The tone-setter at Lamade Stadium

There was little time to bask in the glory of going to the Little League World Series.

The Toms River East American Little League All-Star team -- the second version of the Windsor Avenue Gang -- had defeated the boys from Georgetown, Del., 2-0, behind Scott Fisher's no-hitter on August 20, 1998, a Thursday night, to win the East Regional Tournament championship.

By the next morning, I was back at the A. Bartlett Giamatti Complex in Bristol, Connecticut, to interview various team members. Normally, I would have had that Friday off from work because the Ocean County Observer did not publish on Saturdays.

But not anymore! At least for the time being. We were now property of Gannett and that meant being buddy-buddy with our rivals for generations, the Asbury Park Press.

Can you say "Awkward?" Well, it was, and for this Friday, I was here, my girlfriend Beth in tow with me because she wanted to be with me here in Connecticut but was limited by a severe back issue so she couldn't witness in person that TREA victory the night before and settled with watching it on our hotel room TV.

I told her as much as I didn't want to be here, I had to be here. Joe Adelizzi, the longtime sports editor at the Press, was here, too, and we had to write different stories on this team. He wrote a story on the arrangements the grownups had to make to turn everything around from Bristol to Williamsport, Pa. for the World Series, which was to open on that Sunday evening. I simply had the task of writing about the afterglow of a championship with these boys I've known for over a month by now.

One of the boys who starred on the team was catcher Brad Frank, the son of Toms River High School East baseball coach Bill Frank. That young man could talk, so it was easy to go to him to chat about what the time in Bristol was like.

I told Joe that I would not likely have a story until later in the afternoon because Beth and I were headed back to Toms River. She had packed her stuff for the four days we were together, two in Bristol, two in New Jersey. At least we hit the roads during the middle of a Friday workday.

We stopped to eat somewhere and got back to my parents' place late that afternoon. I started banging away on the story at the kitchen table on the Tandy TR-180 laptop that did me well throughout the trip. I sent it in to the Press by after 6 p.m. and waited to see what the story looked like the next day after the Press editors edited it.

Spoiler alert: I didn't give a shit what the Press editors did with my stories because it's hard to fight City Hall when THEY think they're doing a great job even as they misinterpret a point I'm making in the story. Whatever!

Beth and I spent the morning going out and doing some things in town. Originally, we had talked about going out to Williamsport together, but her back was just getting worse and it was the best idea to drive her to the Point Pleasant Beach train station and send her back to Queens where she lived and let her heal instead of the constant running around, which was upcoming for me.

After spending a few hours at work putting another story together for just our newspaper, I went home, got some sleep and then started anew.

Toms River East American had the only game on the docket on this Sunday, August 23 to open up the World Series. It was a 5:30 p.m. start, so I had plenty of time to pack in the morning and headed out by noon up the Garden State Parkway to I-280, then west into I-80 and into Pennsylvania where the mountains seemed regal as you looked around you. By around 4 p.m., I was in Lewisburg, Pa., and at the Quality Inn, the same hotel I stayed at three years earlier for the first Windsor Avenue Gang, which went 1-2 in the U.S. pool and didn't play in the final.

Keep this in mind: East American went 2-2 in pool play in Connecticut and made the semifinal round as a second seed, but thanks to the pitching of Casey Gaynor, the youngest son of manager Mike Gaynor, and Fisher, their next two opponents went away with goose eggs. Personally, I wasn't sure how much this team would hit after Todd Frazier and Fisher went 1-2 in the batting order, the two best hitters Mike Gaynor had.

Was I looking at being out of here by mid-week like the last time three years ago? I know it sounds cliche-ish, but for me, this group needed to take each game one at a time.

The first team up on the Little League World Series docket: The boys from Georgetown National in Jenison, Mich. I had never heard of Jenison until that moment. And imagine the irony: They had vanquished a team from Georgetown, Del., to win the regional, now it was another Georgetown the East American kids were playing. By the way, I found out that Jenison, Mich., is in the southwestern part of the state and is actually as close to Chicago than it is Detroit.

So there's the geography lesson of the day. Unlike three years ago when I had never been to Williamsport and showed up in the second inning of East American's 11-10 thrilling loss to Spring, Texas, I got to the stadium about 45 minutes before the game. And I noticed a big change from the previous visit. A new stadium was being built where the old parking lot was. That would end up being Volunteer Stadium, where international teams would play games in the Series.

I remembered certain places to go at the complex, so I walked over to get my credentials, then I made the trip into Lamade Stadium and up ramps until I got to where I would sit for my time there -- next to the ramp that led to the ABC/ESPN broadcast booth. It meant my view of everything in left field was obscured.

Fifteen seasons of covering Little League for my paper and this is what I get as a reward? Thanks for nothing! If something happened in left field or down the third-base line, I'd have to stand up and stretch as far as I could to see what was going on. I asked an official there if there was somewhere better to sit for this and he told me there wasn't and that all the seats were taken.

I bit my poisonous tongue without saying a word and accepted the, "Glad to be in the building" mantra.

As always, Mike Gaynor chose to be the visiting team after winning the coin toss. And this was a big deal: By the end of the game, it was announced 13,800 fans had come to Lamade Stadium to see the teams that came four and nine hours away. I knew the team I was there to cover traveled well, but those boys from Jenison had a large rooting section as well.

For this game, Gaynor sent his son to the mound with four day's rest. That was perfect for him. Georgetown National sent a young man to the hill named Tony Clausen, a bulldog who battled East American hitters ... when he found his accuracy.

The dangerous Frazier walked to start the game and three terrible pitches later, Frazier was home, the last being after a strikeout of Fisher. Though Mike Belostock walked and Joe Franceschini singled and yet another wild pitch put runners on second and third, Clausen showed cat-like reflexes to get to a two-out bunt attempt by Gaynor to throw hin out first to keep it 1-0.

In the bottom of the first inning, Gaynor ran into immediate trouble. Leadoff hitter Pete VanderKolk beat out an infield hit. Second hitter Casey Robrahn bunted for a base hit to put runners on first and second. And on a 2-1 pitch, Gaynor threw a meatball that No. 3 hitter Derek Stempin drilled 245 feet over the right-center field fene for a 3-1 lead.

I sat in my seat going, "Here we go again!" I read this damn script before: August 21, 1995, same field against those boys from the Northwest 45 Little League of Spring, Texas. Starting pitcher and future Major League ballplayer Jeff Frazier did not have it that day, and even when East American gave him a lead in the bottom of the sixth inning, he squandered it and Northwest 45 came from behind to win, 11-10, and ultimately cost East American a chance to play for the national championship.

One out later, Billy Miller singled up the middle, but Gaynor settled down to get Sean Markle to pop out and Brandon Button to ground out to third baseman Gabe Gardner.

Auspicious start, but I also knew these boys weren't going to be down that long. In the top of the second, a costly error by Robrahn at first put Eric Campesi on first with one out. No. 9 hitter Frank doubled down the left-field line to get Campesi to third and get the top of the lineup back up. Frazier grounded out to shortstop Markle, but that got Campesi home to make it 3-2. Though Fisher walked, Clausen struck out Gardner to end the inning, one of 10 strikeouts Clausen would have on the evening.

These boys from Jenison, I found out, were relentless. Brett Meyer opened the bottom of the second against Gaynor with a double to left field, pinch-hitter Ben Van Klompenberg singled him to third and a forceout by Vanderkolk to shortstop Frazier at second brought Meyer home to make it 4-2.

The top of the third came. And this was the moment when I realized the spotlight was not going to be too big for the boys I was there to cover.

After Belostock struck out looking, Franceschini -- all 4-foot-8 and 75 pounds of him -- poked a single to left field. Then Clausen had difficulty finding the plate again and walked Gaynor and Cris Cardone to load the bases. Clausen recovered to strike out Campesi swinging, leaving it up to the young man I could rely on to talk my ear off -- beside Todd Frazier.

It waas No. 9 hitter Frank, who, in my opinion, had the best eye at the plate. It's always these darned catchers! Frank worked the count to 3-2 and then he took a borderline outside pitch for ball four. Franceschini came trotting down the third-base line to make it 4-3.

And that meant Frazier was coming to the plate. Clausen had done all he could to avoid the heart of Frazier's aluminum bat in his first two at-bats. The count was 1-1 and the next pitch was probably not where Clausen wanted it. It was letter high and outside and it didn't matter much to Frazier.

That resounding "ping" off the bat meant that ball wasn't coming back. He belted it a good 260 feet away over the right-center field fence to give the Windsor Avenue Gang a 7-4 lead with his grand slam.

Todd Frazier's bat was alive -- and that meant bad news to anyone who faced him the rest of the Series.

But remember, Casey Gaynor was not having a good game on the mound. And Georgetown National knew it ... very well, they knew it!

Clausen singled to left field and one pitch later, Miller blasted another Gaynor meatball over the center field fence to cut the lead to 7-6. After that, Markle doubled to the left-center field gap and stole third. After two strikeouts, No. 9 hitter Van Klompenberg singled to right to bring home Markle and tie the game and when Campesi treated the ball like it was a hand grenade, Van Klompenberg moved to second.

Vanderkolk, who may not have had Frazier's power, but could hang with him as an effective leadoff hitter, then beat out an infield hit and when Robrahn's grounder swallowed Gardner up at third base for an error, Georgetown National was back up, 8-7.

These guys from the Wolverine State were like pests -- they would not go the hell away! And if you gave them an opening, they more than took advantage of it. Whether these guys remembered the other East American team playing in this event three years ago or not, they were willing to stand toe to toe and slug it out with the New Jersey boys for however long it was going to take.

Turns out it was going to take quite awhile.

Clausen settled down in the fourth to set East American hitters down 1-2-3. But Gaynor settled down and got a flyout, popout and groundout in a 1-2-3, three-pitch inning against Georgetown National.

In the top of the fifth, Gaynor walked and new left fielder R.J. Johansen singled to put runners on first and second with no out. Pinch-hitter Tom Gannon forced out Gaynor at third with a grounder, but Frank came through again: He blooped a single to right field to send Johansen home and tie the game at 8-all.

That meant the top of the lineup was back up, but Clausen got Frazier to fly out harmlessly and Fisher to lineout to second baseman Robrahn, keeping the game tied. By now, Clausen's pitch count was at 117.

Yes, I didn't stutter when I typed that, especially in this era of saving arms and pitch counts. Five innings, 117 pitches. And when Gaynor answered his fourth-inning 1-2-3 with two strikeotus and a groundout for another 1-2-3 inning, Clausen was back on the mound to start the sixth in a tie game.

East American fans were up and excited, knowing a run here and they could go home with the win with another solid Gaynor inning on the mound. But the big boppers -- Frazier and Fisher -- were now hitting 8-9 in the order in this inning, so it was the "other" guys who had to come through.

And Gardner, who struggled the whole evening with two strikeouts and a flyout, got it started by legginng out an infield hit. The go-ahead run was on. And on the first pitch to the next batter, Belostock, Gardner swiped second base.

Now he was in scoring position with no outs. On the very next pitch, a passed ball by catcher Miller had Gardner on third ... and one base away from giving East American the lead. All with no outs. Mike Gaynor had Belostock catch Georgetown National fielders sleeping by pushing a bunt toward the mound. Clausen checked Gardner back to third and threw to second baseman Robrahn at first for the first out.

But once again, the smallest player in the East American lineup delivered as Franceschini lined a single to right-center field to score Gardner to make it 9-8. However, just as East American got rolling, Gaynor grounded into a 6-4-3 double play.

Gaynor had recorded an "economical" 66 pitches, including that three-pitch, 1-2-3 fourth inning. Unlike his tepid start where he struggled, he had found his groove by now. Three outs, and East American survives.

But he was done. His father had made the decision to get Fisher, a hard-throwing left-hander and one of East's top pitchers, on the mound to get the save, save his son's arm and go into the next game at 1-0.

On four pitches, Fisher struck out Vanderkolk, the Georgetown leadoff hitter. One out.

On the very next pitch, Robrahn ground out to second baseman Franceschini. Two outs.

One out left. And up was Stempin, who had drilled a three-run, first-inning home run, but had fouled out and flied out since.

First pitch ... strike one. Second pitch ... swing and a miss. Strike two. One more strike and this was East American's game.

But Fisher missed the mark of where Frank wanted the pitch thrown. What happened here left me a while to pick my jaw up from off the floor.

The left-handed hitting Stempin nailed the 0-2 pitch and send the ball well over the right-field fence. The shot had to be around 300 feet. It was a breathtaking no-doubter. And we're tied at 9-all. Clausen hit a bullet on the next pitch, however right at Frazier to end the inning.

But on one swing, the damage was done. And suddenly it was extra innings between the clubs. Hadn't we gotten enough entertainment already?! It was almost 7:30 p.m. and I had a 10 p.m. deadline to meet with the Observer and an 11 p.m. deadline with the Press. Still, the weather was gorgeous that night and having free baseball was only appropriate for the level of fight both teams showed.

Chris Crawford, the East American center fielder and third player to be in the No. 8 slot of the order, singled against Clausen in the seventh to start the inning. But two outs later, Clausen wasn't having anything to do with Frazier, walking him on four pitches, the fourth a wild pitch that sent Crawford to third. That brought up Fisher, but he got under a pitch and popped out to first baseman Van Klompenberg.

Clausen, now at 147 pitches, survived.

Things got hairy for Fisher in the bottom of the seventh inning. With one out, he hit Markle. Pinch-hitter John Sheeran bunted him to second and a passed ball on the very next pitch by Frank had Markle looking at home plate and ending the game. It was suddenly "Panic Time." Two pitches later, though, pinch-hitter Kody Fennema hit a harmless comebacker to Fisher and we went on to the eighth inning.

Gardner walked and two strikeouts later, Gaynor, now playing first base, singled to right. But Crawford grounded out, giving the Georgetown National players a chance to end the game. especially with the top of the order coming up. Though Robrahn beat out an infield hit, he was forced out at second by Stempin, who Fisher was careful to pitch to this time.

After throwing 174 pitches, Clausen was done. He survived. Now it was Stempin, a left-hander, who came in to keep the East American bats down. But for the third time in the game, Frank delivered a hit, this time a single to center field. And once again, Frazier was carefully pitched to, drawing another walk, his third of the game. On a 1-2 pitch, Fisher just got under what could have been a long ride over the center-field fence. Instead, Clausen, who switched with Stempin, grabbed the flyball out. Gardner struck out on a foul tip into the catcher's mitt, and once again, Georgetown National had another chance to end the game.

Robrahn beat out a two-out infield hit, but a Stempin forceout at second ended the threat.

It was now the 10th inning ... and it was after 8 p.m., and I'm starting to worry (again) about making deadline. All our guys needed was a run ... and hopefully soon!

With one out in the 10th, Franceschini reached on a walk. But on a 2-2 pitch, Gaynor hit a grounder to second base where Robrahn fielded the ball, stepped on second and threw to Van Klompenberg for another double play to end the threat.

But Fisher was up to the task again, getting the Nos. 7-8-9 batters out on two strikeouts and a groundout.

Onto the 11th inning. By now, this was the longest game in the history of the Little League World Series. We were all told this in the press box. The previous longest game was in 1971. I'm thinking as the time ticks away on my 10 p.m. deadline, "God has an amusing way of punishing me." I was hating this whole new system Gannett set up for us and was hating wit now more than ever. 

What a time to stab your eyes out with toothpicks.

The 11th inning started with an innocent walk by Stempin to Crawford. One pitch later, Miller tried to catch Crawford sleeping with a pickoff throw, but it was low and skipped into right field, allowing Crawford to scamper to second base with the go-ahead run.

Campesi sacrifice bunted Crawford up to third, putting him in scoring position.

But throughout the course of the evening into night time, we'd been here before. This time, though, it was Frank's turn at the plate. He was already 3-for-3 with a walk and a sacrifice bunt.

Two pitches later, he was 4-for-4. Frank ripped a single to center field and Crawford dashed in with the go-ahead run, 10-9.

And Frazier was coming to the plate. Well ... he was coming to the plate, but Georgetown National's manager and coaching staff weren't allowing Frazier to do any damage. Four balls later, it was first and second. And when Fisher grounded out to Van Klompenberg at first, there was two outs and runners on second and third.

Gardner came to the plate. One more out and Georgetown National had a chance to tie it in the bottom of the 11th inning. It was 2-1 on Gardner when he made contact with a grounder heading toward shortstop Markle's way, a play he's probably made hundreds of times before.

But not this time. It was as if Bill Buckner had revisited this young boy's body as the ball went under his glove and legs, allowing Frank and Frazier to score to make it 12-9.

It would be reported a couple of days later that the young man who already felt awful about the error that ended up opening this game up for East American got a telegram from a man who was watching this game and did what he could to pick the boy's spirits back up and encourage him.

That man who sent the telegram of support? Country music superstar Garth Brooks.

But no one was more affected by the costly error than Stempin, who walked Belostock, hit Franceschini with a pitch and walked Gaynor to force home Gardner to make it 13-9. Stempin eventually got a forceout for the third out, but the damage was seriously done.

Fisher had the top of the Georgetown National lineup to start the 11th, so he had to be careful again. He got Vanderkolk and Robrahn on groudouts to start the 11th. That brought up Stempin, the young man who with one swing made this game go another hour. Ugh! This time, Stempin beat out an infield hit to the right side of the field, his third hit of the game.

It did no damage. Four pitches later, Clausen, who bravely threw 174 pitches in eight innings of work, hit a pop-up that Frazier gloved for the final out.

At 8:24 p.m., two hours and 51 minutes after the game started, it was finally -- FINALLY!!! -- over.

East American won the longest game in Little League World Series history, 13-9, in 11 innings.

Remembering how the press conferences worked after the game, I had to head downstairs to an area near the front of the entrance way to the stadium off on the side. By the time Mike Gaynor arrived with a pair of players, it was 8:40 p.m. and I'm asking him to go through his mindset of what had transpired on the field in those nearly three hours, especially the move to taking his son out and putting Fisher in to finish it up and how that would hurt him going forward.

Calm, cool and collected, Mike Gaynor said he didn't worry one bit about it. His pitching staff would be fine. For the next game against a team from California, he went with Frazier. East American won, 4-2, as Frazier threw 92 pitches in the complete game. The following night, Gaynor came back with his son on one-day's rest and threw 73 pitches this time in a 5-3 triumph over Tar Heel Little League of Greenville, N.C. For the U.S. championship against Tar Heel two days after that, Fisher pitched the entire game, a 5-2 win, and threw 78 pitches.

Turns out Gaynor was right about the pitching staff. And those who followed this East American Little League to the championship know the rest of the story.

As for my story, I had to get it done for our paper in just under an hour. It felt like a novel ... like this blog piece! But it didn't take as long as it did to tell you all the details. I sent the story to my boss, Al Ditzel, who was now sitting for me on desk on this Sunday night when I would normally play editor. Than I had to do it all over again for the Asbury Park Press and write a completely different angle to the story.

I was done just before 11 p.m. It was a loooooong day, from packing in the morning, to the nearly four-hour trip to the area, to getting into my hotel room, then turning around and heading up US-15 to the stadium, and enduring the longest game in the history of the World Series to finishing two stories and then going back to the hotel and just plunking myself down on the bed and not waking up until 8 the next morning.

This game was simply one of those moments that defined an entire team. East American's Windsor Avenue Gang II did not back down. They weren't allowed to ... there were too many people sitting in those seats behind them that wanted the best for them. And those kids delivered a World Series title six days later.

But the game against the boys of Jenison will live on in history.

It wasn't the championship ... but it sure felt like it was.