If there was a Sports Hall of Fame for mothers, it would have to be huge.
There would be large portraits of Annette Fisher, Bettye Williamson, Gladys Barrett, Diane Johnson, "Granny Fanny" Kleine and literally hundreds of other moms of pro and college athletes.
Almost all of the former and present professional athletes from Arkansas were heavily influenced by their moms. Some were influenced by their dads, too, but always with a loving but strict mom who never envisioned their son making millions playing games.
They were motivated by love.
As were the other moms who would have a wing of their own, the ones whose kids play sports for the fun of it, because it is a social activity and there are still good lessons that can be learned from playing sports.
My mom would be in that wing, although back in my day we rode our bikes to practices and games. It truly was a kinder, gentler era, a time when the parking lot at Lamar Porter Field had more bikes than cars.
Mom never encouraged or discouraged her only son, or her two daughters, from participating. She only insisted that we remember it was just a game and didn't pay the bills.
If we wanted a new baseball glove or new spikes or any other sports gear, we had to earn the money to buy it. So work ethic was instilled in us at an early age.
My dad once got in trouble because he was working 30 minutes to an hour before clocking in as a meat manager at Kroger just so he could make sure he got all his work finished.
My mom sold encyclopedias door to door and then Avon before going to "beauty school," where she learned to do ladies' hair. This was before hairstylists, back when men went to barbers and women went to beauticians.
For a while, her beauty shop was in the front of our house on South Pine.
That was during the same time I made the basketball team at West Side Junior High. One night mom took my ratty old uniform and sat down at her sewing machine, and when she was finished her son had the best looking uniform on the team, especially for the guy who sat at the end of the bench.
It was also the first time I was introduced to a real job. I became a newspaper delivery boy for the old Arkansas Democrat, which was an afternoon paper back then. It was during that junior high era that yours truly went to a party he shouldn't have and ended up at the juvenile detention center.
At, not in, because the police decided we hadn't broken any laws but that our parents had to pick us up.
When my mom and dad showed up, I could see the anger and disappointment in my dad's face. Truthfully, it wasn't him that I was worried about.
Mom had a sad look on her face, and when she got within a couple of feet I noticed a tear in her eye. That was right before she punched me in the nose. That's why I was worried about her. I deserved it. I had let her down.
It was a long time before there was another party in my life.
Not long ago I received a statement from the Social Security Administration. I have been paying taxes since 1965. My parents, especially my mom, expected everyone to work, go to church and do right.
Now Mom is 92. She has dementia and lives in a wonderful place, Fox Ridge in Bryant, but every Sunday we spend time together. Sometimes it is the same time from the week before and the week before that, but that's part of it.
Today she will be honored by our family, just as she was on her birthday last month, and it will continue at least once a week as long as she is alive because my mom is a Hall of Famer.
Sports on 05/10/2015