Little Leaguers Thrill to Big-Time Atmosphere

It may be the biggest moment of their Little League careers, but to the 14 boys from Cypress it’s still the small things that count the most.

Like the spacious, carpeted dormitories that house all eight teams at the Little League World Series here.

Like the thick-crust pizza that’s served for lunch and the ice cream socials that are held at night.

Like flying into the Little League Capital of the World in a noisy prop plane and getting to walk straight across the tarmac to the airport’s terminal.

Like posing for television head shots and seeing their names on glossy stat lists and rosters.

“It’s just too cool,” gushed outfielder Trevor Rice, the team’s only 11-year-old. “Everything’s so huge out here . . . like we’re really pros or something.”

In the world of Little League, it doesn’t get any better than this. And after clinching a victory over Woodinville West of Washington state last week, the Cypress Federals became Western Regional Champions, earning a whirlwind trip to the World Series and a chance to see firsthand what it means to be a star.

They play their first game tonight against Toms River, N.J., a gangly bunch that appeared even more menacing during opening ceremonies Sunday afternoon, when they marched across the field in crisp black uniforms.

“No way--they got black?” Zach Wingo, 12, said of the team’s color assignment, a designation that is given randomly each year by Little League officials. “What’s up with that?”

“We look like a bunch of sunflowers,” Matthew Swims, 12, said of their own yellow and white uniforms.

But Linda Wingo, who had already ordered matching yellow shirts for all of the parents, was quick to point out the not-so-obvious: The team from Mexico that won the World Series last year--beating an Orange County team from Mission Viejo in a heart-breaking last inning--also wore yellow, she said.

“Remember?” Linda Wingo asked, tugging on her son’s cap. “It was victory for them. Yellow is good.”

The boys had little time to debate the color issue, though. Disappointed with their energy level during Saturday’s practice, Manager Greg Novy put the team through a grueling three-hour session Sunday, sending them to the batting cages by 9 a.m. and making them run sprints in the afternoon.

Novy said he was particularly concerned with their hitting, and by midmorning had requested a ball machine to give his own pitching arm a break from the nonstop drills.

“We gotta hit the ball, hit the ball, hit the ball,” he told the sleepy-eyed boys. “We’re gonna do this until you can do it with your eyes closed.”

At least some of the players looked like they were doing just that, and several admitted they were not fully adjusted to the time change and had “maybe stayed up too late.”

“I’m not mentally focused,” said Zach Wesley, a team pitcher. “It’s just all of the excitement and then probably all of that hide-and-seek and stuff in the dorms, too.”

Parents of the boys trickled into town throughout the weekend, some having driven five hours in rental cars from Philadelphia, because the only flights they could have caught to Williamsport were booked.

On Sunday, the parents had to sneak short visits with their sons between practices and Little League events, since the teams’ living quarters are off-limits to anyone other than coaches.

Occasionally, as they strolled back to their dorms, their mothers would take advantage of the brief encounters to shove bags of clean clothes and underwear at them.

“I know he has no clean underwear or socks or anything,” said Janine Pepperdine, whose son, Bryan, is a catcher. “It’s been such a crazy few days. . . . They won [Thursday night] and then boom! They’re gone in like eight hours and we can’t even see them. It’s so bizarre.”

Matthew Swims--who secured the team’s win against Washington with a final-inning home run that capped what his coaches are calling a “dream game”--was less interested in the plastic bag of clothes than he was with making another request of his mother, Diane.

“I need some Coke and snacks and stuff, Mom,” he said. “I need it bad.”

His order was suddenly echoed by half a dozen teammates, none of whom seemed the least bit worried about their underclothes.

“We’re not nervous, I don’t think we’ve ever been really nervous,” said third baseman Nathan Lara. “But now that we’re here, well, you know we just want to be the champions. That’s it.”