The movie I
decided to watch again, after noticing that every available movie I had already
seen, was Sandlot, which in my opinion has to be one of the greatest films of
all time. The film centers around a bunch of misfit kids that spend nearly
every waking minute playing baseball. Unfortunately, they only have 8 players
until Scottie Smalls moves into the neighborhood and is invited to play by
Benny “The Jet” Rodriguez. After proving that he is coachable and given the nod
by Squnitz, he joins their sandlot team During one of the so called practices
that Benny was leading they went into some batting practice and Benny hit the
ball so hard that he knocked the covering off the ball. After realizing that
they didn’t have enough money to buy a new ball Smalls tells the boys that he
has a spare ball at home. However, it wasn’t just any spare baseball, it
happened to be a baseball signed by a man known by many different names: the
Sultan of Swat, the Colossus of Clout, the King of Crash, the Great Bambino, or
as most people know him as… BABE RUTH! Unfortunately, Smalls didn’t know who he
was and the rest of the team didn’t look close enough at the baseball before
Smalls stepped up to bat and crushed a monstrous home run that flew into old
man Murtle’s backyard, the meanest old man that ever lived. Most people would
have just jumped the fence to retrieve a ball but in this case there was no way
they could do that because the backyard was patrolled by “The Beast,” a
junkyard dog that, according to Squnitz, is responsible for killing any and all
trespassers. The rest of the movie is the 9 trying to get the ball back without
attempting to physically enter the backyard. They give it three attempts with
different strategies and all three fail at the last second, keeping the ball
the beast’s possession. Eventually Benny decides that the only and last option
is to pickle the beast by jumping the fence, retrieving the ball and jumping
back over, and it would of worked too had the beast not broke his chain and ran
through the fence. Benny then leads the beast on a wild chase throughout the
city that eventually ended back at the lot where they started. In the end fence
fell on the beast trapping him underneath until Smalls and Benny lifted the
fence off of him and freeing the beast. The movie ends on a high note when Mr.
Murtle gives Smalls a replacement ball, the Murders Row ball, which contains
Babe Ruth’s signature along with multiple other Hall of Fame baseball players.
Throughout
the film the writers do a good job of creating realistic middle school
stereotypes that, although can be exaggerated at times, tend to reflect middle school pretty well. One that I noticed early on is when Squintz immediately does not
want Smalls to play ball with them because he wasn’t very good when given a couple
opportunities. Middle schoolers can be quick to judge and the athletic ones
especially don’t want anything to do with kids that are not athletic when it
comes to sports. Another stereotype I observed comes when the boys try chew for
the first time. This portrays that middle school kids enjoy experimenting at
this age, which in many cases is accurate, however, the level of
experimentation varies. Lastly, one final stereotype I noticed is the rivalry
and disdain that middle school kids may have for other social groups or those
form different schools. This comes into play during the scene when Ham faces
off in an insult match against a kid from a different, well funded, baseball
team. Kids may not go to the extreme to insult and belittle other kids of different
ability levels or socioeconomic backgrounds, but they will sometimes tend to
avoid and stay away from them. Unfortunately, I would have to say I was more of
a Yea-Yea kid in middle school. I tended to go along with what others said and
did without truly thinking for myself. You see throughout the movie that
Yea-Yea tends to just go with what the popular opinion is at the time,
regardless of the consequences or if it seems right or wrong. I was that kid. I
enjoyed going with the flow and avoiding having to think for myself. Something
I absolutely regret about my childhood when I look back and reflect on who I
was then and who I am now.
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