I have a bone to pick with the Oscars. Actually, I have just about a full skeleton of bones to pick with the Oscars. This is not really a unique stance to take, nor is it very newsworthy. Anyone can ramble about the year-end awards that announced to the world, “Oh, ‘Hugo,’ Americans love old French films! Oh, ‘The Artist,’ the French love old American films! Let’s all give Meryl Streep a group hug!”

But this isn’t about me losing my Oscar pool by one point on the power of the Streep win—not today, at least. Today I want to talk about sports movies, the nature of this year’s big winner, and the one that fell through the cracks.

There’s already been plenty of discussion throughout Oscar season of “Moneyball,” a sports movie that has its flaws both in terms of sport and film. But the biggest issue with Bennet Miller’s tape of “Brad and Jonah’s Front Office Adventures” is the blatant misuse of the sports movie formula. Many have utilized the science of a downtrodden figure making an improbable run and ultimately coming through on a grand stage in dramatic fashion. Just look at “Rocky” or “The Natural.” They both hold a permanent place in the discussion of greatest sports movies, and it is because they adhere to this formulaic narrative format rather than flout it.

“Moneyball” follows a motley crew of baseball castaways (although the accuracy of that narrative is somewhat dubious) from the cellar of the AL West through their historic 20-game winning streak, capped off by a walk-off home run by the unheralded Scott Hatteberg. Did the emotional arc of the plot have somewhat of a manufactured feel? Yes, but that is ultimately fine. The underdog story always gives off some sense that it is actively tugging at your heartstrings, especially in sports movies. What took “Moneyball” from a movie I thought was pretty good (the Best Picture nomination seemed a bit much to me) and cheapened it was the ending. The natural underdog arc complete, “Moneyball” then plunged into the drama of whether general manager Billy Beane would abandon his team and his daughter to pursue his dreams with the Boston Red Sox and their ample resources. But introducing this plot only after the audience has invested all its energy in the team’s success felt like pandering, weakening the emotional impact of both narratives and compromising a working formula in the process.

The film that did as much with the formula as any sports movie I’ve ever seen was “Warrior.” Director Gavin O’Connor, known best for his work on 2004’s “Miracle,” also penned this story of two brothers, estranged from each other and their father, who find themselves entered in a mixed martial arts tournament against the best competitors in the world. Younger brother Tommy Riordan (Tom Hardy) fights for his lost honor, using his mother’s last name to conceal multiple pasts and training with father Paddy Conlon (Nick Nolte) despite Conlon’s abusive behavior. Unbeknownst to them, Tommy’s older brother, Brendan Conlon (Joel Edgerton, a teacher), moonlights as an MMA fighter and hustles his way into the winner-take-all Sparta tournament to pursue its $5 million purse. Only at the tournament does Brendan discover Tommy and Paddy have entered the tournament as well, and the movie builds to a confrontation in the octagon that is ultimately inevitable.

Tommy and Brendan each enter the Sparta tournament with compelling underdog stories; their abilities are not respected within the MMA community, while their plights are grounded in a sense of duty and righteousness to which the audience can definitely relate. Combine the fraternal clash of Tommy and Brendan with Tommy’s attempt to remain distanced from Paddy, who desperately seeks to earn his sons’ forgiveness, and you find the sports movie formula operating at full capacity, building up audience anticipation for a final bout in which both brothers are protagonists. With their dueling wills to win and their father looking on, the audience’s sympathies are pitted against each other since everything is on the line.

While the superb acting of Hardy, Edgerton, and Nolte (who earned himself a Best Supporting Actor nomination for his work) steal the show, it is the transparency of the narrative arc of “Warrior” that elevates it from a movie with strong performances to a great all-around movie. “Warrior” hits the audience with the underdog angle from the first scene and never lets up, going so far as to assume that the tournament organizers do not realize Brendan and Tommy are brothers until they are matched up against each other. This plot point is essentially nonsense (no one noticed that Brendan and Paddy have the same last name?), but this sort of dramatic twist to heighten the stakes for everyone at the tournament is a sports-movie staple. Even if a viewer were to pick up on this apparent plot hole, it would not matter. The drama behind the brothers’ bout does not hinge on who is the superior fighter, but who can overcome their own emotional baggage in the process;  knowledge of their relation does not affect the audience’s perception of the key drama. And there is something to be said for the charm of this stereotypical sports movie twist; it might be cheesy, it might not make total sense, but it completely fits this movie, so we just sit back in our seats and enjoy the ride.

On Oscar Sunday, “Warrior” was represented by the lone nomination for Nick Nolte, who spent the evening oblivious to the pomp of the ceremony. This was certainly delightful, and his mostly incoherent red carpet interview has not gotten the respect it deserves as a highlight of the evening. But to see a movie that did everything right get no fanfare while “Moneyball” waltzed into the theater with six nominations—including Best Picture—was a disappointment to say the least. I would argue that, from the acting to the directing to the writing, both as a sports movie and as a film in general,  “Warrior” is the better film.

But the 84th Academy Awards have come and gone, and we can say goodbye to the talk of who made the best campaign to the voters and who wore it best and whether this is really Viola Davis’ time (sorry, still bitter). Now we can just sit back and watch the movies we love. You, of course, can make an opinion for yourself, but when I’m in the mood for a sports movie to lose myself in, I’ll turn to Tommy, Brendan, and Paddy every time.