Thoughts from the Stands: May 2020

Thursday, May 14, 2020

A League of Their Own commentary, part 14: ‘It’s Dottie’

Pretty much the entire movie was a flashback, and it’s very well done. There’s no cheesiness to it, no jumping around between time periods. It’s just Dottie going back and remembering that one magical season she played professional baseball.

She starts to reconnect with some of her original Peaches teammates who are at the ballpark, first with Doris and Mae when Doris throws a baseball in Dottie’s direction to see if it’s her. After that same “pop!” sound of bare-handing the baseball, Doris’ suspicions are confirmed. “It’s Dottie!”

The casting was good here, too, because the actresses have similarities to what you might imagine the characters would look like in their older age. Doris has longer hair and Mae is all dolled up, Ellen Sue still has her southern accent. It seems like we’re supposed to believe that Dottie played one year in the league and then didn’t see her teammates again. I guess that could be true, but even back in the times where snail mail was the thing and transportation was tougher, you’d think she would have kept in touch somehow. But hey, that ruins the spirit of the reunion, right?

And hey, Marla is back! This is also the first time we really get confirmation that Dottie’s husband, Bob, has passed away, in her conversation with Marla. But I realized some of the other clues from the beginning of the movie make sense for that, like Dottie spent time cooped up in a room at her daughter’s place, and her daughter said she found Dottie’s catcher’s mitt in a box of stuff, like if you’d recently packed up a house.

Baseball Hall of Fame
The reason for Dottie’s trip is the fact that the All-American Girls Professional Baseball League is being honored and entered into the Baseball Hall of Fame. As Dottie and the players look around at the photos and memorabilia, she meets an adult Stillwell who informs her that his mother died. A nice touch to have him there to represent.

Plenty of work went into memorabilia and black-and-white photographs for the exhibit and the movie in general, including a large mock-up of Jimmy Dugan in the Hall of Fame. The movie killed his character off in 1987, we find out. Oh, and let’s have a quick shoutout here for all the film cameras the ladies use to commemorate the occasion since the movie was made in 1992.

Then the original league players start singing their theme song once again. During the song, Kit shows up. It’s easy to spot Kit, because they beat us over the head with the fact that the large clan with her includes a bunch of redheads. Laughing emoji. It also begs the question here, if Kit had her entourage with her, why didn’t Dottie bring her troops?

Dottie and Kit spot each other and go in for an emotional hug as some of their teammates look on, also touched by the sweet moment. I wonder how long the gap is supposed to be between the sisters seeing each other in person. In the beginning of the movie, Dottie's daughter mentions that Kit's husband has always been very nice to Dottie, so I don't think they've gone all those decades since the World Series without a reunion.

It is interesting that Dottie was all about the family throughout the movie, and here’s Kit with her kids and grandkids. She apparently found a way to have it all, as they say.

I don’t think I had ever heard this line before I recently watched the movie again because it’s pretty quick and you might miss it. I’m actually not 100 percent sure I’m hearing it correctly. But Dottie and Kit get a photo together asking “(little?) Dottie, take a picture” of one of the redheaded grandkids. So, it looks like Kit has a granddaughter named Dottie. That’s adorable.

We’ve reached the end

The original Peaches gather together for a team photo, which is snapped and cuts to a black-and-white photo of the original players. Everyone is in the same place, too.

Fade to black, and that’s the end of this wonderful film. A little more than two hours of fantastic baseball and movie magic. We then see a dedication to the members of the A.A.G.P.B.L. before the credits roll.

Let me tell you, if you’ve never sat and watched the entire credits sequence for this movie, you’re missing out and need to go do that immediately. These are some of the best closing credits in any movie ever. Any TV channel that blocks out time for this particular movie should also make sure to let the credits are included, too. The channels that crunch them down and roll them through while promoting their other programming for this movie should be ashamed.

Come for the movie, stay for the credits
The end of a movie when the credits roll is usually a time the house lights come up and patrons exit the movie theater, or you change the channel or watch something else at home. In more recent years, things have gotten creative with blooper reels or other scenes as the credits come up. Even better, some roll a few credits before starting the bloopers, leaving people standing in the movie theater aisles or having already left the theater. And I wonder how many people never saw the guy in the cab at the end of “Airplane!” which was a throwback to the start of the film?

The credits for this movie include the song “This Used to Be My Playground” by – who else? – Madonna. First of all, great song. It was nominated for a Golden Globe Award for Best Original Song. The cast is also listed as a “Cast Roster,” a subtle baseball touch. It starts out with scenes from the movie early on, and also a few things we didn’t see, like Dottie and Kit playing catch back on the farm in Oregon (maybe from the deleted-scenes bin?). That’s mixed up a bit with some black-and-white photos from movie scenes.

A little later, we see a ball game being played with the older members of the AAGPBL in the present day. I’m not sure how many are actual players and how many are actresses in these scenes; my guess is anyone with a speaking line was an actress. The song plays out with the baseball scenes, and we’re treated to the ladies showing off their passion for baseball.

The final scene before the rest of the credits run across a black screen is a gal taking exception to a strike call at the plate. Taller than the umpire, she throws down her bat and commences an argument with blue, getting up close and personal telling him the ball was “clear inside.” He eventually responds with “yesterday it might have been a ball, tomorrow it might be a ball, but today it was a strike!” Then the rest of the credits roll over the typical black screen.

There you go. My long-winded summary and commentary on one of the greatest sports movies of all time, “A League of Their Own.” Thanks for reading along, and feel free to let me know in the comments or on social media some of your thoughts on the movie.

And remember, there’s no crying in baseball. Well, most of the time.

A League of Their Own commentary, part 1: 'Mule!' 'Nag!'
A League of Their Own commentary, part 2: 'So we can make a buck...'
A League of Their Own commentary, part 3: 'Go where things happen'
A League of Their Own commentary, part 4: 'OK, some of them are goin' home'
A League of Their Own commentary, part 5: 'Still a fall-down drunk?'
A League of Their Own commentary, part 6: 'What a hitter'
A League of Their Own commentary, part 7: 'It had to be you'
A League of Their Own commentary, part 8: 'There's no crying in baseball!'

A League of Their Own commentary, part 9: 'You play like you love it'
A League of Their Own commentary, part 10: 'If you're here, then I'm not here'
A League of Their Own commentary, part 11: 'It's supposed to be hard'
A League of Their Own commentary, part 12: 'I'm no quitter'
A League of Their Own commentary, part 13: 'Kit! Kit! Kit!'

Wednesday, May 13, 2020

A League of Their Own commentary, part 13: ‘Kit! Kit! Kit!’

The Peaches hold a 2-1 lead in the bottom of the 9th in Game 7 of the World Series. Kit is absolutely losing it in Racine’s dugout. She’s just distraught. Her catcher tells her to shake it off, because one run and they are “back in this ball game.” Again, does she think this is the middle innings? How is she not feeling any pressure at all? They’re three outs away from losing after the big letdown of being three outs away from winning. This amount of positivity and lack of awareness seems odd to me.

Dottie goes to her spot behind the plate but not before glancing at an upset Kit in the dugout. That had to get into Dottie’s head, right?

It’s a flyout for out No. 1. Then Dottie sacrifices her body once again to catch a foul ball in the Rockford dugout for the second out. There is a runner on base. And who’s up? If you guessed Kit having never seen the movie, you’d be right and are super smart. What’s strange about this though is that she’s still been in the dugout this whole time. She wasn’t on deck taking cuts. She’s holding up the game, stands up and grabs a random bat before heading to the plate. The sisters stare each other down at the plate before Dottie asks for timeout and goes out to the mound to talk to her pitcher.

‘Can’t lay off ‘em’
Dottie, who has claimed all along to not care about baseball that much, has ice in her veins as she tells Ellen Sue how to handle Kit as a hitter: “High fastballs. She can’t hit ‘em, can’t lay off ‘em.” Yes, we’re circling back to the beginning of the movie with the pitch Kit can’t hit. It’s interesting that that scouting report never came up with the Peaches before, but that’s right, this is really the first time we’re seeing Dottie and Kit as opponents anyway.

Let me say that I love Doris at third base during Kit’s at-bat here. She’s chattering it up to encourage Ellen Sue the entire time, to a point where’s it’s not so much annoying but comical. When Ellen Sue gets Kit to, predictably, swing and miss at a couple of high heaters, Doris about loses her shit in the best way. “One more!” she screams. “One more!” she turns and screams another direction. Doris also tells Ellen Sue a pitch “looked good” to her when it was so low it kicked up a dirt cloud. I mean, hilarious, right?

Down to the last strike, Kit glances down at Dottie, realizing she’s been set up to fail with that high-fastball pitch. Here’s the delivery and… Kit finally gets ahold of one up in the zone. Yes, she hits one of those elusive high fastballs. As Kit takes off for first base, Dottie stands up and throws her masks off with a shocked and nervous look on her face. She no doubt doesn’t know what to do as that ball carries deep into the outfield.

Play at the plate
The tying run comes across for a 2-2 game. It looks like Kit will check in at third with an RBI triple. Nope. She runs through the stop sign. We see her headed for home in slo-mo with the music charging as hard as she is at the moment. She is determined to beat her big sister here.

The ball is relayed in to Dottie at the plate, who braces for the collision with Kit, one we see in slow motion from different angles (If you look closely, you can also tell these are stunt doubles taking the tumble to the ground, not the actresses.). It all ends with a shot of Dottie’s arm hitting the ground and her fingers letting go of the baseball in their grips. An emphatic “safe!” call from the umpire confirms the inside-the-park, game-winning, series-clinching 3-2 Racine victory.

PA screams Dottie’s error into the microphone: “Hinson dropped the ball! Hinson dropped the ball!” Seriously, how did she drop the ball? Just, how? No, I don’t think she did it on purpose so her sister could win. All thoughts are out the window at that point, and besides, if she wanted her sister to win, there’s no way she goes to the mound for those high-fastball instructions. Dugan is clearly stunned Dottie dropped the ball, and the rest of the Peaches share the feeling.

Meanwhile, Racine players storm the field in celebration to the cheers of a jubilant crowd at the ballpark around them. The players lift Kit up onto their shoulders in triumph as the crowd later breaks into a “Kit! Kit! Kit!” cheer. She’s clearly the player of the game, even though this is decades before #TechnologyAndStuff (anyone know this reference?). There’s a great shot here, too, of Dottie and Dugan standing next to each other at the top of the dugout, looking on at Kit in the spotlight. Dottie appears to beam with sisterly pride in the moment.

The Racine players also make a fairly quick exit to the locker room, although there’s no evidence of a champagne-filled celebration. Then again, I suppose they weren’t allowed thanks to that lovely “no booze” rule. Different era.

It’s a sad state of affairs in the Peaches locker room as the players finish getting dressed and comment about their season ending. Alice isn’t looking forward to months in Saskatchewan, which really sucks unless “you like ice fishing.” I feel ya, Alice. Doris, leaving us once again with a fat-girl zinger, exits the room saying she’s so depressed she could eat a cow. Mae is the one to comfort Dottie here, telling her it’s alright. It’s a nice moment.

Sisterly bond is intact
Out in the hallway, Kit is signing autographs for a couple of young girls. And boy, Kit looks all cleaned up. I mean, she’s in her uniform and obviously hadn’t been in the locker room to change yet. So then why does her hair look like she just finished blow drying it and there’s really not any dirt on her? You can’t even tell she bulldozed her sister at the plate minutes earlier.

Kit and Dottie get another sisterly moment here, except this one is much more emotionally touching than their last verbal spat. Kit tries to half-heartedly apologize for the collision, to which Dottie ignores in a competitive manner. She acknowledges that Kit wanted it more than her, which is pretty true considering Dottie spent the entire movie downplaying her abilities. Kit plans to stick around the Midwest, and it seems she’s finally found a place for herself. Meaning, not in her sister’s shadow.

Meanwhile, Dottie announces her plans to leave the league and raise a family with Bob back home.

The tone of the conversation here is pretty full-circle, as movies should be. Kit couldn’t get rid of Dottie this whole time, and now she’s begging her older sister to stay and play baseball. She starts to cry and even recognizes the irony herself: “Just when I want you to stay, you’re leaving.” The moment ends with a hug, which makes me smile a little as we see Kit’s death grip clutching Dottie’s back during the embrace.

Look how far Jimmy has come
Outside the ballpark, Jimmy finally meets Bob, and it’s kind of an awkward moment. Bob tells Jimmy, a former major leaguer, that he’s a big fan of his. Makes sense. Then Jimmy, realizing who this guy is (Dottie’s husband) responds with “Then I’m a big fan of yours.” I mean, what? What does that even mean, Jimmy? No wonder there was some awkward laughter between the three of them after that comment.

And here’s Dugan’s full-circle moment. Remember that drunk who slept through the entire first game for the Peaches? Well now he turned down a managing job for a triple-A team in order to keep managing Rockford.

The team buses are about to depart from the stadium. We also see Doris’ dad, who we meet briefly earlier as he buys a ticket from a scalper before Game 7. For 10 bucks. You’d think Doris could’ve gotten her pops a ticket, but he wanted to surprise her and then take her out to a steak dinner.

As Kit and Dottie board their respective buses, Dottie once again tells Kit to “lay off the high ones.” And Kit, who can mean it with a smile this time, replies “I like the high ones.” Then it’s their traditional “mule!” “nag!” exchange before Dottie watches the Belles bus start down the road and the picture fades away back to elderly Dottie in the present day.

Tuesday, May 12, 2020

A League of Their Own commentary, part 12: ‘I’m no quitter’

Somehow, the shorthanded Peaches manage to push the World Series to a seventh game against – who else? – Kit and the Racine Belles.

Bring back the musical montage! This one has newspaper headlines telling the story of the first six games, with game clips in the background. If you look closely, you’ll see that Racine took a 2-0 series lead with 10-1 and 6-3 victories. Based on Game 7 later being played at Racine, let’s assume it has homefield advantage. Rockford wins Game 3 before the Belles take a 3-1 series lead with a 7-5 win. And then, a fact I didn’t know until I looked closely at the newspaper on this latest viewing of the movie, the Peaches took Game 5 in 17 innings. That had to be a nail-biter. Then they won the next game to force a winner-take-all Game 7.

Did anyone really think this wasn’t going seven games?

‘May our balls be plentiful’
To show just how far Dugan has come in the movie, he leads his team in a pregame prayer before Game 7. Even the Peaches are shocked at this point. But Jimmy being Jimmy, he can’t resist a little risqué prayer. “Lord, I’d just like to thank you for that waitress in South Bend. You know who she is. She kept calling your name.” I mean, really? Evelyn is all of us with the look on her face here.

It’s a little thing, but I’m a big fan of the overhead camera shot when the team puts their hands in for the “Go Peaches!” cheer before they head out to the field.

The pregame festivities are out in full force with the fanfare of a World Series. Also, can we take a minute to say how cute it is that the umpires are wearing bow ties? We’re back with the Racine PA guy, who tells the radio world that “someone will walk out of here today champions of the league, and someone else will just walk out of here.” Simply put but also memorable for me, once again.

Guess who’s back?
As Dugan goes over to pitcher Ellen Sue as she’s warming up, he has some instructions for his catcher. He yells at who he assumes is Alice to see if she acknowledges what he said. And then – surprise! It’s Dottie! She got as far as Yellowstone Park and turned back (no idea how long that drive would have taken back then, but apparently it was six games worth). Again, what a movie thing to bring back our hero. I mean, they had to. We all needed that Kit-vs-Dottie matchup. Dugan goes to change the lineup with the umpire, but was Dottie even on the roster at this point? She had already quit.

It’s interesting that she seems annoyed at Jimmy for calling her a quitter before she left. “I’m no quitter.” Ugh, ok, but you did quit right before the World Series and, as we later find out, only played one year in the league. Maybe we’re finally seeing that the game means a little more to her than we think. She also has an unnecessary but funny line as Jimmy walks away: “You look like shit. Don’t you ever shave?” Make sure you don’t watch a cable-TV version of the movie, or you won’t see any part of that gem. Or maybe just the shaving part. It inspires Jimmy to think they’re going to win, at any rate.

Before the game, Jimmy beans little Stillwell, who’s mocking him about losing, with a baseball glove. Stillwell falls down in a heap. It’s worth concussion protocol these days, but back then all mother Evelyn did was ask if he was going to stay there on the ground or come into the dugout. How sweet.

Much like Game 7 of the 1991 World Series (Minnesota Twins reference!), the game was exciting but still scoreless late into the contest. We circle back to the moment with Evelyn screwing up in the field when she makes the same mistake again to allow Racine to take a 1-0 lead in the 8th. But this time, a still-pissed-but-measured manager Dugan tells her he’d like her to work on hitting the cutoff man before next season. The way Hanks makes his hands shake combined with his facial expressions as he tries with all his willpower to not scream in her face again is hilarious. She’s grateful.

To the 9th we go
It’s the top of the ninth, and the last hope for the Peaches this season. Mae starts by beating out an infield hit, followed by a single from Doris. The musical soundtrack starts to intensify a bit here. Evelyn does something right by moving the runners over with a sacrifice bunt. Helen is the second out with an unproductive grounder to first base. That’s actress Tea Leoni as the Racine first baseman who stares Mae back to her bag at third. I don’t think I recognized Leoni the first few times I watched this movie.

Who comes up to the plate with two outs, two on and needing a run? Why, Dottie Hinson, of course! Here’s the first of a couple odd lines from the Racine catcher, the one who commented earlier that she couldn’t do the splits. She says “Let’s get out of this inning!” as a means to pump up her teammates. Um, actually, you win the World Series if you “get out of this.” What to downplay it. This isn’t the third inning or something. I’m sure it’s just a heat-of-the-moment thing.

Dottie delivers, smacking a line drive right over the mound, nearly decapitating Kit, who hits the dirt. The music, which is so well done in these scenes here especially, speeds up and intensifies once again as both Mae and Doris come around to score and put the Peaches up 2-1 on the RBI single.

Monday, May 11, 2020

A League of Their Own commentary, part 11: ‘It’s supposed to be hard’

In a visiting locker room before what’s assumed to be a playoff game against South Bend, the team is getting ready and singing the song that Evelyn wrote about them. “Batter up! Hear that call! The time has come for one and all… to play ball.”

Dugan comes in all chipper-like and tells them he gets a bonus if they make the World Series and then reminds them to use their heads. “That’s the lump three feet above our ass, right Jimmy?” quips Doris. Laughter and chatter ensue before being abruptly halted when a guy with a telegram enters the room. Not really sure how he got down there and then walks right in to a ladies locker room, but whatever.

Again showing a sign of the times, he’s there with a telegram from the war department. We know from a comment earlier in the movie that this means one of the ladies’ husbands was killed in action. Silence. And I get this was probably also done for the movie for effect, but the guy then looks over his checklist and mutters to himself about how they should send someone personally to “tell someone your husband’s dead.” It’s a very tacky remark when everyone in the room can clearly hear him. It was more for the benefit of the audience, I guess, to remind them of the significance of the moment.

For some reason, he can’t find a name on his little list and is about to leave to get it figured out, leaving the married women in the room to apparently go play a baseball playoff game wondering if their husband is dead or alive. Luckily, Dugan steps in as the fierce protector of these women he respects and cares about. He politely asks for the telegram and then ends up throwing the dude in between the wall and doorframe, ripping the telegram out of his hands before tossing him out.

Dugan slowly walks down the line. We know for sure that Betty and Dottie are both married with husbands at war, and the ladies are right next to each other. Because nothing awful can happen to the movie’s leading lady, it’s Betty’s husband, George, who is deceased. In a sad scene, her teammates and Jimmy comfort her before taking her out of the room.

But, they still have a baseball game to play.

Off to the Series
Later that night, Dottie is sobbing uncontrollably in her room, obviously affected by the earlier scene and knowing it could have been her instead of Betty. So in movie fashion, in walks Dottie’s husband Bob, back from overseas with a foot injury. He’s been discharged. Oh, the reunion!

When it comes to baseball, I guess the playoff format really didn’t matter for our purposes, because we saw nothing of that earlier game they played. Apparently, they won and are now going to the World Series. We only know that because the next morning, Jimmy is waiting for his team to board the bus and sarcastically yells “Let’s not go to the World Series without Stillwell’s toys!”

Obviously, the team we’ve followed the entire movie is going to end up in the championship game, but it’s interesting to me that the Xs and Os of how they got there didn’t seem important to show. Or maybe that’s just my quarantine brain really wanting some baseball right now.

As they board the bus, a couple boys walk by and asks for Jimmy’s autograph. He scribbles it on a baseball and the boy reads it aloud: “’Avoid the clap, Jimmy Dugan.’ Wow!” Dugan is dead serious when he calls after them: “That’s good advice!”

Dottie maintains that it’s ‘only a game’

Meanwhile, Dottie is preparing to drive back to Oregon with the hubby. Teammate Helen, acting pretty casual about it, tells her to write and they’ll miss her. Her comment tips Jimmy out to the fact that Dottie is leaving. Wait, what? So many questions. Can she just up and quit like that? And why didn’t she tell Jimmy? Was she really just going to duck out like that?

Jimmy goes over to talk to her packing up the car and mentions her “sneaking out.” That’s definitely what it feels like she’s doing. But at the same time, we know her attitude toward baseball is pretty casual, and she wants to seize every moment she can with Bob now that he’s back safe and sound. From an emotional standpoint it’s easy to see why she wants to get back to her life with her husband.

Dottie tells Jimmy baseball is “only a game” that she doesn’t need because she has Bob. Pause a moment for the fact that she thinks she has to choose. Ah yes, the saga of women choosing between home and work. It’s still around all these decades later, in some ways. She adds that it got too hard, though I’m not sure what she means by that. Her fighting with Kit? Being away from home on the farm? She has no trouble playing the game itself, of course.

Here’s this quotable movie coming through again
In his response, Jimmy has one of his most memorable lines of the movie for me: “It’s supposed to be hard. If it wasn’t hard, everyone would do it. The hard is what makes it great.”

I know he’s known for the famous “There’s no crying in baseball line” earlier, but this one really strikes me, too. It’s just so profound and can be applied to so many things in life. I like it.

After Jimmy storms off at the end of their conversation, Bob comes over to Dottie and asks if everything’s OK. Oh, sure, Bob. Everything’s just peachy. Your wife is the best player in her baseball league and she’s abandoning her team right before the World Series when they’re already a few players short. Enjoy that drive home.

Speaking of being short players, let’s do a quick roster check. By my count, the Peaches are down four players. Three for sure. First, Marla got married and made it known she wasn’t returning this season. Then Kit was traded away and we never heard what the Peaches got in return (obviously the most important part was that Kit was dealt), so I guess we could assume there was an even exchange. Betty is no doubt at home in mourning and planning a funeral for George. Now Dottie leaves them high and dry.

Losing Marla, Betty, Kit and Dottie are four big pieces to this Peaches team we’ve watched throughout the movie. How will the rest of the squad stack up in the World Series?

A League of Their Own commentary, part 9: 'You play like you love it'
A League of Their Own commentary, part 10: 'If you're here, then I'm not here'

Sunday, May 10, 2020

A League of Their Own commentary, part 10: ‘If you’re here, then I’m not here’

We’re obviously near the end of the season here, whenever that is, because the next game would get the Peaches into the playoffs. I’m not really sure what the playoff format is though, since there are only four teams. They have playoffs and then a world series. I mean, fine, but they acted like it was a big deal to make the playoffs. Why wouldn’t all four teams make it?

Anyway.

Kit is out there struggling on the mound in the 9th inning of this latest game. This is an era that I assume was similar to how men’s baseball used to be, too, where pitchers tossed complete games all the time. That’s just how it was. A very-tired Kit tells Dugan during the mound visit here that she’s never been taken out before, in fact. But Dottie is loyal to the team and not her sister (as it should be) when she convinces Jimmy (“she’s throwing grapefruits up there”) to pull Kit in favor of Betty. Kit is still pissed, of course.

Conflicts abound
Meanwhile, old man Harvey is in attendance with Lowenstein. Harvey is pleased with the full stands but quickly says they won’t need girls’ baseball anymore. They’re winning the war, so watching girls play baseball won’t be needed because the fellas will return next season. It’s a historical point here, to show how women stepped up to go to work during the war, but then men will expect them back in the kitchen again. Even as a kid watching this movie, it was an easy point to understand about this era. Just such different times from now when women working is no big deal.

Whether this is just for the movie or not, I love the way Ira fights for the league here. He got it started and there’s a sense of pride to keep this thing going. He’s not just a business guy like the owners. Respect, Ira.

Once the Peaches successfully finish the game to make those playoffs, Doris decides to rib Kit for getting taken out of the game. It escalates with water throwing and a physical tussle on the field. I had to laugh at the exchange between Dottie and Mae as the players gather around to try and break them up. Mae asks for Dottie’s help, yelling at her to get her sister off Doris. Dottie tells Mae to stay out of it, to which Mae responds “you stay out of it” and shoves her back. I mean, not the best entry in the comeback department, Mae, when you just asked her to help. Heat of the moment, I guess.

The fight seems kind of random to me. Kit and Doris really didn’t have any reason to go after each other. Doris also acts like a complete child throughout this scene. Kit gets picked up by Jimmy and dropped into a running shower to “cool off.” But I think it’s a vehicle to set the table for the verbal fight we’re about to see with Dottie and Kit. A volcano that’s probably been brewing for months or even years between the sisters.

Dottie holds her back; the fighting isn’t over
Kit is still pissed at Dottie for not backing her up on the mound, even though Dottie points out that Stillwell could have hit off her by that point in the game. Then Kit lets her have it by saying Dottie holds her back. Dottie is stunned. “It’s like at home. It’s like if you’re here, then I’m not here,” Kit says. Dottie wants her to clarify, but Kit, getting upset, is exasperated and simply asks her sister why she has to be so good.

A little later, Lowenstein walks right into the locker room where Dottie is all alone. She promptly tells him she’s quitting the team and starts packing up her locker. Lowenstein tells her this really isn’t a good time because he has to “pull something off” for the league. He convinces her to stay if he works out some kind of trade.

Obviously, the fight between Dottie and Kit drives the story here, but I wonder what Lowenstein’s original motivation was coming in there? We know he had that talk with Harvey, but the league was doing well already and was going to finish out the season. What did he think he was going to do by talking to Dottie? But it’s kind of a moot point, and once again, it’s a movie.

Then we see the house where the Peaches all live together. First off, I love Alice’s Canadian accent as she’s asking her friends for any “extra (panty)hose.” In case you don’t recall from the many references in the movie, her character is from Saskatchewan. Mae’s also headed out for a date, because she clearly doesn’t care at all about the rules. It’s subtle, but I’m pretty sure she also steals Helen’s “new red hat” to go with a dress that’s too tight and she doesn’t plan on wearing long.

Downstairs, Kit storms in the front door and promptly hurls a baseball in Dottie’s direction of the living room (or maybe it’s a parlor?) and breaks a window. Kit calls her a bitch; Kit’s been traded to Racine. Kit blames Dottie, of course, thinking this was a scheme to get rid of her little sister. They have a very public sisterly fight in front of the team as their volcano explodes and as Kit goes to pack up her stuff so she can make her 8 p.m. train. They don’t leave things in a good place. Dottie tells her she didn’t even want to be here, which is true. Remember that Kit had to convince her to leave her happy home life in Oregon. Dottie gets snarky before she leaves, which I think is a bit justified for Kit here, telling Kit she knows who to blame if she has any trouble packing.

Kit tells Dottie she’ll see her in the World Series. In case you didn’t know where the plot would end up.

A League of Their Own commentary, part 9: 'You play like you love it'

Saturday, May 9, 2020

A League of Their Own commentary, part 9: ‘You play like you love it’

With Dottie behind the plate during the game, she happens to look over at the very bored Life Magazine reporter and photographer. Conveniently, Dottie has a chance to wow them with a foul-ball catch. It’s an easy pop-up for her, but at the last second, she decides to drop down into the splits to catch it.

The photographer captures the image perfectly for something that was supposed to be routine, because of course he does. I thought I read in some article within the past couple years that it wasn’t a stunt double doing the splits either; it was actually Geena Davis. However, Davis wasn’t able to get up from the splits on camera. Editing!

The reactions on this were great, too. PA man shouts into the mic “Uncle Elmore’s socks! What did she do?!” Then the opposing catcher in the Racine dugout leans over to her manager and says “I can’t do that.” He exclaims back “Who can?!”

Back in the Rockford dugout, Dugan demands to know what the hell it was that Dottie just did. She thinks it could help the league, plain and simple. He walks away, calling this a “goddamn circus.” But again, he’s still sober here. So there’s that.

Montage time to show the league getting popular
Next up, we get a musical montage interspersed with short clips of scenes at the ballpark – including that Life cover with Dottie down in the splits – taking us quickly through most of the season. Plenty of things to take in here. One thing that stands out throughout the movie is a lot of service uniforms in the stands of these games. When the stands are still sparse, Dugan remarks to his players that “dozens of people” are waiting for the game to start. In another sexist moment, one of the in-game promotions (long before the awful Kiss Cam and proposals) had fans get a kiss from a player if they catch a foul ball. OK, moving on.

Dugan still doesn’t know his players though. He calls Beverly “tall girl” and has to ask for her name twice. The montage also included a bunch of newspaper clippings running across the screen, too, which is a nice touch, even if they’re fictional for the movie. Dugan also offers Dottie some good ol’ tobacco in the dugout, telling her a lot of ballplayers use it. While it’s nice that he considers her a ballplayer, I’m not a fan of the tobacco part. Doris also catches a foul ball by diving into the stands, and she comes back up with a hot dog in her mouth. Chalk one up for the “fat girl” narrative again.

In a bit of foreshadowing, Dottie makes a play at the plate against Racine, holding onto the baseball as a runner plows into her. But Dottie got the out. Hang onto that for later. Dottie and Kit also bicker out on the mound during another game during the montage. A dynamic we figured was a possibility but didn’t see until then.

Marla and Nelson are definitely a thing
As for Marla, she has quite an eventful montage. Remember Nelson, the fella she was drunkenly singing to in the bar? Well, she checks the mail and receives a letter from him. It’s probably like getting a text in our time, right? Hey, I remember letters, don’t get me wrong. A few clips later, and we see Marla and Nelson walking out of a church as newlyweds. Her teammates stand on the church steps as bridesmaids, holding up baseball bats on each side to make an arch for the couple. Then they all throw baseballs, not rice, at their “just married” car as they drive away.

We don’t know what point this is during the season or even how long the season lasts, but first of all, that had to be a quick courtship and engagement to head to the alter that fast. Before departing, Marla says (for the audience’s benefit) that she’ll be back next season. So, we’re down a Peach. Remember that for later.

Riding the bus

Back to regular movie scenes, we land on the team bus at night once again. Dottie and Jimmy are talking about her husband, Bob, played by Bill Pullman, as we can see from the photo she provides. Pullman, Rosie O’Donnell and Tom Hanks were all in “Sleepless in Seattle” together. Fun fact.

Dottie says she’ll leave the league when Bob comes back from serving his country in the war. This is really the first indication we have that she can just give up so easily, even though she’s tried to play it casual throughout the movie that baseball is just a game. Dugan reads our minds, telling her “you play like you love it.” She disagrees and then he has to inform her that she’s the best player in the league. She’s too modest to acknowledge it.

As Jimmy reaches for his flask, Dottie swaps it out for a glass Coke bottle. So, I guess he hasn’t quit drinking entirely. He just seems to have it more under control now. Or something.

Friday, May 8, 2020

A League of Their Own commentary, part 8: ‘There’s no crying in baseball!’

On the bus at night, we check in with a few players. Mae is teaching the illiterate Shirley how to read, and she’s not doing it with a Dr. Seuss book. Evelyn writes a song with her ukulele about her teammates. Doris, Betty and Kit look through photos and find one of Doris’ boyfriend who’s stupid, out of work and treats her bad. So, why does she waste her time with such a waste of time?

“Why do you think? Because, you know, none of the other boys, you know… always made me feel like I was wrong, you know?”

It’s a moment where we can see how tough it was, and in some cases still is, for women to play sports (or even work in sports) and be considered on equal playing ground with men. Doris was made to feel weird, strange or not even a woman at all simply because she could play baseball. Her presence and the existence of the league seems to have inspired her though.

“There’s a lot of us. I think we’re all alright.”

The revelation is enough for her to tear up the photograph of her boyfriend and toss it out the window of the moving bus. So long, Charlie. And hey, how about another girl-power moment right here? Very nice to see.

The scene we’ve all been waiting for
Back for a game against South Bend at Rockford’s home field, Dugan appears to be engaged as a manager for the first time. South Bend has just taken a 6-5 lead in the game. And yes, this is the most famous scene in the movie.

After the half-inning is over, Dugan calls over outfielder Evelyn and asks her (clearly a set-up) which team she plays for. Confused as to where this is going, she responds that she’s a Peach. Dugan goes into a rant about her throwing home with a two-run lead. Her missing the cutoff man let the tying run get on second. Just to add a little more humiliating salt, he yelled that they lost the lead because of her. He tells her to start using her head, the lump that’s three feet above her ass.

He’s done with the convo and walks away, but a humiliated Evelyn starts crying right there in front of the dugout. Dugan is shocked at her behavior. “Are you crying? … There’s no crying! There’s no crying in baseball!”

"Did I cry? No!"

Ignoring Doris’s pleas to leave Evelyn alone, Dugan goes in for some more yelling and a personal story about when he was humiliated on the ball field and did not cry. His facial expression is pure gold when he mockingly says “No! No!” in Evelyn’s face in a response to the question of whether he cried in that moment.

While this is one of the most known scenes in the movie, it’s funny because it also shows some of the evolution of his character. He went from a drunk who didn’t even stay awake during early-season games to caring so much about the team and game outcomes that he has no problem dressing down a player publicly when she makes a mistake. I think it also shows, in a weird way, that he’s starting to respect the women as ballplayers. He’s treating them just like he would men. He’d yell at a guy who missed the cutoff man, right?

When the umpire comes over to see what all the commotion is about, Dugan seems to relent at first. Then in a low voice, he calls the umpire a penis with a hat on. That comment is enough to get Dugan thrown out of the game. He gets his money's worth as his own players applaud the action, seemingly grateful that someone finally put Dugan in his place.

League isn’t doing well
The next ball game at Racine’s home field shows us all how much the league is hurting when it comes to drawing fans, at least in the movie script. The PA announcer here is played by David Lander who has ties to director Penny Marshall. Lander played Squiggy in the “Laverne and Shirley” comedy, starring Marshall as Laverne.

Anyway, the man behind the microphone informs his radio audience that the crowd is a little light on this day “with the tractor show in town.” He encourages folks in the area (which they must be, because the radio signal isn’t very strong, he notes) to “come on down to the ballpark. Bring the kiddies why dontchya.” I love this line of his and my Twitter followers probably recognize this clip from my timeline during baseball season; I’ve used it to announce the Target Field attendance.

The players are taking note of the thin crowds as well. Ellen Sue bluntly blurts out to her teammates before the game: “people better start showing up. We don’t have fans; we don’t have a league.”

Reading her mind, Lowenstein arrives at the Peaches’ dugout to tell Dottie that he’s trying to get the Life Magazine journalists at the park on this day to do a feature on her as “the queen of diamonds.” Dottie, ever modest about just how good she actually is as a ballplayer, wants to know why she’s being singled out. Kit, a little too eager in craving attention at this moment, asks if Lowenstein told the reporter about her. A dense Lowenstein says he told him the league didn’t even want Kit at first, but Dottie “wouldn’t come without her kid sister. … A real human-interest story.” Way to embarrass her in front of her entire team there, buddy. As if Kit doesn’t have enough self-esteem problems already.

He then confirms that the league isn’t doing well and that the owners are thinking of shutting it down. Having not looked up the history of the league here, this feels like it could be legitimate. Or it also screams “movie plot!” I mean, having poor attendance only to have the ballplayers shine on the field in order to help boost attendance for packed stands at the end of the season does have a nice montage feel to it, as we’ll get to later. But it also wouldn’t be surprising if it happened in a pretty similar fashion either. As we’ve seen, women’s sports take time to grow.

Thursday, May 7, 2020

A League of Their Own commentary, part 7: ‘It had to be you’

We move from the old woman throwing up to the lively scene at the Suds Bucket roadhouse where the gals engage in some upbeat dancing with a live band. Mae, played by Madonna, of course, has the moves. Beer is involved as well, and it’s clear that the men at the bar are enjoying the good time, too. It’s a bunch of good, clean fun, yet the league had a ban on all this stuff. Boo! A girl’s gotta let loose once in a while.

We’ve also assumed Doris and Mae came into the league as pals from before, and with a line so quick you might miss it, Doris says they met at her father’s dance hall in upstate New York. “She was a dancer; I was a bouncer.”

Dottie later shows up in a car outside with a young fella driving who looks like he’s 13 years old or something. He’s clearly a teenager and promptly hits on the much-older-than-him Dottie. Gross. She offers to smack him around to try to shut it down, but that just seems to turn him on further.

Let’s ‘haul buns’
She goes inside to warn her teammates that Lowenstein is on his way to bust them in all their dancing, beer-drinking, make-out fun. They’re out of the league if they’re caught, apparently. While they rush out with Doris telling them to “make like a bread truck and haul buns,” Dottie does a quick count and inquires as to Marla’s whereabouts.

They nervously point to an intoxicated Marla singing “It Had to Be You” on stage with the band. Doris innocently says they just gave her a dress before Mae finishes with a laughing “and a lotta liquor.” Dottie promises to get Marla off the stage, but not before we see a few more seconds of the intoxicated Marla’s devoted singing to a fellow named Nelson who can’t stop staring at her. The gentleman even offers to take her home. We get a little more singing from Marla before the scene brilliantly ends with an older band member putting his hand over his face in dismay at the pathetic performance at the microphone.

There are a couple of Catholic church scenes in the movie, and this one must be right after the Suds Bucket adventure because Mae confesses everything, causing the priest to drop his bible twice.

Jump to Dugan hitting at the field alone with a pitching machine. He gives himself a pep talk aloud, sarcastically telling himself not to drink. “Why would I wanna drink? I’m a goddamn peach.” Then he hits a groundball only good enough for a double-play ball, and he claims he’s hitting like a girl. He’s not drunk though, or at least not he has been in the rest of the movie so far. Maybe that tide is turning.

Dottie, the woman in charge
Time for a new ball game. Mae legs out a triple against Racine, diving head-first into the bag. Dugan, who appears more alert but is still disengaged by reading a newspaper in the dugout, utters in a surprised tone “triple” before spitting out some more chew. Yummy.

Dottie, ever the leader, is managing the team and issuing baseball signs to the Peaches hitters. Dugan looks up from his paper long enough to see the sign Dottie gives Marla at the plate. In his true blunt fashion, he blurts out toward Dottie “Hey, what are you stupid?” Doris has her back though, saying that somebody has to run the team, “you know, someone who actually watches the games.” Dugan is just incredulous that Dottie is calling for a squeeze bunt with their best hitter. (How does he know who their best hitter is?)

He gets up from the bench and snaps at Ellen Sue to ask for a sign while also making it clear for the first of multiple times in the movie that he hasn’t bothered to learn anyone’s names. He simply calls her “blonde girl.” Dottie insists the squeeze play will work, but Dugan dismisses her with a dismissive and always classy “stop thinking with your tits, you want a big inning here.” Then he and Dottie get into a sign-off as a confused Marla dances in and out of the batter’s box.

Ultimately, Dugan prevails. “Who is the goddamn manager here? I am” Dottie is not slow on the uptake: “Then act like it, you big lush!”

When Marla swings away to drive in the run, Dugan cheers with a boisterous “Way to go, whatever your name is!” Dottie acts like a lady and tips her cap, but Dugan doesn’t want his players to think he’s come around fully just yet.

“But I still say, you’re not ball players.”

Wednesday, May 6, 2020

A League of Their Own commentary, part 6: ‘What a hitter’

Dugan still looks like crap by game’s end, and he washes his face in the dugout drinking fountain. Two innocent lads come over toward the dugout begging for an autograph, but Lowenstein has to fend them off. Poor kids just wanted to see their baseball hero.

Lowenstein looks less than pleased about the status of one of the league’s managers.

“Nice piece of coaching, Jimmy. I especially like that move in the fifth inning when you scratched your balls for an hour.”

Dugan is completely serious defending his behavior: “Anything worth doing is worth doing right.”

It was actually a good move, because until that happened, Lowenstein couldn’t tell if Dugan was “drunk or dead.” Dugan then makes it clear he’s there for the bare minimum and a paycheck. He clearly has no interest in being sober during the day, let alone managing a team of female baseball players. Lowenstein tries to prod Dugan to offer some expertise to these women, but Dugan finally shows some fire and cuts him off mid-sentence.

“I haven’t got ball players, I’ve got girls! Girls are what you sleep with after the game, not what you coach during the game!”

Cool, so Dugan is also a womanizer along with the drinking binges. Classy fella.

Lowenstein walks off with a sarcastic offer to pay Dugan more if he’ll be a little more disgusting. Dugan, though, is again completely serious, saying he could use the money.

Diamond Gals, team introductions
We get another transition to a black-and-white feature here, a Moviescope News piece on the Diamond Gals, ie, the Rockford Peaches, complete with narration. This montage video is another great and efficient way to introduce the audience to the players on the team. I really like that although there are some players featured more than others throughout the film – Dottie, Kit, Marla, Doris, Mae – it doesn’t mean that the rest of the team is invisible, which happens a lot in sports movies. We know Betty “Spaghetti” Horn, Alice and her superstitions and the beauty queen Ellen Sue. It’s a nice touch.

Oh, and the best part of this intro video? The way the camera captures a faraway shot as Marla waves from the infield. “What a hitter.” Seriously, it’s subtle, but it’s the best.

Back to another ball game, outfielder Evelyn (who also has her ball cap cemented on her head) introduces herself to a still-hungover Dugan following the game. She very awkwardly asks for permission to bring her young son on road trips. See, her husband isn’t over fighting the war, he’s instead portrayed as a deadbeat sitting at home reading the want ads. Dugan doesn’t utter a word in response to her request. He offers facial expressions and spits out some tobacco which apparently is enough to give Evelyn the answer she’s looking for.

Crazy bus ride
That gives us a quick-cut from her saying “he’s the sweetest little boy” to the little terror running up and down the bus aisle annoying everyone on board. The bus driver eventually pulls over after the lad covers the driver’s eyes. Dottie wants to know why this child, named Stillwell, is “so wild,” but we quickly get our answer when his mother bribes the chubby child with yet another chocolate bar. Evelyn tries to plead her case to Dottie that Stillwell is “a sweetie,” and Dottie replies she hopes that she has five kids just like him. Uh, no you don’t.

As some of the other players use the unscheduled stop to sneak some cigarettes outside near the back of the bus, they invite Dottie to go to a roadhouse with them that night. I’m not sure how “roadhouse” is different than a regular bar, but anyway. Dottie passes because she’s married, then asks about the plan for sneaking out past the team chaperone’s watchful eye: Mae, clearly a bold troublemaker in the group, will poison her dinner.

Meanwhile, back on the bus, manager Dugan is once again sleeping off his booze intake. He doesn’t even realize the bus is stopped until he wakes up from a very vivid dream. Before Dugan prepares to get in the driver’s seat, he drunkenly tells the smoking girls to get back on the bus. Or something like that. You really can’t understand what he says, which Doris confirms for everyone with her line “What did he say? Was that English?”

It is interesting here that Dugan takes over driving the bus. Maybe he was just taking a cat nap, but based on his behavior so far, it would be a good guess that he’s hungover. So, was it really safe for him to be driving?

At any rate, it doesn’t seem to matter much to the plot because the next scene shows a very sickly Ms. Cuthbert (the chaperone) sitting back up after getting sick for the umpteenth time that evening. Not exactly the most realistic barfing sounds, in my opinion, but oh well. The doctor in the room says he’s never seen a woman throw up that much in his 43 years or practicing medicine. Ironically, Dugan seems quite sober in this scene for about the first time in the movie.

Tuesday, May 5, 2020

A League of Their Own commentary, part 5: ‘Still a fall-down drunk?’

Next, we’ll meet the Rockford manager Jimmy Dugan, played by Tom Hanks. When he first comes on screen, we see him stumbling around a grassy estate that used to be a golf course and is now the home of baseball owner and league commissioner, Walter Harvey, played by Garry Marshall, brother of the film’s director Penny Marshall. Dugan already looks rough around the edges and hungover as Harvey gives him the managerial job with the Peaches.

These two already have a history, when Dugan managed a San Antonio baseball club and sold off the team’s equipment. Dugan assures the owner that it won’t happen again. So, Harvey wants to know where they stand: “Are you still a fall-down drunk?”

No, Dugan has quit drinking. Because he can’t afford it, he says, before breaking into a fit of laughter. Harvey is somewhat less than amused and chastises Dugan for letting his drinking take away the end of his playing career.

Dugan tries to justify his shortened career by saying he hurt his knee. Yeah, he hurt it by falling out of a hotel to escape a fire that he started. Rich-man Harvey picked up the tab on that one and, again, seems less than amused about the whole situation.

“I was gonna send you a thank-you card, Mr. Harvey, but I wasn’t allowed anything sharp to write with.”

Just tip your cap
No matter, Harvey reminds Dugan that he’s still a name to the baseball public. It’s not like Harvey is expecting miracles here. Remember, this women’s baseball deal is pretty much a placeholder so they can “make a buck” during the war. Dugan tipping his hat to the crowd before a few ball games would probably be enough to keep everybody happy.

Dugan, in another line meant to show the audience just how good of a ball player he was in his prime, comments that he hit 487 home runs for one of Harvey’s teams, including three in the World Series and “two in Game 4 alone.”

So, Dugan’s character is established right here as a drunk, has-been player being thrust into a job. What could go wrong? Could hilarity ensue? Let’s find out.

‘Great to meet ya’
Let’s play some baseball. It’s the Rockford Peaches against the South Bend Blue Sox. We see the players in the locker room before the game getting ready. Betty, played by director Penny Marshall’s daughter Tracy Reiner, can’t wait to meet their manager. She has a treasured baseball card of her husband’s that she wants Dugan to sign.

Quick wardrobe note here that bugs me throughout the movie. Betty’s hat (and she’s not the only one) looks like it’s practically vertical on of her head. I mean, how is that staying on over all of her long, thick, curly hair? It’s obviously pinned in there pretty damn good. But it doesn’t look very natural at all.

Dugan makes his grand entrance, stumbling in as the room falls silent. He staggers over to a urinal and commences his business like no one else is in the room. Mae ends up timing his body of work, and like Doris, the audience is also kept in the dark about the exact time of his “good peeing.” So classy.

He utters not a single word as he zips up, rips up the baseball card Betty hands him and heads out the door once again. Doris, who offers the quality of blunt, sarcastic one-liners like Capadino, says “Great to meet ya.” Then leader-of-the-pack Dottie makes a lineup for the team, since Dugan failed to do so.

We hear more about Dugan’s baseball credentials when the public address announcer introduces the manager as a former six-time National League home run champion. Dugan grits his teeth in a tight smile as he steps out of the dugout to wave his little hat in the air “and give the people a thrill.” The scattered fans in the stands cheer for the former major-leaguer and they can’t hear Dugan’s under-his-breath remarks, telling the fans to kiss his ass.

Play ball!
The Peaches run out onto the field to take their places for introductions. Unfortunately, they’re met with boos, laughs and mocking fans. I don’t really get this. I mean, maybe it’s just for the movie again, but why did these fans even show up if they weren’t interested in seeing women play baseball? Just to point and laugh at them? Doesn’t make a lot of sense to me. Or maybe they hate those stupid uniforms.

As the players take the field, we hear one of them utter the league’s catchphrase “dirt in the skirt!” An interesting way to embrace those skimpy uniforms that they all judged with so much disdain earlier. But hey, I guess it’s better than playing in a bathing suit. As Dugan sits back on the dugout bench with a towel behind his head as a makeshift pillow to sleep it off, pitcher Ellen Sue beans one of the heckling fans who climbed on top of the dugout and mocked the players. Yeah, take a set, buddy.

The screen wipes clean to a later part in the ballgame with the Peaches up to bat and a 3-0 count for Dottie. Does Dugan give her the green light, the announcer wonders into the microphone? Well, if the sign for the green light on that pitch is scratching your crotch, then apparently Dugan did give her the green light.

Dottie, being the pro that she is, swings away for a game-winning, 3-run homer and the 5-2 win over South Bend. She “hit the cream cheese outta that one” to give her team its first victory in game No. 1. That’s the second walk-off hit we’ve seen from Dottie in this movie. Reminder if you missed it so far: She’s very good. The announcer, who from his seat up-top behind the plate clearly doesn’t have a visual of Dugan at all, gives undue credit to the manager for having Dottie swing at the pitch. He called the guy a “master strategist,” for crying out loud.

To this point, Dugan isn’t a “master” of anything, except maybe a whiskey bottle.