Coach Never Volunteered for Anything Like This

When this story began, Jim Gattis was like thousands of other Southland dads. He ran a nice little business, had a nice little family, volunteered his time down at the local baseball field where his son was a nice little infielder.

When this story ended, Jim Gattis was standing dumbstruck along the first base line at Dodger Stadium as 40,000 fans booed and cursed him.

How he reached that point was something that has been debated for as long as there have been children who want to play sports and adults who want to help them.

We all know the role of the child.

Less clear is the role of the adult.

Before that Saturday afternoon at Dodger Stadium, Jim Gattis thought he knew.

He had just missed several months of work to work as the volunteer manager for his son’s Little League all-star team.

The team had surprised everyone by advancing to the Little League World Series in Williamsport, Pa., where it won the national championship and was three outs from a world championship.

Then Mexico scored four runs in the bottom of the final inning to steal the game, leaving Gattis’ children prone and weeping on national television.

Afterward, Gattis said this: “Baseball is a tough game, and they got what they deserved today. . . . They deserved to lose this game.”

This is where the trouble started.

As a father of three, I was outraged that moments after children were traumatized before the world, their coach would say they deserved it. I wrote it then, and would write it again.

Judging from letters and calls, many of you were outraged as well, and not only based on the quote.

A review of ABC’s game telecast showed that in the final inning, after Adam Sorgi gave up a tying three-run homer, Sorgi came crying to the dugout, telling Gattis that he felt he let the team down.

Gattis did not try to convince him otherwise, instead urging him to compose himself and keep pitching. Close your eyes and it was Bill Russell talking to Todd Worrell.

When he eventually replaced Sorgi with another pitcher, Gattis said, “You go back to shortstop because you’re a great shortstop.”

That is the only compassion anyone heard from a devastated team’s leader during one of the most traumatic innings in the Little League’s 50-year championship history.

For hundreds of viewers and readers, it was not enough.

After returning home for a week of celebrations that included Disneyland visits and limousine rides, Gattis was made aware of this fact at Dodger Stadium.

The players and coaches were introduced to wild cheers. Then, finally, Gattis, who was booed worse than anybody not named Todd Worrell.

“I was shocked,” he said in a recent interview. “I had no idea.”

Then during the game, a couple of fans walked behind Gattis’ box seats and cursed him, within earshot of the children.

The next week, Gattis received a couple of pieces of hate mail.

And today this volunteer is wondering just where he went wrong.

“I can’t figure it out,” Gattis said. “I treated these children with dignity and respect.”

He seems like a well-meaning guy. He is the one who bought the shaving cream for his players’ fun fights. He is also the one who sat up nights with whoever was homesick.

This came from an unsolicited card sent to the Gattises from the mother of star outfielder and pitcher Ashton White:

“Just a note to let you know how grateful Charles and I are to you for taking the time and effort to help mold our son into not just a better baseball player, but person as well,” Judi White wrote. “He is much more responsible, considerate of others--more of a ‘team’ player, and I believe that is a byproduct of your leadership these past couple of months.”

Gattis said his quote about the players getting what they deserved was not shown in its proper context.

“All summer long, I have told them that it is not about just winning or losing, but about getting what you deserve,” he said. “If you do this, you win. If you do something else, you lose.

“I tried to teach the children that you get out of life what you put into it. After that game, I said that same thing I have been saying all summer.”

He also said he showed compassion during that final inning that was apparently not caught by the TV cameras. He said he gave his crying pitcher a thumbs-up from the dugout, and that Sorgi countered with his own thumbs-up.

“These kids have a lot to be proud of; they were awesome, and I told them that,” Gattis said.

So what happened to him? Weary people, that’s what happened. Weary of every coach who has ever forgotten, even for one inning or one quote, that the game involves children.

Weary people using one coach as a symbol for all coaches, letting them know what it’s like to hear somebody larger and powerful yelling at you.