67-year-old Gerald “Deano” Short wears his favorite baseball cap in the living room of his apartment in Tempe. Short, who has been working with the baseball team for some years now, says it is by far his favorite sport. (Photo by Dominic Valente)On a recent warm evening,67-year-old Gerald “Deano” Short sat where he always sits at Arizona State University baseball games: in the stands behind home plate with parents, former players and alumni. As usual, he wore a full ASU baseball uniform and a hard plastic headset attached to an old Sony radio.
His flat-brimmed hat matched his uniform and covered strands of white hair that usually stood straight off his head. His dusty green eyes hid behind large-framed glasses. His close-mouthed smile stretched from ear to ear. He wore an ASU baseball jersey, white pants and layered baseball socks with the signature ASU pitchfork above the number 34 to honor Cory Hahn, a junior who was paralyzed three years ago after sliding head first into second base.
For 18 years, Short, who has been battling serious mental illness most of his life, has been a fixture at ASU baseball games. He's among the first to arrive at the field on game day. He wipes down the benches in both dugouts. He helps prepare the field. When the players arrive, Short feeds the bunt machine. And he soothes nerves. The players look to him for encouragement.
During the games, Short sits in the stands, leaving only for a brief time from the bottom of the fourth inning into the top of the fifth.
The top of the fourth inning had just ended on this night. ASU was ahead 2-1 against the University of Oregon. Short removed his headphones. He stood up.
Short believes his attitude impacts game outcomes. “I’m gonna go get some runs!” Short exclaimed to Gary Coffman, the father of ASU baseball player Kasey Coffman.
A man sitting directly behind Coffman made a fist and stretched it towards Short. Short tapped the man’s fist with his own. Then Short climbed heavily up the Packard Stadium steps.
When the fourth inning ended, Short sprinted onto the baseball field from the ASU dugout. With a beige rag in his right hand, he climbed the pitcher’s mound. Facing center field, he wiped off the pitcher’s rubber. Next he grabbed the rosin bag behind the mound. He raised the bag over his shoulders and threw it to the ground. A cloud of powder billowed into the air.
The ASU pitcher, Trevor Williams, met Short on the mound. Williams towered over the 5-foot-8-inch Short. Short and Williams knocked knuckles together. Short told Williams to keep working hard. Then Short turned and ran off the field. The crowd cheered and clapped for Short.
“Yeah Deano!” yelled Coffman from the stands as Short finished his ritual. In the dugout, Short jubilantly knocked knuckles with the other players. Then Short ambled back into the stands. His black Nike shoes were caked in mud.
***
Short has paranoid schizophrenia. He was open about his illness during an interview. (Short's case manager, George Mcree, confirmed the diagnosis.) Short has battled this serious mental illness — marked by delusions, hallucinations, stress and isolation — most of his life. “When I go out I think everyone is watching me and thinking things about me,” he recently recalled. He began to stammer, a sign he was getting nervous. “That gets me pretty upset.”
“I blame my family for a lot of it. They’d tell me I didn’t have any friends,” said Short recently. “They liked my brother more than me. They were more for him, that’s my honest opinion.”
While battling his own mental illness, Short has also battled the social stigma that comes along with it.
The Mayo Clinic notes that those with mental illness are often wrongfully labeled as violent, unstable or dangerous. As a result, those with mental illness have suffered discrimination while looking for housing and employment, and have consistently been misunderstood by loved ones and shunned from their communities. This can have harmful effects on the recovery of those with mental illness.
Deano Short is not alone. During the 2012 fiscal year, 40,990 seriously mentally ill adults received assistance from the Arizona Department of Health Services. The federal and state government usually fund services for the seriously mentally ill. Short is receiving treatment and is on medication. He attends the Southwest Network for life classes and counseling. And he attends ASU baseball games.
****
On a busy afternoon, Short rode his blue mountain bike with thick tires on the outskirts of ASU’s campus, navigating between students walking on the sidewalk. A pair of glasses stuck out from the pocket of his stiff short-sleeved shirt. He rode slowly, with perfect posture. His khaki pants were spotless and his gray sneakers were tied tightly. A black car sped by blasting hip-hop music. Short didn’t pay any mind.
After arriving at his apartment on the ground level of his sand-colored complex in Tempe, Short got off of his bike. He wiggled the key in the lock and opened the door. The tan tile floor had recently been installed, making his tidy, clean apartment look new. On top of his kitchen counter were baseball bobble-heads Short had collected. The refrigerator in his small kitchen held a few frozen dinners, frozen waffles and juice.
In Short’s bedroom hung a couple of ASU baseball posters and his most beloved possession. It was a small, framed photograph of Coach Pat Murphy and ASU President Michael Crow shaking hands after a baseball game. Coach Murphy had signed the photograph and inscribed a message:
To Dean Short-
The #1 Sun Devil Baseball Fan
& true friend for life.
God Bless,
Coach Pat Murphy
ASU
The blankets on top of his bed were perfectly laid upon his mattress and looked more like sheets of paper than ruffled bedding. On Short’s dresser were business cards laid out as if to create a checkerboard. On his nightstand stood a plaque honoring him for 25 years of service as a custodian at ASU, along with Short’s high-school graduation picture. He wore a suit in the photograph and looked clean-cut with a military style haircut.
The shelves to the left of Short’s flat-screen television held photographs of Short with families he has grown close to over the years. One photograph, of Short's mother, June Hendrix, was much older than the other pictures. Short's mom wore a dress in the photograph and her hair was light in color with an old-fashioned wave to it. “She looks a lot like me,” said Short.
Short was born on March 18, 1946 in Mesa. Immediately after his birth, Short’s grandparents adopted him. Short never met his father.
Short’s Uncle Ken was the closet thing he had to a father. Uncle Ken taught him a love for baseball. When Short was a young boy, he and Uncle Ken would go to a local field and practice hitting. They'd listen to the Dodgers play on the radio. “I was treated great by him,” Short recalled, “He tried to help me with everything I needed.”
Although he loved baseball, Short wanted to be a police officer but ended up working as a security guard in Phoenix instead. During a shift at a hospital, another security guard mistakenly shot Short. Today he bears a souvenir of the friendly fire—a white curved scar on the inside of his arm.
A more serious condition soon overtook him. When he was in his 20s, he said, he became so paranoid he drove himself to a hospital in Mesa. He spent five months in a group home where he began treatment for paranoid schizophrenia. For a while he couldn’t work. Later he landed a job as a custodian for ASU — and he held that position for 28 years. ASU President Michael Crow honored Short a few years before he retired for 25 years of service.
***
Deano Short is a “beautiful man with a beautiful spirit,” said Pat Murphy, ASU’s head baseball coach from 1995-2009. Murphy met Short at one of his first practices and they hit it off. From that moment on, Short became a working member of the ASU baseball team.
“It was important to him (Short) to be a part of something,” said Murphy, “He needed something in his life to look forward to.”
Short soon became the treasure of the ASU baseball team. “Fans love Short,” said Murphy, who helped create the fifth-inning ritual. “I wanted the fans to be able to stand up and cheer for him … I wanted him to feel that in his life.”
Murphy would invite Short over for Christmas and Thanksgiving every year and for waffle dinners in between. “I can’t tell you how we would laugh,” said Murphy, who now holds a position within the San Diego Padres organization.
Throughout the years Short also spent holidays with parents of baseball players. He's been to weddings and barbecues. He feels as much a part of the families as anyone else.
“Our first Christmas with him he was like a little kid, he was so thankful he was crying,” said Denise Newman, the mother of ASU alumni player Matt Newman.
Newman also recalls Short asking if he could call her and her husband Mom and Dad.
“I didn’t mind,” said Newman, even though Short was older than the both of them.
The Coffmans have also grown to love Short. Gary Coffman speaks to Short once a day when he gets home from work. Coffman is a Phoenix Police Department sergeant, which fascinated Short. Coffman has brought Short on multiple ride-alongs and lunches. “Everything doesn’t always get into Deano’s mouth,” said Coffman, “and he doesn’t mind making a joke of it to make other people laugh.”
“I’m not even sure he understands how much people care about him,” said Coffman.
***
At the ASU-Oregon baseball game, Deano Short had been at the field for nearly 10 hours when the bottom of the eleventh inning began. Short’s soda cup had long been empty. Earlier Short worried when the Oregon Ducks had two back-to-back hits after an ASU error. He adjusted his earphones, tapped his fingers, then folded his hands.
With the game tied at the bottom of the eleventh inning, one of Short’s favorite players, Max Rossiter, hit a single.
“Atta boy Max!” Short enthused..
Trever Allen was up next.
“Right now Trev!” hollered Short.
Allen walked.
RJ Ybarra, approached the plate.
“Come on RJ!” Short yelled.
He sat on the edge of his dark green seat behind home plate for the remainder of Ybarra’s time at bat. The crowd erupted with screams and claps. All the players rushed to home plate.
“THAT A WAY DEVILS!” Short screamed.
RJ hit a single to left field to win the game.
The stadium was filled with the sounds of fireworks coming from behind right field.
Short opened his arms to embrace Coffman.
“Way to stay positive Deano,” said Coffman.
After the players held their caps over their heads to acknowledge the crowd, Kasey Coffman greeted his family directly behind home plate.
Short held out his clenched fist to Kasey Coffman.
The young baseball player looked at Short the same way he looked at his family. Then the two knocked their knuckles through the fence.
Reach the writer at bslocum@asu.edu
