Naperville, IL to Des Moines, IA

I would be lying if I said it bothered me to have some company on this day's drive. Leaving from Naperville, IL with our sights set on Des Moines, IA, my best bud Nick and I had but one stop prior to our end destination: The Field of Dreams in Dyersville, IA. While I was never one to take sports very seriously (feel free to replace "very" with "at all" or "even remotely"), Nick is a ball player through and through and was a darn fine pitcher in high school and college, and well, I just really love the movie. (As far as Kevin Costner goes, I think Malcolm Gladwell would agree that this is one of his outliers.) That being said, we drove the three hours with utmost excitement and were not disappointed.

Upon arriving at the field, we did what any two men/boys in their mid 20's would do:

1) Gawked at how impossibly beautiful the field is.



2) Did our best Ray Liotta.


3) Called our dads.


What's particularly excellent about the field is that it is meticulously maintained as if Costner & Co. were going to start filming the sequel tomorrow, and still, there are no entry fees or parking tolls and if you bring a ball, a bat and glove you can play all day and night. Just like the movie.

After spending nearly an hour pretending we were still 11 years old, Nick and I jumped back in the car for a four hour drive to Des Moines for more baseball. With timing again working in our favor, a mutual friend of ours who plays AAA baseball for the Portland Beavers (the San Diego Padres' AAA team) just so happened to be duking it out with the Iowa Cubs that night. The vast majority of the drive looked like this:


On a mission to make it the 7pm game time, we were barreling west on I-80 when we came across a Winnebago that had spun off the road and dumped itself upside down on the side of the highway. It was a startling reminder how quickly things can change and how careful we need to be. (This is one of those moments in which I record a fact more for my own recollection and less for the value of the story. It hit us pretty hard [bad pun] and we discussed it for quite some time thereafter.) Grateful, we drove onward.

One thing I can say I noticed about the trek through Iowa is that (most certainly related to the endless cornfields) there are these delicate little yellow butterflies that dance back and forth along the highway the whole time. And while they appear so matterless and airy, they explode like miniature raw eggs on your windshield as you drive, making a muted clicking sound, like the snapping of gum with your mouth shut. This also makes viewing difficult as it happens every few seconds.

We made it (safely) to the game (late) and rushed to our seats right next to the (home team's) on deck circle. While we watched the Iowa Cubs get their rear ends handed to them, Nick and I made friends with the folks seated around us. It started with the non-stop chirping of a 7 year-old pacing aimlessly around us (think Max from the tv series Parenthood). When I turned around and smiled at the old man sitting behind me, he showed a big smile under his camouflage hat and said, "That there's my grandson. He's a smart kid but he don't ever shut the hell up." I soon discovered this to be true; this little wind-up toy was a something of a wiz-kid. He knew every NASCAR driver, his number, and who his sponsor was in addition to knowing more about baseball than I do.

The older couple to our left were the most devoted AAA fans I've ever met. Their son didn't play for either of the teams we were watching, the husband wasn't a former ballplayer, but still, they drove seven hours from Chicago just to see these guys play. Their exact reason: "This is where the Cubs are born." They're just big fans. They spit out facts, oozed over certain plays players had made in certain games, and had endless comments on each player. That saucy lady next to us (see below) had a particularly interesting fascination with one of the players, and when we asked if she thought they'd call him up (to the majors), her response was, "Oh I'd call him up any night of the week." Nice.


It was a great night. We made some new friends, enjoyed a few more hot dogs, saw Jake the Dog (Iowa's canine bat boy [who actually isn't named Jake, as he is a replacement for the original Jake who is currently in the midst of a long dirt nap] who in addition to picking up bats between batters also brought the umpires towels and water bottles between innings), and our good ol' pal Baxter went 2 for 5.


Our night ended in an Embassy Suites Hotel with Baxter, Nick, and me devouring a few (of) Domino's (new) pizzas and drinking a few (cheap) beers while we talked to Baxter about life on the road as ballplayer. Shortly before we called it a night, he confessed that while his existence is living in hotels, eating in hotels, playing ball a few hours a day, and traveling on a bus, he's lucky to have the privilege. Still, that luck doesn't make the struggle any easier.