Ray, people will come Ray. They will come to Iowa for reasons they can’t even fathom. They will turn into your driveway, not knowing for sure why they are doing it. They will 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 twenty dollars a person .” And they will pass over the money without even thinking about it. For it is money they have and peace they like. They’ll walk out to the bleachers and sit in the short sleeves on a perfect afternoon. They’ll find you’ll 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. Their memories will be so thick, they’ll have to brush them away from their faces. People will come, Ray.
The one constant through all the years, Ray, has been baseball. America has rolled by like an army of steamrollers. It has been erased like a blackboard, rebuild, and erased again. But baseball has marked the time. This field, this game is a part of our past, Ray. It reminds us of all that once was good and that could be again
Ohhhh, people will come Ray. People will most definitely come.
