Dodgeball: A True Underdog Story

This movie is big, dumb, over-the-top, crude, and obvious. That’s okay, so am I, sometimes. Or sometimes I’m just in the mood for something big, dumb, etc. I was predisposed to like this movie for one simple reason: I was a killer dodgeball player in high school. I was okay at volleyball, and hopeless at everything else. I can’t account for it, but in the gym with the balls flying around I attained an agility I never knew I had, and an arm that could have pitched a world series game … if the major leagues used dodgeballs. It was the only sport where, when the team captains were choosing up sides, one of them would soon say “Let’s choose Varley, he’s pretty good.” We played with 40 or 50 on a side, and dozens of balls in play. If I survived that first minute of total mayhem where there was very little skill involved except trying to hide behind a fat guy, I had a good chance of being the last man standing. I was skinny and hard to hit, and I could scoop those balls in like nobody’s business. And I had a fake-out move that would get a guy going one way and then POW!!! Right in the kisser. Aim low? That was for sissies. The best hit was a head shot!

Now, where was I? Oh, yeah, the movie. It has some laughs.