Finding Baseball in Iowa

Driving past the 'Welcome to Iowa' sign on Interstate 35, I wasn't sure what kind of baseball culture I would find.  It was my first time in the state.  I knew there were some minor league clubs scattered here and there, but it was already after Labor Day, which is typically the final day of the minor league season.  I had just spent three days in Missouri, home to two major league teams and the Negro Leagues Museum.  Missouri is a great baseball state.  But Iowa?

The first thing I came across was a Walmart with a traditional Amish horse and buggy tied up in the parking lot.  So far, the state was living up to my expectations.  I was on my way to Van Meter, a rural community settled in the late 19th Century along the banks of the Raccoon River.  With a population just a tick above one thousand, Van Meter is really only known to the rest of the world for two things.  The first is a mysterious creature that was sighted multiple times during one week in 1903.  Now dubbed the Van Meter Visitor, the half-man / half-beast sported large bat-like wings and a glowing horn.  It was never seen again and remains a mystery to this day.  Luckily for residents of this small town, Van Meter is also known for being the home of Hall of Fame pitcher, Bob Feller.  In 1995, a museum was constructed to house memorabilia from his distinguished career.

I love small museums for home town heroes.  I've been to several, including Babe Ruth (Baltimore, MD), Honus Wagner (Carnegie, PA), Cy Young (Newcomerstown, OH), Ty Cobb (Royston, GA), Johnny Mize (Demorest, GA), Jimmy Foxx (Sudlersville, MD), and Shoeless Joe Jackson (Greenville, SC).  The Bob Feller Museum catches your attention immediately as you drive up, due to a beautiful monochrome mural that creates the illusion of a relief sculpture.  Once inside I was greeted by a man who put on a VHS tape that must have been filmed in the 1970s.  The film depicted a young Tom Seaver speaking with a middle-age Feller.  As the tape ran, I walked around the cozy-yet-fascinating exhibit.  In the center of the room was a bat which the curation claims to be the one that Babe Ruth propped up against in the famous photo from the Bambino's 1948 goodbye tour.  Apparently, Babe grabbed the bat - belonging to Feller - out of the visitors' dugout right before the photo was taken.

It was Day 1 and I was already learning that Iowa and baseball do mix.  My next stop was Iowa City to visit an old friend.  Soon after I got to town, I learned that the Cedar Rapid Kernels (formerly a Class A affiliate of the Anaheim Angels) had advanced to the Minor League playoffs.  I hadn't considered the post-season!  I was going to see a game after all!  On a beautiful Midwestern evening, a decent size crowd came out to cheer on their team for the full nine innings.  The Kernels engaged in a fierce pitching battle, with both teams making their share of spectacular defensive plays.  In the end, the home team was outscored 2 - 1, but it was one of the best games I saw that summer.  Although he wasn't in the line-up, I later learned that a relatively unknown prospect named Mike Trout was almost certainly sitting in the Kernels' dug-out that night.  He had started the year with the rookie-level Arizona Angels, but had been called up to the Single A to finish his first season of professional ball.  He was 17 years old.

The following day, my friend Shayla and I grabbed a couple of gloves and headed out to the Field of Dreams movie site in Dyersville, Iowa. According to the website, the field receives about 65,000 visitors a year.  Like the final scene in the movie predicts, people are just somehow drawn to it.  I don't know what it looks now, but in September of 2009, it looked just like it did in the iconic film!  As we pulled into the parking lot, I instantly became 12 years old again.  Shayla and I played catch in the outfield for a while, and then took turns snapping photos of each other walking out of the corn and sitting on the bleachers.  It may not have been heaven (as the characters in the movie suggest), but for a baseball lover in the middle of a four-week baseball-themed road trip... it was pretty close.

On the way back to town, we passed a sign for the Red Faber exhibit at the Tri-County Historical Society in Cascade, Iowa.  Unfortunately, it was already late in the day and entrance to the museum was by appointment only.  That's okay, though.  I believe you should always leave something for your next trip.  I'll catch up with the Hall of Fame spitballer next time around.

When morning came, I packed up my car and got back on the highway.  In just a couple of days, my definition of what it means to be "a great baseball state" had totally changed.  Somewhere among the hometown heroes, the minor league playoffs, and the iconic corn field that transformed me back to my childhood, I had re-connected with the game in a way that I hadn't for a long time.  It's easy to get discouraged by your favorite team's struggling bullpen or repetitive failure to make the playoffs, but there's something about the game that keeps fans coming back year after year.  Whatever that "something" is, I had caught a glimpse of it in Iowa and was eager to learn more.  As fortune would have it, I was headed to the city that invented discouraged fans who keep coming back year after year.  I had a ticket in my pocket for that night's game at Wrigley Field.  

To see more photos from my trip, check out my album Baseball in Iowa.


Photos: 1. The Cedar Rapid Kernels getting ready for the game; 2. the Walmart in Osceola, Iowa; 3. famous shot from Babe Ruth's farewell tour; 4. Kernels fans at Veteran Memorial Park; 5. Shayla on the Field of Dreams bleachers once occupied by James Earl Jones; 6. Red Faber exhibit at the Tri-County Historical Society in Cascade, Iowa (photo taken from the website).  *photos by Danial Orange, except for 3 and 6.