All language subtitles for Field.of.Dreams.1989.

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.

Settling in Chicago,
he learned to live and die

with the White Sox.

Died a little when they
lost the 1919 World Series,

died a lot when eight White Sox were
accused of throwing that Series.

He played some in the minors,
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.

In '58, the Dodgers moved away,
so we had to find other reasons to fight.

We did.

When I chose a college,

I picked the farthest
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.

I'm 36 years old,
I love my family,

I love baseball,
and I'm about to become a farmer.

But until I heard the voice,

I'd never done a crazy thing
in my whole life.

If you build it, he will come.

If you build it, he will come.

Hey, Annie!

Annie, what was that?

What was what?

That voice just now.
What was it?

We didn't hear anything.

All right.

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?

"If 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.

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,
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.

Bye.

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...

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.

If you build it, he will come.

All right, that's it!
Who the...

Who are you?
What do you want from me?

Son of a...

If you build it, he will come.

If you build it...

If you build it,

he will come.

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 "If you build
it, he will come" means.

Why do I not think
this is so good?

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?

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.

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.

- Could he hit?
- Could he hit?

Lifetime average. 356,
third highest in history.

Why'd they call him
Shoeless Joe?

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.

He's going to lose his farm.

Damned fool.

Then in 1919, his team,
the Chicago White Sox,

they threw the World Series.

What's "threw"?

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.

If he threw it,

how do you explain he hit .375 for
the Series and committed no errors?

I can't.

Twelve hits including
the Series' only home run,

and they said
he's trying to lose?

It's ridiculous.

The commissioner of baseball
suspended eight of the players,

including the great Shoeless
Joe Jackson, for life.

What's "suspend"?

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?

Any sign?

Something's going to happen
out there.

I can feel it.

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 up 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?

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.

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?

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?

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.

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

My partners will give you
a fair price.

Thanks, Mark.
Thanks, Mark, but no.

No.

What are you holding
onto this place for?

You never liked Iowa.

That's not true.

You don't know
the first thing about farming.

I know a lot about farming.
More than you think.

Well, then how could you plow
under your major crop?

What's a crop?

Come on. That is funny.
What's a crop?

Daddy, the baseball game is on.

Excuse us.

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.

Buck!

All right.

Hoy! Hoy! Hoy!

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.

Show off!

Stick it in your ear, Gandil.

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 right, Karin.

Hey, hey, hey!

Ray? Honey, Mom
and everybody's leaving now.

Okay.

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.

You don't see them?

Karin, honey,
what are you watching?

The baseball men.

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 18 years.

You don't smoke, do you?

No.

Karin! Ray! Dinner!

"Ray, dinner."
"Dinner, Ray."

All right, all right.

Come on.
Let's hit the showers.

See you later.

See you, guys.

I'm melting! I'm melting!

Come on, you knucklehead.

That is so cool.

Ease his pain.

What?

I'm sorry. What?
I didn't understand. What?

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.

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...
Is 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-I-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 his books,
and I dearly wish he had written 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!

Annie.

All right, honey.
I've got a better idea.

Let's take a vote.
Who's for Eva Braun?

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!

I figured it out.
I figured it out.

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 neofascism in America...

Terence Mann.
What about him?

That's whose pain.
You sure?

I was right about building
the field, wasn't I?

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,

but what's 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.

So he stops writing books,

he starts writing poetry
about whales,

and then he starts fooling
around with a 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 Is Not A Kite."

It's not his best work,

but the story's hero

is named John Kinsella,
my father.

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.

"It never happened.
The Dodgers left Brooklyn.

"Ebbets Field is gone,
but I still dream that dream."

That's sad.

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,
but building the field was 5, 10% weirder.

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.

This is really
new territory for us,

but we're dealing
with primal forces of nature.

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?

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.

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. Eating a hot dog.
Eating a hot dog.

I had the same dream.

I'll help you pack.

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.

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?

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.

I was hoping I wouldn't have
to do it this way.

What the hell is that?

It's a gun.

It's your finger.

No, it's a gun.

Let me see it.

I'm not going to show you
my gun.

I'm not going to hurt you.
I need you to come with...

What are you doing?

I'll beat you with a crowbar
until you go away.

Wait! You can't do that.

There are rules here? 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...

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?

Come to this game.
I'll never bother you again, not even...

Not even a Christmas card.

So what do you do
with yourself these days?

I live, I work.

I learned how to cook.

I take walks and watch sunsets.

Don't you miss being 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?

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.

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's right.
You're right. You're right.

This is so bitching.

I don't believe I'm doing this.

Hey, Annie, guess what?
I'm with Terence Mann.

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.
- I don't believe this.

What's in Minnesota?

An old ballplayer.
I'll explain when I get home.

How are things with you?

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?

I'll try.

Bye-bye.

Bye.

Why didn't you tell him?

Annie, you got no choice
in the matter.

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.

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 IRS.

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.

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?

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?

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.

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.

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.

Your wife called.
She wants you to call her tonight.

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...

No.

Wait a second.

I'm going to Iowa with you.

We're coming home.

Hell, I can't quit now.
I got to see this ballpark.

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?

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?

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.

Daddy!

Karin, come here.

Hi!

We missed you.

Are you, okay?

Yeah. This is Terence Mann.

Terry.

Welcome.

Hi, Terry.

And this young fella
is... This is Archie Graham.

Archie.

He's come to practice
with the team.

He'll be able to do
a lot more than that.

What does that mean?

What do you say?
What do you say?

Hey, Ray. Welcome back.

Thanks, Joe.

Oh, my God.

What?

That's Shoeless Joe Jackson.

Of course it is.

You didn't believe me?

I thought I did, but...

Oh, my God.

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?

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.

- Ho!
- Safe!

Go, Graham! Go, kid!

Come on, Archie!

He looks like a baby
next to those guys.

He is.

Let's get a hit.

Let's go.

Watch it, boy!

Say hey!

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.

Let's go. Come on.

- Yeah!
- Ball.

Hey, ump! Come on.
Give us a break!

Hey, ump.

How about a warning?
Sure.

Watch out you don't get killed.

Time!

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.

- Come on, Archie!
- Let's go, kid!

Batter, batter, batter, batter!

Come on, Arch.
It just takes one.

Never hit it, kid.

Yeah. Yeah.

That's deep enough.

Go! Go!

Go home!

Safe!

Son of a...

Way to go, Arch! Way to go!

Attaboy, Arch!

This is the wave!

- Way to go, man!
- Yeah, Archie.

All right.

That's what we needed.

Way to go.

Yeah. Way to go.

What is this?

What is this jerk doing?

Hi!

Shit!

Wreck him.

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?

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 don't care
and are ready to foreclose.

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.

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.

"It'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.

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.

People will come, Ray.

People will
most definitely come.

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!

Karin?

Is she all right?
Is she breathing?

Should I get the car?

I'm going to call Emergency.

Annie, wait.

What?

Just wait.

What have we got here?

She fell.

This child's choking
to death. Get her up.

Hold her steady now.

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?

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?

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?"

Is 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.

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.

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.

Good.

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.

Far out.

I want a full description.

Take care of this family.

Be careful.

Bye.

What?

What are you grinning at,
you ghost?

"If you build it,

"he will come."

Oh, my God.

What? What is it?

It's my father.

"Ease his pain."

"Go the distance."

It was you.

No, Ray.

It was you.

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?

Why don't you introduce
him to his granddaughter?

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.

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... Is this heaven?

It's Iowa.

Iowa?

Yeah.

I could have sworn
it was heaven.

Is...

Is there a heaven?

Yeah.

It's the place dreams come true.

Maybe this is heaven.

Well...

Good night, Ray.

Good night, John.

Hey, Dad?

You want to have a catch?

I'd like that.