40 year old disabled pro baseball player Ed Hamner is listening to his former team, the Detroit Tigers, on the radio. His BFF, 12 year old Paula — wait, what? — drops her bike outside and comes in. She is also wearing Tigers paraphernalia. She jumps up into the chair with Ed — again I say, what! This strange relationship is not even the first thing that jumps out when viewing the episode. For some reason, Marc Singer has chosen to play this character as if he were borderline mentally challenged.
After the game, she shows Ed some of his old baseball cards which she just bought. She says, “I hear 20 Ed Hamners will get me a Reggie Jackson.” That might sound cruel, but she was being charitable. Based on my brief flirtation with baseball cards, the figure should have been more like 2,000 [1]. But they’re pals, just joshing and giving each other shoulder and elbow shoves as they giggle.
She hands Ed her big surprise — an ancient card she found for a player named Monty Hanks. Like Ed, he had a brief career. Also, like Ed, he has Ed’s face — they are identical. Paula leaves, but Ed says he will come to see her pitch tomorrow.
Ed’s wife comes home and immediately starts nagging him in the most irritating way possible — deservedly. She chews him out for playing with baseball cards when he was supposed to be working on his resume, although it is pretty much on the back of all of the Ed Hamner baseball cards Paula brought him.
Ed does make the effort to show up for an interview at Vectrocomp the next day, however, the boss keeps him waiting for over an hour. He tells the receptionist he has another appointment and goes to Paula’s baseball game. That night when he gets home, Cindy is swilling wine already. She says, “Look who’s here, Rookie of the Year!” I enjoyed that.
That night, sleeping on the couch, he is awakened by the Monty Hanks baseball card glowing in the dark. Then it floats over to him and expands to the size of a door. Ed walks through and is transported to 1910. He no longer needs his cane, and is in a Washington Senators baseball uniform. The bad news is that he is Monty Hanks and at bat facing the bean-ball that ended Hanks’ career. Sure enough, he takes one right to the melon. This time Hamner / Hanks is able to shake it off, though, and play out the game.
After experiencing the miracle of time travel, being healed so he no longer needed a cane, again feeling the passion of playing the game he so loved, Ed can’t wait to tell his soul-mate, his life-partner, his bestie . . . 12 year old Paula. She is understandably skeptical until he shows her the stats on the back of Monty Hanks card which have changed to reflect Ed’s performance. On the next trip, he takes Paula with him; to a simpler time when there was no crippling pain, no nagging wife, no pressure to get an office job, no consent laws.
After a few trips, Ed’s team is in contention to go to the World Series. Cindy has set up a gig for Ed as a speaker at a convention, but he ditches that too as he can’t miss a crucial game. Paula could not attend, but comes to his house later. She catches Cindy tossing Ed’s baseball cards into the fire. Paula enters and asks, “Where’s Ed?” Cindy quite reasonably asks, “Don’t you ever knock?” This gal is a keeper! Paula is able to stop Cindy from burning the Monty Hanks card.
Cindy gives her the card. Paula rips it in half, somehow knowing that will trap Ed in 1910 rather than, say, ripping him in half like Bishop in Aliens. Wouldn’t Cindy burning it have also sealed him in? Also, that’s a pretty presumptuous life choice for Paula to make for Ed and Cindy. As she looks at the back of the card, the additional years’ stats that Monty Hanks never had are filled in.
Overall, a pretty good episode. Marc Singer’s performance is a little over the stop with exaggerated facial expressions and speech affectations. He confesses to his wife that he never really grew up, so I guess he is just a stunted super-fan. His relationship with Paula might raise eyebrows in the neighborhood, but nothing salacious is implied here. As usual, the wife doesn’t get much to do except nag. She did get off some good lines though, and her scene with Paula was very believable.
I even liked the jaunty score they played when Ed went back in time. It seemed more carnivally than basebally, but it did effectively evoke the past. Even the little pixie dust flourish musical cue that usually signifies an awful TZ episode is appropriately-used here.
Other Stuff:
- [1] Marc Singer (Ed) is 40, so Ed’s brief career must have ended about 15 years ago. [2] This would have put his last year at about 1973, when Reggie Jackson was World Series MVP. I’d say his wife has been pretty patient.
- [2] Or 3 years before Paula was born.
- Classic TZ Connection 1: In Sixteen Millimeter Shrine, an actress disappears into an old movie rather than a baseball card. But she didn’t take her paperboy with her.
- Classic TZ Connection 2: Ed Hamner is suspiciously similar to TZ writer Earl Hamner, but I see no other similarity. Maybe he was a Tigers fan.
- IMDb erroneously calls him Hamler, but it says Hamner on his cards.
- Ed Hamner was such a Tigers fan, I wonder why TZ didn’t have Hanks play for the Tigers in 1910.
- From the director of the dreadful Banshee on RBT. The weakness there was more the script than his direction, though.
Andy is on the pipe and his son Jack is building a still. Wait, upon closer examination, Andy is smoking a smooth black cherry blend of tobacco; and Jack is not building a condenser coil to make hooch, it is an electrical coil for a science project. So I had this completely wrong.
Andy wonders if his son’s mentor Mr. White might be Dr. Barnes’ handyman. He asks Barnes, “Do you know the last name of your handyman?” Barnes doesn’t, so I’m guessing he’s not paying any FICA or Medicare; and also I’m guessing his handyman’s last name isn’t White.
coming from the moon. The machine enables Mr. White to send things to Jack. In fact he just received a picture from Mr. White. He sent a picture of himself to the boy and it is surprisingly not a dick pic. Mr. White turns out to be a hideous alien. I am, however, pleased that Mr. White is wearing a Speedo . . . and how often do you get to say that?
More of the same, although this episode seemed even more prehistoric than many others. That was largely due to the score and the performances, both of which could be called overwrought. Andy was the most natural of the cast. I guess we can give Jack a pass as he was just a kid. His mother, however, has clearly been seeking the shelter of her 
Bernard Seldon has crippling fears and anxiety. He is also haunted by visions of fires and demons. Father Wilkes from his old orphanage even returns in his dreams to taunt him and peek at his Underoos.
When he gets back to his building, his new neighbor Lisa says she baked a butt-load of lasagna, but he seems oblivious to the fact that she is inviting him to join her. She is undeterred and shows up at his door the next morning to see if he would like to take a walk in the park. He says yes, but comically closes the door in her face to finish his coffee. He plays this very Rain-manesque. It is not clear whether she is pursuing him because she thinks he is special or because she thinks he is “special.”
There is a revelation about how the fire started. There is also a fairly pointless case of mistaken identity. The good news is that Bernard finally goes full 
I always respected the late Alan Thicke for being such a multi-talented guy. He wrote insipid TV theme songs (Diff’rent Strokes, Facts of Life), starred in a long-running insipid sitcom (Growing Pains), hosted an insipid talk show (Thicke of the Night), and had writing credits on many shows of varying quality. [1]
Mickey has a blue sheet conveniently hanging on the mirror which he drapes over the red drapes already draped over her. That Mickey is really taking no chances. They do finally end up in bed. The next morning he is wrapped in the red sheet and she is wrapped in the yellow sheet.
Credit where it is due, though. This gang — James, Milo, Permanent, and Mullet — are cringingly repulsive human beings. On top of that, the mindless destruction and the frequent sound of glass breaking create a literal physical reaction in the viewer.
Miss Siddons arrives at Briarstone Women’s College to accept a job offer from her old pal who is now the principal. After a meet and greet with her friend and the vice-principal, she heads to her first class, European Literature. The VP expresses doubt, but the P says Miss Siddons has had a tough life. She lost her mother and father when she was in college. Then she went to Germany to visit her uncle. Darn the luck, the war started and she was stuck there for the duration.
After class, Miss Siddons is standing at the bus stop looking like Mary Poppins with her flat pork pie hat and valise. A carload of girls pulls up in Gloria’s car and offers her a ride, which she surprisingly accepts. She says she was under the impression that the students were not allowed to drive cars to school. Vera says Gloria is PC. Wait, what? Gloria explains that means Privileged Character. Privileged, really? These 
The next day in class, Miss Siddons lectures, “It is not generally known that the author of the classic European horror story Frankenshtein was the wife of the English poet Shelley.” C’mon, you lived in Germany for years and you say Frankenshtein? She writes the name on the chalkboard. Sadly, before I can see if she spells it with an H, Vera sneaks in late.
Miss Siddons doesn’t have the book Gloria asked about, but cares enough about her to check out an antique bookstore — the book is the antique, not the bookstore . . . the bookstore won’t last long enough to become an antique. Ben Prowdy happens by and hits on her again. She says maybe some other night. We can tell by her rare smile that she actually means it. She is startled to see, across the street, Gloria going into an establishment called 7th Heaven with a man. She tries to follow, but the doorman says, “No ladies allowed without escorts. You wouldn’t want the club to get a bad name, now would you, lady?” I think this place will have a shorter life-span than the bookstore.