To discuss a Wild Bloggy Blog: We've Got Major Game in the Rookie Waterboy Mighty Blue Stick Sandlot League

Did you think my Top Christmas movies poll would be the most significant tome of movie reviews ever assembled? (Man, I hope not, or you set the bar low.) Well, feast your Festivus eyes on this:
The hilarious, witty and altogether manly Joshlos of It's a Bloggy Blog World has teamed up with me for what can only be described using an epic-ly long blog title.
We've assembled the Top 10 (Plus 2) Sports Movies of Our Generation-- our generation being that of 20-something dudes, so don't get mad that Bull Durham and Field of Dreams didn't make the cut. We were still sucking thumbs and eating crayons back then (and some yesterday, but I stopped after I heard magenta is high in cholesterol). This is a list we hope sparks controversy and a few forest fires.
We also freely acknowledge that most of our readers are women, so we hope you ladies have seen at least a few of these. And if you are a dude reading this, can you please come out of the woodwork? It's not often I have a guy-themed blog post. I write about America's Next Top Model, for God's sake. Luckily, Josh is adding some man fuel (yeah, that didn't sound right) to Wild ARS Chase.
The first half, plus my bonus pick, is here. The second half, plus his bonus pick, is now posted. Merry Christmas...
(Joshlos is in italics, I'm in bold. The picks are in random order)
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A League Of Their Own: Joshlos: True story: for a U.S. History class in college, one of my friends and I got permission to watch this movie and write a paper about it instead of movies like Glory, Saving Private Ryan, and the other suggested items.
I'll take Tom Hanks nailing a kid in the face with a baseball glove over realistic, historical war violence any day. But not over cartoonish, over-the-top, non-historical action movie violence. The Terminator wasn't on our list, though, and I don't think I could've sold that to the prof. The movie wasn't so bad, though, even if it did exceed Hollywood's sappiness requirements. Then again, it was essentially The Sisterhood Of The Traveling Stirrups.
ARS: This is a must-see. Madonna, before she went all Kabbalah. Rosie O'Donnell, before she went all View arch nemesis. Lori Petty, before she went all Tank Girl. I think it's a bona fide good movie, with classic lines like "There's no crying in baseball."


Mighty Ducks: ARS: Only the first one. None of this knuckle-puck nonsense. This is about Emilio Estevez regaining his glory by taking down his old coach, Jack Reilly of the Hawks, with a bunch of ragtag players and one fine performance from the guy from Dawson's Creek. This movie is so good, it spawned an actual NHL franchise (No, seriously, it did).
Joshlos: "Are we Ducks or what?" I remember that from my ol' skool church youth group days from a lock-in one time. Apparently some of group watched that at one point overnight and were so loopy from lack of sleep that they kept saying it over and over again until the next morning.
Some decided to keep the saying going for weeks afterward, thereby sorta making me resent the movie, which I'd previously loved before the lock-in. Aside from Major League, it's still probably my favorite "ragtag team comes together and succeeds" movie. As a kid, though, I always thought it was odd that Emilio Estevez wore such small skates. It wasn't until later that I learned all male Hollywood actors are only 5' 4".
ARS: Oh, you watched Disney movies during church lock-ins? I made out with girls. Coincidentally, I'm also going to hell.

Blue Chips: Joshlos: I don't like this movie for how good it is. Rather, I like this movie for how awful it is. Terrible acting from all but maybe two actors in the movie --- and they were only supporting roles. Nick Nolte misses the mark --- even if he did have a fun, "Bulworth"-like honesty breakdown at the end. Shaq, although entertaining in a few scenes, wasn't good. And Anfernee Hardaway may have turned in the worst acting job ever. He should get an award for how awful he was. One redeeming quality: the character names were classic, all the way from the minor characters --- Slick, Happy, Tony, Freddie, Jack --- to the major ones: Coach Pete Bell, Ricky Roe, Butch McRae, and, of course, Neon Bodeaux.
ARS: I am so glad you included this movie. Neon! Oh, what a name. Yes, Penny was a terrible actor. Shaq could barely mumble his sentences. And there was even a token white guy basketball player. It's everything you don't want in a basketball movie, which makes it all the more worthwhile to watch.

Stick It: Joshlos: I hate gymnastics. As a result, I wasn't talking about it this past Olympic season, and thus, also not fortunate enough to gain readers who were googling "Alicia Sacramone crotch shot." However, this movie's awesome. Well, the diner scene dialogue was a little clunky, but other than that, it's pretty hilarious. I'd have definitely watched the Olympics this year if all the opposing gymnasts would've gotten together ahead of time to decide which of them would actually compete in a given event, just to stick it* to the judges and their wack judging. Especially if it resulted a hip hop balance beam routine. Oh, and Missy Peregrym is hot.
ARS: Yes, you really missed out on the Sacramone action during the Olympics. Almost all of my visitors were searching for her girl parts. So... I did gymnastics for years as a kid. I'll admit that. But I can't say I've seen Stick It. Missy Peregrym is hot, I'll give you that; plus, it has the hot hostess from "Waiting."... But a hip hop balance beam routine? Is this like Save the Last Gymnast? I'll spot you this one, and put it on my list of things to watch, right between "Godfather Part II" and "Raging Bull."

The Sandlot: ARS: Wendy Freakin Peffercorn. And baseball. And George Herman Ruth. And fireworks. And James Earl Jones. And "You're killing me Smalls."
Joshlos: All I'm sayin' is that if I had a baseball autographed by Babe Ruth, and I had kids in the house, that bad boy would be locked up where the kids couldn't get to it. But a solid choice... I think a lot of guys can remember back to when they were that age and played neighborhood baseball, even if they didn't have a true sandlot. The movie captures a lot of that experience, right down to the part about losing baseballs in yards with dogs.


Wildcard:
Hardball: ARS: Keanu Reeves' finest acting performance. I only say that with a hint of sarcasm. Keanu plays a dude with a gambling problem who is forced to coach a team of misfit black kids (I'm beginning to send that the only way misfit kids get coached is if a white guy develops a drinking problem or gets arrested for banging a hooker). A little kid gets shot and dies-- DIES!-- in this movie (spoiler much?), and they play my all-time favorite rap song, "Big Poppa" over and over. It's heartwarming, and Diane Lane's fine cougar self is in it.

To discuss males fantasizing about Tom Brady's passing stats

Fantasy Football.
It’s a funny-sounding phrase, isn’t it? As if visions of Tom Brady floating on marshmallow clouds flutter around in the minds of grown men. Well, actually, that part’s true. Except Ladainian Tomlinson is up there, too. Wearing rainbow-colored suspenders. Oh, LT. I love you and your guaranteed 15 touchdowns.
Ladies, I wish there’s a simply explanation why your man spends more time looking up Peyton Manning’s touchdown-to-interception ratio than he does looking down your shirt.
There are some guys I know who would outright turn down a night with their girlfriend so they can watch 10 NFL games at once and calculate live stats. In the words of Jay from 40 Year-Old Virgin, that’s putting the football on the pedestal.
But, here’s the thing.
Fantasy football is fun.
I mean, real (fake) fun.
I spent 3-plus hours on Saturday drafting my fantasy team online. Three. I didn't move from my chair for three hours so I could look up stats, scout players and analyze draft picks in the hope that I might win a league that doesn't matter to anyone but the 12 guys participating. If it would have been possible, I would have worn an adult diaper so as to avoid any need to leave my computer. The fantasy football draft is basically a late summer Christmas, without all of the unnecessary gift-giving and holiday cheer. It's nothing but gift-receiving, and those gifts are wide receivers, quarterbacks and tight ends.
Man, it was sweet.
I’m probably a mid-level fantasy footballer. I’ve played for a few years in a competitive league where you gotta put down money and there’s a pot (money, not weed) for the winner. I check my team’s performance regularly, I keep an eye on all the games, although not at the sake of other facets of life. Once in a while, I catch myself saying absurd things like, “Ben Roethlisberger really needs to play well for me today. I need him to throw two touchdowns.” As if I own him.
Oh, that’s right.
Cause I do! On a fantasy team, for those who don’t know, you “draft” NFL players to fill out a roster. You get points based on how those players perform. So when your boyfriend (or girlfriend- I know some women who play and do really well) has a team, they’re checking all Sunday to see how “his” players did.
I like it because instead of just rooting for one team (like, say, the Steelers and their awesomeness), I can have interest in all the games. It's the only reason I'd ever watch the Arizona Cardinals or Atlanta Falcons. Actually, I'm not sure that even people living in Arizona or Atlanta watch those teams.
Fantasy football also gives us a sense of connection with other dudes, because we can talk about how our teams are doing, what trades we’re making, what place we’re in, all while scratching ourselves and growing chest hair (I’ve got three so far!*).
I know that for most of you ladies this all seems a bit childish and makes little sense. I mean, it’s fantasy, right? Not something that actually matters.
Well it does, and here’s why. The guys who play fantasy football don’t play in the NFL. We’re not real athletes. We’re never going to get on TV for making the winning touchdown pass or get caught organizing an illegal dog fighting ring.** The closest we can get to gridiron glory is online.
I’m not denying we're all a bunch of nerds. We definitely are. Just understand that if we could trade in a fantasy championship for a Super Bowl championship, we would in a second. Then you could find a new thing to get mad at us for... like looking down your shirt.
* Chest hairs, not testicles.
** Ok, that was just the Falcon's Mike Vick. When I read what he did to those dogs, I had to google "rape stand." Look it up. It'll make you sick. It's basically a way to keep the female dog in place while she gets raped by a male dog. Not cool, Mike Vick. Not cool.