A League of Their Own commentary, part 4: ‘OK, some of them are goin’ home’

The next ballplayers are introduced to us in the form of actress Rosie O’Donnell and musical superstar Madonna as Doris Murphy and Mae Mordabito. Doris attempts to impress with a trick balancing a bat on her fingers, which would be more impressive if we could see the top of the bat. But hey, it’s a movie.

They encounter the earlier trio of ballplayers – Marla, Kit and Dottie – and for the purpose of the audience, we’re informed that the league will have four teams with 16 players on each team. Dottie does faster math than I could do in my head and says that’s 64 girls from the 100-plus trying out.

After some very brief trash talk, Doris fires a baseball in the direction of the other three. Without a flinch, Dottie reaches out and catches the ball with her right hand. That “smack!” had to be added in the editing room, but man, did it sound good. Again, we’re establishing that Dottie’s got the skills.

Montage time
Let’s get to the musical montage. Cut to an elderly woman in a radio booth who steps to a microphone and reads a social commentary about the “dangerous consequences” of having women go to work while the men are off fighting the war. She refers to the new women’s baseball league as the “most disgusting example of this sexual confusion.” I’m so glad we’ve reached a place where there are female athletes accepted in our world today.

Her comments, such as they are, are then dubbed over the footage of the league tryouts and also provide the first taste of the kind of musical selections we can expect from the film. I really like this big-band style of music for this movie.

As the catchers are lined up to make their throws from home plate down to second base, a throw bounces its way toward the bag. Then Dottie steps up and fires the ball squarely into the fielder’s glove so much so that it leaves the second baseman shaking her hand in pain. That makes all the other catchers in the line nervous, obviously. So, Dottie is a catcher and this is just a taste of the stellar play she’ll treat us to throughout the season.

Going over the ground rules
When the team lists are posted showing who made the cut, Kit quickly rushes over and excitedly finds her name. She runs back and tackles Dottie, absolutely thrilled that she can stay and play baseball for the Rockford Peaches. There’s no official on-screen confirmation that Dottie makes a team. She doesn’t go look at the list. But again, it’s pretty obvious she’s going to be on a team. I mean, she’s one of the stars of the movie.

During the meeting with the teams that followed on the field, there’s a visibly upset woman standing alone at the bulletin board of team lists. When I first saw this movie, I don’t think I even realized what was wrong. That’s how odd it seemed for me to see an adult who didn’t know how to read. One of the other players catches on though, and she helps Shirley Baker find her name on the Rockford list.

The Racine coach leads the meeting and tells the players they’re the first players in the All-American Girls Baseball League. Did I already mention it seems weird to have them known as “girls” instead of “women”? But wait, the sexism continues when a model walks on top of the dugout in a sample uniform. The coach says it’s “pretty darn nifty.” Yeah, ok pal.

Doris says it’s a dress, and Mae retorts that it’s half a dress before Doris asks if the powers that be think they’re ballplayers or ballerinas. A tall Dottie remarks how she’s going to have “to squat in that thing.”

Mr. Lowenstein comes back on the scene to try to explain things a bit. Mae, with her wit, would like him to know that there are no pockets for her cigarettes. Lowenstein informing her that this is a no-smoking, no-drinking, no-men league causes Mae to stand up and nearly bail on the whole thing before Doris pulls her back down to her seat on the grass. Lowenstein telling the players about the rejected ballplayers getting train tickets home who’d play in bathing suits if he asked them doesn’t exactly inspire much confidence in selling the uniforms either.

Then he delivers the kicker that they’ll have to undergo classes at a beauty school. “For what?” -Doris, with the blunt retort.

‘Gracefully and grandfully’
A younger me was probably also thinking: “What the hell is a beauty school?” Well, next scene. It starts with the ladies walking across a room reaching one arm up high in front of them while the instructor calls out “gracefully and grandfully.” Marla, the one who looks like a general or whatever, is predictably struggling the most as she raises a very stiff arm in the air and looks extremely out of her element.

The next task is sipping tea, raising the cups up and down without slurping. I’ve never been a fan of tea, but I also try not to slurp my coffee. So, I guess that makes me an acceptable lady in this sense. Doris, meanwhile, is over at a table stuffing her face with cookies. She’s been put in a stereotypical overweight role in the film, where anyone who isn’t a size 2 must also get some food or weight jokes for comedic relief.

They also spend some time walking down stairs balancing books on their heads in order to practice good posture (I would probably fail at this one.) and then cross their legs together while seated in a way that “reveals nothing.” The beauty-school lady then goes down the line and bluntly tells her assistant how each gal can be made-over to look like a lady. Soften the hair, pluck the eyebrows. Kit, Dottie and their beauty-queen teammate Ellen Sue get glowing reviews.

Then she comes to Marla and reacts almost as badly as Capadino did.

“What do you suggest?”

“A lot of night games.” 

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'