Dave falls silent for a moment, thinking, bouncing a few sunflower seeds up and down in the palm of his hand.

‘It’s not about winning or losing,’ he says finally. ‘That comes later. It’s about how they’ll pass each other in the corridor this year, or even down the road in high school, and look at each other, and remember. In a way, they’re going to be on the team that won the district in 1989 for a long time.’ Dave glances across into the shadowy first-base dugout, where Fred Moore is now laughing about something with Mike Arnold. Owen King glances from one to the other, grinning. ‘It’s about knowing who your teammates are. The people you had to depend on, whether you wanted to or not.’

He watches the boys as they laugh and joke four days before their tournament is scheduled to begin, then raises his voice and tells Matt to throw four or five more and knock off. Not all coaches who win the coin toss – as Dave Mansfield does on August 5, for the sixth time in nine postseason games – elect to be the home team. Some of them (the coach from Brewer, for instance) believe the so-called home-team advantage is a complete fiction, especially in a tournament game, where neither team is actually playing on its home field. The argument for being the visitors in a jackpot game runs like this: At the start of such a game, the kids on both teams are nervous. The way to take advantage of those nerves, the reasoning goes, is to bat first and let the defending team commit enough walks, balks, and errors to put you in the driver’s seat.

If you bat first and score four runs, these theorists conclude, you own the game before it’s barely begun. QED. It’s a theory Dave Mansfield has never subscribed to. ‘I want my lasties,’ he says, and for him that’s the end of it.

Except today is a little different. It is not only a tournament game, it is a championship tournament game – a televised championship game, in fact. And as Roger Fisher winds and fires his first pitch past everything for ball one, Dave Mansfield’s face is that of a man who is fervently hoping he hasn’t made a mistake.

Roger knows that he is a spot starter – that Mike Pelkey would be out here in his place if Pelkey weren’t currently shaking hands with Goofy down in Disney World – but he manages his first-inning jitters as well as one could expect, maybe a little better. He backs off the mound following each return from the catcher, Joe Wilcox, studies the batter, fiddles with his shirtsleeves, and takes all the time he needs. Most important of all, he understands how necessary it is to keep the ball in the lowest quarter of the strike zone. The York lineup is packed with power from top to bottom. If Roger makes a mistake and gets one up in the batter’s eyes – especially a batter like Tarbox, who hits as powerfully as he throws – it’s going to get lost in a hurry.

He loses the first York batter nevertheless. Bouchard trots down to first, accompanied by the hysterical cheers of the York rooting section. The next batter is Philbrick, the shortstop. He bangs the first pitch back to Fisher. In one of those plays that sometimes decide ball games, Roger elects to go to second and try to force the lead runner. In most Little League games, this turns out to be a bad idea. Either the pitcher throws wild into center field, allowing the lead runner to get to third, or he discovers that his short-stop has not moved over to cover second and the bag is undefended. Today, however, it works. St. Pierre has drilled these boys well on their defensive positions. Matt Kinney, today’s shortstop, is right where he’s supposed to be. So is Roger’s throw. Philbrick reaches first on a fielder’s choice, but Bouchard is out. This time, it is the Bangor West fans who roar out their approval.

The play settles most of Bangor West’s jitters and gives Roger Fisher some badly needed confidence. Phil Tarbox, York’s most consistent hitter as well as their ace pitcher, strikes out on a pitch low and out of the strike zone. ‘Get him next time, Phil!’ a York player calls from the bench. ‘You’re just not used to pitching this slow!’

But speed is not the problem the York batters are having with Roger; it’s location. Ron St. Pierre has preached the gospel of the low pitch all season long, and Roger Fisher – Fish, the boys call him – has been a quiet but extremely attentive student during Saint’s ball-yard seminars. Dave’s decisions to pitch Roger and bat last look pretty good as Bangor comes in to bat in the bottom of the first. I see several of the boys touch Mo, the little plastic sandal, as they enter the dugout. Confidence – of the team, of the fans, of the coaches – is a quality that can be measured in different ways, but whatever yardstick you choose, York comes out on the long side. The hometown cheering section has hung a sign on the lower posts of the scoreboard. YORK IS BRISTOL BOUND, this exuberant Fan-O-Gram reads. And there is the matter of those District 4 pins, all made up and ready for trading. But the clearest indicator of the deep confidence York’s coach has in his players is revealed in his starting pitcher. All the other clubs, including Bangor West, pitched their number one starter in their first game, bearing an old playoff axiom in mind: if you don’t get a date, you can’t dance at the prom. If you can’t win your prelim, you don’t have to worry about the final. Only the coach from York ran counter to this wisdom, and pitched his number two starter, Ryan Fernald, in the first game, against Yarmouth. He got away with it – by a whisker – as his team outlasted Yarmouth, 9-8. That was a close shave, but today should be the payoff. He has saved Phil Tarbox for the final, and while Tarbox may not be technically as good as Stanley Sturgis, he’s got something going for him that Sturgis did not. Phil Tarbox is scary.

Nolan Ryan, probably the greatest fastball pitcher ever to play the game of baseball, likes to tell a story about a Babe Ruth League tournament game he pitched in. He hit the opposing team’s leadoff batter in the arm, breaking it. He hit the second batter in the head, splitting the boy’s helmet in two and knocking him out for a few moments. While this second boy was being attended to, the number three batter, ashen-faced and trembling, went up to his coach and begged the man not to make him hit. ‘And I didn’t blame him,’ Ryan adds. Tarbox is no Nolan Ryan, but he throws hard and he is aware that intimidation is the pitcher’s secret weapon. Sturgis also threw hard, but he kept the ball low and outside. Sturgis was polite.

Tarbox likes to work high and tight. Bangor West has got to where they are today by swinging the bat. If Tarbox can intimidate them, he will take the bats out of their hands, and if he does that Bangor is finished.

Nick Trzaskos doesn’t come anywhere near a leadoff home run today. Tarbox strikes him out with an intimate fastball that has Nick ducking out of the box. Nick looks around unbelievingly at the home-plate umpire and opens his mouth to protest. ‘Don’t say a word, Nick!’ Dave blares from the dugout. ‘Just hustle back in there!’ Nick does, but his face has resumed its former narrow look. Once inside the dugout, he slings his batting helmet disgustedly under the bench. Tarbox will try to work everyone but Ryan Larrobino high and tight today. Word on Larrobino has got around, and not even Phil Tarbox, confident as he appears to be, will challenge him. He works Ryan low and outside, finally walking him. He also walks Matt Kinney, who follows Ryan, but now he is high and tight again. Matt has superb reflexes, and he needs them to avoid being hit, and hit hard. By the time he is awarded first base, Larrobino is already at second, courtesy of a wild pitch that came within inches of Mart’s face. Then Tarbox settles down a little, striking out Kevin Rochefort and Roger Fisher to end the first inning. Roger Fisher continues to work slowly and methodically, fiddling with his sleeves between pitches, glancing around at his infield, occasionally even checking the sky, possibly for UFOs. With two on and one out, Estes, who reached on a walk, breaks for third on a pitch that bounces out of Joe Wilcox’s glove and lands at his feet. Joe recovers quickly and guns the ball down to Kevin Rochefort at third. The ball is waiting for Estes when he arrives, and he trots back to the dugout. Two out; Fernald has gone to second on the play.