D1P3

The bus continues its barreling run down the freeway. Outside, Iowa looks like Iowa. Inside, Game 1 of the 1987 World Series is playing. Scattered conversations ripple up and down the aisles.

“He was that guy who gave up the home run to Gibson? What’s his name? He was a starter for a long time.”

“Eckersly?”

“Oh, yeah, Eckersly. That’s the one.”

It’s about 70% baseball talk. The rest is simply getting to know everyone.

My seatmate tells me he was a public affairs officer in the Army reserve during the Vietnam era. It’s odd how small and recursive the world seems sometimes.

Bob sits one seat ahead of me, in the front left seat, by the door and driver.

“How’d you get into this business?” I ask.

“It’s something that’s always been a dream for me. My friends and I decided we wanted to go on a trip to see the stadiums,” Bob said. “You know how friends can be with commitments and stuff.”

Bob said that he actually ended up taking matters into his own hands; since he had experience chartering youth baseball buses with the local bus company, he decided to just rent a bus and fill it with paying customers. He found 49 willing participants.

“I had to advertise in the weirdest places,” Bob said.

Seven years later, Bob does multiple trips a year. He’s done trips to 28 major and minor league stadiums. He's shepherded his charges through delays and broken bones.

He must really like baseball.