In the 1961 season, the first to feature 162 games, Mickey Mantle (an excellent turn by up-and-coming actor Thomas Jane, probably best remembered as the shark wrangler in "Deep Blue Sea") and Roger Maris (perfectly played by Barry Pepper, who followed up a fabulous turn as the sniper in "Saving Private Ryan" with a not-so-good turn in "Battlefield Earth.") were in the midst of a race to see who would break Babe Ruth's 60 homerun record. Two Yankees challenging one of the most hallowed records in baseball in the house that Ruth built, in a season with more games on the schedule-allowing the powers that be to "question" any record set in a longer period of time, thus the asterisk.

It's presented as quite a contrast for those who watched the 1999 homerun race-a race with two likeable guys (Mark McGwire and Sammy Sosa) and a record we were excited to see fall. In 1961, no one wanted to see that record fall. "We're chasing a ghost," Mantle tells Maris at one point. "He's everywhere, the fat fuck, we're playing in his house." And though we all know how it ends, with Maris getting to 61, but not really getting credit for the record until twenty years later, by which time he was dead, it's the details, all those little things numbers in a record book can't tell us, that make the story.

It's a horrible situation faced by Maris, who was hated by fans and regularly booed by his own crowd for daring to get close to Ruth's greatness. Lambasted for everything from being a "hick" to the fact that he wasn't a "real" Yankee (he'd been traded a season before by Kansas City, Maris came under so much pressure his hair began to fall out. Mantle was adored, but wrestling with his own demons (booze, chronic pain, women, booze). As portrayed by Jane, though he's got that personality reporters and fans cheer, he loves the game, but his body is slowly betraying him-making every day of play a lesson in agony.

One of the more intriguing details about "61*" is the fact that what many of us love most about baseball-the purity of the sport, the honor and integrity inherent in it-fell by the wayside. Those of us who love baseball hold the old days so dear in our memories, and then we come to realize that whether it's owners sticking it to the players, the players sticking it to the fans or the fans sticking it back, in reality the game, perhaps, has never been quite as sweet as our imaginings. Never quite as pure in its outskirts as it is on the field while things are in play. There's a telling scene with the commissioner of baseball (Donald Moffat) and a room from of the press-a collection of amazing character actors including Seymour Cassel and Richard Masur-where it's "decided" that any record set after the number of games Ruth would have been able to play will be held as a separate and distinct record. But it's a decision tinged with malice as Maris is slammed for not being as big a personality, for not being the "type" of player who should break Ruth's record-though it's painfully obvious that he is the kind of player who doesn't care about reporters putting on a good face, he just wants to play.

There were only 23,000 people in Yankee stadium the day Ruth's record was broken. There's a nice modern sequence featuring Mark McGwire and the Maris family on the way to see him break the record, as well as some nice words about Maris, who finally received unwavering public respect from fans and players in the light of his record about to fall. And in the end, though Maris finally gets his due, the behavior of the sportswriters and fans offers a sad commentary on how people treat the heroes of a great sport. Then you remember the 1994 strike-shortened season and realize that, in modern times, the door swings both ways. But for the time it's on, this film is little slice of nearly unspoiled baseball joy.

"61*" airs April 28, 8pm on HBO. Check local cable listings.