Let’s go steal some of your dead girlfriend’s blankets.
The Battery is a zombie movie from 2012 about two lone baseball players trying to survive the apocalypse.
In baseball parlance, a battery refers to the pitcher/catcher duo working in a game. In this case, instead of trying to survive the heart of a lineup without giving up a run, they’re trying to survive the end of the world without dying.
It’s really impressive what writer-director-star Jeremy Gardner was able to do with a $6000 budget. Yes, you read that correctly, they made this movie for $6000!
I didn’t love the movie, but there’s plenty to appreciate — especially as it’s the product of such a small production. Gardner gave a solid performance as Ben, the catcher. He’s the guy who actually got his hands dirty and kept them alive, but he’d definitely gone a bit insane by the time the film’s narrative begins. Gardner’s performance carried the moments that landed with me. But his directorial style was the highlight of the film. It didn’t always work, but when it did it, it did to great effect. He used long takes of the two leads, shot with a fixed camera. It captured them doing normal shit or sitting around in silence. It reminded me just how fucking boring the zombie apocalypse would be — in-between zombie attacks of course. It’d be like Covid-19 times a billion. You’re not stuck at home video-chatting with your friends, because they’re all dead. Not to mention the fact that there’d be no internet or cell phones.
Is The Battery going to be added to my film canon to watch over and over? No. But I’m still glad to have checked it out. And I wouldn’t have known it existed without the research I did for this series.
Up next: Speaking of the baseball film canon, next up is The Natural. It’s available on Netflix.
“One long ball hitter, that’s what we need! I’d sell my soul for one long ball hitter.”
Damn Yankees is a 1958 musical about a middle-aged Washington Senators fan who makes a deal with the devil in order to become a 22-year-old power hitter; making a Faustian bargain to help the basement-dwelling team he loves win the pennant.
I like a good musical, but I could take or leave Damn Yankees.
I mean, it wasn’t without its moments. Most notably, “Who’s Got the Pain” was the first onscreen pairing of Bob Fosse and Gwen Verdon (they met on preproduction of the Broadway version — Fosse choreographed — which led to their epic and troubled collaboration and marriage). Verdon’s performance with Fosse is great, but the Verdon-led dance number for “Two Lost Souls” is easily my favorite part of the movie.
Culturally, its biggest lasting impact is the song, “Whatever Lola Wants,” and to a much lesser degree, “You’ve Gotta Have Heart.”
One thing I learned working on this post is that there was a Broadway revival in 2008 starring 30 Rock‘s Jane Krakowski (Jenna) and Cheyenne Jackson (Danny) as Lola and Joe. I wish I’d seen their performances — especially because, unlike Tab Hunter, Jackson is a broadway star who can actually sing and dance.
Next Up:The Battery, a zombie movie about a former pitcher and catcher trying to survive after the apocalypse. It’s available on Prime Video if you want to join in.
“The separate single-season home run records remained until 1991, when Fay Vincent, the commissioner of baseball, ordered that there be only one record. Roger Maris died six years earlier, never knowing that the record belonged to him.”
Baseball is a game of myths. It’s full of heroes, gods, and legends; villains, scapegoats, and fools. It’s a game played in the dirt by frail, imperfect, ordinary men, but it’s transcendent in the imagination of American history. Early baseball writing had as much in common with Homeric epic as it did with modern sports writing.
Within that context, the story of Roger Maris and Mickey Mantle’s 1961 chase of Babe Ruth’s single season home run record is the ballad of a hero, but it’s a tragic ballad all the same.
So, perhaps it’s fitting that 61* is more a lionization of Maris and Mantle than it is a measured telling of the events of that remarkable season. Maris was unfairly villainized at the time, so getting the hero’s treatment now is well-deserved, albeit far too late.
Maris was a quiet, hard-working player who was ostracized because he played for the New York Yankees without media-savvy or star power. He had the audacity to break a record set by one of the consensus greatest and most beloved players of all time — many would say the greatest. And even more, he was attempting the feat in competition with his friend and teammate, and perhaps the most beloved Yankee of all time, Mickey Mantle.
By all accounts, Maris was a good man, and he played his ass off. From 1960-1966, while playing for the most celebrated team in the world, he won back to back MVP awards and a gold glove, led the league in RBIs twice, made 3 all-star teams, and helped the Yankees win two World Series titles. Yet, during the chase for the record, he was excoriated by writers, and reviled by fans — to the extent that he regularly received death threats. He was also ignored by the MLB throughout the home run chase, another example of the institution of baseball harming the game in the name of saving its so-called purity.
He wasn’t a bad guy, but the baseball world felt he wasn’t the “right” guy to break such a hallowed record (one that was considered unbreakable until then). Mantle is one of the greatest and most charismatic players in history, the sort of hero fans felt deserved to play for the world’s most famous team. The idea that he’d be bested by a boring, ordinary guy who just wanted to play baseball and didn’t like talking to the media was, apparently, unforgivable. Fans and writers wanted their myth, they wanted a demigod to break Ruth’s record, and they found Maris lacking.
Of course, in the act of breaking it, Maris proved he was the right guy to break the record. There are no prerequisites for greatness aside from achieving it. The record he set that year stood until the steroid era, 37 years later.
61* certainly has its weaknesses — for example, the scenes set in 1998 are cringe-worthy. Yet, overall, it’s well worth a watch, and the performances by Barry Pepper and Tom Jane as Maris and Mantle are the highlight of the film. Billy Crystal, who directed, is a huge, lifelong Yankees fan who turned 13 just before the 1961 season started, so he isn’t exactly impartial. His nostalgic affection for both players certainly shows in the finished film, but maybe the result is exactly the sort of glorification the legacy of Roger Maris deserves.
Next up:Damn Yankees, the first of two baseball musicals I’ll be watching throughout the month.
If Dock’s pitching you know he’s high. How high is he?
[[Okay, I know the first three posts for this series were long reads, but I promise that most are going to be much shorter. I also feel the need to point out that shorter posts don’t mean I enjoyed the movies less, I just didn’t have as much to say.]]
Dock Ellis is the guy who pitched a no-hitter on LSD.
That’s the sort of insane baseball anecdote that becomes a legend in itself. His life was obviously far larger than just that one moment, but when you perform one of the rarer feats in sports while tripping on acid, that’s bound to become the headline for your life story.
No No obviously gets into the details of that crazy game, but it focuses far more on the rest of Dock’s life.
Ellis was famous in his day. He was one of the best pitchers in the game when baseball was still king of American sports, which guaranteed you at least minor celebrity status.
He was an outspoken, intelligent, media-savvy Black man in the 60s and 70s, a time when Black players were expected to keep their mouths shut and do their jobs. (It’s refreshing that the sports landscape is so different today. That players of color are seen as full human people, encouraged to speak their minds when something matters to them… wait, nope, check that; it’s still the same bullshit.)
For real though, the guy was even better at playing the media than he was at playing baseball, and he was really good at baseball. If you get a hand-written letter from Jackie Robinson telling you how important you are to the game, you’re definitely doing something right.
It’s a tragedy that we never got to see what his story might have looked like if his addictions hadn’t controlled his life for so long. Fortunately, his story continued after he entered recovery.
No No is a great documentary about a fascinating, flawed man. It keeps the streak rolling as the third film in a row that I’d highly recommend. It’s included with an Amazon Prime subscription, or at least it is at the time of publishing this.
Next up:61*, the story of the 1961 race between Yankee teammates Roger Maris and Mickey Mantle, as each tries to break Babe Ruth’s record of 60 home runs hit in a single season. It’s an HBO original film, thus, you can find it on HBO if you want to join in.
“When I think about the Mavericks, I don’t really think much about baseball. I think about those guys. I think about those characters, and the fact that they enjoyed themselves more than I’d ever seen grown men enjoy themselves. I remember thinking, I hope I feel that way when I grow up. And that was as profound a guiding light as I would ever get.”
— Writer-Director-Actor Todd Field, former batboy for the Portland Mavericks
What would the Mavericks do?
When it comes to guiding principles to live by, we could all do much worse.
That’s my main takeaway from the second movie on this month-long journey through baseball cinema. The Battered Bastards of Baseball is a documentary telling the unlikely story of the Portland Mavericks, an independent baseball team who won the affection of their city, and the attention of the nation, from 1973-1977. The film is in turns funny, moving, joyful, and heartbreaking, with a few surprises along the way. [For example, did you know that without the Mavericks, we wouldn’t have Big League Chew?! I sure didn’t!]
The team was created by actor Bing Russell, although you’re probably more familiar with Bing’s son, actor and former Portland Maverick, Kurt Russell. Initially considered a joke by local media, as well as the baseball community as a whole, the Mavericks were made up entirely of players who had been been rejected by MLB-affiliated clubs. Many were in their mid-30s (well past baseball prime). Most of them had never played any level of professional baseball in their lives, and the majority weren’t taken seriously as athletes of any sort. It was a foregone conclusion that the team didn’t belong in professional competition. None of that stopped them from shocking the baseball world. They went on to be featured in national sports coverage on television and in print. Even until today, that’s an otherwise unprecedented feat for a low-A baseball team.
When the call was posted, men came out of the woodwork to try out for the Mavericks. They did so for the same reason Russell created the team: because they loved baseball beyond all rational sense. These men dropped everything else in their lives for the chance to play the lowest possible level of professional baseball. They knew there was no chance they’d be called up to play at a higher level, no prospect of a big payday, and no guarantee the team would even exist in a month’s time. Yet, they loaded onto busses and road-tripped and hitchhiked their ways across the country. Many sold all their stuff, leaving behind their jobs, homes, and safety nets for the outside chance someone would let them play organized baseball.
It’s also fucking beautiful.
Oh, to be more like these lunatics, who played and lived with joyful abandon, giving everything they could for the opportunity to do what they cared about above all else. To be more like these men who played recklessly, always at full tilt, because they loved the game so goddamned much. They knew they had nothing to lose, and they played like it.
That’s the way to live a life.
As it turned out, this attitude resulted in the Mavericks beating the shit out of the MLB-affiliated teams they weren’t deemed worthy to share a field with. The way they approached life, as a team, created a magic that inspired all of Portland to fall in love. It’s why they drew crowds far larger than any other team in minor league baseball, at any level. The Portland Mavericks were a party, and the whole world was invited.
Tragically, the team was soon torn down by Major League Baseball. The magic was snuffed out by institutional gatekeepers who refused to let the game be something new and unfamiliar. A team outside organizational control, made up of players who had no reason to obey the unwritten rules and color inside arbitrary lines, was seen as a threat. Not to mention the fact that said gatekeepers had been humiliated by the Mavericks, shown up by a team they’d dismissed out of hand. So, using unfair laws pertaining to the game, the MLB shut the team down. [Side note: I’m looking at some of the films ahead of me this month. This institutional rigidity, and abuse in the name of protecting the game’s purity, is a theme that I’ll revisit in greater detail as this whole thing progresses.]
All that to say, you should absolutely watch this movie. Even if you don’t like baseball, it’s a great way to spend 80 minutes.
I loved it, and I hope there’s still some of that Maverick magic left. Maybe a little might rub off on me.
[The Battered Bastards of Baseball is available on Netflix. Which, of course, you already knew, because you used your JustWatch app.]
Next Movie: Next up, we’ll double down on documentaries with No No: A Dockumentary. It’s the story of Dock Ellis, the man best known for pitching a no-hitter while high on LSD.
The Sandlot is the most fitting way for me to get started, because the movie changed my life. That’s not hyperbole, just simple fact. My life has genuinely been different since the year it was released.
It didn’t change my life because it fanned the burgeoning flame of my undying love for baseball, although it certainly did that.
It didn’t change my life because, as a young viewer, it made me feel like I’d actually joined this lovable gang of knuckleheads, with Benny the Jet taking me under his wing. Although it definitely did.
Nor did it change my life because the film so perfectly captures the joy at the heart of the game. Of course, it does. It illustrates the fact that baseball is beautiful purely for the sake of itself, even when played in boundless, day-long affairs with no score or opposition. Like so many movies, books, and poems about the sport, it reminds us that baseball isn’t just about baseball, it’s also about life in general. That’s definitely my favorite thing about The Sandlot, but it isn’t the reason it changed my life.
No, the reason The Sandlot changed my life is far simpler and more obvious than that:it’s because the writers decided to name their lead character Scotty Smalls.
Since The Sandlot was released in 1993 — the day before I turned 11 — I’ve henceforth been Smalls wherever I went. Even now, as people more often call me Scotty than Smalls, there is still a near-universal inability to get my name right. No matter how many times I say my name correctly, people still insist on adding a second s at the end of my last name.
I doubt I’ve ever gone more than two months without hearing someone deliver the immortal line first uttered by the Great Hambino, “You’re killing me, Smalls!” Fun fact, the line was reportedly improvised.
For the last 27 years, The Sandlot quite literally changed the way people speak to me, albeit less often as I get older.
Who knows, maybe it was destiny. It’s fitting that I’m forever linked to this film, because even watching it again at 37 years old, having seen it at least a dozen times before, I still love The Sandlot. Even though it’s been more than a decade since my last viewing, I still know all the lines, including their exact tone and cadence.
I’ve avoided the other family-oriented baseball movies I loved as a kid (Rookie of the Year, Little Big League, Angels in the Outfield), because I’m confident I’d think they are awful seen through adult eyes. I don’t want spoil the love I had for them as a child. But The Sandlot transcends that fear. It still captures the magic of summer vacation, and the way that baseball, for the initiated, will always be the heartbeat of summer.
The Sandlot changed my life, concretely and unequivocally, and I wouldn’t want to live in a world where it didn’t exist.
Next Up: We’ll head to the northwest for The Battered Bastards of Baseball, a documentary about the Portland Mavericks — a short-lived independent baseball team that captured the affection of Portland and the attention of the nation. It’s on Netflix, and I promise it’s a great way to spend 80 minutes even if you don’t like baseball.
Tomorrow is opening day, or at least it was meant to be. Instead, the start to the 2020 season has been added to the growing list of things cancelled or postponed due to Covid-19.
Let’s just say it’s not my favorite development.
On March 12th, the MLB quite responsibly made the call to cancel the remainder of spring training and postpone the start to the season at least two weeks, a timetable which was soon after extended indefinitely. Even with two full weeks to prepare myself, I’m still not ready. For the first time since the work stoppage in 1972, April will begin without baseball. Yet, unlike 1972, this year April will almost certainly come and go with ballparks across the country still empty.
Obviously, this is an infinitesimally small thing relative to the pain being suffered by so many. Perspective and empathy should be central in the midst of this global crisis. Still, the small things that matter to us don’t cease to matter, even if those things rightfully fail to measure on the richter scale of the world as a whole.
For me, baseball is the thing I would turn to in times like these as a balm for my troubled mind in the midst of anxiety and depression. From April to October, I always have baseball. The dailyness of baseball is one of the things I love most about it. It’s ever-present for two thirds of the year; whether front and center, or in the background, or merely available for me to follow rumors and news, then check box scores and recaps at the end of each day. Every single day, baseball is there. The game is a significant part of the pace and rhythm of my life for seven months — with the delightful prelude that is spring training adding an eighth month onto the front-end.
All that to say that the turn of the calendar from March into April without the inauguration of a new season matters to me.
And so, I was left to decide what I’d do to mitigate the impact of its absence as best I could. I came up with a twofold plan:
First, I decided to buy MLB: The Show 20 for PS4 and play entirely too much of it during my self-isolation. Easy.
It’s the second part of my plan that’s a bit more ambitious. Pointless, but ambitious just the same. I’ve decided to resurrect ‘Another Day, Another Movie**,’ by watching 30 baseball movies in 30 days. As always, I’ll be writing about each one here as I go. My rationale is that this combines my need for baseball content with my attempt at using this time stuck indoors to create a writing habit for the first time in years.
So, if you’re like me and carry a heavy heart at the prospect of a spring without baseball, join me in the hopes that these movies, while they certainly can’t replace a real season, might at least lessen the pain.
Starting tomorrow, and for the next 30 days, I’ll watch 30 preselected baseball movies. I’ll share thoughts, reactions, and/or memories for each entry. With each post, I’ll reveal the next day’s film, and invite you to watch alongside me — albeit from the safety of separate living rooms. To that end, the movie on the docket for opening day is The Sandlot.
I’ll also be throwing up some bonus content along the way, because we need all of the baseball we can get.
I love you baseball, please hurry home.
**If you’re unfamiliar, ‘Another Day, Another Movie’ is a series I’ve done over the years on this blog. I pick a genre or sub-genre of films I want to be more familiar with, then take a deep-dive by watching one related movie for every day over a set period of time. I do research to find films that are representative and/or significant for the genre, find outliers that have a cult following, and often watch peripheral films which heavily influenced or were influenced by the genre (e.g. watching samurai films during my 30 days of westerns.) This whole thing started with horror films, with the very first Halloween Movie Fest — an exercise that has been repeated many times. I’ve also done westerns, noir, time travel, and post-apocalypse.
Now that you’re using JustWatch for your movie and show viewing needs, it’s time to turn to books.
Let’s say that during your furlough, you’re in the mood to read; but maybe you don’t have any books around the house, or aren’t interested in reading the books you do have. Well, first, you should most definitely order books online from local independent bookstores. Like most small businesses, they’ll be hurting during this period. Do that first. Maybe order from my awesome neighborhood bookstore, Books are Magic. [Also, the previous text is a link. Unfortunately this wordpress theme is fucking terrible at making it clear text is a hyperlink. I need a new theme.]
Yet, much to my despair, most of us can’t afford to buy unlimited books. Thus, even after supporting independent bookstores, you may be looking for some free options. But there’s the rub, because in most localities, all library branches are closed. That’s where Libby or Overdrive come in. Either app will allow you to access the entire catalogue of audio and ebooks available through your library system, right on your phone.
Now, if you don’t have a library card, you probably can’t get one right now, as systems require you to physically go into a branch to get a card. So, unless your local library is making an exception while branches are closed, you’re unfortunately out of luck on the Libby/Overdrive front.
Maybe you can borrow a friend’s library card number to get you by in the meantime? I don’t know. It’s probably against the rules, and I actually don’t know if it would even work. Either way, don’t tell my wife, the librarian, I’m suggesting you try that. I’m not suggesting that at all. Just, you know, let’s say hypothetically someone without a library card wanted a Libby or Overdrive account, and let’s say, hypothetically, this person had a friend with a library card who doesn’t use Libby or Overdrive. Perhaps this person who wants an account could borrow their friend’s library card number to use Overdrive or Libby. That’s merely a thought experiment. I am in no way saying you should try that to see if it works. [Do it!]
Anyway, if you do have a library card, then Libby or Overdrive are the answer for all your audio and ebook needs. They are actually just two different interfaces for accessing the same system, as Libby is just an app Overdrive created to update their interface. Overdrive is still fully functional [I still use it, because I’m more fluent with how it works.] Either app will do the job.
Simply search for the title, series, or author you’re looking for. You’ll have immediate access to any available title, or be able to put yourself on a hold list if all the copies are already in use. [And yes, audio and ebooks still have a limited number of copies available.]
You can listen to audiobooks right in the app, and you can use the ebook reader of your choice — I use my Kindle app.
I won’t go into detail about all the features each app has, but if you have trouble, text me if you know me, or ask a question in the comments if you don’t. I promise that either I, or the librarian I’m married to, will answer all your questions.
Okay, first things first. What tools are we going to need as we attempt to survive the coming months of isolation?
Before entering the wilderness, the right tools are essential; and make no mistake, this is the wilderness. Many of us are entering unprecedented territory; a tangent, a liminal space, a time outside of time. Fear not, my friends, we will do battle with the isolation and emerge better for it.
Our mission is to survive being trapped in our homes for what looks like months without going entirely mad. So, like every movie ever made about a mission/quest/battle/adventure/journey/endeavor/etc., things always begin with a montage of our intrepid heroes arming themselves with the tools they’ll need to survive.
Over the next few posts, I will lay out the tools I’ll be using to survive my time sheltering in place.
First, the tl:dr version: You absolutely need to download the JustWatch app, figure out how to use it, and thank me later for helping you survive this insanity.
Also, this may seem like a commercial, but it’s not. I just love this app. Even before these crazy times, I still used it nearly every day.
With that out of the way, on to the full version:
Obviously, one of the main things we’re all going to do over the next few weeks, and perhaps months, is watch the fuck out of some movies and shows.
We’ll watch new-to-us stuff we’ve never gotten around to, and old favorites that offer the comfort we need in these supremely anxious times. We’ll watch powerful stories that challenge us and lift us up, and silly, mindless nonsense to help distract us from the chaos outside our doors; edifying high art, and delightful tripe we’ll pretend we don’t enjoy.
This is why we need the JustWatch app. It’s the first tool we’ll need in our quarantine utility belts. If you’re going to binge shows and movies at the end of the world, you’re going to need this app.
For the uninitiated, JustWatch is your one-stop-shop for finding out what you can watch on the streaming apps you have access to. It can also help you decide what to watch without surfing each streaming platform individually.
There are three primary ways to use JustWatch, all of which are going to be fucking clutch while you weather life in the time of Covid19.
1. Scroll Through Everything Available on Every Streaming Platform You Have
Once you download the JustWatch app, or visit the site on your browser, you get to highlight all of your streaming apps. After that, you can find a selection of any and all movies waiting for you on those apps. Chances are, you’ll find a bunch of titles you had no idea you had access to.
Choose your platforms, click on the ‘popular’ button, and just like that you’ll be able to see just how much is there at your fingertips to edify or distract yourself indefinitely.
Left unfiltered, the ‘popular’ button shows you everything available, prioritized by what other people are into right now. But be assured that you don’t have to scroll far to skip past the obvious stuff and get into the deep cuts.
As helpful as that can be when you have no idea what you want to watch, the even better option is to add filters to help you discover something you’re actually in the mood for without scrolling through every movie or show in existence.
If you only want to be shown films released over the last two years, you can do that. Want to explore shows but limit the genre to comedy? You can do that, too. Action films from the 80s? Go for it. Westerns released in 1975? Yes, you can get that specific.
Or you can keep the field relatively wide. Not positive what you’re in the mood for, but know what you’re definitely not in the mood for? Just click the filters for any type of movie or show you maybe want to watch, while excluding those you aren’t interested in. This will show you anything related to your preferred genres.
When you see something you’re interested in, just click the icon to visit a page that shows you where to stream the title. This page also features a synopsis, a trailer, cast and crew details, and a Rotten Tomatoes score. You can also see a score based on the opinions of JustWatch users and the IMDB user score, but you should ignore those because most people are fucking idiots.
2. Start a Watchlist to Create a Personalized Version of the Feature Above
As you’re scrolling through the massive list of options available using the first method, you’ll probably notice a bunch of titles you’re not in the mood for tonight, but know you’ll want to watch eventually. That’s where the ‘watchlist’ comes in. As you scroll, you can click a little bookmark on each icon. This will add that title to a list you can access separately. Later, simply open the app, go to your watchlist, and get all the features of the ‘popular’ tab, but limited to films you’ve saved for later. Now you can see all the stuff you’ve already shown interest in that is available for you to stream right now.
3. Search Any Title You Can Think of to See Where It’s Available Right Now
This is, by a very large margin, the feature I use the most.
The search feature makes it so you can find out the ways to watch any title that pops into your head. Search a title, and JustWatch will show you all places you can watch it for free, as well as what it would cost to rent or purchase it on Amazon, OnDemand, Redbox, iTunes, etc.
In the mood to watch Into the Spider-Verse tonight? Boom, Netflix. — Moulin Rouge? HBO Go. — It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia? Hulu. — Shaun of the Dead? Starz. — Office Space? Well, unfortunately you’re going to have to pay for that one on the rental platform of your choice.
The first two features are a way to explore when you’re not sure what you want to watch. The search tab is the way to find out how to watch exactly what you have in mind. As I’m working on some of the upcoming posts for RtM, I’m using this feature constantly.
And there you have it: my vote for the most important tool you’ll need in your arsenal while you’re stuck at home. I hope it helps.
Friends, I’ve been training for self-isolation my entire life. Now, I’m here to put that training to work for you. I mean, let’s be real, I know I don’t write here very often anymore, but if there were ever a time for RtM, that time is now.
The vast majority of you are stuck in your homes indefinitely. In case you get bored in that time, I’ve got you covered. I’ll be here for the duration of the end of the world, bringing you all the unsolicited recommendations you kept not asking for again and again. There’s no need to ask, my friends. I know what you were really saying with your silence: you want all the recs I have to offer. Of course, that’s impossible, as all the recommendations I have bottled up in my movie/book/show-obsessed brain outnumber the posts I could ever get around to writing, but I vow to try and give you all that I can.
I mean, I’m also trapped in my apartment for the foreseeable future, so what the fuck else have I got to do? I can only clean my apartment and create amazing new organizational systems for my stuff like some sort of handsome organizational genius so many times.
Not that boredom will actually become an issue for me. Even with all the time in the world I will never get bored of watching movies, reading books, bingeing shows, and playing the video games I haven’t had time to play in years. Alas, my obsession with those things is the reason I started RtM in the first place, all those years ago. But with great power, comes great responsibility, so I’ll do my best to take this pointless superpower and put it to work for you in this time of need.