Scotty Bauman: Building More than Just a Team
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By Whitney Randall | May 18 2026

“What advice would I give to somebody who wants to become a flippin' bird? You bleed. You sweat. You cry. You jump for joy. You do everything with this family. And this family is going to be a huge part of your life for the rest of your life. So, embrace it and take it for the challenges that come with it, and embrace those too.”
For Scotty Bauman, that idea of family is not just a slogan. It is the foundation of the program he built over decades, and a philosophy he created long before he ever stepped into a head coaching role.
Bauman grew up in Price, Utah, a small coal-mining town in eastern Utah, where sports provided structure. Raised by his divorced mother and spending part of his childhood living in a trailer, stability wasn’t always guaranteed. It was something he learned to build for himself. His first connection to gymnastics wasn’t through competition but curiosity. His journey with the sport began with his involvement in ski jumping.The interest started with wanting to learn how to twist better in the air, and what started as cross-training turned into something more intentional and permanent.
He began coaching not because it was the plan but because it solved a problem. He needed to pay for training, so he started spotting gymnasts. What he never expected was that he would excel at it or the attention he’d attract. By the time he was in high school, he was working with athletes on advanced skills, catching the eye of college coaches. When a Utah State coach was watching him spot an athlete during a camp in Price, it became the first real turning point. Not because it changed everything automatically, but because it opened up more possibilities and opportunities to learn. It was the first time that Bauman saw that coaching could be more than just a side job or a hobby.
Still, he started at Utah State with the intention of going into a medical career. But gymnastics had other plans for him. Under the mentorship of coach Ray Corn, Bauman spent years learning how to build and understand athletes. Over time, coaching started to look more and more like a career. Then, the head coach position opened up at Southern Utah University.
“I didn’t really think I had a shot at this job,” Bauman said. “I was 23. I was single. I didn’t know anything.”
Even with his age, he was offered the position. Despite his uncertainty, he took it anyway. When he started coaching, there wasn’t immediate success, but instead friction. He joined a program filled with tension and athletes who didn’t trust his process. His first year was defined by conflict, structure, and readjustment. Bauman describes it plainly; it was the year he learned what not to do. It was also the year that helped to build the foundation of SUU gymnastics.
The philosophy that exists now is one built on communication, accountability, and respect, but it was built from conflict. From athletes who pushed back, expectations that had to be learned, not just enforced, from learning that culture is not automatically created, it’s built on repetition. The team transformed into something bigger. It became a family built through consistency, accountability, and time.
For Bauman, that idea of family was shaped long before his program ever reflected it. When his wife was pregnant, families in his community stepped in without hesitation. They brought meals, mowed his lawn, checked in, and made sure that they were taken care of during a time that could have easily been much more overwhelming. It was never asked for but his community just decided to take care of them on their own. That kindness stayed with him, it became the standard he would later bring into his program. For his team, showing up for each other is not optional, but expected.
In gymnastics, success is measured in scores and placements, but inside the SUU gym, there were moments when winning stopped being the point. What mattered was how the team would respond when everything broke down.

One of these moments came with Kayla Pardue. Pardue’s injury during a preseason preview was the kind of moment that changed everything. In gymnastics, a lower-body injury can end a gymnast’s career. Even with the best-case scenarios, recovery is uncertain. With Pardue’s injury, she had a 20% chance that she could ever compete again. It seemed impossible. But inside this program, it wasn’t.
Training staff and strength coaches stepped in, and her nutrition plan shifted. The medical team, anchored by Bauman’s secret weapon, Dr. Nakken, began mapping a return timeline that few would have attempted. The final ingredient in her recovery was something that can’t be built into protocol: belief. Every small milestone of hers in the gym became a collective moment. In Bauman’s program, recovery is integration, not isolation. With every basic skill Pardue landed, it was a celebration. That response, he believes, is cultural conditioning
“You don’t know how lucky you are to be where you’re at,” he often reminds his athletes. Not as a warning but a reminder that opportunity in a Division I program is not guaranteed, and neither is time.
Leadership, in this program, is never assigned lightly. It isn’t about scores or status but about trust. Athletes are chosen by how their teammates view them, not just their competitive performance. For Bauman, the most important leaders are the ones that others naturally turn to, the ones who set the standard especially when no one is watching.
When those leaders begin to wonder whether they belong, he doesn’t let that doubt linger. Instead he sits them down and brings them back to the people around them, reminding them exactly why their teammates chose them to lead them in the first place. In his program, confidence isn’t built through results alone, but through trust and accountability to their team.
That mentality carried into one of the most successful stretches in program history. This season was one defined by pressure, expectation, and what Bauman admits was luck. In the championship run that led to a four-peat, he was blunt about the margins. But luck alone doesn’t explain a team that consistently delivered when it mattered most. It doesn’t explain a floor lineup that could change the team ranking entirely. It doesn’t explain a beam team that, even after inconsistency, can deliver when the stakes are high. What Bauman does credit is cohesion; even when performance fluctuated, the team never fractured.
He described this team as the most honest and unproblematic that he has ever coached. They may not have been perfect or consistent, but they have an unbreakable connection. Even when the routines wavered, the culture didn’t. That distinction mattered the most when the season ended with another championship. Even when the team celebrated, their next move was already underway.
Southern Utah is moving up to a whole new level of competition, joining the PAC-12 in July this year. For the flippin’ birds, it means a conference with deeper lineups, higher standards, and no margin for inconsistency. For Bauman, the transition, or at least their competition, is familiar.
“These are teams we compete against all the time,” he said. “They’re not teams that dominate us.”
Even with that margin for error disappearing, their foundation remains. They’ll enter the next season very veteran-heavy. With ten seniors returning, they have already been tested in pressure situations, living through injuries, lineup changes, and have hopes for a five-peat. No matter how they end a season, Bauman always returns to development. In his program, athletes aren’t just recruited, they are created. He finds under-recruited athletes and makes them into All-Americans. He sees the potential that other coaches often miss.
He always credits their success as a program to his team and his staff. The assistant coaches who have worked with him for decades. Athletic trainers and strength coaches who bring athletes back to their peak when they shouldn’t have been able to compete again. Administrators who “just find a way” when their team needs something. He credits them more than himself.
“I want to sit here and think it’s all me,” he said, “but it isn’t. It’s hardly any me.”
In his view, building this team and its success took a village. It is consistency across all roles, a system where everyone understands the standard and refuses to drop below it. That structure is what has allowed athletes to return from career-ending injuries. It has kept their retention close to almost 100%. It is leadership chosen by the athletes, recognizing work beyond just competitive success. This is what made Southern Utah’s identity and culture so difficult to replicate.

He also credits Cedar City. For Bauman, SUU is not just a campus or a school. It is a community that has consistently shown up for his program in ways that are beyond any expectation. From donors who quietly support the team, to residents who pack the America First Event Center, creating one of the strongest home atmospheres. The community is not just background support; they are part of the program’s identity.
That support is not something Bauman takes lightly. He remembers community members stepping in to help, even when resources were limited. He points to service events like campus-wide service events and team-led community projects, showing that the relationship runs both ways.
“We’re part of this community,” he said. “And we want the community to see that we try.”
That connection has shaped this program. Athletes learn quickly that they are representing more than just a school; they are representing a city that invests in them emotionally, physically, and consistently. And in return, his athletes show up for that community in the same way it shows up for them. For Bauman, that exchange has never been transactional; it has always been personal.
In the end, he doesn’t measure success by championships alone. He measures it by whether athletes feel supported when they are injured, believed in when they are doubtful, and valued even when they don’t feel at their best.

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