Gripping ride shared with many
By John Carroll
Columbus Community News
Columbus has just lost to Illinois in Game 3 of pool play in the Little League World Series, and I need a stiff drink and a cigarette.
The good news is I don't drink or smoke. The bad news is I'm so stressed that the pain in my shoulders and neck is killing me. To make matters worse, the obnoxious Illinois coach rubs it in our face by doing a stupid victory dance at home plate, while our heartbroken boys fight back tears.
I turn off the TV and go outside for some fresh air. A light drizzle falls on my ball cap. See what you get for investing yourself emotionally in a group of 12- and 13-year-old kids? I think to myself. Haven't I learned my lesson over the last 15 years from watching all of those late-night Braves playoff games?
I've discovered that the drama of post-season baseball is just as gripping and intense at the Little League level as it is in the Major Leagues. Whether it's Francisco Cabrera or Josh Lester at the plate, I hang on every pitch.
"Swung on! Line drive! Here comes Sid Bream!" screamed Skip Caray in the seventh game of the 1992 NLCS between Atlanta and Pittsburgh. "The youngsters from Georgia are in danger of not even making the semifinals!" exclaimed Brent Musburger in the fourth inning of the Illinois game.
My phone rings. It's my wife. She's frantic. "What did the announcer mean by that?" she inquires. Ah, this is good, I think. Even my wife is caught up in this thing and she's not even a baseball fan.
Two days later she and I are flying to Maine to celebrate our 10th wedding anniversary. The trip has been planned for months. We have tickets to the James Taylor concert our first night there. During the show, my buddy back home is text messaging me updates from the Columbus-New Hampshire game.
Can it get any better than this? A lobster dinner, the sweet sounds of J.T. and a personal play-by-play of the Columbus game on my cell phone. "Lester hits 3-run triple in second! Columbus up 4-0!" the message reads.
"How sweet it is .... to be loved by you," I sing energetically with J.T. and 10,000 other fans.
At intermission, my wife and I wonder outside for some air when my phone rings. It's my good friend in Atlanta. "Kyle Carter just went deep!" he yells. "Columbus is up 8-zip."
Two days later, my wife and I are in our bed and breakfast room watching Columbus play Oregon in the U.S. championship game. I turn off my cell phone because the battery is low and I don't want to be disturbed during the game.
After the final out, I switch my phone back on and see that there is a message from my 9-year-old son. I mash a button and listen to his excited and beautiful voice.
"Dad! We won! We won! Call back when you get this message. We won! We're gonna play the international champion in the World Series! Go Columbus! Love you. Out."
Columbus had just beaten Oregon 7-3 to advance to the world championship game. My son was calling to share the moment with me. I still haven't erased his precious voice mail.
But this is where the fairy-tale run was supposed to end for the Columbus little leaguers. Against Japan for the world title. Just like Phenix City had done in 1999. They won the U.S. championship, but lost to Japan for all the marbles.
"Win or lose, we're champions," manager Randy Morris said to the team in the first inning. "All I ask is that you leave it all on the field. This is your last Little League game."
Then Cody Walker went deep. Carter pitched a gem. And Columbus won the game 2-1 to become the world champions. Everybody I talked to has adjectives to describe the boys' feat. Electric. Unbelievable. Thrilling. Amazing. Emotional.
At the Georgia Tech-Notre Dame game in Atlanta, where the team was honored at halftime, I asked Kyle Carter when was he the most nervous during the Series. "I was never nervous," he said. You had to have been a little nervous at some point, I probed. "Never nervous." The kid is either lying, not human or has nerves of steel.