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Sports
commentary by Jeff Mayfield
Field
of Dreams still exudes the magic
[SEPT.
28, 2000]
It
was the kind of a summer day that you always dream about. Not too
hot and not too humid…in fact, it was a perfect day. And who could
have guessed that we would get a perfect day, much less several in a
row, during the dog days of August. But that’s exactly the kind of
weather that greeted us that fateful day in beautiful downtown
Dyersville, Iowa. If you’ve never heard of the place, I’m not
totally surprised. Unless you are either a die-hard movie fan or a
die-hard baseball fan, there probably is no really good reason to
know of the town. I mean, after all, it is in Iowa. But that did not
deter me from seeking it out when I had the chance just a few short
weeks ago. As the sun moves into an autumnal equinox whether I want
to or not, I’m going to have to put the wraps on my summer
vacation fantasies (especially as they relate to baseball). This
week the LDN shares the magic that still exists close by and…
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...hopes
that that same magic will propel the Cardinals and the White Sox to
their just reward: a date in the 2000 World Series!
As
I got out of the car on that spectacular August day, I was struck by
the brilliance of the panoramic view. The grass wasn't just green;
it was an emerald green. The base paths weren’t just dirt, but
they had that red Georgia hue exuding all over the place. The
bleachers were exactly the way they looked in the "Field of
Dreams." And the corn was as high or higher than it was in the
movie.
Seconds
later I was out on the field. Others had come from all over the
country and all over the world. Some had taken their places at the
infield positions. Some were on or near the pitcher’s mound. Some
were at the plate or in the on-deck circles. The only vacant spot
for me was in the outfield. Before the rest of my party had even
gotten out of the car, I was already fielding shots to the outfield.
It
was a fantastic feeling. I wondered if Shoeless Joe Jackson felt the
way I was feeling just fielding balls in the outfield. Time stood
still. I totally lost track of where I was, who I was with or what
we were supposed to be doing. Almost as if I were swept away by a
higher power, I was immediately bonding with these people that I had
never even met before. So much so, that even though it was not my
turn to bat, they insisted that I grab a bat and take a few swings.
I
picked out a glorious piece of lumber and ambled towards the plate.
Before I got to the batter’s box, I stopped, knelt down and
grabbed some dirt. I rubbed it into my hands and then spit on the
plate to let the pitcher and the fielders know that I meant
business. I did not jack any shots into the corn that day, but I did
make contact with a few balls and at least avoided total
embarrassment.
I
couldn’t bear to take very many swings, since so many people had
been waiting for their turn much longer than I had. So, I handed the
bat to the next person in line and jogged back out to the outfield.
Most of the people smiled and seemed to appreciate my attitude of
giving them all a chance to take their cuts. The sun was shining
brightly and the gentle breeze made it one of the most picturesque
days that I have ever seen.
But
that’s not the whole story. In fact, you need to hear the rest of
the story to understand the whole experience. Because you see…the magic
is STILL there! It’s in the air. It’s in the grass. It’s in
the dirt. And of course…it’s in the corn! It dawned on me as I
looked around and saw all of the people… They built it…and
people came!
I
did not think that I would be able to touch or feel the magic if I
visited the field. And the magic should not have drenched me,
because of my skepticism…but it did…and I will never be the same
because of it!
Since
I was a little kid I knew that baseball was a special game. I knew
that baseball was a marker for most people when it comes to living
their lives. I knew that as we’ve advanced through the decades,
that in a very real sense the game of baseball in many ways has
defined our culture. But I did not realize how much power the magic
has in our lives.
[to top of second
column in this section]
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When
we are little we believe in Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny and the
Tooth Fairy. When we get a little older some enlightened person like
an older brother, sister or cousin shatters our faith by telling us
how much cooler it is not to believe. And that rite of passage will
somehow mean that we are growing up or are more grown up.
We
never bother to check them out. We believe them because our culture
has taught us it’s more important to be cool and listen to that
kind of advice than it is to battle for the things that we believe
in.
It’s
funny to me that they could never get to us when it comes to
baseball! Even now, people like in-laws, wives and other concerned
individuals are telling us all the time that we shouldn’t waste so
much time on sports, specifically baseball. That it’s a waste of
time and doesn’t deserve the time and energy that it requires. But
they’ve lost the magic.
I
haven’t. I’m STILL spellbound! And I’m sorry…but it’s not
immaturity. It’s not a lack of desire to grow up and be
responsible and mature! It’s not a ploy to avoid communication and
everyday living. I just like the way the magic makes me feel. That
whether I am on this field or a field in Lincoln, Chicago or St.
Louis that baseball is no respecter of age. It is not a respecter of
talent. It doesn’t care about your race, color or creed, and it
surely is not partial to whether you hang with the haves or the
have-nots. But no matter who you are or what you do, if the magic is
in you, all those around you know it.
It
is so great to see an old man slapping five with a young woman. Or
an older woman hugging a little kid. A home run or a strikeout can
send an entire city or state into a state of ecstasy that I could
never even begin to express here. But if you STILL feel the magic,
you know exactly what I’m talking about. If you don’t…I feel
sorry for you…because it will be next to impossible to bring it
back.
I’m
glad I never lost it. So many people tried to shake it out of me.
And I’m sure that at some point in my career that I may have
wasted a minute or two on the game. I’m sure I made the wrong
choice once or twice when it came to doing my homework or listening
to the Cardinal game on the radio. I hope my late, great mother will
forgive me for feigning sick when the ’64 Redbirds made the World
Series and I stayed home to watch them on TV.
But
the magic made me do it. The magic told me to stay at home and help
your Birds win the title over those stinkin’ Yankees. And the
magic and me worked together and pulled it off!
The
magic is still burning as bright today as it did in 1964! It told me
and the Lincoln Daily News to pick the White Sox and the
Cardinals to win their divisions even though nobody else was picking
them. I hope it burns long enough to get another World Championship!
[Jeff
Mayfield]
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