Game Day (1999) - full transcript

Richard Lewis plays coach Steven Adler, a one time high profile division one college basketball coach haunted by the demon of having lost five championship titles. Now he finds himself ...


[radio announcer]
Hey, fellow Greenlawn-ians,

if you're not up yet,
shame on you.

This is the biggest day
Greenlawn, New York
has ever seen,

and the adrenaline
should have rushed
to your brain hours ago.

It's a typical March day
outside, 36 degrees,

15 degrees
with the wind chill factor,

with a 98% chance of rain.

And now,
I have the pleasure
of welcoming

the honorable John Davis,
mayor of our fair city.

So, Mr. Mayor,
do you have a prediction
for tonight's big game?


[rock/blues music ♪]

[soft collision]

[rock/blues continues ♪]

[music fades]

[percolating sound]

[♪ Three Dog Night: "Shambala"
on radio]

[aluminum crumpling]

[rattling on floor]


[while exhaling]






[music continues ♪]



Good morning.


[rustling sound]


[sharp inhale]

And good morning, Greenlawn!

We'll continue our coverage
here this morning

of the top news story
of the day.

Before this season started,

the college basketball
rules committee

introduced a new rule

which said that
the two teams in the final

would flip a coin
to determine a home team
for the championship game,

rather than playing
at some neutral site.

All involved supported the idea
but support shifted

when our own St. Joe's
shocked the planet

by not only
making the tournament,

but making it to the finals,

and then won the coin toss,
to boot.

When the league realized
that this meant
the championship game

would be played in the modest
MacDougall Gymnasium
on St. Joe's campus,

they, along with
the Miami State Lightning,
filed for emergency injunction

to move the game
to the civic center
at Utica.

[ominous chording ♪]
Well, justice won out
in the end,

as the court rejected
the injunction

and upheld St. Joe's right
to play the game
on our home court.

Representing our town
in this victory

was Greenlawn's
top legal mind, Frank Wilson

who had this to say,
after the court was
persuaded by his argument:

The fine people of Greenlawn
deserve to have the game
played in their own gym.

And thank God,
in this wonderful country
of ours,

that you usually get
what you deserve.

[dramatic whoosh ♪]

Well, there was
a decidedly different reaction

from the best player
in the country,

Miami State's
Montgomery Clarke.

I think it's a bunch of

That gym is so small
they only gave me
one ticket to the game.

My mom can't even go.

That's alright, though.

It'll all be better
when we bust [bleep]
on their home court.

Montgomery doesn't look
too excited there.

That'll change, I bet,
if he manages to lead

Miami State to their
next championship.

[dissonant chord ♪]
[crunching cereal]

[♪ Ricky McDonald:
"I'm a Luva"
on radio]

[soft moan]


[deep exhale]

[music continues ♪]

[soft moan]

Did you like that, baby?

[soft chuckle]

I think the better question is,
did you like it?


Oh, yeah.

You taste so good.

How 'bout you?

[soft giggle]

I'll show you how much
I liked it.

[girls laugh]

Alright, cut this shit.

[girls giggle]

Come on, I mean it.

I got a rule.

No double-coming
on game day.

[disbelieving laughter]

Excuse me?

You heard me.

And if I was ever planning
to break a personal rule,

I wouldn't choose
the day of the

national championship game
to do it.


Come on, I'm serious.
Get the fuck out.

Be gone.


[annoyed breath]

[music continues ♪]
♪ I'm a lover ♪

[music cuts]

I'll see you tonight...


the sad reality is

you ain't gonna have much
to cheer about.

I am not just cheering.

I am the feature dancer
on the Reebok Halftime
Aerobics Team, thank you.

- Really?
- Yeah.

They said there's gonna be
talent agents in the crowd.

They did, did they?

Well, one thing's for sure,

you sure danced good
last night, baby.

If I was from Reebok,
you woulda won.

Fuck you.

[♪ Leon Russell:
"Out in the Woods"]


[rotary phone dialing]

Come on...

Be there.

[phone ringing]

[man on phone]
Who the fuck is this?

Up and at 'em,
Mr. Sunshine.

What time is it?

Hey, listen, I want some action
at Fingerlicks and
I didn't want to miss you

You're calling, today,
to bet on a horse?

Fucking guy.

Look, I want 500 units
on Sweet Dreamer
in the fourth, okay?

Alright, one second.
Let me write this down
on something.

Alright, you're booked,
you crazy son-of-a-bitch.

[woman over phone]
What the fuck you doing?

Relax, it'll wash off.


[music continues ♪]




[music fades]


There's my little angel.


Hi, Daddy.


How's my big girl?

Oh, good.

How's my daddy?

How could I be
anything but happy

with a family like this.


[woman, melodically]
Is this the little girl
I carried?

Is this my little girl at play?

Mother, stop it.
You're embarrassing me.

Embarrassing you?
I bathed you.

Fred, how did she
grow up so fast?

That's my little Suzie Q.

Hi, Babs.

Hi, Suzie.

So, are you excited
for the game?

You will be watching out
for your big sister on TV?

Of course she's excited.
Who in their right mind

wouldn't be excited
about the game?

Your father
can hardly sleep at night

thinking about this game.

Coach Adler is a genius,
and St. Joe's has got him.

I'd rather have Adler coaching
than Montgomery Clarke
playing for my team.

Well, I just think Coach Adler
is so cute.

He is the captain of his ship,
and his ship goes down

over his dead body.

That's the kind of commitment
he gives you.

You should admire that.

We should all look to him
as a role model.

[rock music plays ♪]

[deep inhale]

Ah, shit.

[heavy thud]

I have never seen
another coach

throw him a defense
or an offense

that he didn't figure out
and pick apart.

Man, I love that guy.

Is that all you can talk about?
Coach Adler and the game?

What about the
Reebok Halftime
Aerobics Team

and its future dancer?

Oh, I'm sure that's all anyone
can think about today,
Ms. Ego.

Daddy, will you say something
to her?

apologize to your sister.

Sorry, Suzie.

Apology accepted.

Now, have you told everyone
about my show tonight?

Oh, honey, everyone we know
will be watching the game,
so they'll see you.

You mean you didn't
call everyone?

Well, how will they know
to look for me?

Well, we've told
all the people

that we're close with about
the halftime aerobic team.

And, anyone that we didn't tell,
they're bound to see it.

After all, you are
the featured dancer.

That's true.

I suppose you're right, Daddy.

That's our
understanding baby.

When she comes home
from her sorority house

instead of a napkin,
can you set me a vomit bag?

Barbara, what kind of talk
is that?

Apologize to your mother.

Sorry, Mother.

Apology accepted.


Are you going to
spend the day with us,

or do you have some
last minute aerobics
to practice?

Oh, I can't stay.
Dave's frat house
is having a pre-game party.

Are you sure it's not
a pre-halftime, aerobics show


Sorry, Suzie.

You know, Daddy,
you should apologize to me,

I still can't believe
you didn't get tickets
for tonight.

[Helen, on phone]

Oh, honey, you know
I'd be too nervous

to watch your big number
live, in person.

You want who?

I'd rather watch it on TV.

- Your name is what?
- And sit in my lucky chair.

I just know it's gonna
bring you luck.

Fred, there's someone
on the phone, and I...

I-I-I think it's a wrong number,
but he won't believe me.

Do you want to handle it?


He says his name is Zippy.


Hello, scumbag.

Oh, yes, uh, hi.
How are you?

Uh, please forgive me

Oh, ye-yes,
I have that information
for you in my study.

Could you hold on
a moment, please?
Thank you.

Um, heh...

This... eh... um.

I'll just, uh, take it
in my study.

Why are you calling here?

Oh, I'm sorry, scumbag.
Is this bad for you?

I didn't realize.

The thing is, I thought
you wanted some action tonight.

We took care of that

Uh, Mr. Segal would like
to personally review
the situation.

Okay, so what did he say?

No, scumbag.

When I say Mr. Segal wants
to personally
review the situation,

I mean he wants to
review the situation with you.


I have to meet him?

Oh, my God...

'Cause Mr. Segal said so,

Okay, okay, um...


At his club, Magic Nipple.

It's on Tulip Lane.

Be there before 3:30.

Anytime before 3:30, okay?

- Okay.
- Okay, scumbag.

[suspenseful bells ♪]



Is this all you need?


That's it.

Oh, Coach Adler.
Please don't insult me

by offering me money
for this lightbulb.

Aren't you in the business
of selling things like...

Yes, of course.

Well, don't you think
you'd make more money

if you charged people
for 'em?

Oh, Coach Adler.
Yes, I charge people.

But you're not people.

You're Coach Adler.

Coach of St. Joe's,
coach of the Red Wave,

and I would not think
of charging the coach
of the Red Wave

for a light bulb
on such a glorious day.

I just think you're wonderful,
Coach Adler.

What you've done
for this town,

it's like the gods
brought you to us.

[sudden inhale]

Go Red Wave!

Thank you very much.


Moron Boy!

Are you just gonna stare
from over there,

like a imbecile?

You just stare at the coach
and don't say nothin',
like a mute!

And on top of it,
you don't do no work, neither!

Hey, hey!

Hey, hey!

Go Red Wave!

[bell rings]

Can I help you
with something?

Uh, yes.
Yes, you can.

I couldn't help noticing
the signs you have

outside your store,
showing Red Wave spirit,

and I kinda thought that you
would want
a Red Wave costume.

Let me ask you something.

Are you going
to the game tonight,

or are you watching it on TV?


I got seats.
Blue section, first row.

Well, there you go.
Those are terrific seats.

You are definitely gonna want
one of these.


This, my dear,
is the official
Red Wave costume,

designed by
Epsilon Delta Phi fraternity,

and if you really
want to show 'em

who you're rooting for...
Yeah!'ll have one of these.

How much?

A mere 30 dollars.

- Let me get my bag.
- Right.

Hey, man.

[metal cans clattering]

You going to the game tonight?


Yeah, you.

You going to the game?

I'm not sure.

There may be no point.

You been talking
to Moron Boy, over there?

Moron Boy,
why aren't you working?

I've done everything.

Thank you very much.

And... Here you go.

So, how much
do I have to pay you

to help me put it on?

It's one-size-fits-all, right?

Well, I guess
we're about to find out, right?

Hey, buddy?

If you, um, change your mind
about the costume

you can stop by
Epsilon Delta Phi

anytime today,
and we'll hook you up.


Take it easy.

[bell rings]

Why do you just stand there,
Moron Boy?

Do something!
Dust the shelves!

I dusted the shelves
twenty minutes ago.

[clatter, grunt]

[thud, glass shatters]
Dust it again!

I'm paying you,
and you're gonna work!



[machine beeps]

Uh, hi, Steve?

Coach? Uh, Coach Steve?

It's Julie,
from the law school party.

Which one was Julie?

Well, I had an excellent time
hanging out with you,

and, well, when you asked me
to go with you
to the game tonight,

I wasn't really sure
whether or not
you were serious.

I mean, do you have time
for a first date

while you're coaching in
the national championships?

I was probably serious.

Well, we were both
pretty plowed,

so you may have been
totally kidding.

Oh, God, how totally retarded
will I feel
if you weren't serious?

For Christ's sake,
I was serious.

Well, I'm out and about
all day shopping,

so it's pointless
to leave my number.

But, I'll tell you what,
I'll try back one more time
later today.

If you want me to be
your first lady of basketball,

just pick up the phone,
and if not, well...

I'm a complete fool,
and it was totally exciting

meeting you the other night.

Um, hope to speak
to you soon.


[ex-Mrs. Adler]
You stinking piece of shit!

Where's the goddamn money
you promised?

You know, Steven,
it comes as no surprise

that you treat me like shit
and trample all over my life,

but your little daughter?

How do you find it so easy
to sleep at night

knowing that you treat her
like shit, too?

Listen to me,
you stinking swine:

You're going to pay
her damn college tuition,

and until you do,
I'm going to hound you
like a dog.

I'm gonna call you,
and follow you,

and embarrass
and harass you

until you pay every last dime
the courts ordered you to,

you stinking,
miserable, bastard.


[deep sigh]

I'm gonna have to screen
every call for the rest
of my life.



[rapid ticking]


[Steven, on machine]

You've reached
the Adler residence.

Leave a message
if you feel like it.

[rolling tape]

Ah, shit.
Fuckin' shit.

[sharp exhale]

[dial tone]


[beep, beep]

[phone ringing]

[ex-Mrs. Adler]

[single ring]

Oh, Christ.


[indistinct background chatter]


[pitch, frequency increase]


[Steven, on machine]

- You've reached
the Adler residence.
- Shit.

Leave a message
if you feel like it.


[ex-Mrs. Adler]
You miserable,
stinking, bastard.

I know that was you.

Do you really think
you can avoid me?

Pick up the phone,
you sniveling coward!

Okay, don't pick up,
you disgusting little weasel.

But sooner or later,
I'm going to get you.


...your daughter's...


And then die.

And then burn in Hell.



And I was so in love
with that woman...




Coach Steve?

Thank God.


Well, if you're not taking me
to the game,

you are officially
the biggest tease

on the face of the planet.

Hey, Julie,
I may be many things,

but a tease is not one of them.

Oh, my God, this is so cool.

I'm gonna be
the high priestess of hoops.

Hey, listen, I hope you're not
just coming to the game

for, uh, status.

I'm offended you'd think
I'd be influenced

by such
shallow considerations.

So, do we have great seats?

Well, my seats
are a little closer than yours,

but yours comes with
less responsibility.


So, how do we hook up? Should I meet you there, or...?

Come over right now,
we could spend some time...

Oh, come on.
You're kidding now, right?

I mean, don't you have to
prepare for the game,
or something?

Well, I'm prepared
for the game.

If you're prepared
for the game.


Well, I'm going over
some last minute strategy,

but I can come over
right after that.

Sounds good to me.
I live at...

...744 Forest Lane.


Okay, see you soon.

[dial tone]

Prepare for the game...

[sharp inhale]

That's what I thought
I was doing.

[deep exhale]

This exhibition baseball
is bullshit.

Every damn one of them guys
is going to be in the minors
in about a month.

I mean, look at that
sorry bitch on the mound.

That boy can't pitch.

Shit, I kicked
that motherfucker's ass

at stickball last week.

Alright, that's good, Mikey.

Turn this shit off...

Look, Mikey...

There he is,
the man of the hour.

What up, boys?

Wassup, man?

Who's the munchkin?

Fuck you, homie.


Check out the mouth
on the munchkin.

Shut the fuck up.

Yo, H, man,
that's my little brotha'.

I gotta mind his business
all damn week.

No one's got to mind
my business,

I've got it covered.

Yeah, you got it covered.

You don't say "fuck you" to H.
Not to the man.

And definitely not
in his domain.

And most certainly
not on a day

he's playing for the
national fuckin championship.

You should look up to
guys like H.

Give him respect.

You should think of H
as your role model.

Oh, Willie...

What kind of
head-up-your-ass advice

is that to be giving
to an impressionable kid
from the ghetto?

[incredulous sound]

Back off, Jerome.

Come on, Harry, you know
you should not be
any black kid's role model.

Well, pardon my ass,
Mr. Mandela,

but how many minutes
are you playing

in tonight's
championship game?

Well, let's see...

If the game's a blowout,
I'll play two less minutes
than you will.

And if it's close...

Well, the only difference
between me and you

is that you're in
the lay-up lines.

It's not my fault
Coach is doggin' me!

The coach dogs you
'cause you're a dog.


I'm the best fucking athlete
on the whole team.

Best athlete
on the whole team?

This mother fucker
is the best athlete

in the whole
motherfuckin' league.

Just because
you're the best athlete

does not mean
you're not a dog.

What makes him
such a dog?

You want an example?


I guess we'll have to
venture all the way back

to, uh, this morning.

Now, you would think
that a ball player

dedicated to the team goal
of winning

would want to get
a good night's rest

on the eve of the
national championship game,

rather than
doing the Hokey Pokey

all night long
with two white chicks

'til the middle
of the morning.


See, you a lying motherfucker.

I had them bitches
out by eight.


And no matter
what I did last night,

that still don't change the fact
that Coach is doggin' me.

Only reason I don't play
is 'cause...

He a racist!


Now, that's pathetic.

Fuck you!

You don't know shit!

Coach hates niggas!

Well, that's
an interesting assertion,

considering that most
of the team's starters
are black.

So what?
I'm the most black.

Oh, man, you're not
seriously going to continue
this debate.


Fuck you, you heard me!
I'm the most black.

I'm the darkest.

I'm the funkiest.

I got the biggest dick.

You know what I think,

I think the only reason
you losing your shit on me
over this

is 'cause you got
a guilty conscience

for being so white.

For being... white?

You heard me,

[sharp exhale]

Oh, well...

You certainly were right there,

He does make
a good role model.

After all,
reading books isn't good.

Reading books is white.

Why you being
so fucked up for?

I can't deal with
this motherfucker
this morning.

Stay out of my face.

It's the afternoon
for the rest of us.

[sound of contempt]

Look, here.

Choose your role models
wisely, little brotha.

Two white girls together?

I'm down with that!

My man...

[hand slap]

Come here, boy.
You crazy.

[radio plays country ♪]

You know...

I'm really thinking about going.

I mean it.

I really may
go to the game.

I really may do it.

I'm really thinking about it.

I might just go over
to Epsilon Delta Phi

and buy a big costume.

I'd buy a big costume,
and wear it to the game.

So, you think I should, or...?

For Christ's sake,
why do you ask me?

Who should I ask?

Ask yourself.

Maybe for once in your life,

you can ask yourself something.

Make your own decision.

So, you think I should
make my own decision?

[exasperated noises]

Oh, for Christ's sake!


[softly, to self]
Oh, please be the hot one.


Be the hot one.

Oh, Jesus...




Hey, Julie...

There he is,
the man of the hour.

Come on in.
Come on, it's cold.


Can I take your, uh,

Or your coat?

You can take both.

Ah, that's pretty.

Thank you.

[zipping sound]


Why don't you
have a seat?

I think I'll do that.


It's... kinda dark in here,
don't you think?

Ooh, uh...

Yeah, I guess you're right.

Unfortunately, I don't have
much light.

Neither does Greenlawn.


So, why don't you
get more light?

If only it were that easy.



This is so
outrageously exciting.

We could go all the way.



You're pretty excited
about the game.

You picked up on that,
did you?

Let me ask you a question.

How come you don't seem
nervous, or excited, or...


I'm all of those things.


Some wine?

Wine? Now?

Yeah, why not?

This isn't some sort of
religious holiday for you.

Aren't you coaching
in some sort of sporting event
real soon?

Yeah, but you know...
What's wrong with, you know,

one drink to... loosen up?


You're the coach...

...Coach Steve.

Why do you keep calling me
"Coach Steve?"

It makes me sound like
the child molester

who runs the
after-school program.


Well, up until a few days ago,
I knew you as Coach Adler,
one of my heroes.

So I'd feel silly
calling you Steve.

But, calling you Coach Adler
isn't appropriate
for a personal relationship,

so, "Coach Steve," I think,
is perfect.


Well, I'm really, really glad
that it works for you.

- Oh, wait.
- What?


What happened?

This glass is filthy.

Wha... get out of here...

Oh, geez, uh, um...

It's really dusty.
I-I'm so sorry.

This is...
This is terrible.

[horn music on radio ♪]

So, uh, where you from?

What makes you think
I'm not from Greenlawn?

[blowing sound]


Well, I dunno...

You don't have that dull,
product-of-incest, look
about you.

[laughing scoff]

Hey! Be nice.

So, what year of law school
are you in?


Oh, Christ.

That's a tough year.

You take all your classes,

have to land that
big summer job,

and then, well then
you have to do

all that research
for that journal

that you have to join
to improve your resumé.

Law school survivor?

[deep inhale]

Did you ever practice?

For about a year.


So, why'd you leave it
so quickly?

It sucked.


Yeah, I guess
it's a lot more fun

being the best
basketball coach
in the universe.

Tendency to exaggerate
in my favor...

I like that in a woman.



You took Kentucky
to five championship games.

And we lost
every one of 'em.

I know.

How does something like that

I don't know.
How's the wine?

Oh, mmm, not bad,
for a bottle
with a screw-off cap.


How the hell
did you know that?

I took it off
in the kitchen.

I can see the ridges
on the neck of the bottle!

Oh, gee...

The Greenlawn Liquor Bar
ran out of the bottle
with the cork.

If you hate this town so much,
what are you doing here?

I just got burned out
on the major college sports,

so I said, you know,
I'm just gonna move

to a dipshit town.

But, here I am again.

In the championship game.

But do you realize,
win or lose tonight,

you will have given
every single person

in this town
the thing they'll be proudest of

for the rest of their lives.

No shit.

So you wanna get high?


Get stoned? Now?

Yeah, why not?

It'll be fun, you know?

We'll... we'll get stoned,
and then you can... can help me
make up a game plan.



You're the guy
from the hardware store, right?

That's right.

You came by to get
your Red Wave costume?

Yeah, I decided
to go to the game.



Come on in.


[funk music playing
somewhere in house ♪]

I'm gonna go upstairs now,
and, uh, get your costume.


So that's thirty bucks.

[indistinct chatter]
[music continues ♪]

[in background]
Hey, yo, man. What's up?

Great, thanks.

Listen, go in the party.
Have a good time.


[funky disco music ♪]

[indistinct chatter]


[music, party noises]

Hey, sports fans!

[group response]

[guitar solo ♪]

[music fades]
[white noise hum]

[Moron Boy
groaning lightly]

[funk music playing ♪]


[girl, giggling]


What the fuck
are you doing,

you sick motherfucker!

[loud crash]

Oh, God, if you
killed a llama for this,

I'll be angry.

You know something...?

You're a lot funnier
when I'm stoned.

Oh, really?
Well, screw you.


Dammit, you're so pretty.

You really think so?

Oh, yeah. I know so.


[lip smacking]

[heavy breathing]

- Ow, oh! Ah, Christ.
- What's wrong?

No, I-it's-
It's not your fault.

My thigh... ah, shit.
Bullet wound.


From the war?

No, no, no. No.

ROTC rifle training.

It's not funny.

I almost killed myself
and three of my buddies.

Oh, man, it hurts like
a son of a bitch

Can I see it?

You wanna see my wound?


Wait a second.

You have to take
your pants off?

No, it's just another
nervous tic of mine.


I think I should warn you,

I've just discovered that pot
makes me really horny.

[low moan]

I guess that's just something
I'm gonna have to tolerate.

Show me your wound, Private.


It looks a little
like a birth mark.

Oh, well, it didn't feel
like a birthmark

when the bullet ripped
through my leg.

I didn't say it was a birthmark,
I just said it looks like one.

I know it's a wound.

See, I'll kiss it,
and make it feel better.



You know what really
makes it feel better?

Kissing it...


...two inches northeast.

Really? You mean...






[Steven, on voicemail]

You've reached
the Adler residence.

Leave a message
if you feel like it.


[ex-Mrs. Adler]
You sniveling piece of shit.

Pick up the phone,
you bastard.

You're probably still
passed out with some...

It was a bitter divorce.
What can I tell you?

...did you find a coed,
or did you have to
pay for this one?

I told her someone
was coming over.

She's just trying
to make trouble.

Pick up the phone,
you maggot!

Wake up
from your drunken stupor,

knock the passed out,
naked bimbo off your body,

and pick up
the goddamn phone.

Oh, shit.

- How do you
live with yourself?
- Oh, I love it.

Why do you poison
everyone you touch?

- Suck me.
- It wasn't enough
for you to just...

...fuck up my life,
you have to go ahead

and totally fuck up
your daughter's life, too.

[imitating Steven]
I'll pay for your tuition,

Right after I blow it on
horses, booze, and hookers.

- Jesus.
- How disgusting
can one human being be?

How can you look at yourself in the mirror and not throw up?

- What happened?
- ...miserable low-life...

What are you doing?

I'm leaving.

...excuse for a...

Come on, please.

She's-she's just bitter.

Please, stay.


Even if I was to ignore the fact
that you used me

like you do
all the young women

who you don't pay for sex,

I could never
be attracted to a man

who mistreats his daughter.

That's plain disgusting.

She lies about everything.

I-I don't even have
a daughter.





Hi, honey.

Hi, Dad. What's up?

Hey, listen, weren't you
gonna at least call me, and...

...wish me good luck?


Um, yeah...
I didn't have a chance.

You woke me up.

Oh, it's very nice to know
that you're making the most

out of your college experience.

Why are you whispering?

I don't want
to wake up Peter.

Lie to me, and tell me
that Peter is your cat.

Okay, Peter's my cat.

Thank you.

Hey, listen, sweetie pie...

...didn't you get my check
I sent to you, for your tuition?

Yeah, last week.

Did you tell your mother?

No, I haven't had a chance.

Oh, yeah, I know.
You've been...

...busy trying
not to wake up Peter,

but can you do me a favor
and call her?

Because she's been
stalking me again.

Um, sure, Dad.

What time is it?

I have to go.
Can we talk later?

Uh, yeah... oh.
Sure, okay.

Oh, and uh...

Peter the cat,

[phone clicks]
get the fuck out
of my daughter's bed!

[dial tone]


[plastic thud]


[♪ Loleatta Holloway:
"Hit and Run"]

♪ Ooh

♪ Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh

♪ Hit and run

Excuse me.

♪ Satisfied

♪ Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh

♪ I get satisfied
♪ Hit and run

What'll it be?

I'm here to see...
Mr. Segal.


Is that absolutely necessary?

I just rather
remain anonymous,
that's all.

That's not how it works.

Now, you gotta
give me your name, Jack.

Fred Wilson.



I got Fred WIlson.

You see those curtains?

Go through there,
and sit at a table.

Oh, well, you know,
if it's all the same to you,

I'll just wait out here.

Can I, um...

...a glass of water, please?



[music continues, muffled]



Hey, scumbag.

Glad you could
finally make it.

I told you 3:30.

Any time before 3:30.

Do you have any fuckin' idea
what time it is?

Must you be so abusive?


I mustn't be so abusive.

And I also mustn't
take out my switchblade

and stick it
in your fucking eye.

Wait here.

Um, can you... just get me
a glass of water?

I have a better idea.

Why don't I just get you
a nice margarita...

...and then I'll blow you.

[girl #1, muffled]
What the fuck are you doing
with that fucking money?

[girl #2, muffled]
You left it for me, asshole.

[girl #1]
Fuck you.
Give me my fucking dollar.

[girl #2]
Up yours!

[girl #1]
Get the fuck back over here
with my fucking dollar!

[sharp exhale]

Follow me.



[music cuts]

[old-timey music plays ♪]

Eh, come in, boys.
Come in.

Here he is, boss...

...Fred Wilson.

What, what?
I can't see?
I've got no eyes?

I can see
this is Fred Wilson.

Thank you very much,
Mr. Hoodlum.

That kid is meshugenah.

I must say, uh...

...I'm a bit surprised
to see you, Mr. Segal.

No, no, no, no, no, no.

Call me Sam.

What, what?
Am I better than you,

you should be calling me
Mr. Segal?



Sometimes my business
brings unpleasantness,

but I see no reason
to be unpleasant.

I'm not only surprised
that you're pleasant, Sam,

uh, but I must say, uh,
I'm surprised that...

...well, an
elderly Jewish person

would be in this kind
of business.

I mean, especially
in a town like Greenlawn.

You see, Fred,
I used to be a jeweler.

On 47th Street,
in Manhattan.

Heh, heh, ho,
that's tough business.

There are real sharks
in those waters.

I didn't want to
have to compete

like in the jewelry business,
so I came here, you know...

...where only goyimlive.

Now I don't have to compete
with the Yiddishe Kop.

They are killers.

Listen to what I'm telling you.

I-I-I can imagine.

So, let us take a look
at what we've got here.

You owe me
a quarter million dollars, hm?


And you want to place a bet
on tonight's game.

You want to bet St. Joe's,
even up, no line.

You want to bet $50,000
on St. Joe's,

which we are offering
at five to one.

That's exactly right.

Eh, but this
is the problem, Fred.

You owe me
a quarter of a million dollars.

That's a big tab to run up.

A lot of people
could not pay such a tab

in a million years.

Now, you want to bet
a five to one longshot

on St. Joes winning outright.

That would exactly
wipe the slate clean.

[exasperated sigh]

If I would owe somebody
more than I could pay,

I would be willing to
risk owing them even more

if I could have the last chance
to break even.

Oh, that's not what it is,
I swear.

Fred, Fred, Fred.

You are a nice guy, but... got to do something
more than swearing.

Look, I'm not stupid.

I know that I have to pay back
whatever I owe.

Here's my plan:

To pay you off,
I have to sell my house.

So, the thing is,
I can get $400,000 for it, easy.

So, if I have to pay you
the $250,00 I owe you now,

or the $300,000
if I lose tonight,

I still have to sell my house.
It makes no difference.

[tired groan]

Ah, this is what
I'm going to do.

I've seen your house.
I've seen the house.
It's beautiful.


There's no question about it.

You're gonna get a good price,
but first...

...I'm gonna have my lawyer
do a title search

to make sure
you really own the house.

And then a lien search
to make sure there are
no debts on it.

If it all checks out,
you're booked.

If St. Joe's loses,

then my
real estate department

will put your house
on the market,

and whatever we get
over 300 is yours.

If we don't sell within...

...45 days... give me the deed,
and move out.

What do I get?

Your life.

[funky r&b plays ♪]


Hey, handsome.
What's your pleasure?


Why don't you just sit down
here next to me... we can talk.


Sorry, but things as dirty
and potentially damaging

as talking
are strictly prohibited here.

However, if you'd like,

I can play with my tits
in your face

while I wiggle my ass
to the music.

I could live with that.


Oh, you never have to talk.

Do you know what?

I wouldn't mind telling you
about my day

if you wouldn't mind.


- Yeah?
- Oh, sure.

It was, a, uh, typical morning,
you know?

And from out of the blue,
I get this...

...I get this phone call
from this, uh...

...pretty cool woman,
you know, and she...

...wants to come over
to my place.

So she gets over, and, uh...

...she seduces me,
and then...

...right in the middle,
she stiffs me...

...and walks out.

[sharp exhale]

How far did she get?

Well... uh...

...she was giving me a... know.

A blowjob?

Exactly. Yeah.

But then, suddenly,
for absolutely no reason at all,

she gets up, she stops,
and leaves.


So what wold you like me
to do about it?


...I wouldn't mind
if you picked up
where she left off.



I bet you wouldn't.

So, hey, what?
What happened to the no...

...sitting and talking policy?

Yeah, I'm gonna
make an exception,
just this once.

You know, the only problem,
Mr. Basketball, is that

while I'm sure
the fascinating story

of your day is based on
some kernel of truth,

you are basically
just full of shit.

Now knowing
that what probably happened

is you lured a coed
back to your...

...immaculate apartment... impressed her
by humbly playing up

your celebrity, and then
leveraged it
for some cheap sex.

But somehow,
in the middle of the act,

just in the nick of time...

...she found out
who and what
you really are.


Why are you messing around
with coeds and strippers

on the day
of the championship game?

Does this mean
that you're not

gonna pick up
where she left off?

[derisive snort]

I don't think
what you need right now
is to get off.

What you need
is to get your shit together

so you're fresh
for the game.

But judging by
the way you look...'s probably too late
for that.

You really think
that what I do this afternoon

could possibly affect
my performance tonight?

Well, how could it be
any other way?


I'm good at the game.

That's what I'm good at.

Everybody's good
at something.

And I'm good
at the game.

My team couldn't have
a better chance

of winning this game
with any other coach

in the country.

I'm good at the game.

Then why don't you
just stop drinking already,

Straighten up, Coach.

A lot of people
are counting on you.

Get the fuck
back to work, Cassandra.

Oh, Christ.

Sorry, honey...

No, sweetheart...

...this one's on me.

You know...

I-I-I've been listening
very patiently,

and I remain

that the best thing for me
right now...

...wouldn't be a blow job.

[soft kiss]

Get it together, Coach.

What does that mean?

I don't know.

Maybe try jogging.



[splattering sound]

[pained exhale]


Good afternoon, Coach.

Afternoon, Bill.

People are still littering.

Those bastards.

Some people never change.

Hey, another
beautiful March afternoon

in Greenlawn, huh, Billy?

Oh, March in Greenlawn...

In like a lion,

out like a combination
between Cujo
and my relatives.

Cold bothers you so much,
why come out and jog?

Futile attempt at...

...trying to get my
blood circulating again.

Why don't you stop
trying to do to yourself

whatever it is
you're doing to yourself

that stops the blood
from moving in the first place?

Oh, try to do certain things...

...keep myself numb.


Bill, haven't you been
paying any attention?

Life sucks.

Come on, Coach.
Life's wonderful.

No, Bill.

You're wrong.

What are you, blind?
Don't you understand?

I mean, the more you
achieve in life...

...the less you have
to live for.

And then when you get
to where you wanna go,

where do you go from there?

I'm not blind.
I understand.

I'm where I want to be,
so I stayed there.

Oh, Christ, Bill... can you even claim
to understand what I'm sayin'

I mean,
with all due respect, Bill... say you're where
you want to be

and you're a garbage man.

Not even a garbage man
in a union, for Christ's sake.

And even if you were truly
where you wanted to be...

...what if you were
the kind of person

who just couldn't
stay anywhere forever?

Huh? Then what?

How could you know
you're not the kind of guy

who could
stay anywhere forever

before you got to where
you truly want to be.

All those years,
you went to the finals
with Kentucky,

you never won it all,
did you?

Perhaps you're not
where you want to be, yet.

And who knows?

Maybe you'll get there tonight.

Isn't it ironic?

You're happy,
and I'm...

...I'm miserable.

Can you imagine
how happy you'd be

if you were me?

I would have thought so,
before this conversation.

[hip hop music plays ♪]


That brother of yours
better get here soon.

I got things to do,
and I gotta be
in the locker room by 5:00.

Go to the fucking game.
I've got it covered.

Listen, munchkin,
you don't got nothing covered.

You only nine years old.

How much could you
possibly cover in nine years?

Damn, you spent
the first three years
of your life

trying to figure out
how not to shit
in your pants.

Face it, you only
nine years old,

and you don't know shit.

The only thing I have to face
is listening to this bullshit
all fucking weekend.

I thought you were cool.

Yeah, I'm cool.

I sleep with a different ho
every night.

Sometimes two, three
at a time.

I never go to classes,
you know that?

Some teachers pass me
just 'cause I'm on varsity.

Some fail me.

But it don't matter, right?

Been in this damn place
for the last four years.

Truth be told,
it'll probably take me
another four

just to get my degree.


Oh, right, that's
the funniest fucking thing
I ever heard.

See, that just shows you.
You don't know shit.

I'm one of the lucky ones.

I play ball, so I got to come
to this white ass, hick town

and go to school.

So what's the fucking point?

The point is I blew it.

When I got here,
I had an outside shot
at the NBA.

A chance to get a degree.

But I've thrown both away
because I had it covered.

Now it's over.

My team is playing in
the national championship game,

and I won't step
one foot on the court,

because I've been
such a dog.

And you know what
I'll probably do tomorrow?

Pack up all my stuff,

and go back to being
another nigga in the hood

who didn't amount to shit.

You understand
what I'm saying?

Learn from
other peoples' mistakes,

That's what makes you smart.

Lose the attitude.

Start learning
from other peoples' mistakes.

[creaking door]

For real... yeah, yeah.

Hey, wassup, homie?

Little homie,
what's up, baby?


So how ya two
gettin' along, huh?

Yo, Willie,
your boy here...

He's a walking
after school special.

Gettin' into my shit
since you left.

Tellin' me about
blowing his chances.

He's a fucking pussy.


Fuck you, Jerome.

[tense music playing ♪]
[announcer, on TV, speaking]

I think St. Joe's has got
a real chance to pull off
the upset tonight.

[second announcer]
Ah, come on, Phil.

What have you
been smoking?

I mean, how much
is the network paying you

to spread this propaganda
about a real game tonight?

No, I'm serious.

Look, you can't deny
that Adler's got this team

running like
the fine precision time piece

I'm wearing on my wrist.

[second announcer]
Listen very closely, Phil.

Montgomery Clarke
and his friends

are gonna come
to Podunk, New York

get up a full head of steam,
and crush the Red Wave,

and your fancy
precision time piece.

[dramatic vocal melody ♪]

[ominous chime]


[dissonant notes ♪]


[horn music ♪]

[heavy breathing]

[squeaking sound]

[music continues ♪]
[moaning sounds, from TV]


[rapid ticking]

[moaning, from TV]
[music continues ♪]

[male and female voices,


- Oh!
- Ah!

[loud moaning in unison]
[dog barking]

[station identification riff ♪]

ladies and gentlemen,

to the most magical evening
in college basketball.

It's the
national championship game,

featuring the Cinderella,
St. Joe's Red Wave,

and the Miami State Lightning.

I'm Kenny Albert,
along with my partner,
Batt Johnson,

as we come to you from...

...the tiny
MacDougall Gymnasium

in upstate
Greenlawn, New York.

A most unlikely
of venues.

Huddle up.

Huddle up!


Welcome to the
championship game.


It doesn't even feel
quite real yet, does it?

[tongue click]

You know how I know
that's how you feel?

Because there's not
one fucking single guy

in this locker room
who looks focused.


You're gonna walk out
on that court

with these scared,
chickenshit looks
on your faces...

...Miami will smell that
a mile away

and eat you
for fucking dinner.

So wipe those looks
off your faces

and show me
some intensity,

some focus.

You know...

...if you wear
focus and intensity
on the outside,

you can start feeling it
on the inside.

So show me.


Batt, as you know,
for the first time
a coin toss was held

to determine which team
in the championship game

would host the final.

Now this plan
came under much scrutiny,

in fact, the league
filed an injunction

to try and move the game
50 miles from here

to the Utica Civic Center,

however, St. Joe's fought,
and they prevailed.

[indistinct clamor]


I'd think it's important enough
to stress, one more time,

the four keys
in beating the Miami Lightning.

And trust me...

...if we commit
to these four keys,

I don't give a shit...

...what anyone says.

We have a chance
to beat these motherfuckers.

So let's go over 'em
one more time.

What the fuck...

Number one...


They're a better team.

So shorten the game.

Makes fuckin' sense.
How do you do that?



Number two...

...a patient
and disciplined offense.

I do not want to see a shot
other than a dunk or a lay-up,

until 20 seconds
have run off...

...that game clock.

Is that understood?


Alright, number two.

Foul hard.

Nothing easy.

Let me tell you something...

...they're gonna come at us
extra hard, right outta the gate

to see whether we back down,

so they can blow us out, or...

...whether we're gonna
dig down real, real deep...

...and give them everything
we fucking got.

You see,
if they don't intimidate us,

they can't blow us out.

You dig?


...if Montgomery...

...or any other of their
media fucking darlings...

...drives hard to the hoop...

...I want one of you guys
to either stuff the shot...

...or knock him
on his fucking ass.

Are you listening to me,
Mr. Terminator?

Foul hard.

Nothing easy.

Nothing easy!

[crowd booing]
[music playing ♪]

[indistinct jeering]

You believe we gotta play
in this shit box?

And these fans...

...when's the last time
they've been fed?

- You suck!
- Go home!
[many fans booing]

As you guys
probably know by now,

there's a guy on that team
named Montgomery Clarke.

You know, they have
many, many other

good players
on their team.

However, we have to
look to help out anybody...

...who is on Montgomery.

So I"m gonna send down
as many different guys

as I can, in a rotation...

...because we cannot
allow him... take over this game.
Is that understood?

Number four...


Ah, I'm sick of that name.

Trash talk.

Alright, Montgomery might be
the best player in the country.

Big fuckin' deal.

He's also
the number one trash talker
in this country.

I hate trash talk.


...if I coach Montgomery...

...I would insist upon it,
and you know why?

Because he thrives on it.

Therefore, you guys,
under no circumstances,

and I repeat,
under no circumstances,

engage him
when he trash talks.

You got it?


I mean, come on...

...let's face it, huh...

...most people think
it's a fuckin' miracle

that we're here
in the first place.

[derisive sniff]

You guys got
nothin' to prove.

In the eyes
of the entire fucking world,

you guys are heroes,
regardless what happens tonight.

Oh, but man, if we win..., oh fuckin' man...

[snickers] guys better be prepared
to hear about yourselves...


Every fucking year
around this time in March...

...the night
the impossible happened... butt-fucking Greenlawn.

[agreeing chuckles]

You know, I've been
to the big dance before.

You know that.

And I know
what a team looks like...

...when they're ready.


...I always fuckin'
played against them.


But now... guys are ready.

[crowd chanting, muffled]

Hands in!

One, two, three...

[team, in unison]
Red Wave!

[crowd chanting]
We are...
[clap clap]

...St. Joe's!
[clap clap]

We are...
[clap clap]

...St. Joe's!
[clap clap]

We are...
[clap clap]

...St. Joe's!
[clap clap]

[chanting continues]
[fans hollering]

- Come on, Red Wave!
- Go! Go! Yeah!

[crowd erupts]

[indistinct cheering
and hollering]

Well, Kenny, as you know,

some of the original thinking
behind the rule change

was to try to introduce
a little excitement
into the finals,

and as you can tell
by what's going on
in Greenlawn right now,

they've definitely
achieved that.

Ju-just listen to this crowd.

Isn't this exciting?

Our little baby...

...on national TV.

Can you hardly wait?

[Kenny, on TV]
...championship game
brought to you by

AppleCore Hotels.

When you're
visiting Manhattan
for work or for play,

check out AppleCore's
convenient midtown locations.

AppleCore Hotels,
right in the middle
of the Big Apple.

[liquid sloshing]

Welcome back
to our coverage

of the national championship.

As hard to believe
as this may be,

Coach Adler wasn't always
a basketball coach.

You see,
an intellectual by nature,

Steven Michael Adler graduated
from Harvard Law School,

and after a very brief
and unsuccessful legal career,

he became a
high school basketball coach.

Not just any high school
basketball coach,
but one of the best.

From there, he moved on
to the University of Kentucky,

where he took
five different teams

to the championship game.

However Adler was never able
to bring home the big one.

He did not win
any national titles.

Adler then moved on
to St. Joe's,

and it has never really been
quite clear what caused him

to leave Kentucky,
although many rumors

circulated about a run-in
between Adler

and the University of Kentucky

[rock music ♪]


Daddy, you're home.


Good afternoon...

...Dean Phillips.


Yes, Steven Adler
has been dabbling in sports

for quite some time, now.

He's certainly
been through a lot,

but seems to be back
on the right track once again.

And we'll be back
with more

from the
national championship game

right after these messages.

[band playing ♪]

Two, four, six, eight!
Lightning strikes Miami's...


[surprised yell]

[crowd noise continues]

[in unison]

Da da, da da.

Da da, da da!

[station identification riff ♪]

Welcome back
to our coverage

of the
national championship game.

As everybody knows,
tonight's game features

two of the nation's
best coaches,

as well as
the nation's top player.

It does not feature
another player

whose career has taken
a bit of a different path,

as our Batt Johnson explains,
on a tale of two players.

Well, you know,
four years ago

Montgomery Clarke
was the leading scorer

at Brooklyn High,
averaging 27 points a game
in his senior year.

The second highest scorer
on that team

was another senior,
Harrison Williams.

He averaged
20 points a game,

and together, they were
a strong duo.

Now Harrison was considered
a schoolyard legend

for his work on the blacktop,
Montgomery was considered

a more disciplined player,
and therefore

had a lot more to invest in.

Montgomery got
the high profile scholarship

with Miami,
and then Harrison

got the low profile scholarship with St. Joe's.

Montgomery made the most
of his opportunity,

working his way
toward becoming

the best player
in the country.

And, although unfortunately,
this Cinderella story

of St. Joe's
is somewhat inspiring,

the sad fact is that
Harrison may very well
not make it into the game.

And again, he usually doesn't.

It's just another sad case
of the schoolyard legend

throwing away his potential.

What the fuck are you doing?

What happened?

[unidentified player]
It's a spill, coach.

What are you sitting around
watching that
horseshit television for?

You're gonna tighten up
before tip off.

Get the fuck on the court,
stay stretched.


What's this, a pick up game?


[crowd noise fades]
[dramatic chord ♪]

[crowd noises]

Coach, I gotta talk to you.

Hold on a sec.

Talk to me?

What, now?

You know I'm a little busy

with the game
starting so soon,
you know what I mean?

It's important.

Oh, Christ.
What's up?

You gotta start me, Coach.

You gotta start me,
and let me play Monte.

I want Monte,
straight up.

You want Monte.

Jesus Christ.

What kind of fucking balls
do you have, man?

The whole goddamn year
all you wanted

was to sit
on your goddamn lazy ass

and just get by, and now...

...fucking now,
I'm supposed to believe

that you can
work hard enough
to cover Monte?

Oh, man.

Look, I feel really badly
about them

showing that tape
at the game, live here.

But who the fuck
do you think you're looking at,

I'm not gonna blow
a championship game

just to give you a chance
that you haven't come
anywhere near deserving.

It's not just my chance.

It's the team's chance.

Face facts.
We don't have a prayer

throwing one guy after another
on Monte.

We need somebody
to knock him off his rhythm.

Who better than somebody
who's done it before?

You saw that schoolyard D.

I swatted his shit.

I did it before,
and I can do it again.

Man, your work ethic...'ll probably
walk off the court

as soon as you spot
the first decent piece of ass
in the stands.

Do I sound like the man
who didn't work?

Do I even
resemble that person
right now?

I'll give you this:

You've shown me
more intensity

in the last two minutes
than you have
the whole damn year.

You know I'm our only hope
against Monte.

[dramatic hit ♪]

[dramatic hit ♪]
[crowd cheering]

It's certainly a pleasure
to be with you

on such a happy occasion.

It's also my pleasure
and my honor

to present the
Most Productive Citizen award

to the honorary captain of
the St. Joe's basketball team,

our own...
Father Edward Donahue.

[band starts ♪]

[band cuts]

It brings me great joy

to be acknowledged
for my accomplishments.

Thank you.

And go Red Wave!

[crowd erupts]

The excitement in the air
is beyond electrifying

as we await the start
of tonight's game.

[air horn bleet]
The St. Joe's fans realize that,

win or lose, this is
a once in a lifetime experience

and they plan to
make the most of it.


Yeah! Woohoo!


[stadium announcer]
Starting for
the Miami State Lightning

at guard, a junior
from Baltimore, Maryland,

number 25, Steven Woods.

Starting for
the St. Joe's Red Wave,

at guard, a sophomore from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania,

number 13,
Anthony Tompkins.

Well this should be

an interesting match up.

The strong, aggressive Woods
versus the scrappy Tompkins.

And Woods certainly has
the size advantage

over Tompkins,
but Tompkins is a deceptively talented athlete.

[stadium announcer]
... a senior
from Brooklyn, New York,

number 21,
Montgomery Clarke.

[fans boo]

[announcer continues]
Starting for
the St. Joe's Red Wave

at forward, a senior
from Brooklyn, New York,

number 18,
Harrison Williams.

Well, I'll be damned.

Uh huh.

Adler starts Williams
against Clarke?

What can Adler
possibly have up his sleeve?

I don't know.
I guess we're gonna find out.

What are you, nuts, Adler?
Why are you
startin' that scrub?

What you staring at?

Turn around
before I throw you a beatin'.

[horn buzzing]

Alright, Harrison starting
changes nothing
about our game plan.

He's just the first guy in
on the rotation
against Montgomery.

Now remember,
we have to shorten the game,

with our disciplined offense,

and our tough,
in-your-face, defense.

We gotta break our asses

against those
big motherfuckers.

If you're gonna foul,
foul fucking hard.

And if you're not
guarding Montgomery,

look to rotate over
and help out.

And remember,
no trash talking
at Montgomery Clarke.

You can't take away
my weapons, Coach.

You gotta let me
do it my way.

I'll tell you what,
Mr. Big Shot,

do whatever the
fuck you want

because as soon
as it goes bad

your ass is on the bench
to stay.

Now, come on, gentlemen.
This is it. Hands in.

- One, two, three.
- Red Wave!

Batt, what does St. Joe's
need to do

in order to beat
the very talented

Miami State Lightning.

Well, for starters,
I just hope

they did a lot praying.

I guess that couldn't hurt.


[crowd noises]

[hand slaps]

[air horn bleet]

So ironic...'re the sacrificial lamb.

It's not gonna work
on me, bro.

I didn't get recruited
by mighty Miami.

They don't teach us
big words like that

here in Greenlawn.

[under breath]
Stupid motherfucker.

[crowd noise softens]
[tense chord sustains ♪]

[slow motion]
Let's go, St. Joe's!

[bass note ♪]





[crowd cheering]

And we're under way!

Woods brings the ball up,

as Miami passes it around
the perimeter.

[squeaking shoes]
[bouncing ball]

They find Clarke,
wide open on the baseline.


And a superb scoring touch
demonstrated by
Montgomery Clarke.

He'll have to challenge him
more than that.

He'll make that shot
nine out of ten times.

You know that's my range.

You better play me out there.

Harrison, play him tight up top.
You got help.

Looks like you're gonna need
some help.

[air horn]

Woods blankets Tompkins
as he brings it up court.

Tough D.

I think its important, Batt, for St. Joe's, psychologically,

to get a good shot here
on their first possession.

Yeah, that's exactly right.

Boy, St. Joe's is running
a very complicated
motion offense.

Certainly a far cry
from the running type offenses

Adler used with his
very talented teams

at Kentucky.



[cheers erupt]

Beautiful sequence
for the Red Wave,

working hard
to find an open shot

for Ice Davis.

And Adler's got to feel good
about that.

Miami State heads
back up court on offense,

and they spread the floor.

White passes to Woods.
Gets it over to Johnson.

Johnson, once again,
finds Clarke

at the same spot
on the baseline,

guarded by Williams.

Sure that's close enough?

[shoe squeak]

Uh oh, here he goes!

[dramatic music ♪]




[crowd erupts]

Oh, my!
From out of nowhere!

Harrison Williams came over
and made a huge statement,

rejecting his high profile,
ex-high school teammate's shot.

[fans hooting]

Not in my house,

Take that
to your mother!

In your face!
In your face!

Miami State inbounds
to Panama Johnson,

and he throws up a brick!

That can't be the shot
Coach Skinner wanted.

Very upset on the bench.

St. Joe's, back up court,
into their pick and move
offense, once again.

You know, Batt,
it's certainly too early to tell

whether St. Joe's
will be able to

give the Lightning a real fight,

but I'll tell you what,

St. Joe's does not seem
the least bit intimidated

by Miami State.

[slow whoosh]

[dramatic clunk]

[crowd erupts]

Oh, my!

It's Rose and Williams
once again!

This time,
cutting back door

for the slam dunk,
and St. Joe's

takes an
unexpected, early lead.

The Miami State players
look a little stunned right now.

And after settling
for two outside shots so far,

I think you can look for them
to take it inside,

and assert themselves
against a smaller
St. Joe's team.

And a strong move
to the hoop!



[whistle blows]

Oh, a very aggressive foul
by two Red Wave players,

Wilford and Williams.

It sure looks like
St. Joe's is out here tonight

to play for keeps.

That's how you want
the game to go, punk?

Alright, we'll play
that game with you.

Oh, it's on, partnah.

I'm bringing the noise,
the ruckus, the funk...

- I'm bringing it all,
so you be ready.
- Alright, whatever.

Oh, look at those two
jawing at each other again.

This is not shaping up
to be the game we expected,
ladies and gentlemen.

Hold on tight,
these two teams

look ready
to slug it out all night.

[funk music playing ♪]

Here they come,
it's a two on one break...

...and Montgomery Clarke
slams it home!

But the Red Wave still lead
by three.

[music continues ♪]

[crowd cheering]

[loud grunt]

And it's Harrison Williams
with the follow!

[announcers, players, crowd
voices overlapping]

...the Lightning know
the Red Wave lead by nine.

[funk music continues ♪]

Oh, my!
The Red Wave seem...

Way to help out.
Good foul!

[horn section crash ♪]
[piano and drums ♪]

[rising whoosh]

It's Harrison Williams,
nailing the corner jumper!

And St. Joe's lead
is back to five.

Fierce rebound.
Look at those elbows fly!

Tough full court D
by St. Joe's.

They're not giving
the Lightning an inch.

And Harrison Williams

ties up Montgomery Clarke...
[whistle blowing]

...for a jump ball.

Yet another great play
by Harrison Williams.


John "the Terminator" Wilford

muscles his way inside.

It's now 31-26, St. Joe's.



Oh, fantastic effort

to try and save it
by Harrison Williams,

who is playing
like a man possessed, tonight.


Work for me, baby!

Oh, look, Fred!
There's Suzie!

God, I want that ass.


I'm working.

[funk music playing ♪]

The St. Joe's movement
is so pronounced now

it almost looks
like a weave drill.

They kick it out
to Harrison Williams...

... and he hits
the open jump shot!

Boy, this is shaping up
to be one of the best

finals in years!

St. Joe's has numbers
on the fast break.

Come on, come on.

And the blown layup

is followed
by Harrison Williams!

Yes, yes, yes!


Rare inside bucket
for the Lightning,

and it's 35-30.

St. Joe's fast break
is finished by the center,
Jim Shaughnessy,

and the Red Wave lead
is back up to seven.

Right there, right there.

Oh, the Red Wave

really making Miami State
earn that bucket.

Gorgeous passing sequence
by the Red Wave.

Go, Red Wave!

Go, Red Wave!

Montgomery fires
from the outside...


...nearly ripping the net
in two.

Taylor, driving
right through the heart

of the Miami State defense
for the score!

[crowd cheering]

That's the end
of this very surprising

and very entertaining
first half

of championship basketball,

with the upstart
St. Joe's Red Wave

leading the
Miami State Lightning

by the score of 41-34.

Where are you going?

To the bathroom.

What are you talking about?

Well, dear,
I really have to go.

Do you want to be
in the bathroom

while our daughter
dances on national television?


Of course, you're right.
I lost my head.

How could I think
of missing our Suzie?

I can always go
after her big number.

This is a
very dangerous halftime.

You know why it's dangerous?

Because you guys
played a perfect half.

But I wouldn't get
too proud of yourselves,
you know why?

Because people
don't remember teams

that played perfect halves
in championship games.

They only seem to remember
teams that have won...

...the fucking championships.

And we're only up
seven points.

What do you think
Miami would be up

if they played a perfect half?

Bet your ass,
it'd be more than seven points.

Be more like
forty fuckin' seven.

I hate to shock you...

...but we have
another half to play.

We're gonna
stay focused.

We're gonna be
smart and patient
on offense.

We're gonna rotate
on defense,

and never allow
anything easy.

You guys keep doing
what you're doing,

and we are 20 minutes away
from history.

Oh, and, Harrison...

...I was wrong.

You can trash talk
that motherfucker

'til he cries.


Alright, everybody in.
Come on!

[stadium announcer]
...halftime aerobics team...

One, two, three!

Red Wave!

[hooting, cheering]

Well, we're just about ready
to start the second half

of our championship game.

It was certainly
an exciting first half,

as the Cinderella,
St. Joe's Red Wave,

attempt to complete
the final chapter

of their fairy tale season.

And St. Joe's game plan, Batt,
has proven to be brilliant,

and their execution,
nothing short of perfection.

Hey, Kenny Albert!

I'm gonna come down there
after the game

and make you my boy toy!

[psychotic laughter]


what an obnoxious woman.

- Hi.
- Hi.

David Swinn, Flash Models.

- And you are...?
- Suzie Wilson.


So, tell me, babe.

Have you ever done
any acting or modeling?

- Well, nothing really, yet.
- No?

But I'm going to
after graduation.

I'm moving to New York.

Oh, good for you.
You have any representation?

You mean like an agent?

Yeah, what else?

Not yet.

One of these your bags?

That one.

You ever want to talk
about representation

after you graduate,
you give me a call.

My office is on
Madison and 53rd, okay?

- Okay?
- Okay.

Keep smiling.


As the teams assemble
on the floor,

the mood seems very different

than it was
when the game started.

Yep, the St. Joe's players

are really carrying themselves
as Miami State's equals, now.

I looked up the meaning
of sacrificial lamb
at halftime...

...I think you
misusing the reference.

The Lightning inbound the ball
to begin the second half.

And it's Montgomery
breaking free to the hoop.


Reference that.

Ooh, big alley-oop dunk
by Montgomery Clarke,

and that's gotta
send a shiver

down Adler's spine.

And Tompkins looks
to settle St. Joe's down

as he sets the offense.

St. Joe's keeps the ball
on the perimeter.

And some
really aggressive defense

from Miami State, here.

The Red Wave
seem a bit flustered.

[indistinct trash talk]

[Kenny] Boy, Miami State is relentless.

And it seems they've finally
gotten their wake-up call.

St. Joe's continues
to work it around.

And the steal by the Lightning,

caused by
that swarming defense.

Very aggressive defense.

And now the Lightning
march up court on offense.

The ball goes into the post.

Back out to the perimeter.

Nothing easy, come on!
Nothing easy!

And they find Clarke,
open in the corner


Uh oh, this could be
the beginning

of one of those
famous Lightning runs.

When they get started,
there's no stopping them.

St. Joe's, once again,
looks tentative on offense.

Adler screaming at his players
to come to the ball.

Will you help out?
Come on, help him out!

Ref, timeout!

[whistle blows]


And Adler calls
a much needed
St. Joe's timeout.

Boy, the Red Wave
really having trouble

getting started here,
in the second half.


Am I the only guy with eyes
on this fucking team?

Can you not see
that they're not in
a man-to-man anymore?

They fell into a zone trap.

Here's what we're gonna do.

We'll have Tim
flashing in the middle.

Ice and Harrison on the wings.

When Tim gets the ball
from the front,

the two wingmen
will cut to the basket.

we'll get a cheap hoop,

and those morons will go back
and play man-to-man.

Now get back out there,
and don't embarrass me.

Hands in.

One, two, three.

Red Wave!

Come on!

St. Joe's, Batt,
seems to be having problems

running its offense,
which was so effective

in the first half.

Well, what's happening
is that Miami State

is throwing a zone defense
at them,

and it's really giving St. Joe's a lot of trouble right now.

Well, let's see if Adler
has an answer

for the tough,
second half defense

of the Lightning, here.

[whistle blows]

[dramatic chord sustain ♪]

Here's the double team.

St. Joe's keeps it
on the outside.

Here comes Davis!

[rising whoosh]



[crowd cheers]

[celebratory grunt]

There's your answer.


In your face!

[funk music playing ♪]

Davis nails another for three!

St. Joe's, back up by four.

[crowd boos]

St. Joe's comes back
on a fast break...

...they go up by four.

The St. Joe's shot
is missed,

and the rebound gathered in
by Montgomery Clarke.

St. Joe's goes inside... the follow...

...and the Miami State center
sweeps the boards
with authority!

The Lightning steal the ball,
and go in for the slam dunk.

Miami trail St. Joe's
by only three.

Give some fucking help!

An uncharacteristically
quick shot...

- Time out!
- ... by the Red Wave.

Time out, time out!

[whistle blows]

Do you happen to recall
anything I might have said

about some keys to winning?

Nothing but dunks,
or fucking layups...
[Adler's voice overlaps itself]

Does that ring
a goddamn bell?

From now on,
I'm going to allow
three pointers.

...inspire me to change...

...I'm gonna sit
your fucking ass
on the fucking bench

for the rest
of the fucking game.

[horn section ♪]

The perimeter jumper is...


And St. Joe's
leads by three.

Oh, pretty follow
by Larry White.

into the front court...

...he drives the lane.

[whistle blows]
Oh, a tough foul
as he gets drilled.

I think Adler
is reminding Tompkins

to pay the premium
on his health insurance.

Oh, nifty reverse layup
by Davis.

St. Joe's leads by four.

White shoots, and hits...

...bringing Miami State
within three.

Clarke, who's playing
true to his form

here in the second half,


And the Lightning
close to within one.

Uh oh, St. Joe's
has finally lost the cushion

they've played with
throughout much of this game.

And Montgomery Clarke
has dominated

here in the second half.

Yeah, it's really
nail-biting time

here in Greenlawn, now.

If St. Joe's doesn't score,
Montgomery and the Lightning

have the opportunity
to take the lead

for the first time
in this game.

St. Joe's working it around
very tentatively on offense...

You get the sense
they really feel the pressure.

[crowd noises]

And the shot is...

... no good!

[crowd aahs]

- Shit.
- It's finally corralled... Miami State.

Miami State coming up court
with a chance
to take the lead.

Montgomery Clarke driving,
and he slams it home,

with just over
a minute remaining.


The Lightning take the lead
for the first time

since early in the first half.

Let me say it
one more time: Uh oh.

St. Joe's brings it up court

with just under
one minute to play,

and they're in desperate need
of a basket, now,

or it could all slip away.

Yep, this seems like a real
do-or-die possession

for the Red Wave.

And the St. Joe's shot is...

[thunk] the rim!

- The rebound is grabbed
by the Lightning!
- Oh!

And the dreams
of the Cinderella

Red Wave faithful
seem to be fading fast.

The Red Wave,
in real trouble here.

Get outta here!

The Lightning continue
to run time off the clock.

They lead by one
with only 20 seconds

left in the game.

14 seconds on the shot clock,
so they can't run it out.

- Good D!
[crowd chanting]
- Defense! Defense!

Defense! Defense!
[clap clap]

Call a timeout
after the rebound!

[crowd chant continues]

Clarke takes
the eight footer...

...he misses!

Rebounded by
Harrison Williams.

[noises of crowd support]

Time out, time out!

[whistle blows]

St. Joe's calls timeout.

They trail Miami State
by only one,

74-73, with three seconds

Montgomery Clarke
had the chance to extend

Miami State's lead to three,
but he blew the easy jumper,

and St. Joe's
can actually win it

with a basket.


Three seconds left.

It's ours to win.


We've been running
these fucking guys around

all night long,
and we're gonna do it

for three more
fuckin' seconds.

Let's run Blue 18.

Ice, you're the decoy.

Harrison, you're the shooter.

You've gotten us
this far tonight,

now take us home, baby.

Let's go.
Come on everybody, hands in.

Let's go, baby.
Let's go!

One, two, three!

Red Wave!

[air horns bleeting]

[Kenny] It will certainly be interesting

to see whose number
Adler called

to take the final shot.

The logical choice, I think,

would be St. Joe's
best scorer, Ice Davis,

whose had another
excellent game tonight,

but if Davis
can't get a good look,

then someone else
will have to step up
for the Red Wave.

Harrison Williams
could be a candidate.

He's got 23 points tonight.

St. Joe's lines up in a stack.


They're muscling up intensely
for position.

[dramatic tone ♪]


[whoosh sound]

[dissonant creaking]

[pom poms rustling]

[fabric flapping]


[dramatic percussion hit]

[ethereal screaming sound]

[dramatic tone]

[dramatic percussion hit]


[slow-motion vocalization]

Now the stack breaks...

...Ice Davis runs free
to the corner...

Shaughnessy with
the pump fake to Davis.

He throws it cross court...

... to a wide open
Harrison Williams.

Williams squares....

[dramatic percussion hit]

He's got the shot lined up...

[rising whoosh]

[dramatic percussion hit]

[high pitched tone]

... and the shot
by Williams is...


[glass shatters]

[dull thud]

[clinking glass]

[crowd screaming]


[indistinct yelling]

[rapid footsteps]


[screaming continues]

Oh, my God!
Oh, my God!

Oh, my God... Fred...

What's happening?

I don't know.

Do you think
our Suzie's alright?


[stadium announcer]
Please, remain calm

while we deal with
this unfortunate situation.

[Kenny] It's not clear what's going on.

The ball and backboard
both exploded suddenly.

There's a commotion
in both balconies.

[Moron Boy]
[indistinct vocalizations]

Get off of me!

I got you!
You're nothing!

I got you!


Somebody help her, please.

[hysterical stammering]

[stadium announcer]
Ladies and gentlemen,
please remain calm.

The situation
is under control.

Please, please
remain calm

while we deal with this unfortunate situation.

Please, remain seated.


W-we'll be right back.

We'll try and sort out
this unfortunate incident.

Let me ask you a question.

Are we just gonna
stand around here
holding our dicks,

or can we repair
the fiberglass
in the backboard

and finish the fucking
national championship?

A woman was just shot
before our eyes.

Do you know,
on the day of

the 1981 championship game,
President Ronald Reagan

and his Press Secretary,
James Brady,

were shot
on national television?

And they played the game
that night.

They played the game
on the same day

that two
very, very important people

were gunned down.

Now, with all due respect,
this woman was not

the President
of the United States,

or its Press Secretary,

but she was a very loud
and obnoxious person

who was giving everyone
in this gymnasium

a migraine.

You ain't kidding.

And the game in '81
hadn't even started

before the President was shot.

Now, here
we've already invested

39 minutes
and 57 seconds

of a 40 minute contest.

Now, really,
given that perspective,

don't you think it's appropriate
that we finish
the fucking game?

[crowd cheering]
[dramatic music playing ♪]

[whistle blows]

We will place three seconds
on the game clock

[heavy chime ♪]
Alright you guys,

listen very closely.

I'm gonna give you
a little lesson

about luck.

it's better to be lucky

than good.


...was that woman,
who just took

a bullet to the head,


That's right.

Yeah, the woman
who just got shot
in the head

was not lucky.

Hey, Davis...

...were the cheerleaders lucky

when they suffered lacerations
on their faces and bodies?


That's right.

The sliced up cheerleaders
were not lucky.



...were you lucky
when your shot...

...was blown out of midair?

You bet your sweet ass
you were fucking lucky!

Because that shot
had no chance

of going in!

You know why?

Because you choked up, man.

And you had no followthrough.

That ball had no rotation,

and had no fucking
chance in hell of going in.

So you were
damn fucking lucky

that your shot
was blown out of midair.

In fact,
it was a fucking miracle.

And all you cats
go to a Catholic school,

so you should know
how precious...

...miracles are.

And if you are
fortunate enough

to be graced
by a miracle... should
fucking embrace it!

Not fucking waste it.

That piece of shit shot
being gunned down

was a fucking miracle!
[up-tempo gospel playing ♪]

So don't waste
the fucking miracle!

Alright, we're gonna line up... the same formation.

And they're gonna think
it's a fucking decoy

because we would never
run the same play twice,

but, we are.

Blue 18.
Ice, you are the decoy.

And Mr. Harrison,
you are the shooter.

And follow through this time.

Do us a favor.

Alright, hands in!

One, two, three!

[in unison]
Red Wave!

...yes, thank you.

They're taking her
to St. Vincent's Hospital.

Get your coat,
and let's go.

Come on.

Come on,
I want to be waiting

when she gets there.

My God..., my baby!

Just sit down,
there's only three seconds left.

You monster!

That could be three seconds
that our baby

is living this tragedy
without us by her side.

Sit down, and shut up
until the game is over!

[whistle blows]

After what has to be
one of the most

bizarre incidents
in college basketball history,

we're about to finish
the championship game...


St. Joe's
breaks out of the stack

it looks to be
the exact same play!

takes the inbounds pass...

...squares to shoot...

[dramatic percussion ♪]

[drum hit]
[crowd erupts]

It's all over!
It's all over!

The Cinderella story
is finally complete!

In what has to be
the most incredible finish...

[indistinct celebratory sounds]
[raucous cheering]

We're number one!
We're number one!...

Ye-e-es! Yes!

[melodic vocal celebration]

[Helen sobbing]
[Fred vocalizing joyously]

[Fred laughs]
Oh, God!

[Helen shrieks]

[Fred continues]

[flash bulb poof]

[reporters, calling]
- Harrison! Harrison!
- Harrison, over here!

[male reporter]
When was it decided
you would start

against your old teammate?

I can't give away
all the coach's secrets now,
can I?


All I can really say is...

...I thank God
he came up with the idea...

...and that
he had faith in me...

[camera click]

...that I had faith in myself.


God gives each one of us
a calling.

[camera clicks]

And I'm just glad that...

...mine led to the apprehension
of a criminal.

[camera click]


[male reporter]

What's the most
satisfying thing

about the win tonight,

Oh, the accomplishment
of the kids, come on.

They came so far,
and they, uh...

...proved they
had the stamina, huh.

Oh, and man,
it was so beautiful

to see Harrison
come of age tonight.

That was really beautiful.

[camera clicks]

[female reporter]

Now that you've
won a championship,

especially in
such a dramatic fashion,

do you think it will affect you, as a person, in any way?

I mean, do you think
the experience changed you?

[camera clicking]

[sharp inhale]




...I think you had
coffee, regular...

...and a very large
glass of orange juice, madame.

Thank you.

Our pleasure.

[♪ Three Dog Night: "Shambala"]