Son Ran Different Route Than Father

Father’s Day, 1996. A day when, traditionally, dear old Dad gets the tie that lights up, the soap on a rope or the nifty statue of the Venus De Milo with a clock in her belly.

But it occurs to me that one group of sons will be giving Pop something more unconventional--triples, doubles, home runs, stolen bases, circus catches, MVPs and RBIs.

You see (with apologies to Ernest Hemingway), this is the decade in sports of “The Son Also Rises.” The empire of the Rising Sons. And the That’s-My-Boys. Son-shine.

Players didn’t used to come in generations. There was no Babe Ruth Jr., but there is a Ken Griffey Jr. There never was a sequel to Ty Cobb’s life. No Lou Gehrig II. No remake of the Rogers Hornsby Story.

Now, the dugouts are full of them.

Ken Griffey Jr. may be the best player in baseball, as many think. But Ken Griffey Sr. wasn’t bad. He was a member of the Big Red Machine at Cincinnati in the ‘70s.

Junior has more power. He hit 45 home runs one year and has 211 lifetime. Pop had 21 one year and 152 lifetime. But Dad’s lifetime average was .296, Junior’s is .302.

If Ken Griffey isn’t the game’s best, some people think maybe Barry Bonds is. OK, Barry, son of Bobby, pretty much validates the game as a Bonds market. Young Master Bonds is a replica of the original. He has hit 30 homers and stolen 30 bases three times in his career. Dad did it six times. Barry has hit 310 homers to date. Dad hit 332 in his career. Barry is hitting .286 for his career. Dad hit .268.

But when it comes to chips off the old block, you also have to throw Jack Thomas Snow Jr. into the scenario. Now, you won’t find Jack T. Snow Sr. in any Spalding guides or “The Baseball Encyclopedia.” But he was a great athlete, all right. Just ask anybody who did cheer, cheer for old Notre Dame. When Jack Snow was at South Bend, Irish eyes were smiling from end zone to end zone and you could hear the angels sing. He caught 60 passes for 1,114 yards and nine touchdowns and a 19-yard average one year. He finished fifth in the Heisman balloting that year and his quarterback won the Heisman, which tells you something.

He played 10 years for the Rams and was the leading pass catcher in several of them. He caught 51 passes for 17 touchdowns in 1970 and 49 passes for six touchdowns in 1969.

Now, a doctor wants his son to be one too. An airline pilot wants his son to fly, a minister wants his to preach. So, you would think J.T. Snow, the father, would want his son to become another family member of the Fighting Irish. Shake down the thunder and all that.

J.T. probably could have. He was an above-average quarterback in high school. Offers came in from Oregon State, Brigham Young, Long Beach State. UCLA offered to let him be a “walk-on,” i.e., no scholarship. Notre Dame’s Lou Holtz finally came around to make an offer for the son of one of the school’s greats, but he was too late. “Coach Holtz is no fan of left-handed quarterbacks,” young J.T. says, laughing.

Meanwhile, Arizona was weighing in with no-condition scholarship offers. To play baseball.

Jack Snow, the father, had no objections. As long as this twig didn’t fall too far from the tree. As long as he was a first-class athlete.

J.T. is. He is a member of the potent middle-of-the-lineup attack of the Angels, a Gold Glove first baseman with good power. And he is as dependable as sunrise. This Snow is no flake.

In a way, Dad saw to it. “He said, ‘If you’re going to be a baseball player, be a good one,’ ” his son remembers. “He used to bring a bucket of balls and throw them. If I missed one, he would fill the bucket up again. And I would have to keep hitting till I hit every one. “

A streak hitter today, there are times when he is the Abominable Snowman. But there are others when he is an avalanche burying the league. He drove in 102 runs last year. He hit 24 homers and 22 doubles.

A natural left-hander (he throws and eats lefty), he made himself into a switch-hitter to gain an edge on the pitchers. “He never quits learning,” his manager, Marcel Lachemann, says. “He’s an outstanding defensive player and a good, solid big league player. The kind of guy you can win the pennant with. He’ll do his part.”

They used to say that about Dad, too, when he was loping through zone defenses in the NFL.

Any regrets he didn’t go the gridiron route? J.T. the Younger shakes his head. “I took the right sport for me,” he insists.

Some years ago, Fresco Thompson, then vice president of the Dodgers, interviewed a two-sport prospect the team wanted to recruit. The boy told him, “Mr. Thompson, I’m torn between a career in football or baseball. I can’t decide which way to go.” Fresco looked at him. “What do you want, kid?” he asked. “A career or a limp?”

Did this enter young Snow’s decision? J.T. shakes his head. “I just went where I felt I had the best chance.”

The Angels are glad he did. He’s apt to be their first baseman for years to come.

And he’s just as much a poster boy for Father’s Day as any Bonds or Griffey. As for the Angels, they just hope the future will be one big Snow Job and the forecast will be “occasional Snow flurries at the upper levels--followed by intermittent World Series.”