Glove of the Series: Modesto Roadsters and Father’s Day

Glove of the Series: India's Pink Heart of the Hide Pro Baby

by Kyle Robinson

The Ballers welcome the Modesto Roadsters to Raimondi Park this weekend for a short three-game series for the first time ever. That's notable in itself. In a league where six-game series were the norm, the three-game series this season can feel like a quick stopover. Blink and it's over.

The Roadsters in their inaugural season in the Pioneer League bring one of the more unique identities in professional baseball with them. The name pays tribute to Modesto's deep connection to cruising culture, classic cars, and the era immortalized in American Graffiti. While the Roadsters identity itself is new, professional baseball has been played in Modesto for generations, making this less a new beginning than the latest chapter in a long baseball story.

Sometimes the shorter visits make you appreciate things a little more. Which feels fitting for Father's Day weekend. Because the glove I keep thinking about this week isn't mine.

Long before she was born, we were going down the same checklist that all soon-to-be parents do. Bottles. Diapers. A crib. A changing table. Car seats. Baby monitors. An endless list of things I was told we would need. Ultimately, aside from the “Baby Shusher Sleep Miracle” as they call it, most of them turned out to be right.

But somewhere during one of those late-night feeds with a newborn,  it occurred to me that there was one thing I knew she would need, especially with me as her dad.

A glove.

So naturally, I started looking. Eventually, somewhere on eBay, SidelineSwap, or one of the many corners of the internet where baseball gloves seem to find me, I came across it. A miniature pink Heart of the Hide. Fastback. Basket web. Tiny. Perfect.I bought it before she was even old enough to know what baseball was.

I bought it before she was old enough to know what anything was. And that might be why I love it so much.

Miniature gloves have existed for decades. Some started life as sales samples for sporting goods representatives. Others became souvenir pieces or autograph gloves carried around spring training complexes and ballparks. Most were made to be displayed. This one had only one job—someday, play catch.

It wasn't practical. It wasn't necessary. It certainly wasn't on any parenting checklist. It was pure optimism. The belief that someday we'd play catch. The belief that someday she'd sit next to me at a ballpark. The belief that baseball would become one of the things we shared.

Over the years, I've accumulated gloves with fascinating histories. The Trap-Eze that accidentally started the collection, the TT2 that turned me into a collector, the Brooks Robinson lineage that first made me appreciate how baseball passes ideas from one generation to the next, among a slew of other pieces with just enough story to catch my eye. Gloves connected to Hall of Famers, baseball history, and stories much bigger than themselves. But if you asked me which glove means the most, I'd probably reach for the little pink one. Because every glove in my collection tells a story. That one tells hers, or maybe ours.

She's already carried it to the ballpark. Already walked around with it hanging off her wrist. Already claimed it as her own. And if I'm lucky, there are still a lot more baseball memories left to fit inside a very small glove.

The Roadsters are only here for three games. A short visit. A quick stop. The kind of thing you learn to appreciate while it's happening. Parenthood has a way of teaching the same lesson. The teams will play each other 24 times this season, so there’s a lot more to come. I hope she teaches me the same lesson.

This weekend, the Roadsters come to town, and it’s Father's Day.

And for the first time in this series, the glove of the week isn't really about baseball history. It's about why baseball matters in the first place.

Kyle Robinson is a transplanted Texan with a lifelong passion for the game of baseball. Residing in Oakland with his wife Randi, their daughter India, and a menagerie of pets. When he’s not slyly convincing his wife to name their pets after legendary baseball broadcasters (e.g. our corgi Milo Hamilton Robinson) he is probably balancing parenthood with trying to cram in as much baseball as possible. Whether it’s keeping the dream alive as a weekend warrior behind the dish, or on the sideline as a coach, volunteering, rest assured he has baseball on the brain. Find him on Instagram: @krob452