Moneyball (spoilers)

What a great movie. It had everything I love about baseball, especially including Billy Beane politely (I assume) telling the Boston Red Sox to pee up a 12.5 million dollar rope. I love those sort of David and Goliath moments, even if David doesn’t win, because I hate big money thoroughly, completely, and with every fiber of my being. Everything about big money is fucked up, and it fucks up everything it touches. My goal in life is not to be wealthy; God forbid I ever fall into it by accident. I’d be as tormented as Brad Pitt, always testing my life for authenticity, legitimacy, always trying to see what hurts, trying to understand who my real friends were. What a nightmare that would be.

As it stands now, it’s fairly easy for me.

Bill asked if after seeing MB I’d forgiven Brad for the soul-crushingly awful Tree Of Life, and I said, no, hell no, I’ll never forgive that film, but some things just happen, and you can’t unhappen them, and you come to terms with them (or not) and move on. Anyway, Tree of Life is Malick’s to go down with, and he can choke on it. He can hold a press conference with Neil DeGrasse Tyson (whom I would like to stick to him for eternity with Industrial Strength Superglue) about it.

There were these amazing shots in the film. Twice, if I counted right, both at decision points, there were prominent “No Return” signs on the doors out of the parks. Both times, they meant it. The shot of Brad in the sun-shimmering shithole of the tunnel in the Oakland Coliseum, glowing, shining, was so good it was religious. (And it’s in the trailer above.)

I once had a dream that I bought the Oakland stadium for my family to live in; I have these strange feelings about Oakland, and most of them are of horror, but not all. Maybe I just have a soft spot for Jerry Brown, or steel shipping containers.

Anyway. What a great movie. Now I think I’ll watch Bull Durham, and get all happy and sad watching Susan Sarandon and Tim Robbins fall in love.

Tomorrow is my 19th wedding anniversary; the thought fills me with joy.

About katemckinnon

Kate McKinnon, globe-trotting writer and metalsmith, has devoted herself to the study of how things are done, and how they could be done better. She lives in Tucson, Arizona, and loves warm weather, nice people, rides in the car, and good books. View all posts by katemckinnon

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