FOMM: Words on the Third of July

1. Moneyball: The Movie

Baseball fans and movie nerds everywhere received a crushing blow last week, when it was announced that Steven Soderbergh's adaptation of Michael Lewis' Moneyball was being put in "turnaround," a fancy-pants Hollywood word for "the trash." Word on the street was that the latest draft of the script was too far removed from the original one handed in by Oscar winner Steve Zaillian (American Gangster, Gangs of New York, Schindler's Gang-Free List and more).

Would you have had any interest in seeing 'Moneyball' the movie? Of course Not really Not at all

When I heard this, I just didn't get it. What was Sony Pictures expecting? Oceans 14 with walks? The book took place mostly in the Oakland A's draft room, where Billy Beane tried to convince people that a fat catcher who nobody else wanted was the key to a world championship. And as far as bad guys go, does Joe Morgan count? As the guy who told the world, "I'm not Billy Beane, I didn't write Moneyball," he sure seems like the perfect villain.

Turns out had the movie been made as originally written, Morgan would have gotten one of the last laughs. Zaillian's script leaked online last week, and it was surprisingly straightforward. The fictional Beane (who would have been played by Brad Pitt) was a frustrated athlete trying to outsmart the jocks who under-thought him back in the day by outsmarting their bosses, and for fun, bedding lots and lots of waitresses. Meanwhile, his protégé Paul DePodesta (comedian Demitri Martin) and pet project Scott Hatteberg (pet project Scott Hatteberg) were the underdogs moviegoers could root for.

It was thoughtful, funny, and a brilliant reworking of an "unfilmable" book. But thanks to the cold feet of a studio afraid of Soderbergh's "trust me" rewrite and low ticket sales for "adult" movies like Duplicity and The International, we'll likely never get to see Moneyball the movie. And though I'm bummed, Joe Morgan couldn't be happier.

2. The Real World: Cancun

In a promo for this week's episode of The Real World: Cancun, MTV's sexy voice-over lady informed us that "Something unexpected happens!" Did one of the cast members read a book? Successfully count to 10? Screw a goat? Nope. Everyone got drunk and a guy spit in a girl's tacos. Crying, flailing arms and a wet guitar ensued. Which for The Real World is about as unexpected as spontaneous nudity and failed long-distance relationships.

What's really embarrassing about RW: Cancun is that 2008 was such a hopeful, optimistic year for young people. MTV was given a gaping open window to reinvent The Real World as a show that portrayed generation X-box as people with brains, and instead, they preceded the predictable –- yet intriguing –- Washington D.C edition with a season that takes place in a city that makes Sodom look like Provo. But hey, that's cool, MTV. Why show the world young people who actually care about improving our country, when you've got the opportunity to show how easy it is for a seventh-rate Tommy Lee to get herpes south of the border. Hasta la vista, integrity.

3. Dinosaur Jr.: Farm

If the members of Dinosaur Jr. were athletes, everyone would be accusing them of taking steroids. A bunch of guys exceeding expectations after years of coasting by? Quick, someone call Mark Fainaru-Wada and Lance Williams!

Not that anyone's accusing a pint sized, gray haired slackster who needs a skateboard double of taking steroids, but there has to be some sort of performance enhancement going on here. It just doesn't make much sense how a band whose best albums came out in 1987 and 1993 has all of a sudden reformed and reached back into the fountain of feedback to put out not one but two thoroughly enjoyable works in the past two years.

Thankfully, making sense isn't what rock 'n' roll is about. Last week's new Dinosaur Jr. album, Farm, is another excellent slab of Godzilla sized guitar jams. It might lack the surprise factor of 2007's Beyond, but it's nearly every bit as good, and should please anyone looking for a new means of rocking out this summer. Performance enhancers not included.

4. Panda Power

As of July 1, there were only three players in baseball hitting at least .332 with more than 10 homers and 40 RBI. One is perennial Triple Crown threat Miguel Cabrera, another is Marlins star Hanley Ramirez, and the other is a doughy 22-year-old corner infielder named Pablo Sandoval.

Nicknamed "Panda" because of his resemblance to the main character in Kung Fu Panda (good luck finding another athlete named after a Jack Black role), Sandoval's breakout season has largely gone unnoticed, even though hit close to .400 in June, smacking eight homers and powering an otherwise limp lineup to a 17-10 record, leaving the Giants just six games back of the first-place Dodgers.

With his wild swing, kooky at-bat ritual and fan-familiar physique, Sandoval is exactly the type of player baseball needs to get past the steroids era and into a new one the Cooperstown crowd can be proud of. The fact that he wears a Giants uniform doesn't hurt either.

5. NYC Prep

I don't often wish harm upon people, but really, if any of the tykes documented on Bravo's NYC Prep were to get, say, hit by a bus, or stuffed inside a wood chipper, I can't say I'd be too let down about it. These miniature scumbags are by far the most detestable human beings I've seen on TV in recent memory –- and that includes the dudes of Tool Academy and all talking heads on Fox News.

Where to begin? How about the 15-year-old ladies man who buys $350 sneakers and brags about how much sexy time he gets? Or maybe the cross-eyed label whore who thinks her poop doesn't stink (and if it did, would be able to afford a procedure to un-stink it)? Or perhaps that girl's ex-boyfriend, "P.C.," a guy who thinks he's so mature that he can't possibly hang out with high school girls yet isn't smart enough to realize he just might not be into any kind of girls at all?

If these people seem familiar, it's because they're just like the snobby characters in every teen movie ever made. The difference is that in the cinema, the stuck-up rich kids always lose. The worst part about NYC Prep is these little a-holes are going to win.