Cypress Boys Meet 1st Heartbreak ... at World Series

Alex Alba, who just minutes earlier had hammered a two-run homer and had been pitching a near-perfect game in the Cypress Federal all-stars’ first Little League World Series match, hung his head Monday and cried.

“I don’t know what happened,” the 12-year-old pitcher said. “One minute I was flying, we were all flying, and the next minute it was gone.”

Alex and his teammates--the 14 boys from Cypress who had risen so steadily, so quietly, through six weeks of Little League competition that they were known as Orange County’s “Stealth Team”--took their loss hard.

Blame it on errors, bad hitting, questionable calls. Blame it on first-game jitters at the Little League World Series in Williamsport, Pa., or the overconfidence of an undefeated team. None of it mattered. None of them cared. It just hurt.

“God, look at them,” said Katherine Cassa as she watched her son Pat and the rest of the squad shuffle past the victorious opposing team from Toms River, N.J. “This is the worst. They haven’t felt loss before. They haven’t cried.”

Said Cala Campbell, whose son Cory plays second base: “They’ve just been living a dream all this time, and now they get all the way here and get a big old dose of reality.”

The loss came after a day of easy practices and morning rain delays, with Manager Greg Novy ordering the boys to stay in the dormitories rather than have their energy sapped by late-afternoon heat and humidity. They played whiffle ball and pingpong and watched two of the earlier World Series games as they were broadcast on ESPN.

By game time, they were “going out of their minds” with anticipation, said Coach Dave Koscielak. “They were so ready to play,” he said. “They just wanted to get out there.”

They made a strong debut. Their parents, clad in bright yellow T-shirts to match the team’s jerseys, cheered loudly and danced often. They whooped it up in a yelling match against the particularly rowdy New Jersey fans, who suddenly fell silent when Alex Alba popped his home run in the bottom of the fifth inning.

“Whoooo-hooooo!” hollered Kevin Wesley, whose son Zach plays first base. “That’ll shush you up.”

Not for long.

When the team from the East responded with four stinging runs, it was the Cypress fans who piped down. Al Alba, watching his grandson from the stands, shook his head and stared at the field. He said softly, to no one in particular: “I’m sorry, Babe. Hang in there. Please hang in.”

As the game ended in defeat, the families rallied to cheer wildly for their boys as they filed in a sad line into the dugout. Already they were talking about tomorrow, about coming back, about moving on and learning from the loss. They shouted at the team to be strong, to be proud. They made big plans for tonight’s game against a Michigan team that has already lost two games in the World Series.

“If they had to lose one, maybe it’s good they lost this one,” said Linda Wingo, whose son Zach plays shortstop. “I mean, they’ve never lost a game, not one single game. Maybe this will be a nice shot in the pants. Maybe this will show them what they’ve got to do.”

John Meixel, whose son Scott plays outfield, said it will all be a memory soon anyway. “This is real, this is baseball,” he said. “No matter what happens, they will never forget this, not any of it. They’ll have it forever. It’s all theirs.”

Hearing that, Zach Wingo pulled his cap over his face and buried it in his hands. “Whatever,” he said softly.