Gagne Saves Best Stuff for Patients at Hospital

It had been a particularly bad chemotherapy day Tuesday for 9-year-old Mario Castillo, and before Eric Gagne walked into his room at Mattel Children’s Hospital at UCLA, Wednesday hadn’t been much fun either.

Mario was lying on his stomach and moving for no one until Gagne popped his head in the door and asked the child if he had a moment to talk. The youngster was suddenly sitting up and asking him if it would be all right if he could try throwing the ball to Gagne.

Gagne, who was wearing one of his Dodger jerseys as if no one would know who he was, signed a ball and a Dodger poster for the child and then told Mario he would tell him a secret, something he has told no one before, as long as Mario agreed to never tell anyone else.

Mario nodded, and then the two shared a private moment, Gagne taking the ball and showing the child the secret of how he throws his changeup -- the magical pitch that has left so many batters befuddled this season.

When Gagne left, of course, I stopped by Mario’s room and grilled the kid.

“You can tell me about the changeup,” I told Mario, who occupies one of the critical isolation rooms for leukemia and cancer patients on the pediatric floor of the hospital. “I’m a reporter, you know.”

Mario looked at me and then shook his head emphatically from side to side.

“It’s no big deal, Mario, I’m supposed to know these things,” I persisted, and while I continued to badger, the kid unfolded the Dodger poster Gagne had autographed for him and pointed to the scowl on Gagne’s face.

“Look at how mean he gets,” Mario said. “I promised.”

*

GAGNE WAS shocked. He’s seen me break tough guys who swing bats. “He wouldn’t tell you -- ha, that’s great,” he said. “He told me he’d keep it secret.”

It was probably 30 minutes later, and Gagne had left the hospital and I noticed one of the hospital staff holding the Dodger jersey Gagne had worn on his visit. I told her she was fortunate to score such a prize.

“No. He told me I’m supposed to give it to Mario,” she said, “because Mario kept his promise and never told you the secret to his changeup.”

*

ONE NIGHT earlier Gagne had struck out the side against the San Francisco Giants to record his 27th save this season -- earning $500 a save for the Mattel Children’s Hospital at UCLA and the Division of Hematology-Oncology on behalf of Farmer John.

This was his first visit to the hospital, and for many of the kids I had to explain that the big-time grubby, disheveled intimidator they might have seen on TV was the very same unassuming, smiling teddy bear standing next to their bed.

Rosemary Castaneda, preparing for her first chemo treatment, had no idea who Gagne was, but her boyfriend did, so Gagne made sure she received two autographed baseballs and he posed for all the pictures she wanted.

“She was pretty disappointed [Tuesday] when I told her we would have to admit her to the hospital for treatment,” said Dr. Dan Ozeran, “but I think we cured her of that disappointment today.”

Before Gagne’s visit with 21-year-old Shawn Phillips, Dr. Galit Rosen said the hospital staff was looking at a very ill young man who was a little depressed. But now, she said, like all the other kids on the floor, “he’s having a good day.”

Phillips also received two autograph baseballs, one for him and the other, he said, for his brother Kyle, who had donated bone marrow to him.

“I’m actually pretty happy,” Shawn said while thumbing through a Dodger program that Gagne had given him. “It makes my day a little brighter.”

*

GAGNE SIGNED three-dozen baseballs -- all left-handed. (Not to give the Micro-Manager any ideas, but Gagne grew up throwing left- and right-handed until his dad gave him a right-hander’s glove.)

*

I ASKED Dr. Edward R.B. McCabe, the big boss at Mattel, about the kids’ loss of hair. (I probably should have asked why he has two initials in addition to a first name, too, but I was afraid he was going to charge me for this visit.)

“The hair grows back,” Dr. McCabe said.

“For most of us,” said Dr. Noah Federman, who was looking at the wide open spaces atop his boss’ head, and I guess Sports Editor Bill Dwyre isn’t the only one who has trouble with some of his employees.

Dr. Federman, a New York Yankee fan, which might explain his behavior, had the best suggestion of the day, and one that should be posted in every clubhouse and locker room: “You see the way these kids are beaming because of this visit; Day 7 of chemo treatment and every kid should have the chance to meet with a celebrity.”

Case in point: Half an hour before 12-year-old Britt Grissom was scheduled for a procedure -- “it’s a big day for Britt,” Dr. Federman said -- Gagne joined the entire family for a visit in Britt’s room.

“This is something Britt will never forget,” said Michelle, his mother. “I’ll never forget it either. It means a lot to everyone.”

*

YOU PUT the goggles on Gagne, open the bullpen gate, hand him the baseball and he doesn’t look like a guy who would go mush on you, but what you get on the field, he said, is not the same person off it.

“I’m weak for kids,” he said. “I knew a youngster when I was younger who died from leukemia, and before he died I learned so much from watching him.

“I’m in a position to do some things now, and I’d just like to give these kids something else to think about for a week or so instead of what they have to go through every day.”

A nice changeup, if you will.

T.J. Simers can be reached at t.j.simers@latimes.com.