I am not Brad Pitt
but I thought I was for the duration of Moneyball. It was a tremendous relief to have a break from being me. First of all, I got to be cool and handsome for almost two hours. Also, I was really smart to trust the nerd from Yale who I noticed when I was trying to negotiate a deal with the Cleveland Indians. And what amazing risks I took. Under my fearless leadership, the Oakland As had a string of 20 wins. At the end of the season, the Boston Red Sox offered me a ton of money, but I turned them down. I am not sure why. Maybe so I could be near my daughter who wrote me a charming little song about being a little girl caught in the middle because love is a riddle. I also spit a lot. I had some sad things happen to me in the past, but they don’t matter now because I am alive right now, and my team is winning.
Why do I never identify with women in movies like this? Because I want to be The Hero, not the woman desired by the hero. Or, in this case, the woman who was once married to The Hero and who appears for maybe five minutes in the film, plus one phone conversation. This kind of transgender identification is something women are way better at then men. I read a study about this. For example, my son has rarely read a book with a female protagonist, despite strenuous efforts on the part of his highly literate mother. He was bored, yes bored, by the Little House books. But when I was his age the only books I read had boys as heroes, with the exception of Anne Frank, and she does not really count.