Rob Bradford
As usual, Mother knew best.
In this case, Diana Betts' mandate for her son, Mookie, was simple: no football.
"I thought he could succeed," she said, "but I had my reasons."
The explanation wasn't difficult to decipher. Young Mookie wasn't a big kid, but did have a bright athletic future. Basketball? No problem. Baseball? Absolutely. But, football, even with all that talent? In Diana's eyes, not a chance.
"I told him if he went to practice we were going to have an issue," she said when remembering Mookie's last-ditch effort to play as a junior at John Overton High in Nashville, Tennessee. "I just didn't want him going against my word."
The decision worked out for Betts -- in more ways than even Diana could have imagined.
Obviously Mookie went on survive his high school athletic career without incident, ultimately being taken by the Red Sox in the fifth round of the 2011 draft. But something else came out of the chosen path -- the opportunity to define his character, with an introduction to the world of weightlifting without the hazards that came with being tackled on a regular basis.
Thanks to Diana's decision, Mookie became the real-life water boy, and eventually one of the hottest young players in Major League Baseball.
"I spent four years as water boy because all my friends played. I was the real water boy. I traveled with the team," Betts said. "I was always there. All my friends played and it was a way to be around it. I had no shame in it. Sometimes when I was walking around people would make jokes, but I didn't care.
"I filled up all the water bottles. I made sure everybody had what they needed. If they needed something out of the locker, I got it. If they needed something with the buttons on their chin straps I took care of it. But I got to be around all my buddies and got in the games for free."
"He was supporting his friends, and his friends were supporting him, and they were a good group of kids," Diana said. "I felt good about that."
By the time his high school career came around, Betts had already shown an ability to thrive in multiple athletic settings. He was starring in baseball, basketball, and even bowling. So when his group of friends started playing football for John Overton High, the temptation to join was obvious, especially considering the need the Bobcats had for a signal-caller.
"We were looking for a quarterback in his freshman year. We were struggling a little bit," said John Overton assistant football coach Mike Morrison, who also served as the varsity baseball coach. "The first night of the regular season one of the referees came up to us and said, 'You know you guys have the best quarterback in the city.' I was like, 'Who in the heck is that?' We were struggling to find who was going to play even in our junior and season class. And he said, 'That kid over there, the Betts kid.' I turned around and Mookie is on the sideline throwing. That was kind of funny to see.
"He never minded getting down there on a Friday night. He just wanted to be down in there with his buddies. But he didn't mind squirting water and all those things. Not one moment did it ever embarrass him."
There was, however, an unexpected payoff for the water boy -- access to the weight room.
Because he was around the weightlifting football team, an introduction to the art of strength training was made. It wasn't as if there were huge strides made in terms of reaching of new levels of fitness. Basketball and baseball seasons always would curtail whatever strides were made in the weight room as a water boy. But the introduction had been made.
"That was the only time I got to lift," he said, "during football season."
Betts was always strong enough in high school, hitting a handful of home runs. But once he got to professional baseball, it was clear the 156-pound frame wasn't going to cut it. That's when he realized his days of relying on throwing around a few weights as a water boy just wasn't going to cut it.
First through the Red Sox' weightlifting program, and then via his six-day-a-week work at "The Training Corner" in Nashville with former NFL player Deon Giddens, Betts got bigger. The payoff was defined just before the start of the 2014 season when he bench-pressed 275 pounds (125 pounds more than his high school best), while tipping the scales at 20 pounds heavier than his first day as a pro.
"Everybody thought I couldn't hit home runs, but I never had a problem. I did in the park league and in the summers. So I thought it would carry over, but it doesn't," he said. "When they throw 95 mph and you weigh 155 with no muscle, the ball will take over your bat. So I had to start lifting weights."
"We would kid around that he would blow away," Morrison said. "But he had basketball and then that ran into baseball so he didn't have an opportunity to lift a whole lot. But you really saw the difference after he signed. The first year after his first year of ball he said he had to get stronger. Then you could tell his body changed. But he always had those fast-twitch muscles."
Betts already has hit four home runs to go along with seven doubles and a triple. That comes after a minor league career in which he totaled 26 homers in 298 games. The media guide might still have him listed as his water boy weight (155 pounds), but he knows better.
"I'm not that small," he laughed. "Give me something. I know I'm small, but shoot."
No matter. From water boy to weightlifter to the wide world of big league baseball.
"It's worked out," Diana said with a chuckle. "I'm proud of him."
