Afternoon Baseball

I'm watching "Meet John Doe," a movie I should love: It's directed by the amazing Frank Capra, whose box set I own, stars Barbara Stanwyck, a candidate for greatest actress ever, and Gary Cooper, the man who brought Lou Gehrig to life and shamed Adam Sandler's attempt to imitate his Mr. Deeds. It's also a journalism-heavy movie, making it far more exciting than it actually is.

I like it but don't love it; Capra is retreading "Mr. Deeds Goes To Town" and not quite reaching the fall-from-grace-and-redemption cycle of "It's A Wonderful Life." Stanwyck is sex personified without trying (her "Hello, John," about an hour in is the dirtiest innocent hello ever), but she's too calm around Cooper, always portrayed as an Adonis. She's doing nothing wrong, but I think the idolizing (Theresa Wright) or skittish (Jean Arthur) work best with Cooper.

But what struck me is a moment about 45 minutes in: Cooper's character, a washed-up pitcher, talked about the injury that sidelined him, led to him being basically a hobo. He's been drafted into this con that Stanwyck devised to avoid a layoff -- a mythical "John Doe," who threatens suicide as a statement against the greed, selfishness and abandonment of everyman values so prominent in Capra films.
It's a scam, though, one devised by classic Capra villain Edward Arnold.

Cooper talks of getting his health and his career back after this gig -- he's so naive to the consequences and the true plot. His friend says, " Well, I was just thinking about this John Doe business. Why, as soon as it comes out it's all a fake, you'll be washed up in baseball, won't you?

Back then, a dishonest man couldn't be in baseball -- at least, a man known to be dishonest -- because baseball was a game of heroes, of idols.

It's not that way now, not for most, and maybe it's a good thing. Baseball players aren't everymen, and heroes they needn't be. In fact, in today's cutthroat, competitive environment, the biggest jerks need to be so to excel. It's a contradiction that one can perhaps reconcile, but surely not admire.

One of the closest people we have to that may be Derek Jeter. But it's a qualified endorsement -- we admire his hustle, his dedication to effort and drive to win. We don't know his personal life -- we just know that we don't know much. Because these days, it seems when we learn something personal, it's bad.

Our heroes are safe. It still counts for something, just not as much.

But baseball is still idyllic. And it was tonight, and it will be tomorrow when the Yanks take the field and it will be throughout this month. It's not a path to finding a hero, but it is a path to letting the child within us find enjoyment. Let's take the first step along that path.