GREENWICH - A group of Greenwich teenagers, who caused a stir earlier this summer when they built a Wiffle ball field in a residential neighborhood, were stunned to discover their story on the front page of the New York Times Thursday.
It all started when the teens came upon an empty, weed-overgrown plot of land on Riverside Lane and transformed it into a Wiffle ball stadium. But town officials said it has to come down because the lot is not zoned as a playground.
A private meeting was held Thursday between the town selectmen and Wiffle ball players. They agreed to try and search for a new space for the field that doesn't interfere with residents.
“They should look at us and say, ‘Wow, these kids are doing something great. They’re staying off the street [and] being normal kids,’” says Brett Atkinson.
Greenwich residents say they are shocked that the small-town Wiffle ball field story ended up on the front page of the Times, and some believe this kind of publicity is inappropriate.
But the Greenwich Wiffle ball players hope the national attention would help them in their fight for their small Field of Dreams.
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A group of teen-aged boys in Greenwich, Conn., a chic-chic town outside of New York City, have attracted the wrath of an entire neighborhood of educated, upwardly mobile residents.
At least one has contacted an attorney, dropping the gauntlet, if you will, on a bunch of boys who apparently are causing trouble now that school no longer is in session.
Their supposed crime?
If you did not see the story in The New York Times, you did not see the accompanying photo, which gives their crime away. But you could only imagine, couldn't you, the havoc they're playing with a quiet neighborhood of work-stressed New Yorkers.
Racing hot rods up and down the streets, perhaps? Or, congregating at a children's playground, playing loud music, drinking and perhaps smoking some of the funny stuff? Perhaps, they've done much worse, terrorizing neighbors, destroying mailboxes, or smashing windows?
Nope. Nope. And nope.
These boys have drawn fire for playing Whiffle ball on some public land otherwise ignored by the local gentry.
Apparently, the boys played with the plastic bat and the holey, plastic ball one day on the lot and decided to turn it into a field of dreams, of sorts. They cleared some bushes, erected a small wall and painted it green to mimic Fenway Park's ''Green Monster,'' and put up a flagpole in left field, including an American flag.
Besides being a hugely fun game that I used to play for hours with friends in yards, driveways and parks all over the Detroit suburb in which I grew up, the game apparently has played on the nerves of Greenwich.
No permits to build a fence. No permission to touch vegetation. They're ruining a drainage area for their homes. They're ruining the peace and quiet for neighboring homes, whose occupants want to sit on the back porch after a long day in the Big Apple.
Now I bring you to Saginaw Township, a house in a quiet neighborhood. The boys and girl in this house have signed up for the summertime reading program at the local library. They ride their bikes. Play catch in the yard. They participate in Little League, a softball league, hockey at the local ice rink, soccer at the complex and school-sponsored sports.
And when they ask their dad -- that's me -- for something to do because they're a bit bored, I tell them to call a group of friends for a soccer/basketball/baseball/football game at the school yard. Get some guys together, make up the rules, and play.
I used to do it, I tell them until their eyes begin to roll.
Hey, when I watch Little League players, who are in their fifth and sixth years of organized ball and cannot catch a fly ball or know when to tag up at third, I wonder ''what's wrong with these kids?''
I've even told my son, ''you're generation stinks'' at baseball. He gives me the ''Yeah, sure, dad'' look.
The problem is not the lack of organized baseball, it's not equipment (they've got the best money can buy), and it's not from a lack of seeing the game played on television (there are games on every day and night).
They just don't play pick-up ball.
In poor neighborhoods, those with blight and indifference, those whose children are not given the best equipment, an organized league, or even a suitable field in which to play, community organizers constantly are trying to come up with ways to ''keep these kids off the streets.''
However, in Greenwich, Conn., they're looking for ways to squash pick-up games of Whiffle ball in a vacant lot -- the bunch of hoodlums.
Perhaps they should be studying for the SATs so they can get into an Ivy League school, lock down hugely lucrative salaries so they purchase a home in Greenwich, Conn., and harass these folks' grandkids.
I can only hope.
Greg Mancina is a sports writer for The Saginaw News.
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