It isn’t an exact science raising your kid to be a superstar, but here’s one idea: Don’t try it.

The harder you do, the harder they’ll fall, and that’s why you’re better off taking the Burroughs approach: Pizza for dinner every night!

There are two types of child prodigies -- the Todd Marinovich’s of the world and the Sean Burroughs’ of the world -- and if you’re wondering who got it right, here’s a hint: One’s in the National League, and one was in the California Penal League.

Actually, Marinovich -- in and out of jail for an assortment of drug charges -- was last seen playing arena football, but that wasn’t exactly what his dad Marv had drawn up. Marv raised his son to be a star NFL quarterback, had him lifting weights as a toddler and forced him to eat only organic foods. Todd rebelled by going secretly to McDonald's -- certainly no crime -- but later, as a Raider, Todd rebelled by secretly smoking reefer. That is a crime.

Sean Burroughs is the antithesis of this. He was raised on nachos.

Burroughs may have been the Little League World Series hero of 1992 and 1993, and he may have been the son of a former American League MVP, and it may have looked like baseball was forced down his throat. But mom and dad didn’t mean it all to happen.

It’s not their fault that, at the age of 2, Sean ripped off his inflatable floaties, dove in the pool and swam.

It’s not their fault that he did his first chin-up in pre-school.

It’s not their fault that, as a 4-year-old, he’d hit wiffle balls over neighborhood fences.

It’s not their fault that he slammed the ball so hard in Little League that parents of the opposing teams asked their sons to wear batting helmets in the field.

Jeff and Debbie Burroughs just wanted their kid to have fun -- and about five meals a day. Debbie, half-Italian, fed him pasta and deep-dish pizza, which is why he was the fattest kid on the team. "The stereotypical chubby kid is clumsy and ostracized," says Larry Lewis, Sean’s Little League coach. "Except Sean wasn’t clumsy."

Ten years later, what we have is one of the more talented, light-hearted rookies in the major leagues. Sean Burroughs is not only the chiseled starting third baseman of the San Diego Padres, but he is also living proof that hands-off is hands down the way to go for parents.

It is he, himself, who finally decided to get in a weight room and get rid of his gut.

It is he, himself, who won the Padres' mile run at spring training this year -- by nearly a minute.

It is he, himself, who adores baseball to the point that he never wants to leave Qualcomm Stadium.

"The other night, we were sitting in the coaches office after a game," says Padres general manager Kevin Towers. "Phil Nevin, Ryan Klesko, Trevor Hoffman, our broadcaster Rick Sutcliffe, Boch [manager Bruce Bochy] and myself are having a beer in there, and he comes walking in swinging a bat. Just comes walking in there. And Boch goes, ‘Hey, you don’t drink beer do you?’ He says, ‘Hell, I drink beer.’ Grabbed a Coors Light out of the ice bucket and starts drinking. Like he was gonna be there a while.

"And in his back pocket, he had a big old box of batting gloves. And then we thought it was beer cans in his front pocket, but it was tape for his wrist. He’s just walking around the clubhouse, swinging a bat. And here they didn’t think he’d fit in. But he just waltzed in there, and he was swinging a bat the whole time."

This is a former No. 1 pick who never had a dad breathing down his neck, a former No. 1 pick who is more practical joker than prima donna:

The team photo story: In high school, he played soccer almost as well as he played baseball, and always managed to keep the team loose. In fact, just before the team picture was taken his junior year, he poured water on his nipples. "So when the team photo arrived, there he is with two wet spots the size of silver dollars," says his old classmate Steve Isbell. "It’s still on his bulletin board at home to this day, in his room."

The bus story: His minor league team, in Mobile, was bussing to Birmingham one day, when he and teammate Kevin Eberwein started wrestling 10 rows back. To punish them, the team’s manager made Burroughs and Eberwein -- who were roommates -- stand in front of the bus holding hands the rest of the trip. "The dude has sweaty palms," Eberwein says.

The grocery store story: He and Triple-A teammates Eberwein, Ben Howard and Xavier Nady were buying food at an empty Safeway one evening, when Burroughs grabbed one of those motorized shopping carts that are reserved for elderly shoppers. He then rode it, at 2 mph, all over the place until a store employee chased him off.

The Spanish story: At Triple-A, he narrowly missed a home run one time, and as he rounded second base the opposing shortstop -- Ramon Vazquez -- heard him curse in Spanish. "I’m like, ‘What was that?’ " says Vazquez, who is now Burroughs’ teammate in San Diego. "This is the first time I’ve heard an American player that hasn’t played in a Latin country talk like that. He knows Spanish real well. All the words. Good and bad." Burroughs’ response? "Well, I’d rather cuss in Spanish," he says. "Just in case someone’s reading your lips or hears you. You don’t want to be saying cuss words out loud. Looks bad."

The waitress story: He’s really corny with the chicks. One Padre says he witnessed the following exchange at a restaurant.

Waitress: "Can I take your order?"

Burroughs: "A coke and your phone number."

That’s the great thing about Sean Burroughs -- a dad didn’t invent him. He did.

P.S. The waitress stiffed him.

Tom Friend is a senior writer for ESPN The Magazine. E-mail him at tom.friend@espnmag.com.