Couldn't let Father's Day pass without giving a shout-out to my own Dad, William Arthur Smith, woodworker extraordinaire and the man who gave me one and only one piece of baseball advice: Swing level, and don't try to kill it.
I let the man down, having all the athletic skills of a tree stump. I never swung level and I never killed it, which is probably why I went into sportswriting. Those who can, do; those who can't sit in press boxes and silently curse those who do for taking so many (bleeping) pitches when we're on, you know, deadline.
Anyway ... this bit here has nothing to do with sports. But it's not only one of the best scenes in the history of moviedom, it makes a fine Father's Day tribute, too.