Why We Adore Major League Moms

No matter the country, culture or language, moms are special. As most of you know — and probably joke about — Latina moms are in a class of their own. We guarantee that behind almost every star pelotero, there is or was a compassionate and devoted woman who played a fundamental role in her child’s path to success. In many cases, it was mami or abuelita who shared their passion for béisbol and taught their children or grandchildren how to play and whom to root for. To celebrate Mother’s Day, we pay homage to three major league moms whose sons thrived because of TLC: talent, love and care.

By César Augusto Márquez

Queen of the House

There’s a King who reigns in the Northwest. A pitching monarch who rules with fastballs and such pinpoint control that he once even reached perfection. His kingdom spreads from Seattle, home of the Mariners, all the way to his birthplace of Valencia, Venezuela.

And it’s not an exaggeration to state that “King” Félix Hernández — a righty whose 156 victories in 13 seasons as of May 14 ties him with Freddy García as the winningest Venezuelan pitcher in MLB history — is widely admired and revered. But if there’s one place where he bows to a higher authority, it’s back home, where his mother, Miriam, still rules the roost.

She and Félix, Sr., raised four boys. Félix, Jr., who just turned 31, is the youngest. But because her husband was in the trucking business and frequently on the road, she will tell you — in very much the same firm manner she used with the boys — that she was the primary caretaker.

“I was in charge of raising my kids, 100 percent,” Miriam says. “We were a humble family with a father who worked long hours and was, at times, away for days, so I bore the responsibility of educating my sons.”

Miriam, 62, doesn’t mince words, so neither will we: She’s a character with a strong character.

“We knew that Félix was ready to sign a pro contract,” Miriam says. “The scouts were after him much before he was old enough. But I wouldn’t let him consider it until he was done with high school. I was afraid that he would get hurt, and only after he graduated did I allow him to turn pro.”

When it came to school and homework, Miriam was ever vigilant. Félix loved to sneak away to go play basketball, his other passion.

For Miriam, being a major league mom today is a breeze compared to the early days.

“We went through some hard times,” Miriam says. “We used to walk Félix to baseball practice because we didn’t have enough money for public transportation. That’s why it’s not hard to be the mother of a player.

“Of course, I miss Félix. But a day doesn’t go by in which we don’t talk.”

Star softball player, but no softie

Gregoria Torres loved softball. For 14 years, she played shortstop, first base and catcher for the Venezuelan National Team. She only gave up the sport when her oldest child, Miguel Cabrera, started sprouting into a baseball phenom.

“I played until Miguelito was seven,” Gregoria says. “I saw that he was turning into something special and decided to retire so I could watch him. I didn’t want to miss a thing.”

In the Cabrera household, someone was always playing something, somewhere.

“We loved sports in my family,” says Gregoria, who with her husband, Miguel Cabrera, had two children, “Miggy” and Ruth. “I had four brothers, and three played professional ball. I had three sisters, and two of them played softball with me. My niece Maigleth Torres plays second base for the Venezuelan National Team in baseball. My nephew Mike Torres played rookie ball (in 2016) for the Detroit Tigers.”

No wonder Miggy has become one of the best hitters of his generation, if not in history — a four-time batting champ, a Triple Crown winner (2012) and two-time MVP. But, according to Gregoria, he was one impulsive decision away from leaving their home in Maracay to be a star volleyball player in Switzerland.

“Miguel inherited our love for sports,” she says. “He’s a karate yellow belt and was an outstanding volleyball player. Because his father and I were always afraid that he would get hurt, Miguel played volleyball behind our backs. He was so good that he was offered a scholarship to study in Switzerland. When his coach asked why we refused it, we told him that we had very good reasons. We knew about his potential in baseball and how much interest there was in him. We knew he would turn pro.”

Gregoria raised Miggy and his sister Ruth the same way she trained and played, with military discipline.

“Miguel never gave me problems, thank the Lord,” she says. “His father and I raised him with values. If he stepped out of line, one look would be enough for him to straighten up. Once, after signing his pro contract, when he was 17, he had an argument with his sister. Even though he was supposed to play that night with the Aragua Tigers, I ordered him to his room until he apologized to his sister. That was one of the most severe punishments he ever received.”

And which would be the best gift she ever got from her son?

“Without doubt, the Triple Crown,” Gregoria says, her voice faltering.

And the hardest thing about being a major league mom?

“Not being there when your son falls sick.”

And the best gift you would like on Mother’s Day?

“Much health for Miguel. And peace for my country.”

Salvation through tortas

Every time her child had a game, Yilda Díaz went to the stadium at Club Deportivo Firestone to sell tortas and earn extra money to supplement her income.

Salvador “Salvy” Pérez, a four-time All-Star catcher for the Kansas City Royals, was raised as an only child by a single mother in Bocaína, a poor neighborhood of Valencia. Yilda would always get up before dawn to take him to school on weekdays and to baseball practice on weekends.

“As a mother, I sacrificed a lot to get Salvador ahead,” says Yilda, today 50. “When he was eight, I divorced his father, who never again helped us financially. I was forced to make a lot of sacrifices. I started cleaning the house of a doctor. And when Salva played ball, I sold tortas and lasagna in the stands so he could continue playing ball.”

“We had many needs,” she says. “But I couldn’t deprive him of what he loved most.”

Yilda and her mother, Carmen Díaz, who passed away in 2013, combined to give Salvador a loving environment that nurtured his development and game.

“My mother was my right hand when I raised Salvador,” Yilda says. “She helped me when I had to work. That’s how we got ahead.”

Salvador started playing when he was a pup, around 4½, and his love for the game has endured.

“When he was 12, many people knew that he was going pro,” Yilda says. “I didn’t want to kill his dreams, but I wanted him to continue going to school.”

Salvador finished high school at 15 and told his mother that he was done with academics.

“He graduated with honors,” she says, “but he handed me his medal and said, ‘No more school.’ I accepted — on the condition that if he didn’t do well in baseball after one year, he would return home to go to college and study education. He just cared about signing his contract, not really caring about the amount. He gave me his signing bonus so we could buy a house.”

The rest is history. Salvador, barely 27, has won four Gold Gloves and was voted the World Series MVP in 2015 when the Royals beat the New York Mets in five games. Yilda has stopped selling tortas and lasagna at the ballpark. Instead, she enjoys the game from her box seat at the Royals’ home park, Kauffman Stadium. For her, it’s Mother’s Day every day.

Featured Image: Diario El Aragueño / Miriam Hernández / Salvador Pérez

Inset Image: Miguel Cabrera Foundation