LOS ANGELES – The lights at Dodger Stadium were still bright last night, the cheers were still as loud as ever, but for Mookie Betts, time seemed to stop for a few seconds after he opened his phone before taking the field. A text message from his sister, just four words: “Mom has cancer.”
And so… his world, the All-Star, the World Series champion, collapsed right at the height of his career.
“I don’t know how I played. I don’t remember the game,” Mookie said in a hoarse postgame press conference. “All I know is, my whole mind is my mom sitting on the couch, holding my hand when I didn’t even know how to hold a bat.”
Mookie’s mother, Diana Collins, taught him his first pitch, drove hours to get him to practice as a kid, and never missed a major league game. But now she has been diagnosed with terminal pancreatic cancer—a disease that is silent, deadly, and cruel.
“I lost my dad when I was a kid. My mom was my world,” Betts said. “I just wish I had enough time for her to see me win one more championship. Just one more.”
After the news broke, the Dodgers observed a moment of silence before practice the next day, and MLB quickly expressed its sympathy. Fans left thousands of messages on social media with the hashtag #ForMookieAndMom, along with an image of his No. 50 jersey draped in a purple ribbon — the color that symbolizes pancreatic cancer.
Manager Dave Roberts said Betts will miss the next few games to return to Nashville to be with his mother.
“We lost a key player for a few weeks, but his world is losing more,” the coach said, tears welling up in his eyes.
Betts’ wife, Brianna, shared that Betts is planning a secret intrasquad game at his home in Nashville, so his mother can see her son play one last time — right in the yard where it all began.
“If it’s the last time my mom sees me pick up a bat, I want it to be beautiful,” Mookie wrote in a note shared with the media.
In a world of trophies, statistics, and million-dollar contracts, Mookie Betts reminds us that after every home run, there’s always someone waiting at home. And sometimes, the most important thing isn’t winning… it’s letting someone love you, being proud of you one last time.