Former exotic dancer Rachel Phelps (Margaret Whitton) is left as the new owner of the Cleveland Indians after the old owner died. She wants to move the team to Miami. The team has a lease with the city that has an escape clause if the attendance falls below 800,000. So she has gathered a team of the worst scrap heap players that she can find.

It is so refreshing to have a real MLB team name. The team has such a brilliant chemistry. The standout is Charlie Sheen as Wild Thing, but everybody is an unique character. Dennis Haysbert is amazing as voodoo using Cuban Cerrano. Tom Berenger is the worn out veteran. Even Wesley Snipes is funny back then when he was actually good. The best word to describe this movie is fun.

If this film were made today it would probably be hit with charges of insensitivity and racism against Native American Indians, and I'm trying to think back to when things got so hyper regarding political correctness that you were made to feel guilty about things like the national pastime. This one, led by Bob Uecker, manages to hit all the clichés about redskins, featherheads, tomahawks and going 'off the reservation', but you know what - it's a funny flick and a blast for fans of the game. Granted, it makes use of all the clichés and has the most predictable of plots but the fun is in seeing how the hapless Cleveland Indians overcome their circumstances and become American League Champs. I'm probably not alone in picking the 'Wild Thing' sequence as my favorite part of the picture, coming at just the right time to vault the team to glory in their single playoff game. Every actor here is cast perfectly for their role, and if I had to pick a favorite, it would probably be James Gammon as crusty manager Lou Brown who pulls the team together for that final victory to the dismay of team owner Rachel Phelps (Margarter Whitton). I'd have to go along with Uecker here, and give "Major League" a big wahoo.

This is one of the cleverest predictable movies of all time, and for my taste the best baseball movie. A great cast, an underdog plot, and one memorable choice after another by the writers and director make this a valentine to the foot soldiers of our national pastime. (Remember, this was 15 years ago.)

The fabulous scoreboard, the hysterical radio play-by-play of Bob Uecker, even the motley occupants of Cleveland sports bars are irresistible hooks to reel us in, after we've been hooked by the motley team of colorful has-beens and never-were's. If this is a formula, it's the right one. I deeply love this movie, and regret not having seen it in its theatrical run. (I've seen it a dozen times since.) I'm sure the audience went wild during that climactic Yankees game! How about that Dorn making a bunch of clutch plays! Didn't you love Cerrano carrying his bat around the bases with him? Jake not dusting off, and pointing, twice...man, I wish I'd been there.

Then there's the little insert, early in the story, about Jake's fantasy of hitting the winning run out of the park. What happened instead when the chips were really down?

Okay, it isn't "poetry" -- it's more of a limerick, know what I mean? Just start with three words: "There once was...." and finish it yourself! I bet you'll finish with a big smile on your face!