Rotten Tomatoes score: 39%
Before I write anything about this movie, I want to point out that the poster reproduced to the right of this paragraph includes the text "The Chicago Cubs needed a miracle." Clearly they're referring to the joke I made at the end of my Angels in the Outfield review. Seriously, I had no idea the poster said that.
This movie is, to the extent of my knowledge, the only one ever directed by Daniel Stern, better known for his appearances in City Slickers and the Home Alone series, as well as for narrating The Wonder Years. Stern also appears in the movie as Bricma, the pitching coach. (Side-note: I was an avid collector of movie novelizations in my childhood, and I was often puzzled by differences between the book and the film, which were attributable to cuts or changes made during production. In the Rookie novelization, Bricma is never mentioned; thus I assume Stern created this bizarre character later on.)
Thomas Ian Nicholas plays the young rookie, Henry Rowengartner, and Gary Busey appears in a decidedly non-crazy role as Chet "Rocket" Steadman, the fading star of the Chicago Cubs. Amy Morton plays Henry's widowed mother; Bruce Altman is her selfish, over-eager suitor; Eddie Bracken (the toy-seller from Home Alone 2) is the Cubs' spacey owner; and Dan Hedaya is Bracken's devious nephew and employee. Finally, John Candy and the guy who played Chuck in the last season of The Wonder Years are the Cubs' announcers.
Before I go on to describe the ludicrous plot of this movie, please take a moment to enjoy the movie's theme music by Bill Conti. This is yet another example of a movie where the composer didn't seem to care that he was working on a flop.
Henry Rowengartner begins the movie as Chicago's most impossibly incompetent Little League player. He can't throw or catch the ball, and he apparently is too stupid to take off his hat when it gets pushed over his eyes. As for his personal life, his two weird friends seem to think his mom, Mary, is the world's coolest adult, but Henry is disappointed by his mother's taste in men. Her current boyfriend Jack is a yutz who drives a tiny sports car and thinks a third date warrants an expensive gift.
Then, during the next Little League game, fate strikes. Henry slips on a stray baseball, flies eight feet in the air, tumbles downward for a slow-motion eternity, and breaks his arm. He is dismayed that he will be spending the summer in a silly-looking arm cast, but he attempts to enjoy himself anyway, hanging out with his friends and watching the Cubs.
Three months later, the cast finally comes off, and the doctor reports that Henry's tendons have healed improperly. This is no cause for alarm, though, as it has no negative effects. Instead, it makes Henry's arm super-strong, which he discovers when he accidentally clocks the doctor in the face. (I think every child of my generation, even those that didn't see this movie, remembers the doctor's pained cry of "Funky butt-lovin'!" He stammers it as if he is bowdlerizing an F-bomb, but "funky butt-lovin'" is still pretty raunchy for a PG movie.)
At the next Cubs game, Henry's goofy friend catches the visitor's home run and hands it off to Henry to throw back. Henry does so, resulting in an over-the-top animated special effect of the ball screaming through the air. It catches the attention of the Cubs' general manager, Dan Hedaya, who wants to capitalize on the fact that his fans are more talented than his team by signing Henry to be the youngest Major Leaguer in history. No discussion whatsoever occurs as to whether this is permissible under MLB rules and/or state and federal law.
Mary is uneasy with the idea, but Jack--who proclaims himself Henry's manager--is such a money-grubbing opportunist that he hard-sells her on the idea until she caves. Henry meets the Cubs, including pitcher Chet Steadman, who fears his best years are behind him. He also meets Bricma, the dangerously unstable pitching coach who is meant to whip Henry into Major League shape. The press seems to view the whole business as a pathetic publicity stunt, but Henry ultimately impresses everyone with his medically improbable talents.
Steadman develops a close friendship with Henry and Mary, and Henry enjoys his newfound fame, but gradually the requisite setbacks occur: Henry alienates his friends; he has to sacrifice all his personal time to make terrible Diet Pepsi commercials; and Jack continues to manipulate everyone to try to earn money for himself. When Mary learns that Jack has contracted to sell Henry to the Yankees, she pushes him out the front door of her house and, in a totally unnecessary pratfall, he tumbles down the porch steps. Henry and Mary agree that this will be his only season in the Big Leagues.
During the division championship, Henry steps aside and lets Steadman pitch his swan song game. After a sickening sound effect and a distorted guitar chord in the soundtrack inform us that Steadman has permanently damaged his shoulder, Henry jumps in to clean up. Unfortunately, for all his pro experience, he still hasn't learned how to look where he's running, and he steps on a ball and recapitulates his earlier accident. This time around his arm doesn't break; instead the fall causes the tendons to be painlessly and instantaneously returned to their natural state, depriving Henry of his powers. I have checked all the leading surgical textbooks, and this is exactly the way it would happen in real life.
Henry manages to win the game anyway through a combination of guile, obnoxiousness, and a special pitch he learned from dear old Mom. (Are MLB pitchers allowed to throw underhand?) Everything turns out fine; he gets no further medical attention; and he goes back to sucking at Little League, where he nevertheless succeeds under the tutelage of Coach Steadman.
This whole movie is an exercise in childhood wish fulfillment. Even kids like me, who had no interest in sports, thought this would be pretty awesome if it happened to us. In that spirit, I think you have to evaluate this movie through the eyes of a child, and I conclude it is
So what does Rookie of the Year teach us about sportsmanship?
1. Children should not play professional sports.
And if they must play, they should not be managed by stereotypical early-90s losers.
2. Traumatic injury to the limbs is a virtual guarantee of improved athletic prowess.
The only downside is that it's easy come, easy go.
3. You'll get in trouble for saying "funky butt-lovin'" at school.
This isn't so much a lesson from the movie, but it's a good lesson from your third grade teacher the day after you see the movie.
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