CUMBERLAND, Md. — In any given moment during any given baseball game he was coaching, the man could display what Time Magazine once described as “the clenched-fist face of Hank Bauer,” the ex-Marine who returned from World War II to become a World Series star with the New York Yankees and later manage the Baltimore Orioles to the 1966 world championship.

In another moment you could look down to the third-base coaching box and see the intensity and piercing eyes of the great actor John Cassavetes. Yet in the next moment you were likely to see a smile that would fill a determined ballplayer’s heart with joy — the joy of having made his coach proud of him.

Arms could be flailing, words could be flying — no, words were always flying — a hat could be tossed into the air, dirt could be kicked, fanny could be threatened to be kicked if the proper baseball fundamentals were not performed, and fanny was patted when they were performed the way they were taught. And through it all, Jim “Bromo” Ellsworth was having the time of his life, making sure his ballplayers were having the time of theirs by playing baseball, the greatest game of them all.

He was a great many things to a community he knew was great. Like Bauer, who also died on Thursday, Bromo was an ex-Marine who continued to serve his community and his country in a great many ways, always striving to leave the world a better place than what he found it. And he succeeded in doing that, particularly on the baseball field where he coached and managed the Dapper Dan Little League Cardinals dynasty for 32 years.

“Step and swing, step and swing,” said former University of Maryland quarterback Mark Manges, one of Bromo’s former Cardinals. “He would pitch batting practice, and Bromo wasn’t the greatest pitcher in the world, so you had to have your batting helmet on.

“But he had a handful of about five balls at once, and he would catch one, pitch the other; catch one and pitch the other. You learned to dig in, but you had to be on your toes because you didn’t know where it was coming.

“But step and swing. Step and swing. Even today when I watch a major league game, I find myself saying, ‘Step and swing.’ It was the fundamentals that were so true. It’s what all the guys who played for him will remember.”

Former Ohio State University quarterback Greg Hare was in agreement with Manges about Bromo’s pitching: “ I can remember him throwing balls at me and screaming, ‘Hit the ball! Hit the ball!’ ” Hare said. “But, as you know, I responded to that. Bromo was gruff. I was a shy kid, so I needed that.

“I loved him. I really did.”

“He had all kinds of gimmicks to help you if you weren’t swinging good,” said Baltimore Orioles manager Sam Perlozzo, another one of Bromo’s boys. “I use some of the things he said to this day. When I was coaching third base I told runners, ‘Touch it and go,’ just like Bromo did.”

Arriba!

The godfather to Bromo’s son Mark Allen Ellsworth (named for former Cardinals Manges and Alan Orndorff), Perlozzo says he owes much of his success to his former Little League coach.

“Other than my dad, Bromo gave me my first basic background of baseball. He was a high energy guy, he cared about the kids. He made it fun. He taught you how to play the game the right way. Sure, he’d get mad and yell at you sometimes, but that always ended up being the funniest part.

“It was just a blast playing for him ... He was a great guy. He was like a dad. If Dad wasn’t around, you could always count on Bromo.”

And the name Bromo? Bromoseltzer of course.

“He was playing ball over at East Side, and he was running the bases,” said Mark Ellsworth. “And as he was chugging around the bases, people started chanting ‘Bromoseltzer! Bromoseltzer! Bromoseltzer!’

“And that’s how he got it. And, of course, it stuck.”

Playing the game correctly, and winning the game stuck too.

“We won the championship my last two years,” said Manges. “Brian Carroll and Terry Benson were the guys who carried us that year. Then, when I was 12, Alan Orndorff, Sam Benson and Bobby Tichnell were our big guns.”

Perlozzo chuckled when he said, “I remember riding the streets of Cumberland after we had won a game with a carload of kids yelling, ‘Arriba! Arriba! Arriba!’ Bromo always had us yelling something. I think he felt letting it out like that helped you like what you were doing even more.

“He just wanted you to learn and have fun. And, oh yeah, he wanted to win.”

Manges, who, like Hare, seemingly spent his entire athletic career surrounded by loud men, was in agreement with that.

“The New York Mets had been in existence for just a few years when I played for Bromo,” Manges said, “and, of course, they were a sorry team then. So whenever we got down in a game, he had us yelling from the dugout, ‘Let’s go Mets!’ ‘Let’s go Mets!’ Let’s go Mets!’

“People would be looking at us wondering why the Cardinals were screaming ‘Let’s go Mets!’ But those were some of the inspirational things he used to do to get you fired up and get you to believe you could come back and win the game.

“More often than not when you get kids screaming, it rattles the other kids and you can rally and come back.”

‘I’m sorry, Bromo!’

Perlozzo remembers the day he was fearful he had silenced the screaming.

“I remember Bromo was throwing batting practice one day,” Perlozzo said, “and I was taking ground balls at third base, made a nice pick on one, got up and threw a pea to first base that hit Bromo right in the ear.

“He was lying on the ground and I thought I had killed him. This would be a hard one to explain: ‘Hey, Dad. I killed Bromo.’

“So I ran over and he opened his eyes. I said, ‘I’m sorry, Bromo!’ And he looked up and said, ‘Perlozzo ... You’re cut!’ ”

J.R. Perdew, Chicago White Sox pitching coach, was one of the boys who did not play for Bromo, but who felt the Ellsworth reach of baseball guidance.

“I pitched for the Pirates,” Perdew said, “and one day I didn’t pitch too well and proceeded to act like a baby. Bromo came over and grabbed me aside while my dad was standing there, and he told me I was going to have to learn to handle things better than that.

“He told me when things go bad to keep fighting, and he was the coach of the team I was pitching against. When I was 12, I beat the Cardinals, and Bromo was the first one to come over and congratulate me.”

“Bromo was old school. He was hard-nosed old school, Even when you were playing for the other team, he was still a teacher and adviser. That’s something I’ll never forget. And he’d get into your butt.”

‘I owe Bromo ...’

Bromo Ellsworth once said, “I’m such a good baseball coach, I coached two All-American quarterbacks.”

Because of Bromo, it was two. And according to Hare, it very easily could have been one.

“Bromo was my starting point,” Hare said, “and he was the starting point for a lot of other kids too. When I was eight-years-old, I was a big kid and the other kids must have told him about me. I swear to God I was playing marbles when Bromo came by my house and asked me if I wanted to play baseball.

“He was my introduction to sports. I owe Bromo, because he pushed me, and I needed that. If it weren’t for him, I might not have ever played sports. So ... you never know.

“Bromo was an amazing guy.”

In 1974, Manges was the recipient of the Dapper Dan Club’s Top Award after being named a high school All-American quarterback while playing for Fort Hill. The night remains one of the Manges’ fondest memories of Bromo.

“That night he was being honored as Little League Manager of the Year,” Manges said. “He deserved it. He had been there for years and had the best winning percentage, but he had never won Manager of the Year up until then.

“I was happy and honored to be on the stage with Bromo at the same time. It was great that we shared that time together and it’s something I’ll never forget.

“Bromo was just a tremendous guy. A lot of eras are coming to a close these days, and it’s sad to see. But thank God there was a guy like Bromo.”



Mike Burke writes for the Cumberland (Md.) Times-News. Write to him at mburke@times-news.com