The son put aside the spotlight to become… the person by his mother’s side
In December 2017, after two years playing for the Cardinals – the team that nurtured his MLB career – Stephen Piscotty requested a trade to the Oakland A’s. It wasn’t a tactical or financial decision. He just wanted to be closer to home, where his mother was living with amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (ALS) – a disease that had caused the strongest woman in his life to gradually lose control of her body.
Most Cardinals fans didn’t understand why a young, talented player would leave at the height of his career. But those who knew about it kept quiet. They knew this wasn’t a trade – it was a journey of being a son.
Gretchen passed away in May 2018. Piscotty took a few days off to attend the funeral. A few days later, he returned to the field – still in an A’s uniform, but with a heavy heart in mourning.
That game, in his first at-bat since his mother died, Piscotty hit a power homer. No celebration. No scream. Just red eyes looking up at the sky. The stadium fell silent.
“I know my mother was watching,” he said after the game. “And that swing… was for her.”
In the locker room that day – in the imagination of close friends – Piscotty sat alone, opening the old bag containing the glove his mother had given him on his debut. He said nothing, just touched the glove and whispered:
“I can’t keep you, Mom, but I can keep my promise.
Every swing from now on, you’ll be there for me.”
It wasn’t just an image. It was a heartbreaking but beautiful ritual – one that made fans no longer see him as just a player, but as a son who carried his promise into every swing.
Piscotty later received the Tony Conigliaro Award – an award that celebrates the spirit of resilience in overcoming adversity in MLB.
On forums, Cardinals and A’s fans left thousands of comments:
“Not every homer is a highlight. But that one – it went straight to the heart.”
“He didn’t swing for the win, he swung for the memory.”
Stephen Piscotty continued to play. But after that homer, people understood: he wasn’t just playing to win – he was playing to continue his mother’s dream.
And if today, you hear a hit from the West Side stands, maybe…
it’s the sound of a promise still being kept.