable world of baseball moms.

Last week ThinkBlueLA staff writer Ron Cervenka emailed me to inform me that the mother of one of the Dodgers’ top prospects had read one of my recent articles about her son and had given it a “Like” on Twitter. As a longtime and huge fan of the Dodgers’ minor league system, not only was I flattered by this but it also got me thinking and reminiscing. I wondered why this young prospect’s mom was reading about baseball even during the winter. Thinking back, I immediately knew the answer to this question.

We all know what dads do with their sons as they progress along their baseball paths which is one of the most difficult career choices in life. The path is littered with obstacles, some heartache and certainly some rewards. We know about dads, more often in the past two decades, because of the bloodlines that develop in the game. That is, sons who follow in their father’s footsteps striving to reach the highest level of baseball in the world. Fathers are often interviewed and sons speak of what they have learned from their fathers, who sometimes are also their coaches along the way.

However, we are now beginning to hear more and more the influence of moms on young baseball players. Young players in interviews acknowledge the support and sacrifice of the their mothers as well as their fathers. They are talking about their moms trying to make sure they are prepared for the rigors of minor league baseball by eating well, getting proper sleep and even making sure they have enough off-field clothes with them. Those moms are often seen at their games having traveled quite a distance to watch their sons play – especially in their major league debuts.

Corey Seager with his mom, dad and sister at his September 3, 2015 MLB debut.
(Photo credit – Jon SooHoo)

I never played baseball above the Babe Ruth League in my home town of Lunenburg, Nova Scotia. That meant as a young teenager my baseball career was over. However, during those years, I had a baseball mom, a Dodger Mom, in fact, and one similar to that of the young prospect mentioned above.

My mom died three years ago at age 92. My dad had died eight years earlier. I had the greatest dad in the world but my mom looked after all of my baseball needs. This is the story of my baseball mom – a Dodger Mom – with us living about 3,000 miles from Los Angeles.

Francis Uhlman
1920 – 2012

As a youngster and until 1958 the Dodgers were relatively close by in Brooklyn. I started my baseball adventure as a Dodger fan in April of 1952. My mom had picked out a radio for my birthday in March and on April 19th I found a Dodgers baseball game out of Brooklyn with Vin Scully – the voice of all voices – calling the game on the radio.

My mom gave me an RCA Victor radio similar to this one for my birthday in 1952. As a result, we both became huge Dodger fans. (Image courtesy of RadioMuseum.org)

Every night, and I mean every night, I was tuned in to a Dodger game. My mom always checked in before she went to bed to see how the game was going and to see if I needed anything. She never once questioned that I was listening late on school nights. There was a condition though, and that was that my school work had to be finished. It must have been, as I never got shut down from listening to a game.

During my years of little league and Babe Ruth League ball I played for the Indians and the Giants. I think I always had the cleanest and neatest uniform on the field. Mom washed my uniform after every game and even ironed it if necessary.

There was another ritual on game day that Mom attended to. She made sure I had a stick of Doublemint Gum to chew during the game. I never had to ask for it. It was just always there on the bureau with my uniform. There was also a second stick for my friend Bev who usually didn’t have any for the game.

Mom a came to all of my games even when it must have been inconvenient for her to do so. I know she suffered every time I came to bat trying to will a hit for me. I was sure-handed fielder, a speedy base runner but hits were hard to come by for me. No matter how the game turned out Mom always had a positive comment. She wouldn’t let me get down on myself.

So back to my Dodger Mom. As mentioned, Mom allowed me to listen to Dodger games out of Brooklyn even when there was a twi-night double header. The next morning she always asked about the game and especially how Duke did. Mom spoke of the other Dodgers as Pee Wee, Jackie, Campy using the same names I used in our conversations. I can recall trying to get downstairs before my brother and sister so I had Mom all to myself.

On occasion, Mom and Dad had to travel a distance with his work and they would get home late at night. Quite often upon waking up the next morning, I would find a “Sport” magazine on my pillow most likely with Duke Snider on the cover. Mom was something like a bloodhound sniffing out Duke items. I am sure she also brought something for my brother and sister, but anything they received paled in comparison to my treasure.

During the World Series before we had television, a group would gather at our house for the weekend games. There was a mixture of Dodgers and Yankees fans, probably ten in all. Mom always had something for us to eat and drink and pretty much let us have the room to ourselves, even though there was a strong probability of a food or drink mess on the floor and more importantly, on the furniture.

I can also recall having pictures of baseball players, mostly Dodgers, on the wall in my bedroom. At that time the walls were primarily covered with wallpaper and not painted, as most seem to be today. I was still permitted to tape the pictures on my wall or to use thumb tacks.

When I was about ten years old, for a while I was the coolest kid among the little league crew because on my t-shirts. I never knew where she found them but Mom brought me two t-shirts with “Beat ‘em Dodgers” on the front. No other kid had a t-shirt with a team name on it at the time. Needless to say, I wore them everyday until they were worn and washed to death.

Following the 1957 season the Dodgers moved to Los Angeles. As fate would have it, we also moved to Edmonton, Alberta for five years. Edmonton is only one time zone away from Los Angeles so I could easily keep informed of Dodger happenings on the west coast. Mom still continued to check in almost every day to see how the Dodgers were doing.

Naturally, our lives changed as I got married and started my own family. However, we were all reunited when we moved back to Lunenburg, Nova Scotia. Up until her death, my mom remained a “Dodger Mom.” She never stopped talking to me about the Dodgers although she primarily watched Blue Jay games.

Even though I was never blessed with baseball talent, I was blessed with a baseball mom – a Dodger Mom.