Field of Dreams (1989) - full transcript

Iowa farmer Ray Kinsella hears a voice in his corn field tell him, "If you build it, he will come." He interprets this message as an instruction to build a baseball field on his farm, upon which appear the ghosts of Shoeless Joe Jackson and the other seven Chicago White Sox players banned from the game for throwing the 1919 World Series. When the voices continue, Ray seeks out a reclusive author to help him understand the meaning of the messages and the purpose for his field.

RAY: My father's name was

John Kinsella.

It's an Irish name.

He was born

in North Dakota in 1896

and never saw a big city until he

came back from France in 1918.

He settled in Chicago, where

he quickly learned to live and die

with the White Sox.

Died a little when they

lost the 1919 World Series,

died a lot the following summer, when eight members

of the team were accused of throwing that Series.

He played in the minors for a year

or two, but nothing came of it.

Moved to Brooklyn in '35,

married Mom in '38,

was already an old man

at the naval yards

when I was born in 1952.

My name's Ray Kinsella.

Mom died when I was three, and I

suppose Dad did the best he could.

Instead of Mother Goose, I was put

to bed to stories of Babe Ruth,

Lou Gehrig, and the great

Shoeless Joe Jackson.

Dad was a Yankees fan then,

so I rooted for Brooklyn.

But in '58, the Dodgers moved away, so we

had to find other reasons to fight about.

We did.

And when it came time to go to college,

I picked the farthest one

from home I could find.

This drove him up the wall,

which, I suppose, was the point.

Officially, my major was English,

but really, it was the '60s.

I marched, I smoked some grass,

I tried to like sitar music,

and I met Annie.

The only thing we had in common

was that she came from Iowa,

and I'd once heard of Iowa.

After graduation,

we moved to the Midwest

and stayed with her family

as long as we could,

almost a full afternoon.

Annie and I got married

in June of '74.

Dad died that fall.

A few years later,

Karin was born.

She smelled weird,

but we loved her anyway.

Then Annie got the crazy idea

she could talk me

into buying a farm.

So, I love my family,

I love baseball,

and I'm about to become

a farmer.

Until I heard the voice,

I'd never done a crazy thing

in my whole life.

MALE VOICE If you build it,

he will come.

If you build it, he will come.

Hey, Annie!

And what was that?

What was what?

That voice just now.

What was it?

We didn't hear anything.

Uh... uh!

MALE VOICE: If you build it,

he will come.

Okay, you must have heard that!

Sorry. Hey,

come on in to dinner.

Let's go, pumpkin.

Is there, like,

a sound truck on the highway?

Nope. Hey, Karin,

dinner's ready!

Kids with a radio?

Nope.

Hey, are you really

hearing voices?

Just one.

What did it say?

"lf you build it,

he will come."

If you build what,

who will come?

He didn't say.

I hate it when that happens.

Me, too.

MALE VOICE: If you build it,

he will come.

Build what? What is this?

Ray?

It's okay, honey. I...

I'm just talking

to the cornfield.

Anyway, I was walking down

along the street,

and I heard this voice saying,

"Good evening, Mr. Dowd."

Well, I turned around,

and here was this big,

six-foot rabbit leaning

up against the lamppost.

Why did you do that?

It was funny.

Trust me, Karin.

It's not funny.

The man is sick. Very sick.

Karin, honey, now that you're finished

get your book bag. Let's go!

Hon, I'll take her today.

I've got errands to do in town.

Far out.

Hey. What if the voice calls

while you're gone?

Take a message.

ANNIE: (CHUCKLlNG) Bye.

Bye.

In all those years,

did you ever...

It's just I've heard

that sometimes farmers

in the field...

They hear things.

You know, voices.

You hearing voices?

No. It's just I heard

some farmers do.

I of course, don't,

so I was wondering if I was

doing something wrong.

Did you... Did you ever hear

voices out there?

Who's hearing voices?

Ray is.

Out in the fields.

No, I'm not.

I'm...

(CRAZY PLAYING ON STEREO)

(RAY LAUGHING)

Noises. That darned tractor...

I'm just going to get

some 3-in-1 oil.

That ought to do it.

It was nice...

Nice talking to you.

MALE VOICE: If you build it,

he will come.

All right, that's it!

Huh? Who the...

Who are you, huh?

What do you want from me?

Son of a...

MALE VOICE: If you build it,

he will come.

If you build it...

If you build it,

he will come.

ANNIE: You don't suppose

this is like

an acid flashback, do you?

I never took acid.

Maybe you will someday.

It's like a flash-forward.

Annie, there's more.

Honey, why don't you eat

a little bit?

I... I think I know what

"lf you build it,

he will come" means.

Why do I not think

this is such a good thing?

I think it means

that if I build

a baseball field out there,

Shoeless Joe Jackson

will get to come back

and play ball again.

You're kidding?

Uh-uh.

ANNIE: Wow.

Yeah.

You're kidding.

Boy, I thought my family

was crazy, but this is

the craziest thing ever.

I know. It's totally nuts.

I mean, Shoeless Joe!

He's dead. Died in '51.

He's dead.

They suspended him, right?

Right.

He's still dead?

As far as I know.

RAY: Did you know

Babe Ruth copied his swing?

If I did, I've forgotten it.

He was supposed to be

so graceful and agile.

I'd actually like

to see him play again,

to let him play,

to right an old wrong.

Wait. Wait a minute, Bosco.

Are you actually thinking

of doing this?

No.

I mean, I can't think of

one good reason

why I should, but...

I'm 36. I have a wife,

a child, and a mortgage,

and I'm scared to death

I'm turning into my father.

What's your father got

to do with all of this?

I never forgave him

for getting old.

By the time he was as old

as I am now, he was ancient.

I mean, he must have

had dreams, but he never did

anything about them.

For all I know, he may have

even heard voices, too,

but he sure didn't listen

to them.

The man never did

one spontaneous thing

in all the years I knew him.

Annie, I'm afraid

of that happening to me,

and something tells me

this may be my last chance

to do something about it.

I want to build that field.

Do you think I'm crazy?

Yes.

But I also think

if you really feel

you should do this,

then you should do it.

What the hell is he doing?

He's plowing under his corn.

Why?

Ty Cobb called him

the greatest left fielder

of all time.

He said his glove

was the place

where triples go to die.

KARlN: Could he hit?

RAY: Could he hit?

Lifetime average, 356,

third highest in history.

KARlN: Why'd they call him

Shoeless Joe?

RAY: When he was still

in the minors,

he bought a new pair of spikes

and hurt his feet.

In the sixth inning,

he took them off

and played in his socks.

The players kidded him,

called him "Shoeless Joe,"

and the name stuck.

MAN: He's going

to lose his farm.

WOMAN: Damned fool.

RAY: Then in 1919, his team,

the Chicago White Sox,

they threw the World Series.

KARlN: What's "threw"?

RAY: It means

they lost on purpose.

Gamblers paid them to.

Except Shoeless Joe.

He did take their money,

but nobody ever proved

he did one thing

to lose those games.

I mean if he's supposed to be throwing,

how do you explain he hit 375

for the Series and didn't commit

one error?

I can't.

Twelve hits including

the Series' only home run,

and they said

he's trying to lose?

It's ridiculous.

RAY: The commissioner

of baseball suspended eight

of the players,

including the great

Shoeless Joe Jackson,

for life.

KARlN: What's "suspend"?

RAY: It means they never

let him play the game again.

My father said

he saw him years later

playing under a made-up name

in some 10th-rate league

in Carolina.

He'd put on 50 pounds,

and his spring was gone

from his step

but he could still hit.

Dad used to say

nobody could hit

like Shoeless Joe.

I think that's the first time

I've ever seen you smile

when you mentioned your father.

Well...

I have just created something

totally illogical.

That's what I like about it.

Am I completely nuts?

Not completely.

It's a good baseball field, Ray.

It's kind of pretty, isn't it?

Mmm-hmm.

Any sign?

Something's going to happen

out there.

I can feel it.

ANNCUNCER ON TV: So,

for the veteran southpaw,

his summer of woes continues.

That's four straight hits

in the inning.

Daddy, what's a "southpaw"?

It means

a left-handed pitcher, honey.

So how bad is it?

Well, considering how much

less acreage we have for corn,

I say we'll probably

almost break even.

We used up all our savings

on that field, Ray.

Daddy?

Just a minute, Karin.

So what are you saying?

We can't keep the field?

Makes it real hard

to keep the farm.

Daddy.

In a minute, Karin!

There's a man out there

on your lawn.

I'll put on some coffee.

Why don't you go on outside?

Sorry.

I'll get some out there.

Hi.

Ray Kinsella.

Joe Jackson.

I bet it's good

to be playing again, huh?

Getting thrown out of baseball

was like having

part of me amputated.

I've heard that old men wake up

and scratch itchy legs

that have been dust

for over 50 years.

That was me.

I'd wake up at night

with the smell of the ballpark

in my nose,

with the cool of the grass

on my feet,

the thrill of the grass.

Can you pitch?

Yeah,

not bad.

Don't we need a catcher?

Not if you get it

near the plate we don't.

Right.

I'm pitching

to Shoeless Joe Jackson.

Nice hit.

See if you can hit my curve.

You can hit the curve ball.

Put one right here, huh?

Right.

Right, you're a low ball hitter.

Man, I did love this game.

I'd have played for food money.

It was the game,

the sounds, the smells.

Did you ever hold a ball

or a glove to your face?

Yeah.

I used to love traveling

on the trains

from town to town.

The hotels,

brass spittoons in the lobbies,

brass beds in the rooms.

It was the crowd,

rising to their feet

when the ball was hit deep.

Shoot,

I'd have played for nothing.

It's my family.

What's with the lights?

Oh, all the stadiums

have them now.

Even Wrigley Field.

It's harder to see the ball.

The owners found that more

people can attend night games.

Owners.

Mr. Jackson, this is my wife

Annie and my daughter Karin.

Ma'am. Hi.

Are you a ghost?

Karin.

She's kidding.

That's okay.

What do you think?

You look real to me.

Then I guess I'm real.

Would you like to come inside?

Thanks. I don't think I can.

Can I come back again?

Yeah. I built this for you.

There are others, you know.

There were eight of us. It would

really mean a lot to them.

Yeah, anytime.

They're all welcome here.

Hey, is this heaven?

No.

It's Iowa.

Where's he going?

I don't know.

We're keeping this field.

You bet your ass we are.

You're going to lose

your farm, pal.

How can you lose

something so big?

He misplaced the house once.

Yeah, but it turned up.

Ray, come on. Ray? Ray?

This stupid baseball field's going to

bankrupt you, and everybody knows it.

All I'm saying is that If you wait till you default

on your loan, you're going to lose everything.

If you sell right now, my partners will give

you a fair price. You can walk away with it.

Thanks, Mark.

Thanks, Mark, but no.

No.

Alright, let me ask you this - what

are you holding onto this place for?

I mean you never liked Iowa.

That's not true. Come on..

You never liked farming. It is true. You

don't know the first thing about farming.

I know a lot about farming. Oh you do!

I know a lot more than you think I know.

Well, then how could you plow

under your major crop?

What's a crop? (Annie laughing)

ANNIE: Come on. That is funny.

What's a crop?

Daddy, the baseball game is on.

Excuse us.

Annie, I don't believe this guy.

I'm trying to bail him out, and

he leaves to watch television.

He used to be normal.

Yeah.

(LAUGHING)

Buck!

ALL: Whoa!

MAN: All right.

Hey! Hey! Hey!

All right! Home base!

Watch Joe's feet.

A good left fielder

knows what pitch is coming.

He can tell from the bat's angle

which way the ball's heading.

(ALL CHEERING)

Show off!

Stick it in your ear, Gandhi.

If you'd have run like that against

Detroit, I'd have won 20 games!

For Pete's sakes, Cicotte,

that was 68 years ago.

Give it up!

Hey! You guys want

to play ball or what?

Muscle-bound jerk.

At least I got muscles.

At most you got muscles.

Come on, asshole! Pitch!

Weaver, be nice.

Sorry, kid!

It's okay. I don't mind.

ALL: All right, Karin.

Hey, hey, hey!

Ray? Honey, Mom

and everybody's leaving now.

Okay.

Oh, well, it was... You know.

Thanks for coming.

Ray, think about what I said.

I'm just trying to help.

I know.

Thought you two were watching

some game.

It's not really a game.

It's more like practice.

There's only eight of them.

They can't play a real game.

Eight of what?

Them.

Who them?

Them them.

RAY: You don't see them?

Karin, honey,

what are you watching?

The baseball men.

MARK: Baseball men?

Do you see

the baseball men right now?

Of course I do.

What, you really don't see them?

It's not very polite to try to

make other people feel stupid.

Mom, wait a minute.

Mom! Wait a minute.

Dee. Dee, wait.

You don't see these people?

It's not funny, Annie.

They couldn't see it.

This is really interesting.

Hey, Ray, look at this.

Sixty-eight years since I wore this

uniform, still fits me like a glove.

You must keep

in pretty good shape.

Now let's see, I died in '70.

That means I haven't had

a cigarette in what? 18 years.

You don't smoke, do you?

No.

Karin! Ray! Dinner!

"Ray, dinner."

"Dinner, Ray." (laughter)

All right, all right.

Come on.

Let's hit the showers.

Talk you later.

See you, guys.

I'm melting! I'm melting!

MAN: Come on, you knucklehead.

That is so cool.

MALE VOICE: Ease his pain.

What?

I'm sorry. What?

I didn't understand. What?

MALE VOICE: Ease his pain.

Ease his pain. What...

What the hell does that mean,

ease his pain?

What pain? All right.

Whose pain?

Thanks a lot.

Come on, honey, wash up. We got

the PTA meeting after dinner.

Talking about banning books

again, really subversive books,

like The Wizard of Oz,

Diary of Anne Frank.

What happened to you?

The voice is back.

You don't have to build

a football field, do you?

He said, "Ease his pain."

Ease whose pain?

I asked him. He wouldn't say.

Shoeless Joe's?

I don't think so.

One of the other players?

I don't think so.

This is a very nonspecific voice out

there, and he's starting to piss me off.

I was having a fun day today,

a good day.

Want a fry?

And I say,

smut and filth like this has

no place in our schools.

Fascist.

I'd like to ease her pain.

Mrs. Kessinik, Mrs. Kessinik.

That book you're waving about

is hardly smut.

It's considered by many critics to be

the classic novel about the 1960s.

It's pornography!

No, no. The Supreme Court says

it's not.

And it's author, Mr. Mann...

ls sick!

Terence Mann is

a Pulitzer Prize winner.

He's widely regarded as the

finest satirist of his time.

He's a pervert!

Probably a Communist, too!

What planet are

these people from?

Mr. Harris, the so-called

novels of Terence Mann

endorse promiscuity,

godlessness,

the mongrelization of the races,

and disrespect to high-ranking

officers of the United States Army.

And that's why right-thinking school

boards all across the country

having been banning

this man's S-H-l-T

since 1969

Terence Mann?

You know why he stopped writing books.

Because he masturbates.

Excuse me, madam.

Excuse me.

Terence Mann was a warm,

gentle voice of reason

during a time of great madness.

He coined the phrase,

"Make love, not war."

While other people were

chanting, "Burn, baby, burn,"

he was talking about love

and peace and understanding.

I cherished every one or his books, and

I dearly wish he had written some more.

Maybe if you had experienced

even a little bit of the '60s,

you might feel

the same way, too.

I experienced the '60s.

No, you had two '50s and moved

right on into the '70s.

Annie, look at this.

Your husband plowed under his

corn and built a baseball field.

Now, there's

an intelligent response.

The weirdo.

Annie... Honey, it's all right.

I'll be cool.

At least he is not

a book burner, you Nazi cow.

At least I'm not married to the biggest

horse's ass in three counties.

All right, Beulah,

do you want to step outside?

Fine!

RAY: Annie.

All right, honey.

I've got a better idea.

Let's take a vote.

Who's for Eva Braun here?

Who wants to burn books?

Who wants to spit on

the Constitution of the United

States of America? Anybody?

All right. Now,

who's for the Bill of Rights?

Who thinks freedom

is a pretty darn good thing?

Come on! Come on!

Let's see those hands!

Who thinks

we have to stand up

to the kind of censorship

they had under Stalin?

All right. There you go.

America, I love you.

I'm proud of you.

Let's go.

We got to go.

This is great!

RAY: I figured it out.

I figured it out.

(WHOOPlING)

Was that great, or what?

I figured it out.

It's just like the '60s again!

I just figured it out.

"Step outside, you Nazi cow."

I know whose pain

I'm supposed to ease.

What?

I know whose pain

I'm supposed to ease.

I just halted the spread

of neo-fascism in America...

Terence Mann.

What about him? His pain.

That's whose pain.

How do you know that?

Well, I just know. I was right about building

the field, wasn't I? Yeah.

Well, what's his pain?

I don't know.

How are you supposed

to ease it?

I don't know.

Ray.

Well, Ann...

Look, he's my favorite writer,

too,

What has Terence Mann got to do with baseball?

Annie, it's incredible.

By the early '70s,

Mann decides people

have become either

too extremist

or too apathetic to listen to him.

So he stops writing books,

he starts writing poetry

about whales and stuff

and then he starts fooling

around with a home computer.

Know what he does now?

He writes software

for interactive

children's videos.

They teach kids

how to resolve

their conflicts peacefully.

God, what an amazing guy.

What's that got to do

with baseball?

In the April 1962 issue

of Jet Magazine,

there's a story called

"This ls Not A Kite."

It's not his best work,

but the story's hero

is named John Kinsella,

my father.

Wow.

What do you mean, "Wow"?

Big wow! What's it got to do

with baseball?

You drive.

Okay, the last interview

he ever gave was in 1973.

Guess what it's about.

Some kind of team sport.

Mann was a baseball fanatic.

Listen to this.

My earliest recurring dream

was to play at Ebbets Field

with Jackie Robinson

and the Brooklyn Dodgers.

Of course, it never happened.

The Dodgers left Brooklyn.

and they tore down Ebbets Field,

but even now I still dream that dream.

That's sad.

RAY: The man wrote the best

books of his generation.

He was a pioneer

in the civil rights

and the antiwar movement.

I mean, he made

the cover of Newsweek.

He knew everybody.

He did everything.

He helped shape his time.

The guy hung out

with the Beatles.

It wasn't enough.

What he missed was baseball.

Oh, my God!

What?

"As a small boy,

he had a bat named Rosebud."

Give me that.

Sorry.

The guy hasn't been

to a baseball game since 1958.

So, in order to ease his pain,

you're supposed to take him

to a ballgame.

Yes.

Ray, this is nuttier

than building

the baseball field.

No. No, it's not.

It's pretty weird, I'll grant you,

but building the field was

5, 10% weirder.

Sorry, pal, I'm going to have

to nip this one in the bud.

We're having moderate-to-heavy

financial difficulties here.

And you can't take off

for Boston while we're

going broke in Iowa. Honey, this is really...

This is really

new territory for us,I know,

but we're dealing

with primal forces of nature here

When the primal forces of nature tell you to do something,

the prudent thing is not to quibble over details.

Yeah, but why do you

have to go? Why can't

the voice send somebody else?

How about Shirley MacLaine?

Is she too busy?

What does this have

to do with you?

RAY: That's what I have

to find out.

Ray, we are behind

on the mortgage. That field

ate up all of our savings.

We could lose this farm.

I won't even stay in motels.

I'll sleep in the car.

I'll beg for food.

No. No! Now, this is too much!

Now, look. I understand

your need to prove to yourself

and to the world

you are not turning

into your father,

but you've done it.

You believed in the magic.

It happened.

isn't that enough?

It's more than that.

I know this is totally nuts,

but there's another reason

I'm supposed to do it.

I feel it as strongly

as I've felt anything.

There's a reason.

What? Just tell me what it is.

Something's going to happen

at the game. I don't know what..

There's something

at Fenway Park.

I got to be there

with Terence Mann

to find it out.

Is Fenway the one

with the big green wall

in left field?

Yeah.

I dreamt last night

you were at Fenway

with Terence Mann.

Was I sitting

on the first base side?

Yes.

About halfway up on the aisle? Yeah, you were keeping...

Yeah, eating a hot dog.

Eating a hot dog?

I had the same dream.

I'll help you pack.

RAY: Hi, I'm...

Hi, I'm Ray Kinsella.

Hi. No.

Hi.

Hi, I'm Ray Kinsella.

It's a great pleasure

to finally get to...

Hi, I'm Ray Kinsella.

I'm a big fan of yours.

Hi.

How do you do, Mr. Mann?

I have to take you to a base...

All right, stupid,

put your hands up

and get in the trunk.

Good Good.

He lives right around here.

Do you know him?

He's sort of a tall black man.

I'm a friend of his.

If he was much of a friend,

he could give you

the directions himself.

That's a good point.

Thank you.

I don't know where he lives.

Get away from me!

I ain't going

to tell you nothing.

Go away! You're a pest!

Two blocks down,

right-hand side.

First door

that don't have a chicken

in the window is his.

No chicken.

Who the hell are you?

Sir, my name's Ray Kinsella.

We got

a learning disability here?

Mr Mann, if I could just have

one minute, please.

Look, I can't tell you

the secret of life,

and I don't have

any answers for you.

I don't give interviews,

and I'm no longer

a public figure.

I just want to be left alone,

so piss off.

Wait! Wait!

Look, I've come 1, 500 miles

to see you

at the risk of losing my home

and alienating my wife.

All I'm asking is one minute.

Please.

One minute.

Okay, I understand

your desire for privacy,

and I wouldn't dream

of intruding if this weren't

extremely important.

Oh, God.

I don't do causes anymore.

This isn't a cause.

I don't need money

or an endorsement.

Refreshing.

You once wrote,

There comes a time

when all the cosmic tumblers

have clicked into place

and the universe

opens itself up

for a few seconds

to show you what's possible."

Oh, my God!

What?

You're from the '60s.

Well, yeah Actually...

Out!

Hey!

Back to the '60s.

No place for you

here in the future.

Get back while you still can!

You've changed, you know that?

Yes, I suppose I have.

How about this?

Peace, love, dope.

Now get the hell out of here!

You've really pissed me off.

Hold it. Right there.

I was hoping I wouldn't have

to do it this way.

What the hell is that?

It's a gun. What do you think iit is?

It's your finger.

It's not, it's a gun.

Yeah? Let me see it.

I'm not going to show you

my gun.

Look. I'm not going to hurt you.

I just need you to come with me for a little...

What are you doing?

I'll beat you with a crowbar

until you go away.

Whoa! Wait! You can't do that.

There are rules here? Oh, no.

There are no rules here.

You're a pacifist!

Shit.

Thank you Thank you.

So what? You kidnapping me?

What's the deal here?

I was...

I was hoping I could just

convince you to come with me.

So you are kidnapping me?

I have to take you

to a baseball game.

You what?

Tonight's game Red Sox, A's.

Why?

Something will happen there.

I don't know what,

but we'll find out

when it does.

My name's Ray Kinsella.

You used my father's name

for a character

in one of your stories.

John Kinsella.

You're seeing a whole team

of psychiatrists, aren't you?

I don't blame you

for thinking that,

but, no, I'm not.

I swear to God,

I'm the least crazy person

I've ever known.

Why are you kidnapping me

to a baseball game?

May I...

Oh, please.

Want a cup of coffee?

No.

Want some cookies?

No.

I read an interview you gave

a long time ago

about how you always dreamed

of playing at Ebbets Field

and how sad you felt

when they tore it down.

I never said that.

You didn't?

I don't even recall

thinking that.

This is so weird.

This whole...

This whole thing is so weird.

Then why go through with it?

It's a long story.

But it's a really good story.

I'll tell you on the way.

I'm not going to get rid

of you, am I? No..

Just come to this game with me, and I swear to God

I'll never bother you again, not even...

not even a Christmas card.

(ANNOUNCER SPEAKING ON PA)

So what do you do

with yourself these days?

I live, I work.

I learned how to cook.

I take walks and watch sunsets.

Are you staying involved?

I was the East Coast

distributor of involved.

I ate it and drank it

and breathed it.

Then they killed

Martin and Bobby,

they elected Tricky Dick twice,

and now people like you think

I must be miserable

because I'm not involved

anymore.

I've got news for you.

I spent all my misery years ago.

I have no more pain left

for any of you.

I gave at the office.

So what do you want?

I want them to stop

looking to me for answers,

begging me to speak again,

write again, be a leader.

I want them to start thinking

for themselves.

I want my privacy.

No, I meant what do you want?

Oh.

Dog and a beer.

Two.

10 bucks.

Okay, I understand.

You should be entitled to

as much privacy as you want,

but why stop writing?

I haven't published a word

in 17 years,

and still I have to endure

lunatics like you.

What do you think would happen

if I suddenly came out

with a new book?

They'd bleed me dry.

MALE VOICE: Go the distance

Go the distance

What's the matter?

You didn't see that?

See what?

I'm sorry. I guess

you didn't have to be here.

What?

Whenever you want to go,

we can go.

Fine. Let's go.

What is it

you're not telling me?

I've already taken up

too much of your time.

I wish I had your passion, Ray.

Misdirected though

it might be,

it is still a passion.

I used to feel that way

about things, but...

You got another message,

didn't you?

You'll think I'm crazy.

I already think you're crazy.

What did it say?

It said,

"The man's done enough.

Leave him alone."

"Moonlight" Graham.

You saw it.

Saw what?

You saw it.

New York Giants, 1922.

He played one game.

He never got to bat.

What did I see?

Chisholm, Minnesota.

We were the only ones

who saw it.

Did you hear the voice, too?

It's what told me to find you.

Did you hear it?

"Go the distance"?

Yes.

Do you know what it means?

Yes.

What?

It means we're going

to Minnesota to find

"Moonlight" Graham.

We're going... We?

I must be out of my mind.

What do we do when we find him?

How the hell am I supposed to know that?

That's right.

You're right. You're right.

This is so bitching.

I don't believe I'm doing this.

RAY: Hey, Annie, guess what?

I'm with Terence Mann.

ANNIE: Oh, my God.

You kidnapped him.

No, I didn't. He wanted to.

Sorry, but I'm going

to be a few days longer.

We're going to Minnesota.

ANNIE: I don't believe this.

What's in Minnesota?

An old ballplayer.

I'll explain when I get home.

How are things with you?

ANNIE: Fine

Great. Look, Ann,

I got to go, okay?

Give Karin a hug for me,

and I love you.

I love you, too.

Hey, someday explain all this

to me, okay?

Bye-bye

Bye.

Why didn't you tell him?

Annie, you got no choice

in the matter.

RAY: Half a dozen Grahams.

No Archibald No "Moonlight."

Follow me.

Hello.

Excuse me.

Maybe you can help us.

We're looking

for an ex-baseball player

named Archibald Graham.

Oh, you mean Doc Graham.

No. I think

his nickname was "Moonlight."

Well, that's Dr. Graham.

Dr. Graham?

His baseball career

never amounted to much.

He went back to school.

His father was a doctor.

Do you know

where we can find him?

It's nothing bad.

We're not from the I RS.

Doc Graham is dead.

He died in 1972.

And there were times

when children could not afford

eyeglasses or milk or clothing.

Yet, no child was ever denied

these essentials

because, in the background,

there was always Dr. Graham.

Without any fanfare

or publicity,

the glasses or the milk

or the ticket to the ballgame

found their way

into the child's pocket.

You wrote that.

The day he died.

Can I see that?

You're a good writer.

So are you.

(PHONE RINGING)

Something's missing.

Well, he sounds like

he was a wonderful man.

Half the towns

in North America have

a Doc Graham.

What makes this one so special

we travel across the country

to find him

16 years after he died?

There's got to be more.

What else?

He always wore an overcoat,

he had white hair,

and he always carried

an umbrella.

What was the umbrella for?

It got to be a habit,

something to hang on to.

He said he used it to beat

away his lady admirers.

Tell me about his wife.

Alicia.

She moved to South Carolina

after Doc passed.

She passed a couple years later.

She always wore blue.

The shopkeepers in town

would stock blue hats

because they knew

if Doc walked by,

he'd buy one.

When they cleaned out

his office,

they found boxes of blue hats

that he never got around

to give her.

I'll bet you didn't know that.

No, I didn't.

No screwing, no drinking,

no opium,

no midnight abortions,

no illegitimate children,

no shady finances.

You sound disappointed.

Shoeless Joe had a problem.

That's why he needed you.

This guy doesn't need us.

Terence.

Do you know you're missing?

Oh, God.

His father,

who lives in Baltimore,

notified police

after receiving no answer

to repeated telephone calls."

Shoot.

I better call him.

You want me to...

Thanks.

I'm taking a walk.

Be back in a while.

What do I tell him?

"This year's"?

Dr. Graham?

My name's Ray Kinsella.

I'm from Iowa.

Are you "Moonlight" Graham?

No one's called me

"Moonlight" Graham

in 50 years.

Well, I've come

a very long way to see you.

I couldn't sleep tonight.

Usually I sleep like a baby.

I told Alicia

I was taking a walk.

Do you mind if I join you?

I'd like to talk to you.

Let's walk over to my office.

What do you want

to talk to me about?

When you got to the majors,

you played only one inning

of one game.

What happened that inning?

GRAHAM: It was the last day

of the season,

bottom of the eighth,

we were way ahead.

In three weeks,

I hadn't seen any action.

Suddenly old John McGraw

points a bony finger

in my direction

and he says, "Right field"

I jumped up like I was sitting

on a spring,

grabbed my glove,

and ran out on the field.

RAY: Did you get to make

a play?

They never hit the ball

out of the infield.

The game ended.

The season was over.

I knew they'd send me back down.

I couldn't bear the thought

of another year in the minors.

So I decided to hang them up.

Go on Sit down.

Thank you.

So what was that like?

It was like coming

this close to your dreams,

then watch them

brush past you,

like a stranger in a crowd.

Then, you don't think about it.

We just don't recognize life's

most significant moments

while they're happening.

Back then I thought, "Well,

there'll be other days."

I didn't realize that

that was the only day.

And now,

I want to ask you a question.

What's so interesting

about half an inning

that you'd come from Iowa

to talk to me about it

50 years after it happened?

I didn't really know

till just now,

but I think it's to ask you

if you could do

anything you wanted,

if you could have a wish...

And you're the kind of a man

who could grant me that wish?

I don't know. I'm just asking.

Well, you know,

I never got to bat

in the major leagues.

I'd have liked to have had

that chance, just once,

to stare down

a big-league pitcher.

Then just as he goes

into his windup, wink.

Make him think

you know something he doesn't.

That's what I wish for.

The chance to squint

at a sky so blue it hurts

your eyes to look at it,

to feel the tingle

in your arms as you connect

with the ball,

run bases, stretching a double

into a triple and flop

face first into third,

wrap your arms around the bag.

That's my wish.

That's my wish.

Is there enough magic

out there in the moonlight

to make this dream come true?

What would you say

if I said yes?

I think

I'd actually believe you.

There's a place where

things like that happen.

If you want to go,

I can take you.

This is my most special place

in all the world.

Once a place touches you

like this, the wind never

blows so cold again.

You feel for it,

like it was your child.

I can't leave Chisholm.

I understand I do.

But I really think you're

supposed to come with us.

No.

But your wish?

It'll have to stay a wish.

I was born here, I lived here,

I'll die here, but no regrets.

Fifty years ago, for 5 minutes

you came this close.

It would kill some men

to get that close

to their dream

and not touch it.

God. They'd consider it

a tragedy.

If I'd only gotten to be

a doctor for five minutes,

now that would have been

a tragedy.

I better be getting home.

Alicia will think

I got a girlfriend.

RAY: And he smiled.

And then I figured, maybe

we're not supposed to take him

with us.

I don't know.

I don't know why in the hell

we were supposed to come here.

Maybe it's to find out

if one inning can change

the world.

Think it did?

Did for these people.

If he'd gotten a hit,

he might have stayed

in baseball.

I don't know.

Oh, your wife called.

She wants you

to call her tonight.

(TELEPHONE RINGING)

Ray?

I'm fine.

I'm just so glad it's you.

Listen, I talked to the bank,

and I asked them

if we could miss

a payment or two,

and they told me

that they had just sold

the note on the farm

to Mark and his partners.

Right.

So they own the paper now.

He says

if we don't sell to them,

they're going to foreclose.

Ray, we don't have the money.

Look, I've got to take

Mr. Mann back to Boston first.

Okay? So, it's...

MANN: No.

Wait a second.

I'm going to Iowa with you.

We're coming home.

MANN: I can't quit now.

I got to see this ballpark.

RAY: Not everyone can see it.

You might not.

Give it a try.

I need all the karma

I can get right now.

Thanks.

You're the first car by.

How far you going?

Iowa..

If it's okay,

I'll just ride along a while.

I play baseball.

Hop in.

All right.

I'm looking for a place to play.

I heard that

all through the Midwest,

they have towns with teams.

In some places,

they'll find you a day job

so you can play ball

nights and weekends.

It's your lucky day.

We're going someplace

kind of like that.

All right.

I'm Ray Kinsella.

This is Terence Mann.

Hi.

I'm Archie Graham.

It's funny the way

he described towns

finding you a job

so you could play on their team.

They haven't done that

for years.

Dad did that for a while,

but that was in the '20s.

What happened to your father?

He never made it

as a ballplayer. He wanted

his son to make it for him.

By 10, playing baseball got

to be like eating vegetables

or taking out garbage.

When I was 14,

I started to refuse.

Can you believe that?

American boy refusing to have

a catch with his father?

Why 14?

That's when

I read The Boat Rocker

by Terence Mann.

Oh, God.

I never played catch

with him again.

That's the crap

people always lay on me.

It's not my fault you wouldn't

play catch with him.

I know.

Anyway, when I was 17,

I packed my things,

said something awful,

and left.

After a while,

I wanted to come home,

but I didn't know how.

Made it back

for the funeral, though.

What was the awful thing

you said?

To your father?

Oh.

I said I could never respect

a man whose hero was

a criminal.

Who was his hero?

Shoeless Joe Jackson.

You knew he wasn't a criminal.

Then why did you say it?

I was 17.

The son of a bitch died

before I could take it back.

Before I could tell him,

you know.

He never met my wife.

He never saw his granddaughter.

This is your penance.

I know.

I can't bring my father back.

So the least you can do

is bring back his hero.

Well...

Now I know what

everybody's purpose here is,

except mine.

Hey.

KARIN: Daddy!

Karin, come here.

ANNIE: Hi.

Oh, we missed you.

Are you, okay?

Yeah. This is Terence Mann.

Terry.

Welcome.

Hi, Terry.

RAY: And this young fella

is...This is Archie Graham.

Archie.

RAY: He's come to practice

with the team.

He'll be able to do

a lot more than that.

What does that mean?

(MEN CHATTERING)

MAN: What do you say?

What do you say?

JOE: Hey, Ray. Welcome back.

Thanks, Joe.

Oh, my God.

What?

That's Shoeless Joe Jackson.

Of course it is.

You didn't believe me?

MANN: I thought I did, but...

Oh, my God.

JOE: Hi, Annie.

Hi, Joe.

Good to see you.

Terry, I'd like you

to meet Shoeless Joe Jackson.

Joe, Terry Mann.

It's a pleasure meeting you.

The pleasure's mine.

We got tired

of just having practices,

so we brought another team out

so we'd have some real games.

I don't mind.

Where'd they come from?

Where did we come from?

So many wanted to play here.

We had to beat them off

with a stick.

Hey, that's Smokey Joe Wood

and Mel Ott

and Gil Hodges.

Ty Cobb wanted to play.

Nobody could stand him

when we were alive.

We told him to stick it.

Hey, are you Graham?

ARCHIE: Yes, sir.

Why are you on the sidelines?

Came to play ball, didn't you?

Yes, sir.

All right. Well, go warm up.

Yes, sir.

Rookies.

Unbelievable.

It's more than that.

It's perfect.

MAN 1: Ho!

MAN 2: Safe!

(ALL CHEERING)

Go, Graham! Go, kid!

Come on, Archie!

He looks like a baby

next to those guys.

He is.

MAN 1: Let's get a hit.

MAN 2: Let's go.

Oh!

MAN: Watch it, boy!

(BLOWING A RASPBERRY)

Say hey!

ANNIE: Don't let him

shake you up. Hang in there!

Knuckles, what did you throw

at the kid for?

He winked at me.

Don't wink, kid.

Good thing for you

he didn't throw the fastball.

Let's see that fastball.

MAN: Let's go. Come on.

MAN: Yeah!

UMPIRE: Ball.

Hey, ump! Come on.

Give us a break!

Hey, ump.

How about a warning?

Sure.

Watch out you don't get killed.

Time!

Those first two were

high and tight.

What will the next one be?

Well, either low and away

or in my ear.

He won't want

to load the bases.

So look for low and away.

All right.

But watch out for in your ear.

ANNIE: Come on, Archie!

MANN: Let's go, kid!

Batter, batter, batter, batter!

Come on, Arch.

It just takes one.

MAN: Never hit it, kid.

ANNIE: Yeah. Yeah.

RAY: That's deep enough.

MAN: Go! Go!

Go home!

Safe!

Son of a...

Way to go, Arch! Way to go!

MAN: Attaboy, Arch!

This is the wave!

MAN 1: Way to go, man!

MAN 2: Yeah, Archie.

MAN: All right.

That's what we needed.

Way to go.

Yeah. Way to go.

(MEN CHATTERING)

MAN 1: What is this?

MAN 2:

What is this jerk doing?

Hi.

Shit!

Wreck him.

MAN: Let me at him!

You're interrupting

the game, Mark.

Ray, it's time to put away

your little fantasies

and come down to Earth.

It's not a fantasy.

They're real.

Who is real?

Shoeless Joe Jackson,

the White Sox, all of them.

You mean?

He can't see any of them.

Well, who is this, Elvis?

ANNIE: Ray.

As a matter of fact,

it's Terence Mann.

How do you do?

I'm the Easter bunny.

Let's settle this thing now.

You have no money.

Look. I'm not selling.

You have no money!

You have a stack of bills!

Come fall,

you got no crop to sell.

I have a deal that allows you

to stay on the land.

We don't have to sell the farm.

You'll live

in the house rent-free.

What about the team?

Do you realize

how much this land is worth?

Yeah. Yeah.

2,200 bucks an acre.

We can't keep

a useless baseball diamond

in rich farmland.

Read my lips.

We're staying, all right?

We're staying.

Ray, you're bankrupt!

I'm offering you a way

to keep your home

because I love my sister.

My partners now, they don't give a damn about you,

and they're ready to foreclose right now.

Daddy, we don't have

to sell the farm.

Karin, please!

Just wait!

Wait!

People will come.

What people, sweetheart?

From all over.

They'll just decide

to take a vacation, see?

And they'll come to Iowa City.

They'll think

it's really boring.

So they'll want to pay us.

Like buying a ticket.

You're not seriously listening

to this, are you?

Yes.

Wait a minute.

Why would anybody pay money

to come here?

To watch the games.

It will be just like

when they were little kids

a long time ago.

They'll watch the game

and remember what it was like.

What the hell

is she talking about?

People will come.

All right.

This is fascinating,

but you don't have the money

to bring the mortgage

up to date.

You're still going

to have to sell.

I'm sorry, Ray.

We got no choice.

MANN: Ray.

People will come, Ray.

They'll come to Iowa

for reasons

they can't even fathom.

They'll turn up your driveway,

not knowing for sure

why they're doing it.

They'll arrive at your door

as innocent as children,

longing for the past.

"Of course, we won't mind

if you look around,"

you'll say.

"lt's only $20 per person."

They'll pass over the money

without even thinking

about it.

For it is money they have

and peace they lack.

Just sign the papers.

MANN: Then they'll walk out

to the bleachers

and sit in their shirt sleeves

on a perfect afternoon.

They'll find

they have reserved seats

somewhere along

one of the baselines,

where they sat

when they were children

and cheered their heroes,

and they'll watch the game,

and it will be as if

they dipped themselves

in magic waters.

The memories will be so thick,

they'll have to brush them

away from their faces.

Ray, when the bank opens

in the morning,

they'll foreclose.

People will come, Ray.

You're broke, Ray.

You sell now,

or you lose everything.

The one constant

through all the years, Ray,

has been baseball.

America has rolled by

like an army of steamrollers.

It's been erased

like a blackboard,

rebuilt, and erased again.

But baseball has marked

the time.

This field, this game.

It's a part of our past, Ray.

It reminds us of all

that once was good,

and it could be again.

Oh, people will come, Ray.

People will

most definitely come.

MARK: Ray,

you will lose everything.

You will be evicted.

Come on, Ray.

I'm not signing.

You're crazy. Absolutely nuts!

I can't do it, pal.

I mean,

you build a baseball field

in the middle of nowhere,

and you stare at nothing.

It's not nothing.

Your daughter's turned

into a space case.

Get your hands off her!

ANNIE: Karin?

ANNIE: ls she all right?

Is she breathing?

MANN: Should I get the car?

I'm going to call Emergency.

Annie, wait.

What?

Just wait.

What have we got here?

She fell.

GRAHAM: This child's choking

to death. Get her up.

Hold her steady now.

(KARIN COUGHING)

Hot dog. Stuck in her throat.

She'll be all right.

She'll be turning handsprings

before you know it.

Thank you, Doc.

No, son.

Thank you.

Oh, my God. You can't go back.

Hey, it's all right.

I'm sorry.

It's all right.

I best be getting on home

before Alicia begins to think

I got a girlfriend.

Hey, Doc.

Good work, Doc.

Nice going, Doc.

Going to miss you, Doc.

Win one for me one day,

will you, boys?

Okay, Doc.

Yeah.

When did these ballplayers

get here?

JOE: Hey, rookie!

You were good.

Do not sell this farm, Ray.

You got to keep this farm.

You've had a rough day.

Go inside and get

something cold to drink.

Yeah. That's a good idea.

Don't sell the farm, Ray.

Ray?

We're going to call it a day.

See you tomorrow.

Okay.

Hey, do you want

to come with us?

You mean it?

No, not you.

Him.

Him?

Come with you?

JOE: Out there.

What is out there?

Come and find out.

Wait a second. Why him?

I built this field.

You wouldn't be here

if it weren't for me.

Ray, I'm unattached.

You have a family.

I want to know what's out there.

But you're not invited.

Not invited? What do you mean

I'm not invited?

That's my corn out there.

You guys are guests

in my corn.

I've done everything

I've been asked to do.

I didn't understand it,

but I've done it.

I haven't once asked

what's in it for me.

What are you saying?

I'm saying,

"What's in it for me?"

ls that why you did this?

For you?

I think you'd better

stay here, Ray.

Why?

There's a reason they chose me,

just as there's a reason

they chose this field.

MANN: I gave that interview.

What interview?

What are you talking about?

The one about Ebbets Field,

the one that sent you

to Boston to find me.

You lied to me.

You were kidnapping me

at the time.

You lied.

You said your finger was a gun.

That's a good point.

Ray.

Listen to me, Ray.

Listen to me.

There is something out there,

and if I have the courage

to go through with this,

what a story it'll make.

"Shoeless Joe Jackson comes

to Iowa."

What? Are you going

to write about it?

You bet I'll write about it.

You're going to write about it.

That's what I do.

Good.

ANNIE: Honey?

Honey, where's he going?

Terry's been invited

to go out with the others.

How are you feeling, sweetheart?

Stupid.

You mean out?

Yeah.

Out.

ANNIE: Far out.

I want a full description.

Take care of this family.

ANNIE: Be careful.

Bye.

What?

What are you grinning at,

you ghost?

"lf you build it,

"he will come."

Oh, my God.

What? What is it?

It's my father.

"Ease his pain."

ANNIE: "Go the distance."

RAY: It was you.

No, Ray.

It was you.

RAY: My God. I...

I only saw him years later

when he was worn down by life.

Look at him.

He's got his whole life

in front of him, and I'm not

even a glint in his eye.

What do I say to him?

ANNIE: Why don't you introduce

him to his granddaughter?

JOHN: Hi.

Hi.

I just wanted

to thank you folks

for putting up this field,

letting us play here.

I'm John Kinsella.

I'm Ray.

My wife Annie.

Hi.

This is my daughter Karin.

Karin, this is my...

This is John.

KARIN: Hi, John.

Hiya, Karin.

Well, we're going to let

you two talk.

I mean, if all these people

are going to come,

we got a lot of work to do.

It was very nice meeting you.

Ma'am.

Come on, hon.

You catch a good game.

Thank you.

It's so beautiful here.

For me...

Well, for me it's like

a dream come true.

Can I ask you something?

Is... ls this heaven?

It's Iowa.

Iowa.?

Yeah.

I could have sworn

it was heaven.

Is...

ls there a heaven?

Oh, yeah.

It's the place dreams come true.

Maybe this is heaven.

Well...

Good night, Ray.

Good night, John.

RAY: Hey, Dad?

You want to have a catch?

I'd like that.