"I feel so betrayed."

The statement was startling because of its anger and because the source -- my normally forgiving mom -- who almost never gets worked up.

The target of her anger was equally surprising: David Eckstein, the Cardinals' diminutive shortstop and World Series hero.

He's probably the most beloved man in all of St. Louis.

"That little [expletive deleted,]" she said, almost growling.

The outburst was even more bizarre considering Eckstein is my mom's favorite player. She even has a No. 22 jersey that she wears proudly to the games.

And up to this point the bond seemed much stronger than the normal fan-player adoration. You see, Eckstein's family and ours share the same life-threatening affliction: polycystic kidney disease.

PKD, as it is commonly known, affects 600,000 Americans. It's a hereditary disease which results in kidney cysts that eventually cause the organs to cease functioning. People diagnosed with the disease must either receive a transplanted kidney (you only need one to live), undergo regular blood cleaning with a dialysis machine or die slowly.

Of my mom's three brothers, one received a transplant from a cadaver last Friday when his kidney function was only 14 percent of normal, another has the disease in its early stages and a third may eventually need a transplant but has complicating factors because of heart trouble.

My grandmother lived for more than 10 years with no kidney function and had to travel to a dialysis center four times a week to undergo the grueling ordeal of having her blood filtered. She died last year.

So it was natural that my mom would latch on to Eckstein, who had three siblings and a father who survived the disease due to transplants. Eckstein even started a charitable foundation and plans a walk to raise awareness and money for a cure.

So what changed her mind? One week before Tuesday's election, Eckstein joined a cadre of athletes from Missouri who oppose stem-cell research. They call themselves "athletes with moral convictions," and participated in an ad campaign opposing Amendment 2.

My mother, for ideological as well as personal reasons, supports stem-cell research. PKD sufferers, she hopes, would benefit greatly from the scientific advances that could eventually grow organs like kidneys. The benefits, which all sides agree are many years off, could put an end to the months and years of agonizing wait-time for an organ donor with a matching blood type.

As I'm writing this I have no idea whether the amendment has passed. I'm also not trying to say one side is completely right and the other completely wrong, although the moral arguments against the research are quite flimsy and usually confused.

What I'm attempting to do is illustrate some of the other factors that go into a vote like this.

How can one guy, whose only claim to our attention is his ability to run around a baseball diamond, bring so much positive attention to a disease and potentially do so much harm to finding a cure?

Bizarre.

Whenever I'm unsure about an issue, I look to the experts in that field and see what they have to say. The life-science researchers of Washington University and other places of learning are nearly unanimous in stressing the need for this amendment. I hope their voices carry more weight than all the quarterbacks, shortstops, pitchers and belly itchers who want to defeat it.

TJ Greaney is a staff reporter for the Southeast Missourian.