WIN OR ‘YOU’RE OUT!’ Parents say the upscale Baseball Heaven complex in Yaphank has upped the already cutthroat world of Long Island youth baseball. (Victor Alcorn)
WIN OR ‘YOU’RE OUT!’ Parents say the upscale Baseball Heaven complex in Yaphank has upped the already cutthroat world of Long Island youth baseball. (
)
It was supposed to be his moment of revenge.
Robert Sanfilippo, 45, had been an enthusiastic parent, cheering for the Long Island Inferno, a youth-baseball league for 10-year-old boys — until his son was passed over for starting shortstop.
Instead, the son of the new assistant coach, John Reardon, was chosen.
For most parents, the moment could have been a minor disappointment and perhaps a teaching opportunity about good sportsmanship.
Instead, Sanfilippo pulled his son from the squad and started a team with a name that taught his son a different lesson: the Long Island Vengeance.
This past Memorial Day, at Baseball Heaven in Yaphank, a professionally manicured sports facility that hosts baseball tournaments for kids, the Vengeance was ready to settle the score against the Inferno.
Little Jack Reardon stood confidently on the pitcher’s mound as Sanfilippo’s son — decked out in a $300 baseball helmet with a skull-and-crossbones insignia airbrushed on its side — came up to bat.
The two coach dads eyed each other across the diamond.
Sanfilippo, who lives in a large mansion in the tony suburb of Huntington, had shelled out $50,000 to outfit his team with top-of-the-line gear. He recruited 20 kids through newspaper ads and poached from rival teams, offering them “free baseball.”
But money couldn’t buy Sanfilippo a win — his son struck out against Jack to end the game.
“Yeah!” coach John Reardon cheered and fist-pumped from the sideline for his son’s winning pitch. The rival coach’s glee was more than Sanfilippo could handle. From the opposite side of the diamond, the enraged father came lunging at his counterpart.
“I’m going to kick your ass in the parking lot,” he screamed, according to sworn testimony that John Reardon gave to the cops.
Reardon swore back at him, and the angry fathers separated as the teams cleared out of the sports complex. They seemed to forget it was only a game, played by 10-year-olds. But then, in Suffolk County, youth baseball is a religion — and not really about the kids.
It was two months before Reardon heard from Sanfilippo again. “See you at Baseball Heaven, scumbag.”
It was 1:32 p.m. on Thursday, Aug. 23, and the text on Reardon’s cellphone had come from an unknown number, according to a court filing in Suffolk County District Court obtained by The Post.
Reardon didn’t immediately connect the menacing words back to the ugly incident on the field from months back. He was too concerned with the fact that the text came with a picture of Jack, his son.
Three minutes later, his phone beeped again. This time he was staring at a picture of his own modest home in Commack and a message, “I’m your bad dream motherf–ker.”
And then less than 30 minutes later, a picture of Reardon’s wife with a message: “Trying to figure out what your wife looks like.”
The texts continued through the afternoon: two more pictures of his house with the message “Figured you for a nicer house, did you spend all of that money you stole on lawyers, you fat jerkoff?”
“Your so f–kin blind you think I have something to do with your little faggot sons baseball s–t,” the harasser wrote. “I’m out and been waiting to see you, 37 months is a long time to wait John.”
It’s unclear to what the 37 months referred, though that’s roughly how long it had been since Sanfilippo’s son had left the Inferno.
Reardon received eight more texts the following day, with more pictures of his family.
“I got it, she looks like you,” one said, accompanied by another photo of his wife. “You will never see it coming Reardon.”
It was when he received a picture of his son and a blatant threat that Reardon called the police: “Maybe I’ll pick him up at the bus stop for you next week . . . When I get done with you you’ll move, sleep tight, a–hole. You have no idea who you are dealing with, tell Jack not to talk to strangers. You’re an a–hole, another guy you f–ked over.”
Sanfilippo was arrested on Sept. 22 at Baseball Heaven, and charged with 20 counts of aggravated harassment and one count of stalking after police traced the threatening texts to a phone card purchased after the Memorial Day showdown, police said.
Reardon identified Sanfilippo on a security video from a CVS in Northport, where he was seen buying a phone card and a case of water, dressed in a Vengeance T-shirt, with a white skull and two baseball bats as crossbones across the chest.
Sanfilippo heads back to court on Oct. 23 and faces up to 20 years in prison. “I think Robert wanted to coach, and he was jealous,” Reardon said in a sworn statement to the police.
Sanfilippo might be an extreme example, but he’s one of many fathers who have turned a supposedly fun after-school pastime into a nasty game of Daddy Ball.
“I’ve been coaching for 32 years, and the most delusional people on earth are a select group of NBA players and youth-athlete parents,” said a longtime Little League coach.
“Winning takes over, and that’s all they want to do. That’s all they care about. The saying among coaches is, ‘The reason we coach Little League is so our own sons get an inordinate amount of playing time.’ It’s fiercely competitive.”
Little League, where all the kids bat and get equal field time, has given way to cutthroat tryout groups called “travel leagues” — to which the Inferno and Vengeance both belonged. These often cost more than $2,000 a year to join.
“In travel baseball, you’re not going to have a kid out in right field picking his nose,” said a longtime coach. “All the players are all-star caliber. They’re there because their parents think they have a future in baseball and they want to win.”
Parents also said the Long Island baseball scene has reached a new fever pitch since Baseball Heaven opened eight years ago.
The facility — complete with a pro shop and a baseball café — is run by Frank Zitaglio, known as Frankie Z, a retired firefighter who also runs all the umpires on Long Island.
When Zitaglio started organizing a $4,000-per-player summer league out of Baseball Heaven, scheduling games and recruiting players, parents say it became more difficult for independent teams to stay afloat and remain competitive.
“They’re taking your money with one hand and your players with another,” fumed one Little League coach. “Independent teams have trouble lasting a year. And the game is getting more competitive.”
Zitaglio refused to comment for the story.
Almost every season, there are allegations of cheating.
“I had an instance in the travel league where we were in the playoffs, where each team is supposed to have an umpire,” recalled the longtime coach.
“The other coach tells me he has two card-carrying umpires. We get there, and he’s only got one, and it turns out it was his brother-in-law who owed him money. Guess who’s team never had a chance?”
It’s not just Long Island parents who have succumbed to youth-baseball mania.
Philadelphia cop and little league coach Shawn Phillips was charged with “corruption of minors” and “official oppression” in 1999 after he paid a 10-year-old pitcher $2 to purposefully clock a rival player and bench him for the rest of the game. The pitcher successfully collected his two Washingtons after a large bruise swelled across his rival’s torso.
Even when youth baseball doesn’t get violent, it’s filled with parental drama.
Last year, Suffolk County parents banded together to form the Thunder, a mutiny travel team against the coach of the Falcons, who they thought was bullying their kids.
“The head guy there was arrogant,” said a Thunder parent. “The attitude was, if you don’t like it my way, get the hell out of here. It wasn’t about the kids enjoying it.”
The parents chose from among themselves Troy Wachter to head up the Thunder.
“The Falcons coach was so mad, he offered anyone who wanted to stay free baseball,” said a Thunder source.
“They said thanks but no thanks, we’d rather pay.”
Flash forward a year, and a faction of parents unhappy with the playing time and coaching that Wachter provided their kids mutinied again, this time branching off to start the Clippers.
“The competition is important to the families, and there’s zero loyalty to a team,” said a Falcons source. “Parents are always looking for the next best deal.”
Some coaches try to keep perspective on the kids.
“It’s hard because you’re in a situation where these kids are 8, and you can’t blame the kids for their parents,” said another longtime coach. “About 99 percent of the kids are happy. They love playing the game and being with their friends. What you need to remind the grown-ups all the time is that it’s not about the parents. It’s a game for kids.”