I’M FIGHTING TOBACCO FOR MY DAD, MR. PADRE

Since I was a young man, my health, both mental and physical, have been integral to who I am as a person. I understood that full body health, and caring for it, takes work, and an understanding that every decision we make impacts other parts of our bodies. Think of the old children’s song, “The toe bone’s connected to the foot bone, the foot bone’s connected to the ankle bone,” and you will get it.

My family never took our health for granted. In fact, it was inherent in all aspects of our life, from daily pickup basketball games with friends, to my sister and I playing multiple sports at Poway High School, to incorporating healthy activities into our off-season getaways. We not only understood the importance of health, we enjoyed and respected the many gifts it presented us. And, unfortunately, we also came to understand how fragile our health, and

Gwynn Jr. is a San Diego Padres broadcaster and former Major League Baseball player. He lives in Poway. our lives, really were.

My dad was our rock. He was our hero, our leader, and he was seemingly invincible. Who could have imagined that the one foe he could not defeat would arrive in a small tin can that easily fit into his back pocket.

My father, Tony Gwynn Sr., became addicted, like so many other Americans, to tobacco. His preferred method of use was, as the can suggested, putting a chunk of tobacco between his cheek and gums.

He started using smokeless tobacco as a youngster, inspired by the fun and enticing advertising for the products (which seemingly appeared everywhere kids were watching), and by spotting his favorite pro athletes coolly gnawing a large chunk of the stuff before performing miraculous feats on the baseball field. Once he tried it, the product did what it was manufactured to do — addict him to lifelong use.

Later in life, Dad started learning more about the dangers of smokeless tobacco and thought quitting would be the right thing to do. He tried. Over and