In 1979, a rookie baseball writer was assigned to do a story on the defensive brilliance of Orioles shortstop Mark Belanger. As part of that story, the young, unspeakably stupid writer asked Belanger, "Can I look at your glove?" Belanger's brow pleated reflexively, then he said, "I would rather kill you than let you touch my glove."

He was kidding ... I think.

You never ever, ever, ever touch a baseball player's glove, especially an infielder's glove, and especially the glove of a really good middle infielder. Ruben Rivera didn't just touch Derek Jeter's glove, he stole it and tried to sell it. "If anyone put my glove on," said Harold Reynolds, who played 11 years at second base in the major leagues, "we were going to fight."

Tony Gwynn once said that the most personal item a player has is his bat, which is understandable coming from a lifetime .338 hitter. For most players, a glove is the most personal item, an extension of your hands, which are the most important part of a baseball player's body. "I would be more forgiving of someone breaking my bat than playing catch with my glove," Reynolds said. Early in his career when he was a defensive replacement -- his glove was his job -- he took it with him on airplanes. "They could lose my luggage, they could lose my underwear," he said, "but there's no way they'd lose my glove."

Roberto Alomar, the fabulous second baseman now with the New York Mets, went to his locker last year, picked up his glove and put it on. "Someone's hand has been inside my glove," he said. He looked around the clubhouse and asked, "Who put my glove on?" He was not happy. "You can't put someone else's glove on, you mess up the pocket, the feel, everything," he said. "If anyone puts my glove on, I can tell right away. It has a different feel."

Former Orioles second baseman Billy Ripken didn't allow anyone to touch his glove. "[Pitcher] Bob Milacki -- Big Bird -- put his big old hand in my glove once. He had it on for 10 minutes, and it had a totally different feel. I used to not wear a batting glove under my glove, because I liked the feel of my hand in it. But he stretched it out when he put his hand in there, so I had to wear a glove under it. Pitchers are the guys who usually pick up someone's glove because they don't care, they can pitch with someone else's glove. Position players might ask, 'Do you mind if I touch your glove?' And the answer usually is 'Yeah, I do.' Only my hand goes in there."

Andy Van Slyke, the former Gold Glove center fielder for the Pirates, didn't allow anyone to touch his glove, either. "If someone else put my glove on, then I put it on, it felt like there was cottage cheese in there," he once said. Van Slyke used to pack his equipment bag personally, finding the safest possible spot for his glove. And no one was allowed to unpack his bag; he didn't want anyone handling his glove.

Rene Gonzalez, a highly skilled infielder for several teams, used to carry his glove around in a Wonder Bread bag. Why? "Wonder's slogan for their bread is 'No Holes,'" he said. "I figured 'no holes in the bread, no holes in my glove.' You don't take chances with your glove."

Diamondbacks center fielder Steve Finley is very particular about his glove, but it's mostly an infielder thing. In 1990, Cardinals center fielder Willie McGee and Giants outfielder Kevin Bass shared a glove during a game: when the inning ended, McGee would leave it on the field, and Bass would come pick it up. "And worse than that," said Giants catcher Terry Kennedy, "it was a blue glove." In the early days of baseball, players sometimes shared gloves. Routinely, they'd leave their gloves on the field when it was their turn to bat. "Can you imagine Robby Alomar playing in the old days?" says Rockies third-base coach Rich Donnelly. "Can you imagine some guy leaving an A2000 outfielder's glove, one of those real big ones, for him to play second base? I don't think that'd work today."

Catchers, like infielders, are very specific about their mitts. Years ago, when someone else had to warm up a pitcher between innings, he would simply toss the mitt to the starting catcher when he arrived at the plate. No more. When was the last time you saw that at a major-league game? Former Pirates catcher Mike LaValliere used his catcher's mitt -- his gamer -- only for games. He had a separate one for infield practice. During batting practice, he shagged with a fielder's glove. Former Rangers/Orioles manager Johnny Oates was also very peculiar about only him using his catcher's mitt. Years after retirement, it came in handy when he had a case of hemorrhoids. "I sat on my mitt," he said. "My mitt provided great relief."

Occasionally, a player's glove would break or rip, equivalent to an Internet expert losing the capability of his computer. Bob Patterson, a former reliever for the Pirates, Cubs, Rangers and Angels, was known as the Glove Doctor: if someone's glove broke, he would fix it. "He's coming to my house Saturday," Donnelly, a former teammate once said, "to reupholster my couch." By the time Patterson got to the Angels, players from opposing teams would bring their gloves to him to fix. "There would be a stack of gloves at his locker," Reynolds said. "My glove was in such bad shape once, he fixed it by putting a coat hanger in it. Leaving your glove with someone is a worse feeling than leaving your dog at the vet."

Patterson said former Pirates teammate Jay Bell was especially squeamish about leaving his glove with the Doctor, but he always fixed it. With the Cubs, Patterson routinely fixed Mark Grace's first baseman's mitt every spring because shortstop Shawon Dunston's throws would rip it open; Patterson inserted an extra bar of leather, which prevented that. Besides the occasional coat hanger, he often used tounge depressors to firm up and fix gloves.

"I really enjoyed it," says Patterson. "It gave me something to do for the first six or seven innings of a game -- 162 games is a lot of games to sit in the bullpen. I still have a planter's wart on my left forefinger from pulling those laces. But, it was worth it. I used to tell the players, 'The only payment for this service is catching the ball.' "

Tim Kurkjian is a senior writer for ESPN The Magazine and a regular contributor to Baseball Tonight. E-mail tim.kurkjian@espnmag.com.