Read an in-depth essay on this classic episode at Deadspin.com.

“Homer at the Bat” was probably the first funny episode that stood out for me. “Stark Raving Dad” with the Michael Jackson song is probably more enduring due to its sweetness, but “Homer at the Bat” is much, much funnier and set the tone for the show’s golden years.

It featured Roger Clemens, Ken Griffey Jr., Don Mattingly, Ozzie Smith, Jose Canseco, Mike Soscia, and Daryl Strawberry, among others. The fact that the producers were able to cram in some of the episode’s ephemeral baseball stars (Steve Sax?) and still make it funny is a testament to how great it was.

In honor of the anniversary, here’s a clip of Barney and Wade Boggs getting into a fistfight over who was the greatest Prime Minister of England…in Spanish.

The role of Beane is played fairly effortlessly by Brad Pitt.  In addition to being the focal point of the film, Pitt’s Beane is the vessel through which every aspect of the film runs. If you have a problem with him (the character or the actor (in Moneyball there is little distinction), you will probably not like this film. If you like him, you will probably like this film, love or understanding of baseball be damned. Similarly, at no point do you forget that you’re watching Brad Pitt onscreen. I have no idea what Billy Bean is like as a person, but after watching this film, I expect him to be exactly like Brad Pitt.

This is the Brad Pitt/Billy Beane show, through and through. With a winning turn from Jonah Hill playing Peter Brand, his statistical sidekick, and a somewhat puzzling Phillip Seymour Hoffman portrayal of Art Howe, the club manager and the closest thing to an adversary that appears in the film, both serve to divert the minimal amount of attention required away from Pitt. Hill through comic relief, and almost as an audience surrogate, and Hoffman as a very, very polite nemesis. Seriously, it feels as though Hoffman may have been chewing Tylenol PM throughout this entire shoot.

What’s most striking about Moneyball is that it appears to be a film almost entirely devoid of conflict, which makes it all the more marvelous that it manages to engage for as long as it does. There’s no shouting, no imminent danger, no romance. Even from a black-and-white baseball perspective, the film begins with expectations for the club lowered, then the rest of the film is spent watching the A’s and Beane try to meet expectations, sometimes succeeding, sometimes failing.

The baseball season clocks in at 162 games, which means a team is much more likely to win via a slow, steady grind than in a big game. That’s the essence on Moneyball (the concept). Moneyball (the film) reflects this philosophy, not relying on “the big game” or “do or die,” but rather tenacity and a little bit of faith as Beane braves criticism from several fronts. In short, he succeeds by avoiding being nibbled to death by ducks.