SO the topic of Ray Kinsella's father came up.
I loved Field of Dreams from the moment I first saw it. As an idea, as a look at things lost and things found. The story was wholly original, and in some ways almost corny.
But wow, it still works. What's wild to me now is how different my life is than it was 33(!) years ago. I'm nowhere near the same person I was in 1989. But the movie is the same.
There always seems to be a fabled quality to baseball movies. M shared the idea that most everything you do in baseball is failure. The greatest hitters since antiquity have never attained a .400 batting average. Which means 60 percent failure is ... unquestionably the best player in baseball history.
Statistically every time you go to the plate you know you're going to make an out. That's the most common outcome.
I keep thinking about this.
