When “Hoosiers” came out in 1986, I don’t think most of us here in Indiana appreciated what a singular accomplishment it was.

Sure, writer Angelo Pizzo and director David Anspaugh got plenty of accolades for their homespun story of second chances and redemption. But I was reviewing movies and writing about Indiana’s fledgling status as movie location at the time and while a few movies like “Close Encounters of the Third Kind,” eight years earlier, had been partially set in Indiana — here in Muncie, as a matter of fact — they weren’t shot here. The state film commission was trying to attract moviemakers here and “Hoosiers” seemed like the state’s entry into the grand and grandiose world of filmmaking.

It was not to be.

So we can appreciate “Hoosiers” for what it is: A touching, old-fashioned story about a former college hoops coach (Gene Hackman) trying for a second chance at a tiny Indiana school. The story is loosely based on the 1954 state championship game between Milan (called Hickory in the movie) and Muncie (with South Bend substituting in the film).

There’s a lot to like about “Hoosiers.” Here are a few of our favorite things:

Yep, that’s Indiana. The movie was filmed in the state and there’s no mistaking its lonely two-lane roads, flat cornfields and historic brick school houses. Not to mention the well-known Hoosier resistance to change.

“I thought everybody in Indiana played basketball.” One of the biggest things the movie gets right is the decades-long Hoosier love of high school basketball. The crowded little school gyms, the caravan of cars to away games, the hoops hanging on the sides of barns and in rural yards. We loved it all, right up the end of class basketball.

The casting. The players, the townspeople, the people at the games. There’s rarely a jarring moment.

Dennis Hopper. As the town drunk who knows basketball but invariably shows up at games and embarrasses his player son, Hooper was rightly nominated for an Oscar. It’s a comeback role for him.

Gene Hackman. It’s easy to forget just how good Hackman — who is apparently retired from acting these days — is, how easy he makes acting look. He’s perfect as the single-minded, not especially cuddly coach who doesn’t take any grief from players or parents.

And finally, the tape measure scene. When the players get to the state finals at Butler in Indianapolis, Hackman has them measure the distance to the rim. It’s the same as back in their gym in Hickory, he notes. The players laugh, releasing tension, but they’ve also been reminded that it’s just a game and it’s the same game they’ve been playing, every Friday night, in gyms big and small.