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. 

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'