Mavericks of baseball
THE Battered Bastards of Baseball is a completely unexpected Netflix treat, on a sports story I knew nothing about. In the early-1970s, ex-Hollywood everyman Bing Russell (dad to Kurt) was upset that his beloved home town of Portland had been left without a professional baseball team by the vagaries of the system. So, he started one himself. As you would.
The Portland Mavericks – the name was well-deserved – turned the league on its head by winning games against bigname franchise-feeder clubs, shattering attendance records and carving out an instant reputation for being the bad boys and the nice guys of American probaseball. Soon enough, the little club that could was attracting media attention and becoming a feel-good story in a sports world too often dominated by cash and cynicism.
The Battered Bastards of Baseball isa terrific way to spend an hour or so. If
you’re a sports movie fan at all, you’ll love it.
And to all those numpties who hold down radio shows and newspaper columns who have adopted ‘‘diversity’’ as some sort of sneering put-down, this film is a hilarious riposte.
The Mavericks decided early that anyone who was worth a go, got a go, regardless of gender, background or ethnicity.
Pretty soon, they had an all-woman management team and the first Asian players in the league. And they beat the hell out of the bigger and better-funded establishment teams every damn day they played.
Every sports team and every organisation could learn something from the story of The Portland Mavericks: you do it for the players and the fans. Or else, why are you here?
Also, if it’s not fun, you’re just not doing it right. All I want now is for someone to make a film on the Brooklyn Cyclones. . .
And, to carry on this week’s theme of
The Real Inglorious Bastards
bastards of all stripes,
is a well put together one-hour film on the excellent iwonder.com platform
– which at less than $40 for a year’s membership seems like a bargain – on a nearly forgotten World War II operation that yielded ridiculous results and also inspired Quentin Tarantino’s bloody epic.
The idea of Jewish-American commandos parachuting back into occupied Europe to wreak havoc behind the German lines was based on the real Operation Greenup.
The exploits of Frederick Mayer and his gang of misfits were every bit as incredible and pretty much as unbelievable as those of Brad Pitt and co in Tarantino’s movie.
No, (spoiler!) they didn’t manage to assassinate Hitler, but Mayer did receive the surrender of the German forces in Innsbruck, despite being only a sergeant, a Jew and still technically a prisoner of war.
It’s a brilliant and convoluted tale that adds up to an engrossing wee film.