There came a point in 2002 when Karen Mainieri couldn’t take it any longer.
She was tired of chasing her rambunctious 7-year-old son Tommy around the stands in Notre Dame’s Frank Eck Stadium, and finally convinced her husband to bring Tommy along in the dugout with him.
As the adage goes, mother knows best.
LSU baseball coach Paul Mainieri and his son Tommy have been side by side ever since, even as he moved dugouts from South Bend to Baton Rouge.
“I wish I would have been old enough to make the decision on my own,” the younger Mainieri said. “I’ve learned a ton by being in the dugout.”
Paul, who also grew up the son of a baseball coach, knew his son would begin to pick up the intricacies of baseball by being so close to the action. He couldn’t have imagined it would be so quickly.
He pointed to a game at Notre Dame against Creighton in 2002. Paul was coaching third base, and during a mound visit, with two men on base, he felt a tug on his pant leg from Tommy, who had run out with an important question.
“He’s looking up, I’m looking down. I said, ‘What’s wrong, Tom?'” Paul said. “‘I just wanted to know if you were going to bunt or hit-and-run here,’ is what he asked me at 7 years old.”
Now a 17-year-old junior at Catholic High in Baton Rouge, Tommy laughs at his early curiosity, but he said he cherishes the moments he spends with his father at work. His full school schedule and spot as a second basemen on Catholic High’s varsity baseball team make attending every game almost impossible.
Paul said when Tommy or his other son, 28-year-old Nick, aren’t in the dugout, there is a noticeable spot missing that’s more than a physical presence.
“They’ve stood next to me so many times, for so many big games, that when they’re not there, it seems like part of me isn’t there,” Paul said.
Paul said LSU’s grueling schedule only affords him about a “50/50” chance to see Tommy play. When he does make it out to the park, Paul admits his nerves are more rampant than during the games he coaches.
Paul often secludes himself from the crowd to focus solely on his son and hopes those around him don’t perceive him as aloof or anti-social.
“When I sit in the stands and watch my son play, I’m all ‘dad,'” Paul said. “I have to keep reminding myself that I’m a coach, and I have to conduct myself in a way when I watch these games that’s reflective of my profession.”
Tommy said he often looks into the opposing dugout and heard whispers when his name is announced. With his dad being a coach his entire life, Tommy said he’s learned to take everything in stride, even the occasional taunting or criticisms he may face after a tough LSU loss.
“I’ve learned to take the good with the bad,” Tommy said. “It doesn’t really matter what people think to me. He’s my dad either way. I love him.”
Having two generations before him as head coaches, Tommy said he wants to be a coach, but he said in order to do that – in his mind – he must play college baseball. He said his dad’s first Division I coaching stop, Air Force, has begun recruiting him and he visited campus last fall.
Although deemed “vertically challenged” by his father, 5-foot-6-inch Tommy dismisses any qualms about his height by saying what his father has been preaching for years.
“‘The bigger they are, the harder they fall,’ that’s what my dad always says,” Tommy said.
For now, Paul said he is overwhelmed with pride for his son and lauded how hard he works in both academics and athletics.
He said even though he might be absent for some holidays, work extremely long hours and deal with devastating losses, one thing will always remain constant.
“The one thing that I know between my dad and I and my son and I is that nothing will come between us, ” the older Mainieri said. “We’re always going to be fiercely loyal to each other.”
 
 
 
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Contact Chandler Rome at [email protected]