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On September 4, 2002, I was a week into my junior year of high school at Fremont High in Oakland, located about a mile away from the then McAfee Coliseum – now known as O.Co Coliseum. On that day, I remember the city transfixed by the Oakland A’s. At school, at barbershops, on the bus, everyone was talking about the A’s. It was the only thing, besides the city’s murder rate, that gave Oakland any national attention. (The summer of 2002 was one of the deadliest summers in the city’s history.) That night, a Wednesday, I remember sitting in my room, watching the Oakland A’s take on the Kansas City Royals, while looking out the window and staring at the coliseum’s lights. (One of the many things about my childhood that I loved was staring at the coliseum lights at night until I fell asleep.)

The A’s were trying to complete their 20-game-win streak, the longest win streak in American League history. The A’s won the game, completing the streak; however, they did not win the World Series.

The 2002 Oakland A’s season is the subject of the new film, Moneyball starring Brad Pitt and Jonah Hill.

The film is based on the book by Michael Lewis of the same title, about the true story of Oakland A’s general manager, Bill Beane, who used statistics and not traditional scouting to put together a team after they were outbid by other teams for their high-profile players.

But this is just the location of the film; a guide so-to-speak, to get to the real theme of the film. Some people will look at Moneyball as a film about changing the ideals of baseball scouting. But Moneyball is about changing the ideals of what makes someone or something valuable. Beane finds a way to make players, who were underappreciated by other teams, valuable. Moneyball is unlike most cliché sports films where they identify the lead character; put a conflict in front of him, the character triumphs and the audience leaves the theatre feeling happy. That’s the format for the “Blind Side;” Lewis’ other sports book-turned-film. There’s no happy ending in “Moneyball” and that’s what’s so fascinating about it.

Beane, played wonderfully by Pitt, never wins on or off the field. His ex-wife (Robin Wright) is in a relationship with another man, he rarely sees his adorable daughter (Kerris Dorsey) and the team doesn’t win a World Series.

For so long sports have told us winning is everything, there’s no such thing as a moral victory and no one remembers the loser. And that’s what Beane strives for. To be remembered. He wants to change the game because the game changed him.

In Moneyball we see Beane in the early 80s, once a promising young prospect, fail in the major league. Once a young man filled with ambition and confidence, but after his failed playing career, is now filled with self-doubt.

The script for Moneyball is beautifully written by Aaron Sorkin (The Social Network, The West Wing) and directed by Bennett Miller (Capote). But it’s Pitt and co-star Hill, playing Peter Brand; Beane’s assistant general manager; that make the film as great as it is.

Pitt is wonderful in the film as he blurs the lines between confidence and full-blown neurosis. This is one of the few films in the last couple of years where Pitt can be Pitt. Pitt is as smooth-talking, suave and debonair in Moneyball than in any of his previous films.

Hill is great as he plays off of Pitt’s confidence with his whit and subtleness. The two are great in every scene they are in together.

There’s no better example of this than when they maneuver to acquire Ricardo Rincon from the Cleveland Indians. The two have to manipulate the Indians, Giants, Mets, even their own owner to get the relief pitcher.

The film is not completely accurate as there are several made up or omitted details in the film. In the film, the A’s acquired Jeremy Giambi, Jason’s brother, after the 2001 season, when he was already on the team. Also, there’s a scene where David Justice had to pay for a soda in a vending machine. This has been refuted by Justice. Finally, and most glaringly, the film doesn’t mention their three-headed pitching monster: Mark Moulder, Barry Zito and Tim Hudson, who won a combined 57 games; hardly at all. But that’s Hollywood. The fabricated or omitted details don’t take away from the heart of the film.

Moneyball isn’t just for baseball enthusiast as lovers of all films can take something away from the film.