Cocky, Cohesive & Clutch: The REAL, Behind-the-Scenes Story of the 2004 Champion Oceanside Sailors

It was a bullet in the hole. 

I shuffled to my left and laid out, but couldn't get a damn glove on it. I slammed both hands down on the infield turf, and kept my head down in disgust. 

Then the crowd erupted. 

Confused, I quickly picked my head up and peered across the diamond -- the Smithtown batter was walking back toward his dugout, shaking his head in disbelief. 

I looked back over my left shoulder, and there was our All-Conference shortstop Jimmy Kelly, smirking. 

"I got you," he said. 

Astonisingly, Jimmy had sprinted behind me, backhanded the hard-hit ball and gunned down the runner...all the way from left field. 

It was 10-9, in the bottom of the 7th of the 2004 Long Island Championship Game. The old saying in baseball is that the lead-off runner scores over 60 percent of the time. Jimmy kept the lead-off man off base. Big right-hander Matt Wynn, in a clutch relief performance, took care of the rest. 

That's who the 2004 Oceanside Sailors were. We had each other's backs. And we still do, to this day. 

PART I: Our Induction into the Oceanside Hall of Fame

On the evening of November 13, 2018, our '04 County and Long Island Championship team was inducted into Oceanside's "Circle of Pride." Essentially, that's our Hall of Fame. It was a wonderful honor, and a fun night. 

Our assistant coach, Richie Woods, spoke on behalf of the team. Coach Woods put forth a valiant effort, recounting as many of the season's pivotal moments as he could. Alas, there's only so much one can say in a limited amount of time. A number of others were also being inducted into the Circle of Pride that night. 

So, we came away from the evening grateful and honored; but we all knew there was more to the story. The nitty-gritty details. The behind-the-scenes secrets. And it's time to tell the real story, right now...

PART II: Building the Core of a Championship Team

My incredible father-in-law, Michael Solow, is the President of Lynbrook Little League. Nowadays, he's lucky to get enough 11 and 12-year old players to field two teams. Back in 1998, when the '04 Sailors were in little league, there were twelve "Majors" teams. Oceanside Little League was so big that it was divided in half, into "American" and "National."

So, the best players in Oceanside were separated for much of the baseball season. Sam Ytuarte was the star of one team. Wynn the star of another. Frank Valeriano led a different team. Vinne Tricarico was a force. Some kid named "Johnny Fro" carried a team of his own, and Dan Kourie was the superstar of the National League.

One of our major advantages was that our managers were baseball lifers. My father John, Frank Valeriano Sr., Jimmy Kelly Sr., Rich Conte Sr. and Guy Tricarico were dedicated baseball men. They grew up when baseball was America's Pastime. Baseball was, and is, in their blood. We had proper instruction from the very beginning.

In the summers, our tournament teams remained separate. Sam, Frank, Jimmy and I never played with Dan, Eddie Risener, Peter and Mike Kirby or Evan Hernstat. For most of the year, we were rivals. Bitter competition breeds success. 

But we all knew we had talent; it was simply spread about town. Our best players couldn't wait to join forces. 

In 8th grade, we finally got our chance. 

Playing for Matt's father, George Wynn, we demolished all comers. Back in those days, I led off; followed by Frank, Matt, Dan, Vinne and Sam. We lost only one game that season. I believe we were 11-1. We were only 14 years old, but we were already confident, talented and together. We felt invincible. We never thought we would lose. 

During the summertime, as teens, we all played for excellent travel teams. Sam, Dan, Matt, Vinne and I played for the Long Island Tigers and won a National Championship. We played for legendary coach and umpire, Lou Petrucci, who managed Steven Matz and umpired Division-I baseball. My dad was our assistant coach. As core members of Lou's championship Tigers, we played in pressure-packed games, all over the country. 

We learned how to win tight games. We learned how to rely on each other, as brothers. 

The Kirbys, Risener, Hernstat, Chris Pearsall, Eric Feibusch and Anthony Conte all played high-level summer ball with the Oceanside Riptides. Even Jimmy played one season, with occasional appearances by Bobby Engelhard. The resilient Riptides were well-coached by Richie Conte Jr. (Anthony's older brother, a former Oceanside baseball star) and Pete and Mike's father, baseball-savvy Neil Kirby. They also went deep into some extremely competitive travel tournaments. 

Off the field, we spent all of our time together, playing wiffle ball, basketball, video games, etc. We were inseparable all year long. That goes a long way for team camaraderie. 

But you can only be kids, hangin' out for so long. Then high school comes. 

PART III: A Tight-Knit Team Begins High School Ball 

"High school ball" sounded intimidating, but not much changed. 

Under then-rookie manager Mike Postilio (who is now Oceanside's varsity head coach) and assistant coach Chris LoPiccolo, the Ytuarte-Kourie-Valeriano-Wynn-Frascella core went 21-3. Tricarico, John Grilli and Mikey Tierney were also key contributors to the team's dominance. 

Jimmy, Eddie, Mike, Pete, Evan, Eric, Chris, Bobby and Mikey Menna were still down in the middle school. Their time in the spotlight would come. 

In 2002, with some guys on varsity, some on JV and even one in the middle school (A.Conte), it was impossible for our group to maintain its unparalleled chemistry. Guys were all over the place. Results were mixed. 

So, when many of us rejoined forces for the 2003 varsity team, things weren't quite the same. Legendary manager Andy Morris had to learn the ins and outs of our group, which meant that some players were out of position. Some guys were batting where they normally wouldn't. The pitching rotation was a bit out of order. 

On pure talent and experience, we made the playoffs, despite the disjointed nature of the season. We didn't last long, as Farmingdale's polished left-hander, Keith Karlson, made quick work of us in the opening game of the postseason.  

One-and-done. We used to think we couldn't lose. Was the magic gone?

PART IV: The Magical 2004 Season Begins...

We came into the 2004 season talkin' smack. 

Yeah, we got bounced quickly in '03, but something felt different. In the preseason, the local papers were all talking about Plainview, Massapequa, Syosset and Mepham. No one was talking about us. We took offense. 

Trust me, you don't want to play us with a chip on our shoulder. 

So, we strutted around the hallways of the high school as if we had already won something. It was our little secret. Sam, Jimmy, Frank, Dan, Matt...we all knew what was in store for our competitors. The freight train was coming. Morris and Woods didn't quite understand it...yet. 

When we finally reached the regular season, we started rollin' right out of the gate. Sammy and I were dominating on the mound. Dan, Jimmy, Frankie and Matt were fantastic two-way threats -- hitting the piss out of the ball and playing spotless D in the field. Grilli was in the midst of a career year. Vinne and Evan played tremendous defense in left field. Mike Kirby was on base as much as anyone (usually getting hit by pitches). 

Our bench was, by far, the best in the County. I mean, really, second-to-none. 

Pete Kirby would have been a front-line starter on other high school teams. He also popped a couple dingers at the plate. Bobby had one of the most powerful bats in the County; he was also a solid long man out of the bullpen. Two more Mikes, Tierney and Menna, brought speed, unselfishness and timely hitting when called upon. 

Eddie would have been a full-time starting catcher on virtually every other team. He had a live bat and excellent leadership skills. Eric, though unassuming in stature, was another legit two-way threat -- he could field and hit well. Chris was one of the fastest athletes in all of Nassau County. He went on to secure a collegiate track scholarship. Evan improved every single year. By the time we reached men's league, he was easily one of our premier all-around players.

Frank threw 92 MPH and featured a devastating breaking ball...and he was our No. 4 starting pitcher. What kind of high school team is that?

There were no holes on our team. And we all knew it. We weren't exactly modest about it, either. 

We knew something special was happening when we took the season series from our hated rivals, the Massapequa Chiefs, at 'Pequa. From JV up through senior year, our match-ups with 'Pequa were always nip-and-tuck. Often they'd clip us in tight games at their field. 

But not in 2004. In a 4-4 game of a 1-1 series, I hit a three-run homer off my buddy and summer-ball teammate, Chris Edgar, to put us up 7-4 in the 7th. To close it out, our defense behind me was spectacular. Massapequa was hitting rockets off me all game, but Dan, Matt, Frank, Jimmy and Anthony kept coming up with one big play after another. It was another total team effort, and a huge series win. 

We knew we could beat anyone, then. 

PART V: The Playoffs

Again, we were being disrespected.

Leading into an early playoff game against Mepham, Newsday was ranting and raving about how good they were. All of the press was about their left-handed flamethrower, Mike Gionesi, who was getting plenty of attention from pro scouts.

We had no intention of bowing down for Mr. Gionesi. He was about to be taught a lesson.

Wynn greeted him rudely, with a two-run single that plated M.Kirby and Kourie. I followed with a two-run double. When I reached second base, I looked over into the stands and our fans were going bonkers. I yelled at the top of my lungs in excitement. Mepham's shortstop Evan Okon, who was considered a serious prospect, looked at me as if I was nuts. He also looked scared. And defeated.

After getting knocked around a while longer, Gionesi kept looking over at his manager. He was hoping to get yanked. He couldn't take the beating any longer. But it didn't end there.

Shortly after, with runners on, Wynn hit an absolute missile into Gionesi's leg. The big left-hander tumbled into the dirt. He was flopping around on the ground like a fish out of water. We laughed and poured it on, because that's who we were.

Ask any parent, teacher or administrator about our group off the field, and they will tell you we are polite, respectful and caring. That's because it's true. But on the field, we morphed. We weren't nice. We never showed the opposing team much respect. We just wanted to beat everyone. No mercy.

In that game, our lefty -- the REAL lefty in the match-up -- Sam Ytuarte, dominated Mepham's supposedly superb hitters. They looked as if they had never played baseball against Sam. That's how dominant he was.

But then came Plainview -- the first time. We got off to a really rough start, and people seem to forget about that. 

We had secured a two-loss elimination cushion for the postseason; but it looked like we were about to cough up one of those losses. In fact, our early struggles against Plainview were all my fault. Everything I threw in the first inning got hammered. They didn't seem fooled by my junk at all, and their home crowd was having a field day at my expense. They were maniacs in the stands. They spit on the home-plate umpire. Literally. 

We were down 3-0 in the first, and Coach Morris strolled slowly out to the mound. Two guys were warming in the bullpen. He took the ball out of my hand. 

"I can't get a f***king out," I said. 

"Well, you better start gettin' em," he replied. 

"You going to the pen?"

"Nope," he said, "you're pitching this whole game, one way or another. I don't care what the score is."

Then he flipped the ball back to me, and walked away. That was it. 

I proceeded to throw a no-hitter for the rest of the game. We came back and won because Plainview's starting pitcher, intimidating lefty Tom Hopkins, walked one too many batters. We had patient at bats all game, and eventually he cracked. He threw in the upper-80s, but over the long haul, he was no match for our professional hitters. We pushed him past his breaking point. 

I may or may not have made some impolite comments to him during the game. I don't think he approved. This came back to haunt me. 

A few days later, we dispatched Massapequa from the postseason, behind another lights-out performance from Sammy. Our hated rivals were no match for us in '04. Like that, they were gone. 

PART VI: The County Championship

Of course, we circled back to Plainview. The year prior, they made it all the way to the State Finals. But three of their star players, Bryan Cipolla, Jason Appel and Jason Bonder, had since graduated, so we knew the door was ajar. It was still our time. This new Plainview team was led by Hopkins, electric ace pitcher Ben Green, shortstop Mike Rutcofsky and defensive whiz Jared Stoler (who now coaches in the Oceanside system). 

These guys weren't about to roll over and play dead. And there was bad blood between the teams. An explosion was looming. 

Green and I were locked in a pitcher's duel in Game 1. In a 0-0 tie in the 5th, Coach Morris picked a good time to make his best move of the season. 

As Green continued to mow us down, featuring a near 90 MPH fastball and a wicked breaking ball, Morris felt he had to shake things up. He looked down his bench and found his man: Engelhard. The 6'3" power hitter always had a chance to catch lightning in a bottle, with thunder in his bat.

As a pinch hitter, Bobby strolled up there looking awfully relaxed. Mike Kirby turned to me, and said:

"He could hit one out, right here."

"He's the man to do it," I replied.

A moment later...KABOOM! Bobby delivered with a beautifully-struck solo homer to right field. The raucous Plainview crowd was stunned. On the hill, Green was confused -- he hadn't given up more than a single all season.

Morris just nodded, as if he knew what was coming. Talk about a clutch homer.

Plainview then chipped away to tie it at 1, which brought us to the now-infamous 6th inning. 

I was in a jam with runners on the corners. I had just walked Hopkins, who was chirping at me from first base. Earlier in the game, I caught his weak pop-up and talked shit to him. He said I should watch myself. 

With Hopkins leading off first, I picked him off in a blink. He was in a pickle, and it wasn't going to end well for him. Here's Newsday's explanation of what happened. 

Here's what really happened: I threw to Wynn, Hopkins sprinted toward 2nd, Wynn threw to Kelly, I ran to 1st to back Wynn up, then Hopkins turned back toward 1st, where I was covering the bag. 

I saw his eyes light up. 

He had been telling me to watch myself, and this was his chance. He charged at me like a wild bull. I am not a matador in my spare time. 

So picture Hopkins, roughly 6'4" and athletically-built, charging at little Fro, all of 5'8" and 160 pounds. When Hopkins hammered me with his forearm, it didn't take long for the benches to empty. Mayhem ensued. Newsday left this out of their story. 

I hopped up off the dirt and stormed at Hopkins. 

"What are you gonna do, little man?" he asked. (A reasonable question, I'd say.)

"I'm gonna f**k you up!" I screamed. 

He laughed. 

As I raised my right arm in retaliation, someone grabbed me from behind. I was ready to throw a punch...but it was Coach Morris. 

"You're not getting thrown out of this game," he said. A wise man. 

Instead, Vinne came all the way from left field to corral Hopkins. There was pushing and shoving on both sides, and eventually the umpires broke up the fracas. When it was all said and done, Hopkins got tossed. I got to stay in the game and keep pitching. 

Green and I traded metaphorical blows until we got the break we needed. With a man on third and two outs, I was up against Green in extra innings. His fastball still had a lot of life on it. I was impressed by what a bulldog he was. 

Lo and behold, he overpowered me with one of those upper-80s fastballs. I was late, and popped up weakly over to Scott Eliot at first base. 

But something just didn't look right. Eliot's legs looked shaky, and the ball was wobbling in the air. It wasn't a particularly windy day, but I swear a gust blew at that very moment. What started as a weak pop-up, rapidly became a very difficult play. 

A play Eliot wouldn't make. 

He dropped the ball, and the go-ahead run scored. My understanding is that, to this day, he's still tormented by Plainview fans. I really do feel bad for the kid. He seemed like a very nice fellow. 

Nevertheless, we'll take runs any way we can get them. I nailed it down in the bottom-half of the inning, and we took a 1-0 lead in the best-of-three series. 

Adding insult to injury for Plainview, Hopkins was suspended for Game 2 for his "absolutely malicious" forearm to my neck. He was their scheduled starting pitcher. Instead, they were forced to use an inexperienced pitcher with well below-average stuff. 

We cleaned his clock. It was a blowout from the get-go. 

Again -- like he always has -- Sammy delivered with a clutch performance on the mound. The Plainview offense had no answer for Sammy's famous tailing fastball. They poked, prodded and whiffed. They continually came up empty. 

We cruised to an easy victory, and the 2004 Nassau County Championship was ours. 

PART VII: The Long Island Championship Game

Why this wasn't a best-of-three series? I'll never know. The County Championship was best-of-three. 

And yet, in a way, the Long Island Championship game ended up as a best-of-three. How could it be both, you ask?

Rain. Lots of rain. Not to mention thunder and lightning. The game started and stopped multiple times. The bus ride was well over an hour, each way. We went back-and-forth three separate times. It was impossible for anyone to get a rhythm.

It was a tight game after the first two stoppages, but when we returned to the field, Smithtown took a commanding lead. The home-plate umpire wouldn't call any strikes for me, Sam or Smithtown's star pitcher, Shane Sveda. It was an excruciating game for pitchers on both sides. I got hit hard. Frankie hit two clutch homers for us. Dan smashed another. Balls were flying all over the park.

When the fireworks finally stopped, we looked up at the score and it was 9-4, Smithtown. It was the top of the 7th. Last licks. Three little outs away from devastating disappointment.

What ensued was a bizarre and astonishing comeback. We knew the umpire's strikezone was extremely small, so we talked strategy in the dugout. Take some pitches. Work the count. Put all of the pressure on their pitcher. This was a veteran strategy from a group of 16, 17 and 18 year-olds.

And, by God...it worked.

One after another, our guys either walked, got hit by pitches or grinded their way on base. You could see the panic on the faces of the Smithtown infielders. None of their guys wanted the ball. They were hoping it wouldn't come to them. Then, in the biggest moment, their shortstop booted a slow-rolling grounder.

The impossible had happened. In our final at bat, we came back from a 9-4 deficit to take a shocking 10-9 lead.

That brings us back to where we started. Hard-hit ball in the hole. Jimmy makes a spectacular play. Matt slams the door on Smithtown.

The Oceanside Sailors, miraculously, became the 2004 Long Island champions.

PART VIII: Conclusion: What Made This Group Special?

We weren't the biggest team on Long Island. We weren't the most talented. 

But we were the most cohesive. At all times, we were a unit. We had some big individual personalities, but everyone played for the greater good of the team. We were clutch. We never gave our opponents too much respect. We always played with something to prove. We had inherent belief in ourselves as individual players, as well as the collective ability of the team. 

Matt Wynn and John Grilli were selected for the All-Division team. 

Jimmy Kelly, Frank Valeriano and I were honored to be All-Conference award winners. 

Sam Ytuarte and Dan Kourie were deservedly selected first-team, All-State. 

And now, here we are nearly 15 years later, and many of us are as close as ever. I got married to my beautiful wife Jennifer this year, and Frank was one of my groomsmen. And I had two best men: Sam and Jimmy. 

The 2004 Oceanside Sailors...

Teammates for life.