Crash Davis, Revisited
As I was mounting the shelf brackets in our laundry room the other day, I had the laptop perched on top of the washer that I had pushed out of the way, so that I could watch Bull Durham while I worked. I had gotten the movie through Netflix and L. and I probably weren't going to watch it together. I had added a few sports movies to our queue in part because of teaching the sports journalism class in the spring.
It's interesting to me now, to see the movie again. I don't think I fully comprehended it when I first watched it. I saw it's comedy, mostly. What I remember are scenes like Kevin Costner's character, the veteran catcher, telling his hard-throwing pitcher, played by Tim Robbins, to hit the bull mascot. But this time through I think the theme of frustration and lost dreams hit me. Costner's Crash Davis, wanting to walk out after hearing that he'd been called to the Single A Bulls to help mentor a hotshot pitcher with a control problem. Twelve years in the minors and he's been reduced to a glorified babysitter. He says he quits, walks out of the manager's room, and curses at himself. The truth is, it's like the manager told him. Playing for the Bulls is getting paid to show up at the ball field every day. He knows he can't walk out on that life. It's the only one he knows. What else will he do? So he comes back in and asks when batting practice is the next day.
Davis says, "I'm too old for this." But he's in his early 30s. I'm about to turn 40. There's something to the "last hurrah" narrative of Bull Durham. Davis' character is the veteran catcher who's been around the block. He's successful as a hitter because he knows the mind games of baseball, knows the tendencies of the younger players around him. But he was only good enough to make the big leagues for 21 days. At this late stage of his career, he knows he's not going back. He knows he had his shot. But he can't give up. But it pisses him off when the golden boy, "Nuke" Laloosh, gets called up, because he has a million dollar arm but no appreciation for the game. The scene near the end of the movie, where Davis is drinking in a pool hall owned by another former minor league great, and ends up picking a fight with Laloosh out of frustration, shows the bitter side of Davis' character. He knows the end, for him, is coming. Once Laloosh is called up, he's no longer necessary. The team drops him. He goes over to Asheville to play out the season, hitting his minor league record home run and then hanging up his cleats for good.
The redemptive part of the story is the romance with Annie, played by Susan Sarandon. He resents her for choosing Laloosh over him, but he's also intimidated by her. They are equals, older and wiser than the other ballplayers. Going back to Annie is for Davis a way of growing up, moving on, accepting who he is. That's a good message.
It's interesting to me now, to see the movie again. I don't think I fully comprehended it when I first watched it. I saw it's comedy, mostly. What I remember are scenes like Kevin Costner's character, the veteran catcher, telling his hard-throwing pitcher, played by Tim Robbins, to hit the bull mascot. But this time through I think the theme of frustration and lost dreams hit me. Costner's Crash Davis, wanting to walk out after hearing that he'd been called to the Single A Bulls to help mentor a hotshot pitcher with a control problem. Twelve years in the minors and he's been reduced to a glorified babysitter. He says he quits, walks out of the manager's room, and curses at himself. The truth is, it's like the manager told him. Playing for the Bulls is getting paid to show up at the ball field every day. He knows he can't walk out on that life. It's the only one he knows. What else will he do? So he comes back in and asks when batting practice is the next day.
Davis says, "I'm too old for this." But he's in his early 30s. I'm about to turn 40. There's something to the "last hurrah" narrative of Bull Durham. Davis' character is the veteran catcher who's been around the block. He's successful as a hitter because he knows the mind games of baseball, knows the tendencies of the younger players around him. But he was only good enough to make the big leagues for 21 days. At this late stage of his career, he knows he's not going back. He knows he had his shot. But he can't give up. But it pisses him off when the golden boy, "Nuke" Laloosh, gets called up, because he has a million dollar arm but no appreciation for the game. The scene near the end of the movie, where Davis is drinking in a pool hall owned by another former minor league great, and ends up picking a fight with Laloosh out of frustration, shows the bitter side of Davis' character. He knows the end, for him, is coming. Once Laloosh is called up, he's no longer necessary. The team drops him. He goes over to Asheville to play out the season, hitting his minor league record home run and then hanging up his cleats for good.
The redemptive part of the story is the romance with Annie, played by Susan Sarandon. He resents her for choosing Laloosh over him, but he's also intimidated by her. They are equals, older and wiser than the other ballplayers. Going back to Annie is for Davis a way of growing up, moving on, accepting who he is. That's a good message.