They have been following Michael Jordan all over creation for nearly a week.
They showed up in bunches at every practice session.
And they began gathering at Diablo Stadium nearly four hours before Thursday's game time.
Waiting. Lingering. Cheering. They lurch over fences and fill every nook and cranny trying to get a little closer to the best baseball story going this fall.
With all that has gone wrong with baseball the last few months, with major league stadiums dark for nearly two months, with the World Series canceled, with millions of baseball's hardcore fans longing for something to cling to, Jordan's improbable odyssey is just the tonic for any October baseball fix.
To all those obnoxious purists who believe the World's Greatest Athlete somehow soiled their precious emerald chessboard with his quest to go from NBA stardom to a major league career, they ought to see all these people streaming into Diablo Stadium by the thousands - a league-record 6,116 for the opening game Thursday night.
The public understands what the condescending purists do not.
This remains one of the most remarkable sports achievements of the year.
Here is a 31-year-old, who hasn't played organized baseball since high school, who was good enough to jump into Class AA baseball and hit .202, steal 30 bases and drive in 51 runs.
To a 22-year-old phenom, those might not be incredible numbers. But for a man who has been away from the game 13 years - even one so athletically gifted as His Royal Airness - the achievement, and quest, are mind-boggling.
"What he did this summer was amazing," says Terry Francona, Jordan's manager in Birmingham, Ala., and again in Scottsdale. "Trust me, I did it enough to know how hard it is to hit .200 in pro ball. But you have to remember something. He isn't after `amazing.' He wants to be in the majors.
"He really doesn't want to settle for what he has already done. . . . But I tell you what, it really was remarkable."
How bad can Jordan's presence be? A year ago, the Arizona league sold 21 season tickets. As of Wednesday afternoon, according to league officials, more than 2,200 had been sold.
Thursday marked the one-year anniversary of Jordan's shocking retirement from the Chicago Bulls after leading them to three NBA titles.
At the time, only Jordan knew he was privately preparing to risk total embarrassment by giving up his lofty position as basketball's supreme being to chase his boyhood dream of a baseball career.
"I was ready to accept a new challenge in my life," says Jordan, reflecting back. "No one else knew it, but I knew it. I knew I wanted to (play baseball). I didn't know it would happen, but I wanted it to happen.
"I was getting into something that meant a lot to me. I was taking another step, a step that a lot of people don't tend to take, a step of possibly being disappointed, or being considered not the best. It was a step I was willing to take."
Thursday, Jordan admitted there was a time in late May when the disappointments were taking a toll on his confidence. And if not for Francona, Jordan might have quit.
"I remember going to him in Memphis," Jordan says. "I was really in my most down point of the season. I went to him and quite frankly asked his opinion if was I doing the right thing.
"Quite frankly, his comments made me stick to what I was trying to do. He let me know, `Hey, I can do this.' That was the closest I came to quitting."
Fortunately, Jordan resisted the temptation, and baseball should be thrilled he did.
For all he has done since putting on a baseball uniform is bring positive attention to a sport in dire need of it and bring dignity to himself by risking his athletic reputation for the sake of a lifelong dream.
