A previous post has got me thinking: Any time I've heard a story about a father's glove, it's always an A2000, and the glove is almost a mystical being. I know there's an attachment between a ballplayer and his glove, but what makes the old A2000 so special to you dad's that make it a relic of unimaginable wealth?
Dad's, or those with these old A2000's, have their reasons for protecting this glove. It's usually known as "Dad's glove" and is never touched by a child unless given permission by their father. Sometimes the "rebel" child might sneak it out for a catch with some friends while dad's at work. Sometimes it is hidden from the kids except for those times in the early evening when dad plays catch with the kids. There's always a certain aura that the older A2000's have.
Let me just say that I love it! The A2000 was my glove of choice when I was old enough for one, but there's still something really special about my dad's. My dad still has his A2000 from high school, and I'd swear he still sleeps with it under his pillow and talks to it. It was used once each by my two brothers and I as we went through high school. I'll never forget the morning of the day it was my turn. I was a catcher and figured I'd never get to use the glove in a game, but as fate would have it, we had a two inning continuation to finish up and no pitchers available to throw as we had a game the day before and a game after the completion of that game. I volunteered to pitch, coach said fine, dad unexpectedly threw me his glove as I walked out the door for school that day. I don't know if he was more proud of me stealing a W on the mound, or of his glove making it out onto the field almost 30 years after he'd first used it. I don't know if I remember anything specific about that day other than I couldn't believe I got to use that glove, let alone get to use it in a game. There was also the fear that I'd lose it somewhere between the locker room and the field and I'd have to tell dad about it.
It was the glove he wore when he taught me how to catch and throw. It was the glove he wore the morning I left for a summer in Latin America to play some ball while I was in college. As I sat on an airplane bound for Texas, I had tears in my eyes when I thought about that moment (we hadn't played catch for a few years before that morning). That glove, as much as it was a part of his playing days, it was a part of every one of mine, as well. Maybe that's it. Maybe it's the passing on of the game that makes the old A2000s so special.
Any other A2000 stories out there?
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