Wilson wistfully recalled that his first soul mate had a nice tan, leathery skin and a musky scent he found intoxicating. The two were inseparable for five years.
And his wife isn't even jealous. That's because the object of Wilson's affection was a Rawlings infielder's mitt he got when he was 5 years old.
"I don't think that glove left my side for five years," says Wilson, 28. "I carried it to school with me. As soon as we got home, we played baseball until dinner. It was with me when I went to bed.
"To be honest, I think I slept with my first glove every single night the first year I had it. Most kids that age have a teddy bear. I had my baseball glove to cuddle with."
Few connections are deeper and more intimate than the bond between ballplayers and their gloves. It's not merely a tool of the trade, it's an extension of the hand — a crafted piece of leather players rely on to scoop up grounders, haul in fly balls, catch 95-mph fastballs and, in the case of pitchers, prevent line drives from shattering their cheekbones.
A good glove, one that fits just right, can span a career.
"If you're a samurai, it's your sword," Wilson says.
Some players name their gloves, treating them as if they had personalities and feelings.
Angels outfielder Torii Hunter's current glove is called "Coco." Before Coco, there were Sheila, Vanity, Susan and Delicious, a glove he used in the minor leagues.
"I switch up," Hunter says. "When she's being disrespectful and doing what she's not supposed to do, like missing balls, I get rid of her and pick up another one."
How does he name the gloves?
"I might see a beautiful woman on TV or in a magazine," says Hunter, 35, "and that's the name of the glove."
Hunter has used the same Rawlings "Trapeze" model his whole career, replacing it every two or three years. He wore four different mitts winning his nine Gold Glove awards. He switched to Coco last August, when he moved from center field to right field.
Mizuno, Rawlings and Wilson are the largest glove manufacturers, each offering a variety of models ranging in price from $75 to about $400. Most major leaguers get at least two new gloves each spring — for free.
Former Oakland Athletics infielder Mike Gallego was so attached to his glove of eight years that he risked his life to rescue it as the 1989 earthquake rocked San Francisco's Candlestick Park before a World Series game.
"The power went out, there's complete havoc and people are yelling, 'Get out! Get out!'" recalls Gallego, now the A's third base coach.
"We're bumping into things, tripping over chairs and trying to get out of the stadium.
"I get halfway out there — I could actually see the parking lot by the door — and I realized, 'Oh, my God, my glove!' So I turn around and go against traffic back to the clubhouse, to the other side of the room.
"It's pitch black. At that moment, I didn't even think. Instincts just took over. I grabbed the glove and made my way back outside."