Thoughts from the Stands: November 2020

Wednesday, November 25, 2020

Angels in the Outfield commentary, part 14: ‘It could happen’

Clark is dripping sweat and spits in slow motion. The batter spits, too, except he’s clearly chewing tobacco. Gross. He also has quite the impressive mustache.

Then for once, I’m actually on the same page with Ranch here: “I can’t believe he’s leaving Clark in the game. Any hit scores a run.” I’m pretty sure that last sentence is to make it clear what’s at stake for the non-baseball folks watching the movie. One of those things you might not say in real life but have to add in order to educate the viewing audience.

J.P. comes over to Roger in the dugout, thinking, hoping, that there’s an angel with Clark. Roger looks like he’s about to puke because he knows that’s not true. No angels are coming to the rescue this time. Foul ball, 0-1 count. Down in the dirt, 1-1.

His pitch count is what now?!
And then, this from Wally in the radio booth as Clark shakes out his pitching arm:

“His arm has to be tired. He’s thrown 156 pitches.”

I’m sorry. What? 156 pitches? Even when I first started watching this as a kid before I knew my baseball, that seemed like a lot. Once I knew that 100 pitches was the general ballpark for a solid outing, this stat is downright comical.

2-1, pitch No. 157. Way inside, 3-1. Knox nods to the bullpen-phone guy in the dugout and asks Roger if there are any angels. Next pitch is a deep, deep fly ball, but it barely lands foul in the seats. Well, it comes down to a full count. Cue Ranch to give us a rapid-fire scenario: Full count, two outs, Angels lead by a run, “and for Mel Clark, this is the pressure cooker.” Oh. I’m sure he hasn’t been under any pressure already.

Finally, it looks like a good pitching decision… or does it?
And now Knox tells Roger he’s going to pull Clark. Are you freakin’ kidding me? Now? You sit around all game, let him get into jam after jam out there, let him thrown nearly 160 pitches, hit a batter to load the bases, but it’s finally that full count that gets you to make the move? Sure, skip. You do you.

Roger, implores Knox like a little kid, wanting Clark to “try.” Knox says Clark is “all used up.” Well, duh. Any pitcher would be all used up at that pitch count. Not to mention, Clark doesn’t exactly look like a 22-year-old out there. Age isn’t on his side.

So, even though no guys in sparkling pajamas are coming to help out tonight, we’re going to get one final moment of movie magic. Roger tells Knox that all Clark has to do is believe, and then they put their heads together to come up with a plan.

I’ve never seen a pitching coach in this movie, and that would have been a good time for a visit. But Knox heads out of the dugout to presumably relieve Clark.

“All I can say is, it’s about time.” I’m with ya, Ranch. Though he seems really gleeful about it.

Everybody make that angel signal
Clark tells Knox that he has nothing left. Knox says he has one strike left, and Clark is almost begging to be taken out with his body language. But wait! Roger steps out of the dugout and makes the angel signal with his arms. Knox tells Clark he has an angel with him. As the inspirational soundtrack rolls, J.P. and the rest of the Angels in the dugout join them in the signal. Then the fans in the stands all start doing it, like it’s the wave or something. I hate the wave, by the way.

Knox and Clark look around the stadium as the music goes full inspirational with everyone standing to join in the signal. Knox utters an “It could happen,” just to put the cheese factor over the top. And we see David in the box seats; he’s ditched the suit and bowtie in favor of the Angels-souvenir-shop look, complete with a halo atop his Angels cap. We also see the drunk fan, who’s still wearing a sleeveless tank.

In the owners’ box, Murphy gives the signal, too. He looks back at his family so they join in as well. Plenty of them are wearing cowboy garb, of course. We get it already. In the radio booth, Wally has that idiotic grin on his face as he and the producer give the signal. Ranch, obviously, sits there doing nothing.

This is a really long mound visit, and I’m sure the umpire would have been out there by now if this wasn’t a movie. Knox leaves Clark in after all that, again mentioning the “championship.” The angel signals turn to cheers.

Ranch can’t hide his displeasure for leaving Clark in. “This is not smart baseball. This is ridiculous.” That gets Murphy to switch his radio dial to the off position.

It all comes down to this
We have dramatic music and slow motion for this pitch on the full count. Silence at the delivery. The batter connects with a loud crack of the bat. Eyes grow wide in the Angels dugout. Clark leaps to his left to grab the ball. He catches it in his glove as he falls to the ground. It almost bounces out before he secures it with his right hand.

Play that happy soundtrack! The Angels celebrate on the field at the end of the game, and Roger and J.P. get on the field, too. Clark and Knox have a delirious hug in the middle of the scrum, where Clark says he believes in angels, but Knox says “you did yourself.”

Knox and the lads get lifted up on shoulders. It’s pure jubilation. Although I don’t see any personnel on the field handing out hats and t-shirts with the division-champion logos on them. Too bad.

In the radio booth, throwing professionalism out the window, Wally and the producer celebrate while Ranch yanks his headphones off saying “I can’t believe it!” in disgust. Murphy promptly enters and fires him. I can’t say I dislike the move. But can you really blame the guy for calling out Knox for leaving Clark in the game?

“You can’t fire me! I got a contract! I’m Ranch Wilder!”

Then Wally gets his revenge after taking a beating all season from his co-host. “Easy Ranch. Less is more.”

A happy ending in multiple ways
The celebration continues and ends as the boys run back home to celebrate with Maggie. She says she heard. I hope she would have made an exception and actually watched the game. Then there are a couple of lines very obviously dubbed in, one of Roger saying “the Angels won the pennant” and Maggie saying “it’s great!” and “well done!” like they had something to do with it, while hugging and kissing the boys. That cheese factor is astronomical again.

Maggie then informs Roger that his social worker called about finding him a permanent home. Roger, the poor kid, is still hung up on his dad and thinks it’s about him. J.P. runs off to cry about his best friend leaving. Knox is there to talk it over with Roger. Because again, Knox takes the boys home. I guess he didn’t have any media obligations or bubbly to drink with the team after winning such a big game.

Knox tries to convince Roger a family to take care of him will be a good thing, and Roger reluctantly agrees.

Then, we get one more special moment in this movie. Knox reveals that he was the one that called about wanting to take Roger in and “try to be a dad.”

“I want you to come and live at my house.”

Roger rushes to hug him, immediately excited at the idea. But upon hearing J.P. enter the room, still upset, Roger backs off and says he can’t leave J.P. Knox says he could never leave J.P. “He’s coming, too!” J.P. overhears, and then it’s group-hug central.

Well, maybe he should have mentioned something to J.P.’s social worker as well. Maggie tells them that it’s OK to leave her behind, too. “There are plenty of little angels looking for a home.” Aww, how sweet. The trio rejoices at the prospect of being a family, and J.P. is excited about having a daddy.

Then, J.P. looks out the window and sees the boss angel give a final cap tip. “I knew it could happen!” For some reason, J.P. can now see the angels, too. I’m cool with it.

As the parting shot, Al the angel turns into the graphics of an angel again and flies away, telling the camera “we’re always watching” as he flies into the starry night sky. The credits start to roll as a few bright stars form a baseball diamond in the sky while an instrumental version of “Take Me Out to the Ballgame” plays.

There you have it. More details than you ever wanted to know about Angels in the Outfield. This was another fun series to put together. Thanks for reading any part of it.

Angels in the Outfield commentary, part 1: 'I'd say when the Angels win the pennant'
Angels in the Outfield commentary, part 2: 'Boy, they're bad'
Angels in the Outfield commentary, part 3: 'You don't even *lose* as a team!'
Angels in the Outfield commentary, part 4: 'God, if there is a God...'
Angels in the Outfield commentary, part 5: 'I love it when they come from above like that'
Angels in the Outfield commentary, part 6: 'There were *angels* in the outfield!'
Angels in the Outfield commentary, part 7: 'Let's keep the profanity down'
Angels in the Outfield commentary, part 8: 'This is not baseball'
Angels in the Outfield commentary, part 9: 'If the angel pitches with him...'
Angels in the Outfield commentary, part 10: 'Take me out to the ball game'

Angels in the Outfield commentary, part 11: 'You can't go through life thinking everyone you meet will one day let you down'

Angels in the Outfield commentary, part 12: 'You gotta have faith. You gotta believe'

Angels in the Outfield commentary, part 13: 'Show them what winners can do!'

Tuesday, November 24, 2020

Angels in the Outfield commentary, part 13: ‘Show them what winners can do!’

Finally, it’s time for that last ball game. And get this? It’s a night game. It’d have to be, if they were going to keep up with continuity. No way they have a morning press conference like that and then play that afternoon. Still, the fact that the owner was possibly going to fire his manager on the same day as a pennant-clinching game is ridiculous.

We get a helicopter view of the stadium at night, before heading in to see Knox beaming down at Roger and J.P. They’re in the dugout for the big game, wearing Angels jerseys with their first names on the back. “There are no seats left in sports heaven,” Ranch says to his listeners. Cornball alert! It’s a sold-out crowd for the big game, because of course it is, to see who wins the Western Division.

For some reason, Knox gives his pregame speech at the top of the dugout steps to his team standing in front of the bench. I’m not sure why the clubhouse wasn’t an option, but alright. Knox starts by saying he didn’t believe in his players – or anything – at the start of the season.

“But when you stood up this morning, you gave me back my reason to believe. I’m more proud of being a part of this team than any team I’ve ever been on. You’re all winners, and I believe in you!”

Knox raises his voice now, but in a good, pump-up way. Not like that vein-popping way when he dumped the snack table. He’s already got Clark fired up, as the pitcher removes his Angels jacket with a determined look in his eyes.

Pump up time!
Knox continues, pumping his fist: “So let’s go out there and show them what winners can do! Let’s take that championship!”

Is this a good time to tell him this isn’t the World Series? This was another point that I didn’t quite realize until many viewings later, but this is for a division title. Now granted, the team is on the cusp of an improbable comeback from last place in the middle of the season. It’s a huge deal for them, yes. But this isn’t the end of the line, and the movie makes it out to be so.

Back to the pumped-up players. They all start cheering and high-fiving on their way to take the field to a roaring crowd as the happy-music soundtrack plays.

Starting pitcher against these White Sox? Mel Clark, of course.

Rough start for Clark
For some quick adversity right off the bat, Clark gives up a two-run single in the 1st inning before a diving catch from an infield ends the half inning to limit the damage to 2-0. We move along to the top of the 5th, as Ranch guides our way, still down 2-0 with a struggling Clark on the mound. (How fast would his hook have been in today’s game?)

Clark is tiring, and there’s a man up in the bullpen. It’s inning five, remember. The third baseman makes a play at the bag and celebrates about it.

A screen fades to another inning, the 6th, with a runner on for the Angels. Ray Mitchell is up, the Angels best hitter who was yanked for Hemerling earlier in the season. Ranch notes, however, that Mitchell has choked in the past when the pressure is on. On cue, Knox gets up in the dugout and starts yelling encouragement to Mitchell in the batter’s box. Appreciate his spirit.

On cue again, Mitchell connects for a 2-run home run to tie the game. What’s a little funny is we see the crowd looking on to see where the ball goes, then Knox and the players follow suit, yelling “Go! Go!” as if to will the ball over the fence. And… the ball lands in the crowd at the top of the bleachers. So, more of a no-doubter than a shot that barely made it over the wall.

Celly time for Angels fans.

Clark needs an angel
Chicago threatens again the next inning, and to hear Ranch tell it, Clark has been in trouble on the mound all night. Then why is he still in the game?! I get that it’s still a tie ball game, but I’d like to hear what the LOB (left on base) count is for the Sox. It has to be high.

“Clark definitely could use an angel now,” Ranch says, because the cheesy-line department wrote this part of the script. OK, maybe it’s not that bad. “As he’s tiring late in the game.”

Clark gets out of the jam with a running catch from Williams in center. When Clark greets Roger in the dugout, the boss angel shows up behind him. Al tells Roger that no angels are coming today, because “championships have to be won on their own.” Again, not a championship.

Al is the bearer of bad news
Also, it’s the bottom of the 7th, maybe give the kid a better heads-up about the lack of angels tonight. And really, why no angels? If championships really have to be won on their own, then the angels should have never shown up in the first place. What a dumb rule.

Al then really puts a damper on things by saying he’s there to check on Mel who’s “coming up soon” and will be an angel. Not sure why they have to kill of Tony Danza, but alright. Al makes a comment about Clark’s “smoke-free” years as a way of commenting on how he’s going to die. So, lung cancer? He has six months to live and is carefree at the moment.

Al basically tells Roger to stop worrying and concentrate on his own life. The angels expect great things from Roger, which is kind of a nice way to wrap things up with the boss angel.

Like a broken record, we’re reminded in the 8th inning as Clark is on the mound that he’s fatigued. But a GIDP “bails Clark out of a jam.” It seems to me they’re playing with fire on that front. With a runner on third in the bottom half, the Angels score on a squeeze bunt play to take a 3-2 lead. Well. That was a play we hadn’t seen in this movie yet. Celly time again!

Top of the 9^th = The pressure cooker
Deep breaths, time for the top of the 9th… and Clark is back on the mound to face the heart of the Chicago order. This is definitely going against the baseball book. Where’s the closer? First pitch is a bloop single to center. Boom. I give him the hook right there. Call the bullpen.

Nope. This has to play out like a movie. All Knox does is have a coach call down to the ‘pen to get somebody up. I’m not sure why you wouldn’t have somebody up already. Seriously, Clark coughs on the mound and looks like he’s about to keel over.

A grounder gets the first out but advances the tying run to second. Still not ideal. Next batter, the shortstop dives for the ball to keep it in the infield. It sure looks like a play where you just eat the ball and allow the infield hit. Instead, he throws to first, off-balance, and the runner is safe. Lucky that wasn’t an errant throw. So, two on with one out, but it’s not all bad because this puts the double-play ball back on the board.

Is this too inside-baseball? My apologies, but I can get carried away. If you haven’t already noticed by making it this far through this entire commentary.

Why is Clark still in the game?
I’m not sure what Knox is waiting for, but maybe he has good head-to-head numbers as a righthanded pitcher against this next batter, from the left side of the plate. But this batter drives a ball to the gap in center. Williams and Norton go after it. But instead of a concussion-collision, Norton slides on the grass at the same moment Williams leaps up to make the catch. Like, what even is that play?

“And Ben Williams saves the game for now with a spectacular catch!” Ranch exclaims.

The fly is deep enough for the runner to tag-up to third base, putting runners at the corners with two away. Then Clark hits the next batter in the back to load the bases. The batter gives Clark a stare down as he tosses the bat aside. Yeah buddy, he’s tired and been in jams all night while one out away from the win. I’m sure he hit you on purpose.

Who does that bring up? Why, the league’s RBI leader, of course! This guy is nicknamed “Hit or Die,” which seems a little violent and extreme. But hey, the message needs to be conveyed that he’s a dangerous hitter.

Angels in the Outfield commentary, part 11: 'You can't go through life thinking everyone you meet will one day let you down'

Angels in the Outfield commentary, part 12: 'You gotta have faith. You gotta believe'

Monday, November 23, 2020

Angels in the Outfield commentary, part 12: ‘You gotta have faith. You gotta believe’

Back to Murphy’s living room. He’s not wearing a cowboy hat, but it’s strategically placed on the mantle where he drapes his arm right after putting down a newspaper and asking Knox “What in the Sam Hill is all this about real angels?”

Knox tries to blow it off, and Murphy isn’t buying that cow dung either. It’s obviously hard to explain, but Knox mentions the boys as his mascots, of sorts, and downplays the angels by saying it’s between the three of them. He clarifies that the angels are “not in on all the plays.”

“You’ve lost it, partner,” says Murphy. That cowboy lingo just keeps coming.

Then Knox follows up by saying if he lies, the angels wouldn’t like it and wouldn’t come back. Like the profanity, I don’t really get this line of thinking. Is it a way to teach kids good lessons in this children’s movie, about not lying or swearing? Because the boss angel Al never said anything about it. Then again, it’s all farfetched anyway, so why am I nitpicking?

Owner doesn’t pull any punches
Knox says the angels are very temperamental.

“Mental is the keyword here,” Murphy says. “I’m sorry, George, but I’m relieving you of your management responsibilities.”

That seems extreme given that the team has one game left in the season with a chance to win the division. Then Murphy shifts quickly from firing his manager to telling Knox he’ll give him a 24-hour window “to get your head on straight.” Then Murphy will call a presser where Knox can tell the whole world that this “hogwash” about angels isn’t true.

“George, you repeat any of the bologna I’ve heard here, we’re talking the end of your career in baseball,” Murphy says. “Have I made myself clear?”

OK, I have some time issues again. The Angels had two games left in the season, the first was the loss on the same day Roger went to court. The next day, presumably the same one where Knox and Murphy have this conversation, should be the final game of the season… right? What kind of schedule would that be, to have an off day before the final game of the season?

I know, I know. I’m thinking too much. I’m forgetting my dad’s favorite line to me: It’s a movie!

All cozy by the fire, Knox is at home getting his head on straight, or going through a box of old baseball stuff. This includes a Sports Illustrated cover with him in his catcher’s gear.

Full house for the presser
At the press conference the next morning, Murphy strolls to the podium wearing his cowboy hat; the room is filled with reporters and Angels players as Knox prepares to read a statement about these so-called angels. But before he gets into his second sentence, Roger, J.P. and Maggie show up in the back. Their arrival causes a stir. Not really sure why they’re late, but OK.

Knox decides to “shoot from the hip” with his words. He starts off by saying there aren’t always logical explanations for things that happen in sports. Very true, in real life as well. He believes there are times in life where something stronger, higher “or maybe spiritual is with us.”

“I can’t explain it. But something has happened to my players this year,” Knox says, as the camera pans into the audience and spots Ranch with a “I’m not buying this crap” look in his face.

Knox does a good job here of explaining how his players have played differently, and he’s managed differently this season. Call it faith, angels or whatever you want, he adds, wrapping it up.

A speech from Maggie
And because the movie didn’t bother to pay any other actors to have speaking lines as journalists, Ranch jumps in with the first question. He’s as objective as he always is (so, not very) in asking if Knox believes that a kid sees angels at the games. Knox doesn’t know how to respond, so Maggie – yes, Maggie – jumps in instead.

Maggie wants to say something on behalf of Knox, but Murphy, who apparently didn’t notice her waltzing into the presser late, asks her name and business for being here. Maggie Nelson, takes care of foster kids, she states.

She goes into her speech, saying Roger could tell them all what’s happened, but everyone would laugh. She points out a double standard though, because nobody laughs at a player when he crosses himself before going to the pitcher’s mound, or when a player scores a touchdown. Saying it’s like it’s OK to believe in God but not angels. It’s not the best analogy, in my opinion, because as we all know, this is a movie with a bunch of stuff that is so beyond realistic.

This ice-breaker exchange between Murphy and Maggie is pretty funny though, for the people at the presser and movie viewers.

“Is it your belief, ma’am, that angels play baseball?”

“Since the All-Star Break, yes,” Maggie replies, very seriously. It’s a great line.

“We all need somebody to watch out for us,” Maggie continues. “Every kid I have ever taken care of, has been looking for someone to love. An angel.

“You’ve gotta have faith. You’ve gotta believe. You’ve gotta look inside yourself. The footprints of an angel are love. And where there is love, miraculous things can happen. I’ve seen it.”

That’s actually a pretty good speech from Maggie. In overthinking about it as I’m working on this piece, however, I’m not quite sure how all this is supposed to wrap together with the baseball team. Faith, believing, foster kids needing love… it’s all very nice. But that has nothing to do with whether Knox and/or Roger are crazy for believing these angels help the team.

Maybe I should just go with it and enjoy this sweet little kid’s movie.

Would the real Angels please stand up?
Her speech prompts Clark to rise from his seat and speak, because I guess this is a free-for-all news conference. Clark doesn’t know if there are angels out there, “other than the 25 of us in uniform.”

“But I know, there is one thing I won’t do,” Clark continues. “I won’t play for anyone but George Knox. I believe in him.”

Whoa. Huge full-circle moment right here. Remember when these two basically wanted to kill each other with their words early in the movie? Their past history from Cincinnati was a trigger point? Well. My how the turn tables.

Catcher Messmer is quick to stand up – wearing thick, black-framed glasses that were in style in the 1960s and 2010s but definitely not in the 90s – and say “that goes for me, too.” This creates a ripple effect throughout the room as other players all stand up as well. Roger and J.P. rise as Knox offers a “thank you” with teary eyes.

Murphy really has no choice at this point. I’m not sure if his intention of possibly firing Knox got out to the press, but there’s no way he’s doing it now.

“George Knox is the manager of the ball club.”

That’s met with cheers from the room as Murphy also comes around on the angels, saying that he hopes they’re on their side. Well, considering the name of the movie is Angels in the Outfield, yeah, they’re on your side.

The applause gets boisterous in the room. Roger looks like he’s going to hurt himself, he’s clapping so hard. Even the always-annoyed David offers a smile and giant clap.

Angels in the Outfield commentary, part 11: 'You can't go through life thinking everyone you meet will one day let you down'

Sunday, November 22, 2020

Angels in the Outfield commentary, part 11: ‘You can’t go through life thinking everyone you meet will one day let you down’

Meanwhile, at the courthouse, Roger sports a white shirt and tie as he and Maggie take a seat on an uncomfortable-looking bench. Time passes. I’ve never been to family court, but this is actually pretty realistic for the wait time, in my experience as a court reporter. You don’t just go to court without any waiting. It’s whenever your case is called. Things you learn when you’re a court reporter for a small-town newspaper.

Inside the courtroom, we see Roger’s dad make an appearance, still wearing that leather jacket and jeans. Pops looks real broken up about the fact that he’s there to have his parental rights terminated, or however this legal process is going.

“I’m not proud of it. It’s not something I can change my mind about either.” Ouch.

A heartbreaking, brief reunion
They finally call Roger in as his dad finishes signing his rights away. Roger forgets all about the baseball game he’s missing for a minute and is super excited to see his dad; he didn’t know he’d be there. Roger informs pops that the Angels are one game away from the pennant.

“Can you believe it? It’s just like you said?”

Oh, honey. For someone that knows so much about baseball and seems like a smart kid, it’s so sad to see how much emotional investment you have wrapped up in that sarcastic promise your dad made to you about the baseball team. Do I blame Roger? Absolutely not. He’s a kid who wants to be with his dad.

Pops responds by standing from his seat, tapping Roger on the cheek and muttering a sad “Sorry, boy” before walking out the door. Roger turns from stunned to an emotional wreck real quick. Luckily, Maggie is there for the tearful hug.

We lost!
Back in the tunnel at the ballpark, Messmer pounding the wall with his fist and Williams staring at the ground indicate the game is over and the Angels definitely lost. So, that means they’re now tied with Chicago with one game to play. What a plot twist! No one saw this coming!

J.P. is damn near inconsolable, though Knox tries his best, saying “it’s only a game.” One more “It could happen” from J.P. in this scene, too. Knox leaves him for a second before taking him home. Also, why is Knox the one bringing these kids home every game? Shouldn’t that be David’s responsibility, too?

Ranch sees an upset J.P. and grabs a chance to pounce. He flashes a business card in J.P.’s face and introduces himself as “the voice of the Angels.” J.P. says he knows he’s on the radio, then insults him by saying he has a big chin.

J.P. is still super innocent, and Ranch takes full advantage. J.P. spills his guts that they lost today because Roger couldn’t come, that he sees angels that help out because he prayed for them. He tells him everything. Ugh.

Roger’s mood turns sour. Poor kid.
On the ride home from court in Maggie’s station wagon that looks about three decades old, Roger loosens his tie. Maggie tries to put a good spin on his dad leaving him, that Roger could get adopted permanently. But Roger has clearly moved on from sad to bitter and pissed off.

Knox and J.P. are at home waiting for them. Maggie provides the context to Knox, and to the viewers. They waited three hours for the court hearing, which is “quick for family court.” The whole deal was a formality; Roger belongs to the state of California.

Roger is so pissed that he won’t even get out of the car, so J.P. and Knox join him in the front seat. Knox says he’s sorry to Roger, who angrily assumes he’s talking about losing “the stupid baseball game.” Knox turns and corrects him, saying he’s sorry because Roger is hurt. But Roger doesn’t want sympathy from someone who wouldn’t understand. Or so he thinks.

Some soft music plays, and it’s Knox story time. Knox talks about his childhood, with a deadbeat dad who couldn’t take care of him and his brothers. The pain doesn’t go away, Knox says, but “you can’t go through life thinking everyone you meet will one day let you down. Because if you do, a very bad thing will happen. You’ll end up like me.”

Huge revelation about Knox right here. Not only did his career get screwed by Ranch Wilder sliding into him, but he had a very rough upbringing as well.

More bonding for the boys
Knox stays to make dinner, because major league managers in a pennant race have a lot of free time to spend with kids he’s not related to. Later, the boys are out on the front porch when Knox says he’ll try making lasagna next time. He asks if the boys like that dish. They both say no and then ask what it is. Oh, sweet boys.

J.P. sees a sliver of a moon and calls it “God’s thumbnail.” Roger, still very much in an understandable mood from earlier, informs him that it’s just the moon because there’s “no God up there.” Roger says he doesn’t believe in angels anymore. Man, his dad really did a number on him.

Knox lets Roger sulk it out, even putting his arm around him in a tender moment that catches Roger sweetly by surprise.

The angels are out of the bag
The next day, we see the boys at the kitchen table likely doing homework. I think. Whatever it is, Roger is not at all subtle about finishing what he’s writing, closing his pink notebook and tossing it enthusiastically aside so he can read the newspaper. He’s actually reading a front-page story about himself.

Someone – Ranch, obviously – let it slip to a reporter that Roger sees angels. J.P. is identified in the story as “a source,” which Roger tells him means a person who told. Basically, Ranch Wilder hates the guts of George Knox so much that he had no problem going right to the newspaper with the story. Doesn’t seem like responsible journalism on anyone’s side.

Roger seems pleased by the fact that the story reported it was his idea to start Mel Clark in his first game back. But J.P. is still hung up on getting in trouble, even though it doesn’t dawn on Roger that J.P. might have told someone. Meanwhile, Knox is summoned to Murphy’s home, and the owner is not pleased.

Quick sidebar. When Knox enters, Murphy says “You stood me up last night.” All these years, I thought it was a comment about the team’s loss, like some odd way of pointing to Knox not coming through for him. But, remember when Knox stayed with Roger and J.P., made dinner with them? J.P. makes a comment to him, reminding Knox that he told him he had to be somewhere. Knox replied: “I do. Right here.”

That makes it even sweeter. Knox blew off plans with his boss, all because he wanted to make sure Roger was alright after his rough day.

Saturday, November 21, 2020

Angels in the Outfield commentary, part 10: ‘Take me out to the ball game’

After J.P. gets a hit, Knox calls on a petite tyke as the next batter. His name is Marvin, and he is standing on top of the junky car with a smashed windshield, wearing ripped blue jeans, a blue tee and an Angels cap. Marvin says he’s “never played any ball.” Knox tells Marvin when to swing, and he connects for a hit that Knox lets through his legs. It’s an infield hit for Marvin.

Knox prepares to pitch to a big, mean-looking kid sporting a Detroit jersey and a Brewers cap with the glove logo. “Babe Ruth” takes two bats to the plate, taps them together and tosses one aside, further smashing the car windshield.

Not surprisingly, the kid crushes a pitch into the street, and Knox tells Marvin to “run home!” He was instructed to do exactly what Knox told him. So, he leaves the ballpark and starts running down the sidewalk, muttering to himself, “run home, run home, run home…” Knox is confused, so Roger, the catcher in this game, explains it to him.

“You told him to run home. He did.”

Can you imagine the cool factor of having a major league manager stop by and pitch a sandlot baseball game on your block? This is the first time we’re really starting to see Knox soften a bit and enjoy himself in the company of Roger, J.P. and other kids in general.

We’ve reached the musical montage
To transition scenes, Knox tosses the baseball toward the sky, and a close-up shot of the baseball comes down into the glove of Angels pitcher Bass. He throws a pitch that turns into a newspaper edition of the Sports Gazette with a giant headline – too big of a headline for a random game out of 162, in my opinion – that reads “Angels Win Again.”

In the two other baseball movies I’ve watched and commented on so far, newspaper clippings have helped tell the story. I absolutely love that.

The newspaper leads into what’s standard in many movies, but especially sports movies where you need to advance the season or game along: The musical montage. Boss-angel Al flips over that newspaper and begins playing “Take Me Out to the Ballgame” on the organ. Again, another newspaper sports section appears.

Among the clips to follow, an angel absolutely drags Williams’ arm through a fence in the outfield to make a catch. We also see the Angels move up in the American League West Standings (before there were the three standard divisions of today). The division included Kansas City, Chicago, Oakland, Minnesota, Texas and Seattle. Go Twins.

Knox argues with an umpire again, but in mid-rant changes course and is nice about it, as to not get thrown out. Al helped him out on that one. Not exactly that funny. Another newspaper headline, then the big catcher – who runs like he has a stick up his butt – goes from first to third and slides in safely, getting a push from an angel. He celebrates by pounding his fists on his pudgy stomach, something the fans do as well. A Baseball Weekly cover, and then a Sports Illustrated cover with Mel Clark on the front.

Unrealistic clips, but it’s a movie
Plenty of other clips roll to show how much the Angels have turned things around and are playing good baseball, even if some of the plays are very ridiculous by real-life standards. Oh, and we get another joke to poke fun at David; he’s wearing a bee keeper’s hat to protect himself from all the flying peanuts and popcorn in the stands. I don’t know why people would waste that expensive ballpark fare, but to each their own.

A couple of clips later, he’s wearing a face shield to protect from ketchup and mustard. That clip hits a little differently in 2020, let me tell you.

Then there’s a triple play – without the help of angel intervention – which is also unrealistic. Well, I guess if a really, really slow runner hit the ball it would have worked. Force at third, then over to second, but for some reason the ball was lodged in the webbing of the fielder’s glove. He looks at it for what seems like five minutes before throwing his entire baseball glove (and ball) over to first for the out.

“Take Me Out to the Ballgame” ends with Al high-fiving a couple of angels, and copies of USA Today dropped on the sidewalk with the front-page headline: “Heaven on Earth!! Angels in 1st place!” I do not endorse the use of exclamation points there.

All comes down to the end of the season, of course
Ranch Wilder is up in the stadium stands, also like it’s 2020, filming a TV spot but really helping give the viewers context again. The Angels went from last place at the All-Star Break in July to coming within one win of the division title. There are two games left in the season, “ironically,” Ranch says (sigh) against the defending champs (because, of course) Chicago White Sox. The Sox are one game back.

Roger is watching at home on TV, which Maggie (remember her?) hangs up from a call… on the Angel’s telephone that looks like a baseball helmet. Seriously, they’re all walking souvenir shops.

Now, get ready for some conflict: Roger can’t make the game this afternoon because his social worker called and his court hearing has been moved. Roger freaks out about it. Honestly, I’d rather go to a baseball game than court, too.

Also, I’m having continuity issues again. Why are all these games in the afternoon in this movie so far? Sure, I know Sundays are always in the afternoon, and maybe a weekday here or there. But all of them? And, have Roger and J.P. really been going to all the home games? Because, uh, don’t they have school? If this is the end of the season, that’s late September. School is in session.

Let’s head to the ballpark
Stands are packed as fans got on the bandwagon for the Angels during all the winning. Ranch sets the scene for us:

“The Southern California sun is shining, the field is ready, the hot dogs are warm and there isn’t an empty seat in the house.” … As the camera shows J.P. sadly pressing down on Roger’s empty seat next to him.

Knox comes over, and by this point David really knows his place. Nothing is even said and David goes to get the kid a large Coke, two (hot) dogs, three cracker jacks and maybe a car and corporate jet. It’s kind of a random bit this whole time, but they had to come up with something for David to do throughout the movie, I guess.

Knox is annoyed that Roger had to go to court and can’t understand why they didn’t lie to get him out of it.

“That’d be lying. Maggie would never lie,” J.P. offers.

“Well Maggie’s not in a pennant race,” Knox mocks back.

J.P. pulls some giant binoculars to his eyes from around his neck (seriously, he’s right on top of the field; why does he need those things?) and for a moment makes us think he sees an angel, but no dice. He utters an “It could happen” (instance No. 4?) as to whether he could see angels.

Angels in the Outfield commentary, part 1: 'I'd say when the Angels win the pennant'

Angels in the Outfield commentary, part 2: 'Boy, they're bad'

Angels in the Outfield commentary, part 3: 'You don't even *lose* as a team!'

Angels in the Outfield commentary, part 4: 'God, if there is a God...'

Angels in the Outfield commentary, part 5: 'I love it when they come from above like that'

Angels in the Outfield commentary, part 6: 'There were *angels* in the outfield!'

Angels in the Outfield commentary, part 7: 'Let's keep the profanity down'

Angels in the Outfield commentary, part 8: 'This is not baseball'

Angels in the Outfield commentary, part 9: 'If the angel pitches with him...'

Friday, November 20, 2020

Angels in the Outfield commentary, part 9: ‘If the angel pitches with him…’

Back at the ballpark, Ranch Wilder has the next opponent for us: The “long-time nemesis” of the Angels, the Detroit Tigers. I didn’t realize that was a thing, but alright. Maybe things were different without a Central Division. For context in the movie, the Tigers have been the hottest team around lately, which seems weird to type. So for these purposes, the Angels will be tested this series. We’re treated to some pregame shots of players warming up, fans entering the stadium and Bass signing an autograph.

David is sitting there in his suit wearing a clear, plastic coat already dotted with various condiment stains. The joke was funny the first time. Now, maybe not as much.

Roger spots an angel with pitcher Mel Clark (Tony Danza) standing down in the bullpen, so he clues J.P. in to commence operation Get Rid of David. J.P. delivers another gem, turning to David: “I gotta go to the bathroom. I can’t go alone. Bad guys might get me.” Oh, this kid.

So, Roger is free to make his angel arm signals and talk to Knox. Of course, mini-manager Roger and his angel sense think Clark should start the game, even though Knox reminds him that Clark’s “arm is gone.” He’s not even on the active roster either, which also begs the question: Why is Mel hanging out in the bullpen in uniform?

Put him in, coach
Roger cares not for these logistical concerns. “If the angel pitches with him, he’ll be awesome!” He appears to have convinced Knox yet again, eventually. So, Knox strolls down the first baseline to the Angels bullpen. The fact that the ‘pen is tucked away down the baseline reminds me of the way they used to be at the Metrodome, too.

Clark, leaning against the fence with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his team jacket, is already visibly annoyed that Knox is coming over to talk to him. These two really don’t care for each other. Knox waits a beat, folds his arms and then matter-of-factly tells the pitcher he’s off IR and starting the game today. Can’t even look the dude in the eye.

Clark is confused at the nod, understandably. This seems like quite the movie-move here. Not only is he not on the roster, and he’s presumably still hurt, but how soon is it to game time? He’s expected to start on a few minutes notice? So much for the pregame rituals and routines of pitchers.

No one understands the pitching decision
Ranch, as always, narrates for the viewers. Dan Prince, whoever that is, was supposed to start, but he officially announces the starter change to the “long-injured” Clark. Ranch clarifies the roster question, too, saying the league is OK with the roster being altered up until game time. But I would guess that’s active roster moves. Oh well, it’s a movie. Clark is going to pitch because that’s what the writers want.

Fans are apparently very interested in Clark’s warm-up tosses; they start booing him after he bounces one foot in front of the plate. Ranch is still on the air, cigarette in hand again, and then starts berating his sidekick Wally and the poor producer. He also notes that Clark hasn’t started a game in the decade. That seems significant since this movie was released in 1994.

With the first pitch coming, sure enough, an angel shows up right behind Clark on the mound. He helps guide a fastball into the catcher’s mitt with such force that Clark loses his ballcap upon delivery. That draws cheers from the crowd, though Ranch is pretty certain it’s beginner’s luck of some sort.

Clark brings the fire
Then we’re treated to a montage of Clark throwing strike after strike to the bewildered Tigers hitters. I’m sure it would have been tough for the opponent anyway, with no scouting report to read.

We don’t see much of the game. Ranch pours himself another adult beverage with a full count and two gone in the top of the ninth. You think Clark is still hurling?

“This could be the Tigers last chance to get back in this ballgame,” Ranch says. I mean, wow, what a take, Ranch. Yeah, I guess if they’re down to their last strike, that would be their last chance.

Clark strikes out a lefthanded batter with a swinging strike in slow motion to end the game. Roger and the crowd go wild as Knox politely claps at the top of the dugout, acknowledging Roger’s call along with his team’s win.

Angels win 1-0. I guess the writers couldn’t get very creative with the final box scores or something. Clark completes the shutout. Ranch is up in the booth lamenting that his old pal Knox gets the credit for the brilliant pitching decision.

Postgame festivities
Knox is down in the media scrum, where he should be this time, in the clubhouse. Ranch, who’s like the FSNorth reporter equivalent, asks what inspired him to start Clark. Knox spews some garbage about an instinct, feeling and faith. Ranch isn’t buying. Knox continues by saying Clark has always been “an extraordinary athlete.” A little different dialogue than when he talked about pain pills with Clark earlier in the movie.

Knox wraps up the interview himself and heads off, even though Ranch was the only one who asked any questions. Not a fan of that as a journalist, but whatever. Ranch looks pissed and also suspicious. Then, because he’s the only loudmouth who matters in the media (or the only actor the movie wanted to pay to say lines), he shouts over to Clark to get a comment. I’m sorry, but where are the communications directors to facilitate these scrums?

Roger, J.P. and Knox prepare to head out in the Angels minivan, mentioning the team has won three in a row. Knox feels he owes the boys something, although free baseball games, food and souvies seem to be a fair trade. But we need something fun to break up the Angels baseball, so let’s have some sandlot baseball.

Not sure where all the kids came from, but they’re wearing baseball caps and jerseys from all across the leagues, prepping to play baseball with Knox on the makeshift mound – wearing a button-down shirt and slacks. A junked-out car and dingy looking trailer are parked behind home plate in whatever dirt lot this is.

Maybe Clark took care of business in a tidy 2:15, giving them plenty of time for a game during daylight hours.