Is this Heaven?

‘Field of Dreams’ was on AMC last night and I was ballin' again (like every time I see it) when John Kinsella turns to walk back into the corn and Ray Kinsella (Kevin Costner) stops him and says, "hey- uh Dad? Ya wanna have a catch?"

So my wife looks at me cross-eyed and says "it must be a guy thing!"
Obviously, Sheez woman- hello!!! God/the universe/a mysterious voice in his cornfield- whoever uses Ray's hero, 60’s protest writer Terence Mann (played by James Earl Jones) and his dad's hero, Shoeless Joe Jackson to help him learn to forgive himself for being a dumb kid and to forgive his dad for not being perfect. Ray’s 36 years old and still beating himself up for hurting his dad by calling Joe Jackson a “cheater” since his Chicago White Sox were accused of throwing the 1919 World Series.

‘Field of Dreams’ was based on the book ‘Shoeless Joe’ by Canadian author WP Kinsella, who got his Masters at the University of Iowa through the famous Iowa Writer’s Workshop.

Kinsella’s book and Kostner’s movie are about male friendships, it's about baseball, it's about redemption, it's about realizing that what you thought were your dreams when you were young aren't necessarily what you really wanted or even what you're called to do. Doctor “Moonlight” Graham, from Chisholm, Minnesota discovered that he made a infinitely more of a difference as a small town doctor than he ever could’ve as a major leaguer. Terence Mann (J.D. Salinger in the book) discovers sort of the opposite- that he can’t escape being a writer or a leader no matter how sick he is of people seeking him out.

And dog gone it, it's about a heavenly place called Iowa. Isn’t any movie that has all that be enough to make a grown man cry. Why can't women get that?

More than anything else, ‘Field of Dreams’ is about how guys relate to each other through talking about sports. I was a late bloomer where this goes. I barely follow baseball even though I love it. Our esteemed publisher Brad Swanson could probably tell you far more about any team, player or ballpark this season than I ever could. I still really only watch maybe two or three pro and college football games a year, yep Thanksgiving and New Year’s. But never the less, if you want to avoid sex, politics, and religion and you’ve exhausted weather and farm implement or car parts, there’s always sports. Guys just can’t bring themselves to talk about shoes or hairstyles.

As long as I’m talking baseball, I may as well mention that my hometown D’Backs are starting in the National League Championship Series against the Colorado Rockies as I write this. I can only hope that they’re headed for the World Series as you read this. If they are, my wife and two of my three girls will be very frustrated with me when I get home from work for a week or so. Our youngest, Annamarie, loves to sit on the couch and watch baseball with me. She’s only 2, maybe she doesn’t know that it’s not a girly thing to do yet.

I’d like to take this opportunity to apologize for my Diamondbacks beating the humility, shame, and healthy Midwestern self-effacing inferiority complex back into the Chicago Cubs that all Americans love and admire them for. No seriously, for Arizona's sake, I'm not guilty, but for history, mythology, baseball and Chicago's sake I am sorry. I was secretly rooting for them. Everybody was, but- just like there has been for the last 99 years, there's always NEXT year. Come on, who told them they could stop filling the proverbial role of Charlie Brown anyway? Am I right?

Ah, Spring

Today is the very first day of Spring. Ah spring, when a young man’s fancy turns to thoughts of…

Thoughts of Baseball-

Opening day is just eleven days away, after all.

I was disappointed that my Diamondbacks traded our first baseman Erubiel Durazo to the Oakland A’s, but they gave us Pitcher Elmer Dessens. In spring training he hasn’t given up an earned run in 14 Cactus League games. We’ve needed a number-three starter, anyway.

I understand that our new starting first baseman, Lyle Overbay was hitting .343 in Triple A ball last year. I still like to see Mark Grace on first base, especially after he tried pitching that one game last year!

Of course, there’s still the 1-2 punch of the ‘Back’s big guns Randy Johnson and Curt Schilling. Scouts say that as old as he is, they’ve never seen Johnson as good as he’s been this spring.

I’ve heard that my fellow Shadow Mountain High School Alum, Curt Schilling has been dieting and trying things like aerobics and yoga or tai chi in order to loose some weight. Not that anyone with as many strike outs as him needs to improve that much, but I hear he’s looking at the long haul. He’s been watching Randy and wants to emulate his longevity.

I’ve been trying to get up earlier to spend time on the treadmill and have been cutting back on second-helpings too, since Lent started. Don’t look for too much results-wise until at least the All-Star break!

Of course, there’s also slugger Luis Gonzalez. He’s over his shoulder injury and I think that Barry Bonds had better be ready to defend his record.

Ah spring, when a young man’s fancy turns to thoughts of…

Thoughts of War-

This may be apocryphal, but if you hadn’t heard this one, we’ve won the war even though it hasn’t started yet. Remember last week’s column when I mentioned that Andrew Jackson fought the battle of New Orleans two weeks after the War of 1812 was already over? Well, apparently a while the British were on maneuvers in Kuwait when a group of Iraqi soldiers came rushing across the border waving a white flag and offering to surrender. The Englishmen had to tell them that they’d need to wait a few weeks until the war starts first!

But you know, we may not realize what we’re up against. The Russian newspaper Pravda published a report that Saddam is reverse-engineering an UFO that crashed outside of Baghdad back in 90’s. Pravda reports that aliens are guests at one of Huusein’s palaces. They’ve bio-engineered scorpions the size of cows to serve as guard dogs! I for one would hate to be a U.N. inspector near that palace!

No wonder the Russians didn’t want to vote with the U.S. for a Security Council resolution giving Iraq a deadline that would result in military action. Listen, if it’s in Pravda, it must be true, right. At least we know they’re not a propaganda machine of the USSR anymore, since there is no USSR.

Ah spring, when a young man’s fancy turns to thoughts of…

Thoughts of Summer, of course-

The nicest thing about cold weather, is that kids don’t calmer so much to get outside. Junior high school students are, of course the worst, but the warmer the weather and the more high school students seem to want to be anywhere but in class. It’s not even that I’m ready for school to be out, so much as it seems to get tougher and tougher to focus on getting the young ones to focus now that the windows are open again.

Coming home

Last week I flew back to Phoenix for my nephew Daniel’s Baptism. I didn’t get much sleep the night before I left and that was probably just as well. It meant I was too tired to be nervous about flying only days after the first anniversary of 9/11. Fewer people fly since 9/11, which meant that there was no one beside me to be disturbed if I happened to snore.

I scored a window seat, so I could survey the landscape as we made our decent over my native Arizona. They’ve just finished the late summer monsoon season, so there was fresh grass on the mountains that been scorched by the forest fires of this summer. There was even a little water in usually dry washes and river-beds that don’t usually have rivers in them. I noticed that instead of square sections, Arizona farms are disk shaped, due to the pivot sprinklers used to water crops in the desert.

When we came across Phoenix itself is when it hit me- that old saying about not being able to go home again. The reason you can’t go home again is because you can’t step in the same place in a river twice. The river is constantly moving and changing. Phoenix isn’t much like the western town I grew up in.

When I was a kid, we had a dirt road in my subdivision that they had to put oil on to keep the dust down. Across that road were horses and chickens. Today, Phoenix seems to be a vast expanse of concrete and winding freeways.

My folks picked me up and we left Sky Harbor International Airport and ventured out into the blinding sunlight and 104° heat. To my delight, my Mom bought tickets for my Dad and I to see the World Champion Diamondbacks play the Milwaukee Brewers that afternoon.

More evidence of Phoenix’s changes. As a kid we went to minor league games of the Phoenix Giants at a small stadium by the power plant. It smelled like soda and beer and sweat. Bank One Ballpark ("BOB") is more like the Mall of America, air conditioned and filled with shops, neon, and fast food outlets. Downtown used to be run-down, and nearly vacant. It used to be full of office workers, homeless people and police. Now it’s polished and "touristy," full of campy cowboy and southwestern statues and shops.

I loved it. Randy Johnson pitched 17 strikeouts for his 22nd complete game win this season. Junior Spivey hit a grand slam, Tony Womak stole two bases, and Steve Finely and Louis Gonzales caught pop-flies. Dad bought Daniel, Grace, and Ellen D’Backs clothes and we listened to the post-game show on the radio as we made our way up Central Avenue to the Squaw Peak Parkway.

The D’Backs have changed Phoenix too. As I graduated from high school, Phoenix was reaching critical mass. Growing up, it was home to Indians, Mexicans, and people who moved there after WWII or in the late 60’s. But, much like America, it grew almost uncontrollably and it’s different ethnic groups, religions, incomes and political interests were beginning to do one of two things; either cause conflict, or water-down and lose any sense of cohesive identity. Having a winning pro baseball team gives Phonecians something to rally around. Like the terrorist attacks have united the Nation, baseball has united Phoenix.

By the way, Kurt Schilling graduated from my High School, brag, brag. (As if I knew him) He was a Senior when I was a Freshman and Shadow Mountain High School had 2,300 students. My older brother Bart said he sat behind him in Algebra. Bart said Kurt struggled in math.

Monday morning I went for a hike in the Phoenix Mountain Preserve near my parent’s house. I got up at six, witch wasn’t hard since that’s eight, central time. I hiked up the east face of Shadow Mountain so that I could look out over the city and watch the sun rise over the Superstition Mountains. A coyote crossed my path under a palo verde tree. Of course, minutes later, so did a pair of joggers and their black lab. Further along the trail I smelled the sweet aroma of sagebrush and creosote and noticed a jackrabbit scurry across an arroyo under a mighty saguaro. Of course, minutes later, I also caught wind of a city bus and saw a police helicopter scurry across the sky.

As I flew back into Omaha, I noticed the colors go from tan to green as we came east over Colorado and Nebraska. A beautiful sight were the rolling hills. The square sections of farms reminded me of a great patch-work quilt, spread over an inviting bed or sofa. The sun was just setting as I drove into Charter Oak, St. Boniface’s steeple welcomes you home if you come in on L51 from the South. No sooner did I park in front of "Mallory Manor" (a.k.a. "the Butler House," or "the Weed House.) than Gracie came racing down the walk to give me a hug.

You can go home again. It’s just that where you call home may change. I still love Phoenix, but I really love coming home to Charter Oak, my home town.