Matt Jones hasn't played baseball since Little League. Even then, his time on the field was limited. "I was the guy who went in when we were winning or losing by 10 and I'd end up in right field," he said. So the Major League dream died quickly. It happens. At least he can follow baseball.

Right?

"I'm not that big of a baseball fan at all," he said.

Jones would have trouble picking Derek Jeter out of a police lineup. Don't ask him to list the top five hitters in the game. He couldn't name one.

Yet, as he performed his duties Thursday as an image processor at Bloomington's State Farm Insurance Regional Office, baseball had a place in his heart, his mind.

The 29-year-old Jones follows one baseball player. His brother, Todd Jones, is the ace reliever for the Detroit Tigers, who took on Jeter and the New York Yankees Thursday afternoon in Game 2 of their American League Division Series at New York.

Matt Jones was content to work his shift and go home to his wife and two children in Normal. He won't be going to Detroit this weekend either, when the series shifts there.

"He (Todd) says that's why he loves me so much because I don't care about baseball," Matt Jones said. "I'm not constantly asking him questions about it. We talk about other stuff.

"I follow him because he's my brother. Other than that, I couldn't tell you anything about anyone (in baseball)."

The 38-year-old Todd Jones saved 37 games in the regular season for the surprising Tigers. It was his fifth year with 30 or more saves since making his Major League debut with Houston in 1993. He pitched a scoreless ninth inning Thursday to preserve a 4-3 victory, the 264th save of his career.

Matt Jones is proud of his only sibling. Still, it's baseball.

"I told him, 'If you make the World Series, I'll go to that,' " he said. "That wasn't a big surprise to him when I said that."

Don't be misled. Matt Jones does make trips to Chicago and St. Louis when Todd plays there. Occasionally, he is escorted into the clubhouse prior to games and introduced to Todd's teammates.

"I don't have a clue who most of them are," Matt said. "He always jokes with them and says, 'This is my brother, and he doesn't give a crap about baseball.' "

Immediately, he is a hit.

The clubhouse is a place players can relax and be themselves. It is their escape from overzealous autograph seekers, etc. Matt Jones never requests a signature, or asks a baseball question.

"Right from the start, he (Todd) told me, 'When you're around me, you can't ask for autographs or act super excited. You have to just stay cool and be laid back,' " Matt Jones said. "I think that's paid off a lot."

Todd Jones delivered the message to his 12-year-old brother in 1989, after Todd was drafted in the first round by the Astros.

The brothers lived apart early on. Todd lived with his mother in Marietta, Ga., and Matt with their father, Bart, in Savannah, Ga., and later Spartanburg, S.C.

Ironically, they were brought closer by baseball. Once Todd began playing professionally, Matt Jones had an annual item for his Christmas list.

"I would ask for tickets to go and see him and hang out with him," he said.

Matt Jones used to travel to spring training and visit his brother, who has played for nine big-league teams. Now, they mainly hook up in Chicago and St. Louis.

They still "hang out," but away from the public eye.

"He doesn't like to go out of the hotel too much," Matt Jones said. "This year, especially, he couldn't take two steps without someone throwing something in his face to sign. People get rude about it at times.

"He always has a suite, so we sit in the hotel room and play Xbox all night."

Pretty tame stuff, but they're family. There is a similar connection for Bloomington's Jean Holt, whose nephew, Joe Mauer, is the star catcher for the Minnesota Twins. Holt traveled to Minneapolis this week to watch the Twins face the Oakland A's in an A.L. Division Series.

At 23, Mauer is just taking off on what promises to be a long career, winning the A.L. batting title this year. At 38, Todd Jones is nearer the twilight, though as a closer, every pitch remains crucial.

"He's always the hero or the zero," Matt Jones said. "If they lose, it's his fault. If they win, it's thanks to him. I always feel really good for him or really bad for him."

And only him.

Randy Kindred is a Pantagraph columnist. To leave him a voice mail, call 820-3402. By e-mail: rkindred@pantagraph.com . The Randy Kindred Blog is at www.pantagraph.com /blogs