I watched Gladiator again last night because on Sunday night (in a rerun) Russell Crowe was on “Inside the Actor’s Studio” with James Lipton. When talking about the movie, he said that basically they made up the script as they went along. When they started shooting the movie they only had 32 pages of actual script and when they ran out they just started making crap up.

Crowe even said that he made up two of the movie’s most famous lines on the spot. He went to a high school in Sydney, Australia that had a motto (in Latin that translated to) “Truth and Honor.” And during the scene at the beginning of the movie where the Roman army is in Germania fighting off the Nazis (OK, maybe they weren’t Nazis in 180 AD) General Maximus Declas Meridias (he made up the name, too) salutes the other officers with “Strength and honor.” Russell also made up, “At my signal unleash hell.”

So what’s my point? I likely (as I don’t most days) have one. But I was just wondering if there’s ever been a movie that good that was so haphazardly made. It’s pretty obvious that Ridley Scott figured he could make a really cool looking movie about Gladiators and he didn’t need a script.

And…he was right.

But you just know that if they had made that movie ten years before that Arnold Schwarzenegger or Sylvester Stallone would have been Maximus. Can you imagine any of that improvisation?

Ah-nuld: Gladiator? Glad I killed you!

Sly: I am Maximo Decimo Merdidio, general of an army up north, father to a murdered kid, husband to a murdered old lady. You want a piece of me? Go for it!

The best actor in the movie isn’t Richard Harris, mainly because he lets himself get killed when Joaquin Phoenix hugs him…but rather it’s Joaquin himself. How many guys could have played Commodus (other than former Commodus Lionel Richie..oh, wait…that’s former Commodore…)? Who wants to play an incestuous weasel who kills his father and demands his sister have his baby! Anyone? Anyone?

And do we have any doubt that if Michael Mann had directed the movie instead of Ridley Scott, that not only would the movie have been nine hours long, but that in the scene where they reinact the Battle of Carthage that when the chariots crashed they’d have exploded?

I didn’t think so.

Basically, this whole Gladiator thing is just a long, rambling way for me to avoid writing about Pete Rose.

Look, I think Pete Rose should be in the Hall of Fame for what he did as a player, but all six of you who didn’t know he was a degenerate scumbag before, well I think you know for good now.

Here’s the amazing thing if you’re Allan H. “Bud” Selig, Jr. Interim Commissioner of Baseball for Life, you have to remove him from the suspended list so he can be eligible for the Hall of Fame. But if you do that you run the risk of some dumbass team hiring him to be their manager. Granted, that doesn’t seem likely.

But here’s the really amazing thing.

It’s not only likely, it’s almost guaranteed that Cincinnati will hire Pete to manage the Reds as early as for the 2005 season. You don’t think that they knew this deal was in the works when they had to decide whether to hire a “real” manager or just retain Dave Miley for another year?

I have an “uncle” who lives in Cincinnati. He’s a former (maybe even current) Cincinnati Reds season ticket holder and we once talked about what the people in Cincinnati think of Pete. He said basically, “If you really made them tell you the truth, they all know he bet on the Reds. But they don’t care. He’s Pete Rose. He could kill a man on the field and they’d say, ‘Sure that was wrong, but the guy had it coming, it’s not Pete’s fault.'”

The best thing is that maybe if Pete comes back to manage the Reds that Joe Buck can retire the Sammy Sosa cork jokes and work on some hilarious “You can bet that Pete Rose is going to use a pinch hitter here,” stuff. Oh, it’ll be priceless.

As for the real Hall of Fame selections, which will be announced early this afternoon, it’s likely that Paul Molitor and Dennis Eckersley will be the only ones who get in, and neither of them is a sure thing.

We went through this last year and I’ll say it again. When I was a kid growing up, I didn’t like Ryne Sandberg. I knew he was a great player, but he just seemed to prissy for my tastes. He never dove for a grounder, in interviews he only sounded like he knew how to use about nine words and he was just a little aloof. Besides, he was the Paul McCartney of the Cubs. He was the one the girls liked.

But I knew it then while it was happening and I know it now, he’s the best defensive second baseman to ever play the game, and he was the best offensive second baseman of his time. Nobody turned a double play better, nobody ever threw the ball better and more accurately and he carried the 1984 Cubs to the playoffs and pretty much did the same thing five years later. Given the Cubs sorry postseason history, that makes him the Joe DiMaggio of Chicago. Ryne Sandberg deserved to be a first ballot Hall of Famer. I don’t think he’ll make it this year, though I do think he’ll come close and I think he gets in next year. But why he has to wait, I have no idea.

On Sandberg I know I’m right. But I’m not really very selective when it comes to other Cubs who I think should be in the Hall of Fame eventually.

Here’s a partial list:
Ron Santo
Greg Maddux
Rafael Palmeiro
Shawon Dunston
Henry Cotto
Gary Woods
Rick Sutcliffe
Jeff Pico
Bob Scanlan
Domingo Ramos
Curtis Wilkerson
Tom Veryzer
Vance Law
Steve Buchele
Thad Bosley
Scot Thompson
Jerome Walton
Dwight Smith
Brant Brown
Paul Assenmacher
Ramon Tatis
Jody Davis
Damon Berryhill
Barry Foote
Sammy Sosa
Mark Prior
Kerry Wood
Mark Grudzielanek
Mickey Morandini
Henry Rodriguez
Candy Maldonado
Dave Smith
Kal Daniels
Doug Jones
Goose Gossage
Lee Smith
Bruce Sutter
Dick Tidrow
Rich Bordi
Kenny Patterson

That’s probably enough for now.


Andre Dawson and Joe Carter are on the ballot too. Excuse me while I go laugh hysterically. Come on, if Kevin Roberson isn’t in the Hall, do these two belong? Hell no.

Nick Saban’s not going to be approached by the Bears unless he sends up a smoke signal or something.
I always thought that if you wanted to attract a bear you just got out your pic-uh-nic basket.

The Bulls beat the Phoenix Suns, who were playing with Stephon Marbury and Penny Hardaway. Hey, it’s a win. Quick, name the Suns’ coach. I couldn’t do it. I knew Frank Johnson got canned, but I had no idea who the coach was. I guessed Cotton Fitzsimmons, just because.

Nope, it’s not Tom Gugliotta, he’s still playing. Sort of.

Not Kurt Rambis.

Or Paul Westphal.

Or John MacLeod.

Or Scott Skiles. He’s the Bulls coach now. Right?

Or Mike D’Antoni.

No, wait it is Mike D’Antoni! Great between him and Jeff Bzdelik I have no idea how to pronounce an eighth of the Western Conference coaches’ names.

Mike Downey says Pete’s not so bad.

Phil Rogers says he is just that bad. Phil doesn’t like him because he never played for the Rangers.

Kenny Williams went on a cruise. He said he liked it except he got tired of the other passengers calling him “Isaac” and asking him for drinks.

Mariotti puts down the doughnut, picks up the hatchet and delivers another thoughtful column on Pete Rose.

Tug McGraw is dead. His biggest regret. He never got to see his daughter-in-law naked.

It’s Tuesday, but here’s Peter King’s Monday Morning Quarterback.

A Cleveland dumbass lost her $162 million winning lottery ticket. Muahahahahahahahaha!

Princess Di wrote a letter saying that Charles wanted her dead. Ahh, he’s a mumbly Brit, he probably just was ordering dinner.

Wait a minute. Somebody found the Cleveland lottery ticket!

Karry Ling is reporting that this man is now $162 million richer:

Halle Berry wants the biggest pussy she can get. A Bengal tiger.

See, Britney, that guy was no good for you.

More good news for her, the world’s greatest newspaper is reporting that she’s a musical genius.