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You 'root, root, root' for Drew in 'Fever Pitch'

"Fever Pitch," the Farrelly Brothers' delightful, mostly bodily fluid-free new romantic comedy, is ostensibly about the thin line between fandom and obsession; the love of a seemingly hopeless cause; and the never-ending attraction of opposites.

But to me, the real theme is: When you're a single gal in your 30s, how much crazy are you willing to put up with?

20th Century Fox 'Fever Pitch' The verdict: Funny. Crazy. Sad. Just like a real relationship. Directors: Bobby Farrelly, Peter Farrelly Starring: Drew Barrymore, Jimmy Fallon Run time: 98 minutes Release date: April 8, 2005 Rating: PG-13 for crude and sexual humor, and some sensuality. See showtimes On the web Official movie site View the trailer    Trailers require Quicktime Rate "Fever Pitch"   Go see it   Make it a matinee   Wait to rent   Don't bother Voter Limit: Once per Hour View Poll Results

I'm not talking about full-on Norma Desmond, "Quick, get the net!" crazy. It's about whether you're cool with Mr. Otherwise Perfect's need to skip family funerals to attend comic-book conventions, or willingness to sell his dog, car or some extraneous body part to get that original Hendrix vinyl because, dude, it's vital.

This is the dilemma facing upscale Boston businesswoman Lindsey (the wonderful Drew Barrymore), who comes to realize that her relationship with sweet, unassuming math teacher Ben (cute and swoony Jimmy Fallon) is actually a threesome, the third party being the Boston Red Sox organization.

Make no mistake — Lindsey may be in Ben's heart, but the historically hapless Sox are practically knit into his DNA. Rescued by his fandom from life as a lonely child of divorce, Ben clings to his season tickets, his family of fellow box holders and his breathless emotional investment in the team's fate (which, until last year's World Series win, had been reliably dire).

Ben's a devoted prince who cleans up Lindsey's vomit when she's got the flu, submits himself willingly to friend and parental scrutiny, and loves her dog. And he tries to wedge his love of the game in with his love of his girl. But it's hard for a flesh-and-blood woman to compete — he freaks out when she misses a game, is moodily childish if she doesn't think she gets him, and is just ... sometimes weird.

But how weird is too weird, when he's an otherwise nice guy?

No, seriously. I'm asking. E-mail me if you know.

"Fever Pitch," co-written by Lowell Ganz and Babaloo Mandel, and based on Nick Hornby's book, is, hands down, one of the most truthful movies about dating in one's 30s that I've ever seen. Sure, it abounds with your date-movie cliches — meeting cute, dating cuter, break-ups and seemingly inevitable reconciliations.

But the meat of it is heartbreakingly, unflinchingly familiar — the married friends full of advice, the initial cold feet, the uncomfortable silences and the moments where you wake up and ask yourself "Dear God! Am I setting myself up for crazy again? Darn it! I'm just buying those 12 cats and the rocking chair now!"

Lindsey's sort of like the baseball widows in "Damn Yankees" who sing about being ignored six months out of every year; or my late Grandma Streeter, who shared my Granddaddy with Baltimore Orioles radio broadcasts almost every night of their marriage between April and October.

The difference is that they'd already said, "I do" before knowing what they were getting into. Lindsey, on the other hand, sees the possible freak show before her, and she's not sure she wants her ticket punched.

I was thrilled to see a romantic comedy where the conflict isn't about some far-fetched case of mistaken identity, corporate espionage or pretending to date him so you can dump him and write an award-winning article about it. (Doncha just hate when that happens?)

Lindsey and Ben's problems are the stuff of reality. As a career-obsessed big-wig, is she slumming with the schlubby-cute teacher? When does compromise become rolling over and giving in? Are we expecting perfection when it doesn't exist?

And even if you believe in love and puppies and hearts and flowers, at what point in a serious relationship, particularly in your clock-ticking 30s, is it OK to decide that a guy isn't ever gonna grow up to be what you need?

Or, to quote genius songwriter Patti Griffin, "Hey Peter Pan, I'm going home now."

Being "grown up" is not about conforming to some Cosmo quiz, societally accepted standard, but about being able to look at him and see the father of your children, or your dog, or at least the co-borrower on your condo's mortgage.

And Lindsey's not some corporate automaton. She's sometimes rigid but is initially charmed by Ben's non-corporate sweetness. And after a bit of reluctance, she throws herself into his world, because she loves him, and because it's sometimes fun.

But as things get weirder, she has to consider whether she sees "forever" with a guy whose closet holds one solitary work outfit and 100 Red Sox tees (to match the Red Sox phone, sheets, mug and posters). I will add that for the first several months of their courtship, before the season and the freakiness begin, it was odd that Lindsey didn't see Red Sox on the bed of a 30-year-old man as a planet-sized red flag.

Like "Sex and the City," "Fever Pitch" explores the conflicts between married and single friends, career and relationships, and whether your life, at 30, looks like you thought it would when you were 20. And whether it's supposed to.

The Flick Chick's Bottom Line: Funny. Crazy. Sad. Just like a real relationship.