#38: “You trying to say Jesus Christ can’t hit a curveball?”

major league

#38: Major League — dir. by David Ward

It’s hard to get into the best sports movie of all time argument.  I know geographically and biologically, I’m supposed to say Rocky.  And I know instinctively, it’s probably a baseball movie, more likely Field of Dreams or Bull Durham.  It ain’t a basketball film.  It’s not a soccer film.  Golf, probably the number 3.  Football, well, hmm.  Hockey, Slap Shot, maaaaaybe Mighty Ducks, but honestly, no.  And at least five Air Bud films.  So I won’t posit that Major League is the best sports film of all time.  Not a chance.

And yet, I’ll watch that son of a bitch every time it’s on.  It’s so quotable.  Who doesn’t say “Juuuuuuuuust a bit outside”?  I do the “Fuck you, Joboo, I do it myself” speech at least once a month to myself to psyche myself up.  It’s a rowdy film that became a catch phrase.  Even though the second film makes fun of itself for that aspect — the whole Rick Vaughn “Gentleman” storyline — it still became that.  They made three Major Leagues, and Sheen was trying to raise capital for a fourth before he wetnt all hashtags and tiger blood.  But none of them will ever capture the magic of the first one.

I don’t know when the tradition of the smart ass announcers began.  I think it was Naked Gun.  But Bob Uecker’s Harry Doyle is outstanding and definitely set the bar high.  And an R rated sports comedy?!  Who the fuck does that?  That’s amazingly ballsy.  Pun fully intended.

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