Directed by: Robert Lorenz
Starring: Clint Eastwood, Amy Adams, Justin Timberlake, John Goodman, Matthew Lillard
A baseball scout suffering the onset of glaucoma is forced to reconcile his relationship with his daughter.
Eastwood plays a scout for the Atlanta Braves with three months left to run on his contract. The top brass are unsure if he still has what it takes and a ruthless young backstabber (Lillard) is looking to take his place. To make things worse, Eastwood's eyesight is failing but he's too stubborn to admit it. When his daughter (Adams), a hotshot lawyer who we're informed hasn't taken a Saturday off in seven years, learns of his condition she accompanies him on a mission to scout a promising young high-school player. Needless to say, her presence makes him uncomfortable. Timberlake, a former player turned scout, tries his best to romance Adams but she seems too set on advancing her career to have time for such frivolities.
There's something about the sport of baseball that lends itself well to cinematic treatments, at least that's what I thought before watching this directorial debut from Lorenz, Eastwood's long-time assistant director. There are more sports movie cliches on show than a Wayans brothers' parody. Will Adams fall for Timberlake's sporty charms or will she return to her life as an over-worked and under-appreciated legal eagle? Will Eastwood prove he can still spot raw talent despite possessing the eyesight of a stormtrooper? Will that Mexican kid pitching balls in the motel car park turn out be the next wonder-kid of baseball? Will we see a flashback which explains why Eastwood was such a bad father? Will that flashback feature footage from a Dirty Harry movie? If you're unsure of any of the answers (okay, the last one is out of left field admittedly), then you've clearly never seen a sports movie before. 
Cliches aren't always a negative if they're used well but this movie is devoid of charm, despite the casting of three very charismatic leads. If Eastwood lost much of his dignity in that famous speech at the Republican convention, the remainder is truly gone now. Casting an icon of American cinema in such a trite piece of garbage is like forcing a Rottweiler to wear a party hat. In the opening scene he informs us his private parts no longer function. C'mon Clint, nobody wants to live in a world where Dirty Harry can't get wood. You wouldn't have caught John Wayne giving us such a revelation.
4/10
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