Friday column: In trial, no surprises — just pain

Christmas is a season for the unexpected; for some, the unbelievable.

Unfortunately, in sportsland the last few days, we’ve seen nothing but the expected and the believable. I discuss a couple of incidents today in my blog.

But of the expected, nothing was more tragic this week than the end of the trial of Andrew Thomas Gallo.
An athlete? No, a killer of one.

Last year, Gallo — driving with a blood alcohol content of 0.19 percent after a night of drinking with his stepbrother — blew through a red light in Fullerton, Calif., and hit a car carrying Nick Adenhart, a 22-year-old pitcher for the Los Angeles Angels.

Adenhart was killed, along with friends Courtney Stewart, 20, and Henry Pearson, 25. Jon Wilhite, 24, survived, but sustained major injuries.

The trial played out along predictable lines. The state charged Gallo with second-degree murder; the defendant pleaded not guilty.

Gallo, with a previous DUI conviction and at least two stints in rehab on his record, was defended by his family.
“It was an accident,” his mother, Sandra Sagahon, said.

The jury said it was murder, leading to the penalty phase of the trial, which also moved along predictable lines.

In emotional testimony, the families of Stewart, Pearson, Wilhite and Adenhart understandably pressed for the longest possible incarceration.

“Andrew Gallo, the night you killed my daughter you killed me,” Stewart’s mother said. “I will never be the same.”

Wilhite’s mother discussed the excruciating pain her son had been in and his difficult recovery. “Mr. Gallo, you put my son through hell,” she said. … I hope you enjoy your new address.”

The Adenhart family sent a letter that said, in part, “There is no justice as long as Mr. Gallo is drawing a breath.”

While families of the victim asked for the maximum, Gallo’s family asked for leniency.

Gallo didn’t get it, the judge sentencing him to 55 years to life. Gallo, 23, will be eligible for parole when he’s 72. As he handed down the sentence, the judge put it bluntly:

“Mr. Gallo, you have devastated four families — really five families, with your own.”

If there was any hint of grace, it came when Gallo’s father, after asking for leniency for his son, turned to the victims’ families and said, “My family prays for you all the time. We also pray that someday you’ll forgive us.”

Forgive us.

That’s the father including the family in the sins of the son.

Then, there’s someday.

In the courtroom Tuesday, just four days before Christmas, there was nothing unexpected, nothing unbelievable. Which doesn’t mean there won’t be — somewhere, someday.

Transcendence can take time.