Your Field of Dreams

by Tom Shafer

February 7, 2019

So, I’m finally in the homestretch before my twice-postponed back surgery, and I’m struggling with pain and lack of sleep. Now, by a conservative count, I have endured over twenty surgical procedures requiring anesthesia or epidurals (numerous others that didn’t), and I like to think that I know a thing or two about pain and its management. But nothing in my past (including three ACL tears and repairs, one ACL replacement surgery, one total knee replacement, one compound fracture of my left ankle, and a ruptured colon and its one foot retraction) remotely compares with the discomfort being caused by my damaged L5 and crushed S1. With all of the other injuries and issues and their subsequent surgeries, I could always find relief from the pain, even the most challenging ones.

But there is no relief from this herniated disc and related nerve pain. During the day, I can distract myself enough to get by, but at night, not so much. Most nights, I’m lucky to get three or four hours of interrupted sleep, but twice a week I get almost none. On those nights, I thrash about trying to find the best uncomfortable position (one where the pain threshold is three instead of five to nine), but I never find one. I spend some time reading (now working through The Lord of the Rings series – including The Hobbit – for the first time since junior high), but occasionally I wander out to my lounge chair and turn on the boob tube for distraction. I had to do that just last night, and I happened across the movie Field of Dreams on Showtime.

If you were alive and paying attention when the film was released in 1989, you know that critics were all over the map with their analysis of it. Some loved the characters and the multitude of messages conveyed, others dismissed it as melodramatic and schmaltzy. It did garner an Oscar Best Picture nomination, so many in the industry must have liked it. As for me, I recognize the syrupy-nature of the film, but at the same time always appreciate and applaud the positive messages.

For the uninitiated, Field of Dreams is about a farmer in Iowa (Kevin Costner) who follows the instructions of a mysterious cornfield voice by constructing a baseball field on his land for the ghosts of great MLB players, in particular “Shoeless” Joe Jackson (Ray Liotta). However, as Ray discovers later, the field is actually a means to remedy a severed relationship with his long-dead father. Of course, this is oversimplification because the movie explores a variety of themes and motifs: the power of redemption, recovering lost chances, following a dream, and realizing the impact of words (among others). Ultimately, we are left with the idea that we should appreciate the things (and people) that we have.

At times, I actually utilized Field of Dreams as a teaching tool in my American Literature class. For my Literary Analysis Unit, students were expected to analyze (and compose essays concerning) a variety of writings and mediums: poetry, short stories, novels, art, music, and movies. For the film analysis component, we would watch a film (of my choosing), deconstruct it, then formulate together a sample paper. Students liked my methodology because this “practice” helped when they had to construct their own essays. Anyway, I liked to use FoD because it presented few characters while utilizing many obvious literary elements that students might address in their own papers: imagery, symbolism, theme, characterization, and point of view – oh, and it was a relatively short movie (1:45). With my less-confident students, I would demand that at least one paragraph deal with theme, and that a singular statement from the film should encapsulate that theme.

In our deconstruction of FoD, I always hoped that my students would choose a statement made by Archibald “Moonlight” Graham (Burt Lancaster) – though more often than not they would pick Terence Mann’s (James Earl Jones) speech about baseball (and life), which is a pretty good choice. But I always felt that Doc Graham’s quote was more poignant, and much more personal. In this scene, Doc Graham is explaining how he played only one inning in the major leagues and never got to bat. It was the end of the season, and he knew that he was being sent back to the minor leagues the following year – and he just couldn’t do it. So he secured a medical degree and returned to his hometown to practice medicine there. About playing that one inning (in right field), Doc said, “You know we just don’t recognize the most significant moments of our lives 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 what’s not to love about this quote, especially because it is so true. Frankly, I didn’t blame my students for not appreciating its beauty and essence. For the most part, they hadn’t experienced enough of life to see just how true it is. Recognition like this requires actual living, sharing and relishing the highs, enduring and suffering the lows. And with time and remembrance, two important ingredients, we can look back and wonder (or with wonder) about our most significant moments. How were they handled? What were their ramifications on our lives? Would we do anything differently?

Life is such a finicky entity. I’m not a believer in fatalism, the idea that our lives are mapped out and we are merely following a dotted path – perhaps with a few branches of choice. However, when we look back at the most important moments of our lives, frequently they aren’t major plot points like marriage, graduation, or securing that first life-sustaining job. More often than not, they are chance encounters, accidental meetings, missed opportunities. Or, in Moonlight Graham’s case, playing just one major league inning in right field. Though at times life might seem like Mad Libs or a choose-your-own-adventure book, it really isn’t. YOUR choices are truly infinite.

So let me give you one bit of advice about all of this. Don’t dwell on your significant moments and their aftermaths. It might be an interesting exercise to look back at your life map to see how you got to the present, but there is danger in dwelling too much, Will Robinson! Knowing history helps us not to repeat it, but reliving it helps nothing. Remember, though Doc Graham never got to bat in the major leagues, his decision to practice medicine was a better one for him – and the townspeople where he lived. There, his life ripples affected so many more people. Today, yours might as well.

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