Being Short Doesn’t Stop Fisher From Standing Tall

Matt Fisher’s glare is ominous, like a threat. His smirks are as provocative as a mischievous boy. His use of the English language can inspire friends and infuriate foes.

Welcome to the baseball world of the 17-year-old Valley Chatsworth shortstop who plays the game so hard, with such relentless fury and passion, he puts himself in a state of total focus.

“It’s just when I get on the field, everything comes out,” he said. “I expect so much out of myself and so much out of my teammates.”

Conor Jackson, an All-City shortstop from rival El Camino Real High and one of Fisher’s close friends, chuckles at the reaction some people have when they are first introduced to the 5-foot-9, 160-pound firebrand who expects to get a hit every time at the plate.

“That’s the way he thrives,” Jackson said. “He turns on a switch. He has that intensity. I know how he works, so it doesn’t affect me, but I’m sure others are offended.

“I’m surprised he hasn’t been dosed every time he gets up there. He gives comments in the dugout, the smirks when you’re at bat. They’re hilarious, comments you know only he would say.”

Said Fisher: “I don’t mean to get under their nerves. When we’re down, I think we should be up.”

Playing in the American Legion World Series this week marks the third time Fisher has reached a world series, the previous two in Little League.

“It’s pretty amazing I got to go to another one,” he said.

Time has passed like the blink of an eye.

It wasn’t too long ago a somewhat embarrassed sportswriter was peering in on a private moment in Williamsport, Pa. There was Fisher, 12, crying on his mother’s shoulder outside the team barracks after Northridge lost to Venezuela on national television in the 1994 Little League World Series final.

Deep inside, Fisher knew it wouldn’t be the end of his baseball career, but failing to win it all went against everything he stood for. The soothing, reassuring words of his mother, Vicki, left a lasting impression.

“I remember telling him, ‘There’s nothing to hang your head,’ and there would be other chances,” she said.

Mother knows best, for Fisher has grown up to be the talented, hard-nosed, successful shortstop many envisioned him becoming.

Never before has Coach Tom Meusborn had a shortstop at Chatsworth High with the durability, steadiness and toughness of Fisher.

He took over the starting position three games into his freshman season and hasn’t come out except for a one-game suspension his sophomore year when he borrowed his girlfriend’s lunch pass and got caught.

Fisher is a coach’s dream and a pitcher’s best friend. He is a shortstop who consistently makes the routine plays and the hard ones. Balls hit to him are almost automatic outs. He helps lower the stress level for his coaches and pitchers just being on the field.

He is coming off an All-City junior season in which he batted .398 with 15 doubles and 36 runs batted in. Last week, in regional competition in Las Vegas, he was the toughest out on the field, going 17 for 27 with nine RBIs. On Friday night, he tied a Legion World Series record with two home runs in one game.

There is a perfectionist streak that runs through Fisher’s blood. Nothing was more disheartening than news last month that he would not be invited to play in the Area Code tournament, which brings together top high school players chosen by pro scouts.

He wasn’t merely angry, he was infuriated that someone had judged him not worthy enough to rank among the best shortstops in Southern California.

“I was real upset,” he said. “I thought there were players I was better than.”

Had he been chosen, he would have been forced to make a decision whether to keep playing Legion ball for Valley Chatsworth or attend the Area Code tournament in Long Beach. He’s thrilled to be at the Legion World Series, but he wanted that option, that respect an invitation to the Area Code tournament provides.

The rejection from pro scouts only added fuel to Fisher’s fiery demeanor.

He is motivated to prove to the nonbelievers that, “Matt Fisher’s for real and just because he’s 5-9 and 160 pounds doesn’t mean he can’t play with anyone else.”

With every hit and every defensive play, he makes the pro scouts look silly.

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Eric Sondheimer’s local column appears Wednesday and Sunday. He can be reached at (818) 772-3422 or eric.sondheimerlatimes.com