Last night, I decided to drink. I had a crappy week, I was cranky as fuck, and goddamn if I didn't deserve a few margaritas. So I had them. I made a pitcher and I drank it myself. Yeah. Might have wanted to share some of that, Jen, but no. So I watched the Apprentice, argued the 'who would you do' question of Catherine Zeta-Jones vs. Tom Hanks (CZJ is a cold fish, people, and I don't care how "beautiful" she is), and then retired for the evening. Sleep was quick and blissful. Until 4 a.m. At which point, I was awoken by my mind's decision to blog about the best (and worst) baseball movies ever. Baseball? Sure, I was contemplating the Sox a lot yesterday, but since when do I dream about baseball? And blogging baseball no less?
All that aside, my list of best baseball movies was topped by Bull Durham. That's all I can remember in terms of rank, but I also kept reminding myself (in my dream) to not forget The Natural, Field of Dreams, and Eight Men Out. And there was some debate about whether or not Major League made it onto the best or worst list. (C'mon, Wild Thing? You gotta love it.)
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