His big-league career lasted all of one game, a few fleeting moments in right field.
He stood out there on a summer afternoon so long ago, on a patch of grass since paved over in Brooklyn.
Yet many folks are certain that Moonlight Graham was a made-up character from a movie, not a real-life ballplayer for the New York Giants.
'' 'Field of Dreams' was before my time," said Willie Mays, the greatest Giant of them all. ''That was a real thing? How come nobody told me?"
Yet the tale is true, at least most of it. On June 29, 1905 -- 100 years ago this Wednesday -- Archibald Wright Graham made his lone appearance in the majors.
He never got to bat. He was left on deck. A late substitute in a lopsided 11-1 win, he played only two innings and there's no proof that he even touched the ball.
''Graham went to right field for New York" was the only mention of him in the local Evening Telegram's play-by-play account. And, just that fast, the 28-year-old rookie described in the sporting press as being ''quick as a flash of moonlight" was gone.
No wonder it took quite a while for his story to get around -- and for author W.P. Kinsella to make Graham such a part of the poetry and romance that celebrate the lore and lure of baseball.
More than a decade after Graham died in 1965, the prize-winning author was leafing through the Baseball Encyclopedia that his father-in-law had given him for Christmas a few days earlier. Among the listings for every player, Kinsella came across something that stopped him.
''I found this entry for Moonlight Graham," he said. ''How could anyone come up with that nickname? He played one game but did not get to bat. I was intrigued, and I made a note that I intended to write something about him."
A few years later, his 1982 novel ''Shoeless Joe" was adapted into the 1989 film ''Field of Dreams," and Moonlight was reborn.
Eventually, there was a band called Moonlight Graham, a couple of websites were dedicated to him, and a scholarship fund was established in his honor.
''I didn't anticipate this happening," Kinsella said in a telephone interview from his home in British Columbia.
In the movie, Graham's name mystically flickers onto the scoreboard at Fenway Park so Kevin Costner can see it. The Graham character, played by Burt Lancaster, later reflects on the lost at-bat and says: ''Back then I thought, 'Well, there'll be other days.' I didn't realize that that was the only day."
And he asks, ''Is there enough magic out there in the moonlight to make this dream come true?"
Veda Ponikvar knew Graham for almost a half-century in Chisholm, Minn. He arrived around 1912 after the town placed a newspaper ad for a school doctor, and Ponikvar said Graham never talked about his ballplaying. Or explained his nickname.
''I think it was because by the light of the moon, he practiced his game," she said. ''But some people said it was because he moonlighted as a doctor."
No matter, she said, Lancaster's kindly portrayal was perfect.
''I remember probably in the third grade when he inoculated me for scarlet fever," she said. ''I still have the mark on my arm. Growing up, I thought it was the most horrible thing. Later on, I thought, 'Oh, Doc Graham, you're pretty precious. You left your mark.' "
Now in her mid-80s, she'll be at the Metrodome Wednesday to throw out the first ball before Kansas City plays Minnesota on Moonlight Graham Day.
All because of sheer luck.
When Kinsella thumbed through the Baseball Encyclopedia, he could've easily come across Twink Twining, Goat Cochran, or Steamboat Struss. Of the more than 16,000 players in major league history, they're among the 900-plus guys who got into only one game.
''I had no backup," Kinsella said. ''My approach to fiction writing is that when I need facts, I invent them. So I would have invented a background for Moonlight Graham, but I'm sure nothing as wonderful as the truth.
''It was a gold mine."
OK, so what if he really didn't play on the last day of the 1922 season, as in the movie? Or that he batted lefthanded, rather than righty in the film? Or that he got sent down after his one big league game and spent three more years in the minors?
Those blue hats he bought for his wife, Alecia? ''Absolutely true," Ponikvar said. And the way he patted children to clear food stuck in their throats? ''He did it to me," she said.
Oh, another fact: His younger brother, Frank, was a US senator from North Carolina.
Graham was a pretty good hitter for three years in the minors. Giants manager John McGraw invited him to spring training in 1905, but Graham declined because he wanted to finish medical school. According to extensive work by Bill Moose for the Society for American Baseball Research, Graham finally joined the Giants on May 23.
Five weeks later, he made his debut at Brooklyn's Washington Park -- built before Ebbets Field.
In a game against the Superbas -- the forerunners of the Dodgers -- Graham replaced George Browne in right field for the bottom of the eighth inning. Nothing was hit his way.
Then he was left on deck in the ninth when pitcher Claude Elliott flied out. In the bottom half, Graham may have gotten a play.
Switch hitter Charlie Malay singled -- presumably, he was batting lefty against the righty Elliott -- and perhaps he pulled it in Graham's direction. But there's simply no record of where the ball went.
''It's possible that maybe he touched it," Moose said. ''No telling for sure."