Victor Bloom MD
"For Love of the Game" comes at a timely time. It is world series time and sports fans across the nation are glued to the tube. Detroit's Sam Saimi's film is a baseball dream, one in which a certain familiarity with 'the game' adds to the enjoyment and drama, but even the few who don't care about the American Pastime can enjoy it. What brings the film especially close to us is that the home team is the Detroit Tigers. After "Bull Durham" and "Field of Dreams," this is Costner's third baseball movie.
This film is not about Detroit or Michigan. The game of baseball is America. There is nothing like it in the world, though it's been copied and imitated widely. (Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.) No foreign film-maker could have made this motion picture. On the surface, it is all about baseball, and about a particularly gifted pitcher who just happens to pitch for the Detroit Tigers. Underneath and between the lines he is in a classic identity-crisis. The superstar is growing old. He has pains from old injuries. He does not want to be seen going downhill. He does not want to be traded.
How is he to be remembered? He's already won several Cy Young awards and is in the Baseball Hall of Fame. He has been pitching ever since he was a child, and 19 years for the Tigers, never missing a game. He's 41, that dread age for him when realizes that from here on it's downhill. The Tigers also had a desultory season and their last game, which realistically won't count for much, is at the Yankee Stadium. The Yanks and the Tigers have long been rivals, with lots of intense feelings on both sides. Fans can be quite rude. Everywhere people are watching the game--- on TV, in bars and airports.
It's the seventh inning and the Tigers are ahead 1-0. The fans are beginning to notice the string of zeros on the scoreboard. So far Kevin Costner has pitched a perfect game. He has gotten everybody out, either by ground balls or pop flies or better yet, strikeouts. As everybody slowly realizes the magnitude of the situation, the tension heightens. He has six more outs to go with nobody getting on base to go down in history.
He is getting old, he is getting tired. His shoulder hurts, his arm goes numb. He's out there in front of 50,000 screaming fans--- initially detractors, but now, little by little, even Yankee fans are urging him on. They would like to be able to say that they were there when history was made. The film brings us to the intimacy of the thoughts and feelings of the aging pitcher, the candle burning down.
When he concentrates on getting the batter out, we see nuances of his emotional life, the details of his thought processes as he stands there, as if alone, on the mound. Pitch after pitch. Memory after memory. He takes time to look at the clouds, and talks to himself, the batter, and his catcher. Taking his time, the camera and plot are sometimes in slow motion. The camera work and soundtrack on the big screen with stadium seating make you feel like you are there, as never before.
The roar of the crowd disappears. Costner is in a zone where he shuts out all outside stimuli. We get down to the root of the contest, the pitcher versus the batter. Every pitch is weighty. Much goes into determining the pitch---the talents and deficits of the batter. Shall it be a fast ball, a change-up, a slider, a splitter--- down and out, high and inside? He has six more outs to get with nobody getting on base.
I will leave the movie to tell you the outcome, but the other real story is his personal life. His love-interest concludes, "you don't need me; you have baseball; I am not meant to be a 'groupie."' She is a serious woman who wants a commitment and to be his priority. She has been burnt before. She is wary. He loves her, he wants her, but baseball comes first.
When the game is over, and he has pitched his last game, he goes to his hotel room and sobs uncontrollably. His romance with baseball is over. Now he feels alone and mourns the loss of his love. To look back on a brilliant career in baseball is not enough, apparently.
What we see here is a common outcome for people who are overly involved in their work, gaining fame and fortune. Many end up lonely in their success.
The ancient Hebrews and Greeks stressed the concept of balance. For them it was passion and reason, body and mind, but for Freud the key balance, above and beyond these categories, are Love and Work. In this respect, Love means warm, involved and committed family relationships. Work means devotion to a career and a motivation to be the most or the best, or at least successful in the eyes of society.
Many successful people choose career success at the expense of their personal, family lives. "For Love of the Game" vividly demonstrates the struggle to choose one thing without giving up another, valued thing--- it this case a romance which could lead to a commitment that would be enduring.
The choices we make always exclude something else. We cannot have our cake and eat it too. So when we choose what is important in Love or Work, we must think what will be the longterm consequences of our choice. As we choose what is IN, what we want, how can we be sure that we are not leaving OUT something much more important?
The underlying conflict and resolution is at the heart of the film, and it is played out in a baseball arena. After the stadium is the airport. Do they go their separate ways or stay together?
Dr Bloom is Clinical Associate Professor of Psychiatry, Wayne State University School of Medicine. He is a member of the American Academy of Psychoanalysis and on the editorial board of the Wayne County Medical Society. He welcomes comments at his email address--- vbloom@comcast.net