The Rookie commentary, part 14: ‘Morris, you’re in’

It’s a 5-1 Devil Rays deficit when the ‘pen’s phone jingles again. This time when the coach hangs up, he tells Jimmy to start warming up.

Hunter, of course, notices right away from his seat in the upper deck. Jimmy stretches out his arm while the trio of “old guys” from Jimmy’s town peep at him through a pair of binoculars. Jimmy’s mom is in the stands, too. Back on the field, the Rangers bust the game wide-open with a couple of more runs thanks to a Rays error. So, the Devil Rays are in clean-up mode here. Not exactly a pressure-cooker situation for the bullpen.

The trainer heads to the mound, and the ‘pen phone rings once again.

“Morris, you’re in.”

His MLB debut

Jimmy jogs down the stairs to get from the bullpen to the field. While he makes his way, we see his loved ones in the stands – family, friends, Owls players – looking at the bullpen door with great anticipation that turns to cheers once they see that door open up and Jimmy jogging from the outfield toward the pitcher’s mound. We also get a nice close-up shot of him running in.

The audio feed cuts to a TV announcer giving baseball fans an idea of Jimmy’s story: “Just three months ago, he was grading chemistry tests.” True, and he also coached his high school players to a district championship.

Once he finally gets to the mound, the manager asks about that fastball Jimmy was telling him about before the game. “Well, I need three of them.”

With two outs late in the game, the PA announcer mentioned Jim Morris making his Major League debut. There’s a quick shot of the press box here, where each writer is sitting with his own TV set on the desk, all illuminated with a large, green desk lamp.

There’s that fastball again
Jimmy is on the mound, doing his usual preparation. He moves his foot back and forth, digging in. Holding the baseball down at his side, he gives it a subtle shake in his hand. The right-handed hitter falls behind 0-1 with a hack on a 98-mph fastball. The Owls in the stands are ecstatic.

Jimmy burns in another fastball, this time a looking strike, for an 0-2 count. More cheers from his fan club. Remember, this is a home game for Texas and Jimmy plays for Tampa Bay. It’s not like the entire stadium is behind Jimmy here.

For the third pitch, we’re treated to a camera pan up from the bottom of the mound to Jimmy’s sweating face. That same concentration we’ve seen throughout the movie is there. The sound drops out for a moment, and the next pitch is delivered in slow motion.

Fastball. Swing. Miss. Strike three. Jimmy Morris strikes out the first batter he faces in the Major Leagues on three pitches. Perfect.

Brooks is the first one to greet Jimmy when he walks off the mound to the dugout on the third-base side. More cheers from his loved ones, too.

Postgame scrum, and a reunion of sorts
Showered and dressed in that blue sport coat, Jimmy is swarmed by the press and TV reporters after the game. They ask what pitches he threw for that strikeout. “Fastball, fastball and fastball,” Jimmy says. Duh.

How’d it feel to pitch in the major leagues? Very to-the-point, basic softballs here. “Just like I hoped it would.”

Even though Jimmy has shown no signs of injury or anything, a reporter asks him how his arm feels. Jimmy never answers. His gaze shifts past the reporters, past the bright camera lights. Standing down the hall is his father. Jimmy excuses himself from the media scrum, quite clearly shocked to see his dad.

“I didn’t know you were here,” Jimmy tells his dad.

“Wasn’t missing this one… Watching you tonight, not many fathers get a chance to do that. I guess I let too many of those things get away,” Jimmy’s father says. The movie doesn’t show it, but there’s also a giant lightbulb hanging over his head, and it switched on.

“So did I,” Jimmy responds.

When his father turns to leave, Jimmy calls him back. He pulls the game ball out of his pocket and gives it to him.

If there was tension between the real Jimmy and his dad and they made up like this, awesome. Great story. But that’s what it feels like – a story. They didn’t get along for the entire movie, and it was made into a huge subplot. And now we’re supposed to believe that everything’s all good and he gives his first game ball to his dad? Seems to fit too well, if you ask me.

One reunion leads to another and another
His father walks away toward a dark area underneath the stadium. OK, how the hell did he get down there? This is clearly an area fans do not have access to. But he just happened to show up so they could have this little scene. And as Jimmy is on the verge of tears, he turns to see Lorri in one of the dark corners of the creepy underground.

“Does that mean I don’t get a baseball?”

Damn straight, Lorri. (Actually, I’d probably give it to Hunter.)

Lorri and Jimmy embrace with a passionate kiss. Well, as passionate as is allowed in a Disney film. Finally reunited after his months of playing ball on the road, they walk up a ramp (an exit to this underground part of the stadium?) with their arms around each other.

Jimmy asks about the kids, and I think Lorri says they’re with one of the old fellows from town – and he had a little help. Just then, Jimmy turns around offering one of the most pleasantly surprised looks on his face when he’s greeted with a sea of people applauding and cheering for him. His own hometown fan club. Hunter and Jessie jump into their dad’s arms. Jimmy takes in the moment of the crowd cheering for him.

He’s still so shocked by the ovation. It’s well deserved. He finally made it to the big leagues, after all.

 

Wrapping it up

Some time later, the movie takes us back to the front of the school in Big Lake, then the camera pans over to the trophy case in the hallway inside. Hanging up ever-so-neatly is a Devils Rays jersey with a crisp No. 63 and “Morris” on the back, facing outward. A Rays cap is also hanging nearby, because I suppose having a shine to a Jiffy Lube cap would be weird. And let’s be honest, Jimmy probably wore that same Jiffy Lube cap for decades.

On a nearby shelf in the case, there’s a team photo of the district-champion Owls baseball team. The camera gives us a close-up of Jimmy’s face in the photo, and the screen fades into a picture of the nuns from the beginning of the movie leaving the windy, dusty ballyard. With that as the backdrop, one last text graphic is displayed:

“Jim Morris pitched in the Major Leagues for two seasons. He lives, once again, in Texas.”

Fade to black, roll credits.

Thanks for reading!
For those of you who read through the end of my “A League of Their Own”commentary, you’ll recall how much I gushed over the ending credits in that movie, complete with baseball, old photos and a great song. Well, the credits in “The Rookie” are as basic as it gets. Sorry to disappoint you.

We’ve reached the end of my second sports-movie commentary. I’d like to thank the quarantine/pandemic for the time I’ve been given for this project. I’d also like to give a big shout-out to all my readers and followers on my various social channels. I always appreciate the support.

Now, let’s play ball! 

The Rookie commentary, part 1: ‘What kind of baseball do they have? … They don’t.
The Rookie commentary, part 2: ‘There are more important things in life than baseball’

The Rookie commentary, part 3: ‘Yeah dad, bring the heat!’
The Rookie commentary, part 4: ‘You don’t have dreams, you don’t have anything’
The Rookie commentary, part 5: 'You got your shot at baseball. You got hurt.' 
The Rookie commentary, part 6: 'State! State! State!'
The Rookie commentary, part 7: 'It's your turn, coach'
The Rookie commentary, part 8: 'You just threw 98 mph'
The Rookie commentary, part 9: ‘Do you know how many guys can throw the ball 98 mph?’
The Rookie commentary, part 10: 'What are we telling him if you don't try now?'
The Rookie commentary, part 11: 'I'm the old guy'
The Rookie commentary, part 12: 'I'm wasting my time down here'
The Rookie commentary, part 13: 'There's a dress code in the Major Leagues'