Game 6

Last night I watched Game 6, a movie I had never heard of until I read Don DeLillo's entry at Wikipedia. It deals with a playwright, played by Michael Keaton, who has life-long been obsessed with the Red Sox. It just so happens that his latest play is opening on the same night of game six of the 1986 World Series. The writer skips his own opening to go watch the game in a bar. Keaton's ability to run down a team (and hence himself, for always cheering for them) makes him the actor who could best potray the futility of rooting for a team who continually lets you down. His ongoing misery and its accompanying sarcasm is remarkable:

"Twenty-four game winner pitches seven solid innings. They scratch out a one-run lead. (Shrugs) Of course he gets a blister."

"Sure. Of course you put Greenwell up when you got Baylor on the bench!"

"Of course Greenwell strikes out!"

The movie clocks in at under ninety minutes. Solid.