It's been a while. Let's see how much longer this lasts.

This is a story about a lot of things. But mostly, it's a story about two movies.

As always, if you're looking for discussions on Socratic discourse, you've come to the wrong place.

I first saw The Shawshank Redemption on the VCR in my family's computer room a few years after it had come out. I don't know why I decided to watch it. I do remember being completely entranced - usually, when I'm watching a movie at home, I get bored relatively easily and pause it for a few minutes. Not here. Entranced.

I knew nothing about it, and, in the end, I assumed that Andy Dufresne had been consumed by Shawshank. Was well-nigh positive about it. The fact that he hadn't been was one of the times that an ending truly surprised me.

As an aside, I usually have blog entries written in my mind before I write them. This one isn't being cooperative. Like me wanting to mention the second movie until much later. Doesn't want to write that way.

The second movie that matters here is Invincible. More on it later, but, for now, let's just say that I enjoyed the movie. So did other people in the theater. In fact, they enjoyed it so much, that, in the climactic scene, they stood up and cheered.

Now, objectively, they're idiots. It's a Disney movie. There's going to be an ending, and it's going to be a happy one. Surprise really isn't much in currency here. This is Patton rolling through France.

But they weren't idiots. In this one, even though you knew what was coming (probably), you still were happy - really happy - that it happened.

Anyway. More on Invincible later. Back to Shawshank.

There are quite a few great lines in that movie, but the best, and what I think is the crux of the movie, is Andy's letter to Red, at the end. As lifted from IMDB, it's "Remember, Red, hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things. And no good thing ever dies."

I like this line. It encapsulates the movie. But it's not the whole story. Because earlier in the movie (where I don't know), Red (Morgan Freeman's character) says "Hope is a dangerous thing. Hope can drive a man insane."

So, which is it?

When I was young - middle school, maybe earlier, my family had this book on Greek mythology. Lots of interesting color line drawings - "interesting" not in some negative sense, but interesting in the sense that they weren't really for kids, and some were designed to be a little scary.

Another aside - also in our possession was some great book about kids who found a big closet that did something like grant wishes. I specifically remember a polka-dotted elephant and some kid driving a race car. Funny what the mind remembers. The book wasn't beautifully illustrated, the way that some books, especially for kids today, are. But I damn sure remember that elephant and race car, even sharper than when I held the book.

Anyway. The thing that I remember most about that book - really the only story I remember - was the story of Pandora. If you rememeber the drawings that were scary, they came from the nasty things that Pandora unleashed upon the world - I don't remember the specific drawings, but I see them in a general sense, and they're a little scary even now.

But the part that always got me was the payoff (or The Prestige, which, along with Happy Feet, were easily the two best previews before Invincible - like I said, more coming soon!). The thing that stayed was hope. Not an AK-47 to mow down Pestilence or Fear. Just Hope.

I always felt like somebody got cheated when all they got was hope.

Now to Invincible. If you get a chance, see it. It's not Rocky or Hoosiers, but it's entertaining and a hell of a lot better than I expected. I thought that the Bill Simmons review was spot-on: especially since the attractive female character doesn't say stuff like "Stop! You're going to get hurt!" and provides some witty banter and sex appeal.

It's improbable, but it's (mostly) a true story. And it's important, because, if it weren't a movie, you wouldn't believe it.

Scratch that. You wouldn't bet on it. You might believe it. One of the best parts of the movie comes when Philadelphia is beset by rampaging Ottomans, plagues of locusts, and six or seven direct warhead hits, along with basically everyone striking. If there was a word for this part of the movie, it's "depressing". So, naturally, everyone comes to the bar where Papale worked, and they all basically cheer like raving lunatics at every mention of Papale's name. One of Simmons' "chill scenes" involves a talk he has with his father on this subject (remember the ladies in the theater? They gasped "Oh!" when his dad said what he did - it was that powerful).

So, in this case, hope (and sweat and dedication) pays off with some luck. He doesn't win a Super Bowl (it's the Eagles! ha!) but he fulfills his dream.

So now we come to Sunday (after a great sushi dinner and some kvetching from me at Sequoia's - thanks, Cheese Boy!). I go to Rhino, on the assumption that I can be a raving lunatic here (and ideally find a female who tolerates men swearing at the TV and clapping their hands when they're not even in the same area code as Philadelphia - more on this later).

The Eagles are playing the Giants. It's the same two teams that meet in the climax of Invincible. And, for three quarters, it's great. The Eagles are playing great defense, they're scoring, and it's a fun crowd - lots of E-A-G-L-E-S EAGLES! and "Ryan Howard *clap clap clapclapclap*". Even better, the two obnoxious Giants fans - including one who sort of looks like J.J. Redick - just suffer.

By the way, this violates a massive principle I have about sports bars. If you go into a sports bar that's affiliated with a particular team in a neutral city (i.e., a Steelers bar in Dallas), under no circumstances should you root for the opposing team. The exceptions are if you're in the city in question (rooting for a Cowboys opponent in Dallas), or if you're a fan of some dinky little college team with a nickname like the Fighting Scrod and the only bar that shows your team is the one that's also the unofficial gathering place for Massive State A&M. This rule becomes even more stringent when the local team is playing the away team, especially if the away team is expected to lose (Rams fans going to a Falcons bar in St. Louis to watch the game).

Why? As things began to go downhill, I began doing the traditional things that any person who is borderline crazy would - I started clapping to pump up the bar, which was located in Washington. Three girls sitting next to me (one of whom was wearing an Akers jersey) made a comment basically insinuating that I was insane. I replied that, yes, I was, but it made me feel better.

That's why you should never intrude on someone else's location to watch the game. I have very serious mental issues when it comes to the Eagles and Hoyas, and it's better for all concerned if I'm with other people who have the same problem I do. Only it's the absolute opposite of group therapy. It's like a group of alcoholics meeting at a bar for a drinking binge.

As things got worse, it was like watching something in slow motion - I could remember all the Eagles fans chanting "Scoreboard" at the Giants fans, which was tempting bad karma something fierce, and I could remember the guy who led the fight song every time Philly scored telling me after Philadelphia had returned a kick in overtime close to midfield that the game was over.

Hope was good for those associated with the Giants who never quit believing that their team could do it. Hope was great for those associated with Georgetown before the team upset Duke.

Hope can also be tortuous. The Eagles tanking in numerous NFC title games. The Hoyas during most of the Escherick era. The Orioles in 1989 - one of the best examples, where they were picked to finish dead last, and stayed in contention until they lost to the eventual Eastern Division champs (the Blue Jays) on the last day of the regular season. They wouldn't have made a movie about Papale if he lasted until the last cut. Moral victories mean little. Lots of Red Sox fans died without the team winning a championship in their lifetime.

Yes, I know that I'm using sports analogies to describe hope. I know that there are many other cases where hope is more real and more critical. In a related story, I find this guy to be a major fraud.

So the question's still there. Is hope good or bad? If your favorite team is never going to win the Super Bowl, is it better to reconcile yourself to that fact and accept fate? Or is it better to hold out the glimmer of hope that maybe they'll win, only to be disappointed time and time again?

I assume Yankees blogs never deal with this question.