In the summer of 1987, the Salt Lake Trappers were a scrappy, independent baseball team cobbled together with players no other teams wanted, and they pulled off something no one thought possible. They won 29 games in a row, the longest winning streak in professional baseball history. A record that still stands today.
For a few weeks during the summer of ’87, this team of underdogs captured national attention. But like so many summer stories, their moment faded. The TV cameras were stowed, the national media caught flights back home and the Trappers went back to their dugout, hoping to live to play another Pioneer League game.
Nearly four decades later, filmmaker Kelyn Ikegami has resurrected the ’87 Trappers’ story in his debut feature-length documentary, “The Streak.” Ikegami didn’t set out to make a film about baseball history; he wanted to tell a human story. A story about resilience, heartbreak, and the elusive search for meaning when the cheering stops.
A director drawn to contradictions
Ikegami admits he wasn’t convinced at first. A winning streak, even a historic one, felt more like trivia than a full-length movie. That was the thought at least, until he started talking to the players.
“At first, the record-breaking streak was just a hook,” Ikegami says. “But it wasn’t enough to convince me to make a film. The turning point came when I started speaking with the players themselves. Their struggles, their hopes, their failures. These contradictions drew me in.”
Director Kelyn Ikegami, behind the scenes of “The Streak. (Photo: The Plains)
That tension between triumph and heartbreak, immortality and obscurity became the heartbeat of “The Streak.”
Ikegami thought of Ken Burns’ observation that baseball is filled with contradictions: a pastoral game born in cities, conservative yet ahead of its time, haunted by the past yet full of hope. The Trappers embodied that paradox perfectly.
“They were immortalized in the Hall of Fame, yet never reached the majors,” Ikegami says. “They lived through both grace and loss. That duality was irresistible to me. It wasn’t just a sports story. It was a human one.”
Building a story in two acts
That duality shaped the film’s structure. The first half plays like a classic sports documentary, reliving the thrill of all 29 wins with archival footage, needle drops and the rhythm of baseball at its most exhilarating.
“By giving audiences the thrill they expect, I’m also earning their willingness to follow me when the film pivots,” Ikegami explains.
And pivot it does. Once the streak ends, the film slows. Interviews become more intimate. Pauses grow longer. Music fades into silence.
“The contrast in pacing isn’t just an aesthetic choice,” he says. “It’s designed to make the audience feel the same jarring transition the players experienced as their dreams gave way to an aftermath.”
Beyond baseball
The second act is where the film becomes something more. It’s not just about stats or highlight reels; it’s about the lives behind the uniforms.
“Frank” opens up about sobriety and grief for teammates lost. “Jon” confronts the weight of his father’s expectations. Koichi wrestles with feelings of self-worth after returning to Japan. “Ed” finds redemption through faith.
Don’t know these guys? Not to worry, because you feel like they’re old friends once the film ends.
“What surprised me most was how deeply personal and vulnerable the players were willing to get,” Ikegami says. “The real climax of the film wasn’t the streak itself, but the players reuniting decades later. That moment of brotherhood, healing and shared reflection was more powerful than any scoreboard.”
Utah rallies around a great story. And the Trappers gave Salt Lake one of its best.–Kelyn Ikegami
What emerges is a portrait of resilience. Yes, the Trappers never made it to the majors. Yes, dreams went unfulfilled. But in the decades since, they’ve built lives filled with meaning as fathers, as friends and as men who learned to carry both triumph and failure side by side.
A bridge to Tokyo
Ikegami’s own story mirrors that outsider perspective. Born in Tokyo and raised between cultures, he found a connection to baseball when he moved to the U.S.
“Growing up in Tokyo, then moving to the U.S. as a kid, I was always aware of being in between cultures. Baseball was one of the few bridges I had,” he says.
When he later came to Utah to attend BYU, Ikegami discovered the story of the Trappers and immediately connected with it.
“Their story resonated with me because it wasn’t just about winning games, it was about belonging, about carving out meaning in a place where you weren’t expected to succeed,” he says. “In many ways, my cultural background gave me an entry point into their experiences, and it shaped how I wanted to tell the story: not just as a sports film, but as a very human one.”
The spirit of Salt Lake City
Though Ikegami wasn’t in Utah during the Trappers’ streak, he sees the team as a reflection of the city itself.
Film director Kelyn Ikegami behind the scenes of “The Streak.” (Photo: The Plains)
“Salt Lake is often overlooked, maybe even underestimated, but it has so much to offer. A strong sense of community, a thriving arts scene, incredible access to nature,” he says. “The Trappers were underestimated, too, and they proved themselves on a national stage.”
The streak came before the Bees, before the Olympics, before Salt Lake City had fully grown into the sports city it is today. But it showed something essential about the community.
“Utah rallies around a great story,” Ikegami says. “And the Trappers gave Salt Lake one of its best.”
Earning trust
Capturing the heart of the Trappers’ story on film meant asking the players to revisit painful memories that included addiction, fractured families, lost dreams, and questions of identity.
“In the 1980s, being a man meant being tough, stoic, unyielding,” Ikegami says. “Addiction, grief, or even talking about failure didn’t fit into that model. So, when I asked the players to go there, it wasn’t natural. But once they realized I wasn’t just chasing a ‘where are they now’ sports story, everything changed.”
Ikegami spent time with the former players off-camera, sharing meals, building trust, listening. That trust, he believes, is why the film resonates.
Coming home
After winning the Audience Award at the Nashville Film Festival, “The Streak” is returning to where the story began. It will play at the Broadway Centre Cinemas in downtown Salt Lake City from Aug. 22–28, before heading to streaming platforms later this year.
For Ikegami, those screenings matter more than any award.
“At the end of the day, “The Streak” was made for Utahns,” he says. “It’s a story rooted here, and it’s something we can all be proud of.”
A record that still stands
Nearly four decades later, the Trappers’ 29-game streak remains unbroken. But for Ikegami, the true legacy of that summer isn’t measured in numbers.
“What’s most significant is that the streak gave these players, and really all of us, a reminder that greatness can come from the most unlikely places,” he says. “That record is proof that even outsiders, underdogs, and overlooked dreamers can create something timeless.”
Like the team itself, “The Streak” is more than a sports story; it’s a Utah story and a human story about hope, heartbreak, and the enduring power of community.
Make sure to catch “The Streak” for a limited run at the Broadway Centre Cinemas in Salt Lake City, Aug. 22–28.
The Key Takeaways for this article were generated with the assistance of large language models and reviewed by our editorial team. The article, itself, is solely human-written.