Preston Mattingly felt helpless as his mother battled alcoholism. Here’s how they discovered her ‘second life’ together.

Preston Mattingly still has the sweatshirt. It is old and gray and dirty, with red wine stains set into the fabric. They might come out in the wash, but that would defeat the purpose. He wants to hold those painful memories close. Sometimes, he needs a reminder of how far he and his mother have come.

It was his favorite sweatshirt. He wore it all the time, including one night in 2010, when he was standing on the back porch of his childhood home in Evansville, Ind. Mattingly was having a heated argument with his mother, Kim, over her drinking problem. He began to yell, and she splashed wine in his face.

He sat there for a while. He decided, in that moment, that he was done helping her. His life would certainly be easier. But he could never follow through.

Mattingly prided himself on fixing problems, and his mother’s alcoholism was the ultimate problem. Kim had been in and out of rehab since he was in high school. She’d been arrested for public intoxication, driving under the influence, and disorderly conduct. Her ex-husband, former Yankees star Don Mattingly, filed a protective order against her in 2008.

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She was depressed. When she was in rehab, she became bulimic. At one point, Kim weighed only 85 pounds. Mattingly had a solution to every problem but this one — which was maddening, because to him, it seemed like a simple fix. When she was anxious, she could just feel better. When she was drinking, she could just stop. To Mattingly, these were all choices his mother was making, to both her and her family’s detriment.

He has since realized that they are not choices. Mattingly, the Phillies’ farm director, now knows alcoholism is a disease. He knows bulimia is a disease, too. It took him a while to get to this point. But sitting in his office one morning in mid-March, with his mother by his side, you wouldn’t realize it.

Kim is 61 years old and five years sober. She no longer struggles with bulimia. She talks with her son almost every day, and like most mothers, she likes to give him grief. She says Preston, 35, has some of Donnie’s characteristics. They are both hard workers, they both treat people well, but the trait she focuses on most is their perfectionism.

“When she walked in here for the first time, she was like, ‘Oh my God, the water bottles in your fridge aren’t lined up perfectly?’” Preston said. “What a shock.”

“Yeah, I was like, ‘I better straighten up those things at the bottom,’” Kim said.

They don’t dwell much on the past. Kim and Preston made mistakes. Preston could have had more patience. He says his fiancée, Ellie, has helped him with that. Kim spent most of her adult life feeling like she let her three sons down. That guilt keeps her sober.

“For so long, I couldn’t forgive myself,” she said. “Because I felt like my sons were ashamed of me, for what I did. For what they had seen. I think any mother would have felt that way.”

Preston has told her that’s not remotely the case. Kim doesn’t have an American League MVP award, or 2,153 hits, or a retired number at Yankee Stadium, but in a way, he’s every bit as proud of his mother as he is of his famous father. There was a time when he wasn’t sure she’d live to see his wedding. Now, she is as healthy as she’s ever been.

I love my dad. He’s helped me a ton. But this is the story I think people should know.

“I have a lot of admiration for who she has become,” Preston said. “It’s almost like her second life. She’s so happy every day. That’s probably what I’m most proud of — how great a life she has. She’s had to overcome more than most people I’ve seen.

“I love my dad. He’s helped me a ton. But this is the story I think people should know.”

Don and Kim met when they were teenagers. Kim’s father, Dennis, was an assistant coach of a local American Legion team near Evansville. Don, who respectfully preferred to not be interviewed for this story, was one of his players. Kim would go down to the dugout to ask her father for sunscreen. This was less about protecting her skin and more about getting close to the team’s first baseman.

“The rest is history,” she said.

Don was 18 when they got married; Kim was 17. They didn’t have much of a grace period before he was shipped to the Yankees’ low-A affiliate in Oneonta, N.Y. Three years later, in September, he was called up to the big leagues, and the next season, in 1983, he stuck on the big league roster. He’d stay there for the next 12 years.

The transition from Evansville to the Bronx wasn’t easy. There were aspects of the Yankees lifestyle that Kim liked. She had a good relationship with owner George Steinbrenner, and enjoyed meeting former players, like Mickey Mantle. Her kids loved spending time at the ballpark — especially Preston. But it all came at a cost.

Don was a fan favorite. He was the humble son of a mailman, which appealed to hardworking New Yorkers. He had a sweet swing and a deft glove, but didn’t act like a superstar. At a time when the Yankees weren’t winning, he set a standard of professionalism and grace that would carry them to their glory years.

They were private people whose lives became very public. Don and Kim couldn’t go to a grocery store without being mobbed by crowds. Sometimes, fans would show up to their house in the middle of the night. It got so bad that the police needed to barricade their property.

When Don was going through a slump, fans would yell at Kim. When he returned to his normal, MVP-caliber self, she became an afterthought.

It was always chaotic. ‘Donnie Baseball’ this, ‘Donnie Baseball’ that. Hollering and screaming and pushing. I chose to use alcohol to try to quiet out some of the noise.

It wasn’t just that she was married to a celebrity. It was that she was married to a man who could do no wrong. She put pressure on herself to be perfect but was crushed by the weight. So, she started to drink.

“It was always chaotic,” she said. “‘Donnie Baseball’ this, ‘Donnie Baseball’ that. Hollering and screaming and pushing. I chose to use alcohol to try to quiet out some of the noise.

“Everywhere we went, it was a cocktail party. When he’d go on road trips, I’d get into a bottle of wine or something. I knew it was becoming a problem because I was doing it when he was gone. I was doing it when I was alone.

“My dad was an alcoholic. So was my mom. It was definitely prevalent within me. I swore within myself, growing up, that I would never be like that. But that’s what I did.”

The tabloids quickly caught on to her drinking habit, and the narrative changed. They weren’t high school sweethearts anymore. The story became about Don, the golden man, and his troublesome wife, who held him back in his career.

Don did the best he could, but their relationship got more fraught as the years went on. Kim developed bulimia while she was at a rehab center in 2005, and suddenly found herself battling not one but two diseases. In 2007, after 28 years of marriage, they filed for divorce.

Kim became severely depressed. In the months after the divorce, she would show up at Don’s home in Evansville late at night. One time, she tried to kick down his door. She grew closer with two of her children, Taylor and Jordan, but distanced herself from Preston. He thinks it’s because he reminded her of Don. She’d look at her son, who had her ex-husband’s eyes and smile and temperament, and she would feel shame.

When they did talk, it was adversarial. There wasn’t much of an existing relationship to lean on. Preston always aligned himself more with his father. They both liked playing basketball and baseball. His mother liked riding horses and spending time outdoors. They didn’t seem to have mutual interests.

He would beg her to stop drinking, and sometimes, she would. But that would last for only a few weeks or so. It stayed this way until 2015. She’d vomited so much that she needed surgery to reconstruct her esophagus. The doctors told her that if she kept drinking, she would die.

Preston keeps me honest. And to stay sober and to stay healthy, you have to stay honest.

One day, Preston was driving her home from an appointment. While they were stopped at a red light, he started to cry.

“I don’t know what to do anymore,” he told his mother. “Tell me what to do.”

Kim started to cry, too. It was a humbling moment. The boy she’d raised was breaking down because of her own addiction. From that moment on, she decided to find a solution. She moved in with some family friends who were involved in Alcoholics Anonymous. She began going to meetings two or three times a week, and still does to this day.

But above all, Kim forgave herself.

“I decided to just start a new life,” she said. “Not worry about anything from the past. That’s gone. That’s done. Wipe it clean.”

Preston has helped her do that. Because of Kim’s health problems, she developed some memory loss. Preston would make her a daily checklist, reminding her to brush her teeth, eat breakfast, and get some exercise. Now, she doesn’t need reminders. Kim spends most of her days going on walks, or running errands, or doing her crossword puzzles by the pool. She is happy in her new life.

“Preston keeps me honest,” she said. “And to stay sober and to stay healthy, you have to stay honest. You have to stay in the day. I can’t go back. And we don’t know what the future holds.”

For years, Kim hated baseball. It brought up painful memories. But in 2022, she began watching the Phillies’ playoff run. It reignited her love for the game. Kim sent Preston pictures of herself in a Phillies cap. Her favorite player was center fielder Brandon Marsh, whom she calls her “mountain man.”

“I felt like a little kid, watching games again,” she said. “I was like, ‘There goes my mountain man!’ He just seems so normal. I don’t like the prima donnas, you know? My ex-husband wasn’t like that.”

Her trip to Clearwater, Fla., this spring was the first time she’d seen Preston at work. She believes that player development is the perfect job for him. He sticks up for the underdog. He’s observant and kind. He gives second chances. She says he is like Don in that way.

In his seven seasons in baseball front offices, starting with the San Diego Padres, Preston has come to better appreciate mental health. He is proud of the work the Phillies have done to make it a priority, particularly in the minor leagues. Players have access to counseling, psychotherapy, and psychiatric support. The Phillies now have a mental health department, headed by a board certified psychiatrist.

Everybody deserves a second chance, and some are afraid to take it. ... I’m very blessed that I did.

It’s all about giving resources to those who want help. Preston knows there is no such thing as a perfect person or a perfect family. He has the wine-stained sweatshirt to prove it. But he also knows that if you replace judgment with empathy, frustration with patience, anger with kindness, you might just change a life.

“Everybody deserves a second chance, and some are afraid to take it,” Kim said. “They don’t think they will have the support. I’m very blessed that I did.”

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