The Fan (1996) - full transcript

Excited and anxious
I await my dream

To escape, applaud
And embrace my team

Opening day I always can trust

It's just for this high that I crazily lust

Return of our hero
Does brighten the days

Just briefly
My troubles get lost in the haze

The grace from the field
Arouses the crowd

Reflects on the days
When I was quite proud

I'm more entranced
Than the average fan

I used to play, you see
And I know I still can

That time I drove the ball
With such loft



My exit atop shoulders
As they carried me off

This pastime and I just fade into one

Expanded upon from father and son

My boy is young
And awkward for now

I just need the time
I can show him how

I really am quite close
Just a break away

From straightening things out
And being okay

I can help my team to regain its glory

With just a little twist
To the same old story

Players say now
They play for themselves

This causes a burning within me
That dwells

The fan is the one
Who pays for the game

Which bestows all the riches
And welcomed fame

The players will listen
But don't really hear



All the while just hiding
Behind an invisible tear

I grow tired now of all this greed

And chart a course to set things free

Okay, we got our first caller.
Is that Gil on the cellular?

Yes, sir, it sure is.

What do I hear
in the background, Gil?

That's my Giant's watch.
I'm late for work.

Giant's watch, great.
What do you got for us, Gil?

It's just, I'm really psyched.

Opening day's tomorrow.
We're all psyched.

This is different.
I've been waiting a long time for this.

-What are you waiting for?
-Bobby Rayburn.

Giants got him.
We're going all the way.

What would you bet on that
if you were a betting man?

I'd bet everything I own,
that's for sure.

I like this guy. You think Rayburn's
worth the 40 mil?

.310 lifetime batting average? He's
worth twice that. Three times that.

I bet he'd love to hear you say that.
Let's get him on the line.

You're getting him on the line?

Yes, we are, Gil. Hang on.
Let's find Bobby.

When we come back we will,
hopefully, be talk to Bobby Rayburn.

Great.

You got Rayburn on the line yet? Who
the fuck does this guy think he is?

-Three-time National League MVP?
-That gives him the right...

-...to fuck up my show?
-I got Rayburn on the line.

We got him!

-And go.
-Welcome back.

Here we are with the hopes
and dreams of all Giants fans.

Ex-Braves center fielder
and league RBI champ...

...for the last 5 years, local boy
come home, Bobby Rayburn.

How you doing, Bobby?

Jewel, how you doing? Good to be
talking to you.

I wanna tell you, I love your show.

-Thanks a lot.
-Bobby, this is Bernie--

We got crazed fans on the line
dying to talk to you.

But first, how does it feel
to be back in the Bay Area?

It's great! You know, Jewel,
I grew up here.

Yeah, the Giants are my homies.

Good to hear.
But let me ask you this:

We all know you're famous
for your dedication to perfection.

You're one of the hardest-working
player in the league.

-Don't forget good-looking.
-But come on, now...

...Bobby baby, do you honestly think
you are worth 40 million semolians?

He's one of the best player
in the league.

Wait. I'm glad you asked me
that question.

I don't like to put a money value
on a human being.

But I do think I have given 100 percent
to every franchise I played with.

That a way, Bobby!

Thanks for not answering
my question.

-Retreat, retreat.
-She's a riot.

Now, Bobby, what about the fans?
Don't you think all this money...

-...will raise their expectations?
-I hope so.

I consider myself a baseball fan first
and a player second.

In baseball,
the fans are what it's all about.

Damn straight. You tell them, Bob.

What about the Juan Primo
controversy?

Giants' center fielder since 1990.

Now you come in and bumped him
to the left. Some may resent that.

Bitch!

I don't think Primo is one of them.
The guy is a team player.

That's what makes him a great player.
I look forward to playing with him.

That's great, Bobby.
Let's get back to our callers. Gil?

Am I on the air?

Yes, you are, Gil.

Jewel, why do you always
have to be so negative?

Come on, I'm a sweetheart.

He's making a lot of money. If they
offered it to you, you'd turn it down?

-Hell, no.
-You wouldn't. You'd be nuts.

So why is everybody down on him
because he's not nuts? Bitch.

-You got a point. I apologize.
-Bobby, you listening?

Hell, yeah! I sure am.
Thanks for backing me up, man.

No problem. It's a pleasure. Just
remember where you heard it first.

I no schmuck. I played the game.
I know what I'm talking about.

I grew up on the Giants.

My old man brought the family
out here when the Giants moved here.

I've watched you since you hit
that grand slam in the seventh...

...in the '82 city championships.
You remember that?

That's when I saw you as somebody
really special. You never let me down.

So when you come together,
Rayburn and the Giants...

...that's like a magical conjunction.

It's like the alignment of the planets.
You'll take us all the way.

-Who said it first?
-You did, Gil. You did.

Thataway, Bobby!

-We hope so.
-Bobby, let's talk about your divorce.

Jesus Christ!
Look, I just got to the ballpark.

I'm really sorry, gotta go.
Really enjoyed talking to you.

Anytime, Bobby. Good luck out there.
We will be right back.

I'm so surprised he hung up,
aren't you?

Press conference in one hour.

The Giants haven't had a 1-2 punch
like this since Mays and McCovey.

Joining the list of bullshit excuses:

We've had a lot of whining...

...about product quality from certain
members of our sales force.

Example: the Iwo Jima line.

Gil, you see
any quality problems there?

The blade's too thin,
pommel's too light.

There's a half-tang hidden there.

Maybe that's why
you haven't been selling.

Sweet.

Somebody made a mistake, man.
I wear number 11.

-I'm sorry, I didn't know.
-It's cool. Don't worry about it.

Manny, just handle it.

Me?
I think this knife is an ass-kicker.

This door, on the other hand,
comes off a foreign car.

Need I say more?

Why are you guys still here?

There's been a glitch, okay?
Nobody's fault.

-I've been working on it.
-What's a glitch?

Details that hasn't
been worked out yet.

-Permutation that happens--
-What, with my number?

Yeah, with your number.

No, no, no. Look, Manny,
you know I wear number 11.

So there shouldn't be
any problem, right?

It is a problem. Primo wears 11.

Tickets in yet?

Tickets? What tickets?

-Opening day.
-You got other things to worry about.

I'll let you in on a little secret.

You came this close
to kissing pavement.

-How about that close?
-Yeah.

Management had you on the list.
I talked them out of it.

-Don't make me regret it.
-Thanks, massa.

Okay, fuck it.

I'm not playing with number 33.
You understand me?

I understand. Just be cool.
Let me take care of it.

Three times 11 is 33.
Maybe you'll play 3 times better.

Thanks, I'll talk to you in a minute.

Jesus Christ died at 33,
and people still talk about him.

-Jesus, give me my damn number.
-Think about it. I'm serious.

Should I fire him?

I should fire him, huh?
Should fire his butt.

Good form.

No, seriously.

I promised those tickets to my clients.
Don't make me look like an asshole.

-I do have a reputation to uphold.
-A reputa--

Jesus fucking....

Nobody cares
about your reputation, Gil.

You're stuck in a time warp
with your head up your ass.

-Because I don't want to sell crap?
-We are not dedicated to perfection!

People don't want to pay for quality.

They want cheap foreign product.
When that fucks up, they replace it.

So that is what we give them.

You got till the end of the month, Gil.

Look...

...McKinley and Everest is our biggest
account, so you better close it.

Bring in the fucking numbers.

Asshole.

What would you say was the missing
link in your ball club last season?

We would've made it
to the playoffs if Rayburn...

...hadn't hit that three-run dinger
in Atlanta.

Everybody said, "How come we don't
have a slugger like that?" Now we do.

Bobby, how about a picture?

-Smile.
-Let's take one with Primo.

Sounds good.

Keep fucking smiling.

I hope you like center field.

I hope you like it in left.

No more questions.

I wanna clear up a few things.
2.5 million signing bonus.

Half this year, and half the next.
Yeah. Okay, let's clean that up.

Well, well, well. If it isn't Jewel, my
favorite token female sports reporter.

Blow me, Manny.

I would,
but you haven't had your shots.

They also said that bonus
is based on winning the MVP.

I want an interview
with Rayburn, Manny.

Are we talking about the overpaid...

...overrated SOB
with the pending divorce?

I call them as I see them.
What can I say?

You've been crossed off the list.

-I knew you wouldn't understand.
-Divert payments starting in 2007.

Come on, cut the crap.
What are you saying?

Are you saying there's no way you can
get your boy to talk to me?

Is that what you're saying?
He's got to talk to me.

I'm saying he'd rather nail his penis to
a burning building is what I'm saying.

No, I'm not talking to you.
With an option year of 6.5 million.

Check out this puppy.

The walk and the talk.
How's it walk, how's it talk?

This is the one. It's a beauty.

Are you happy with your current
supplier?

Any more of these demonstrations,
I'll have to start shaving my legs.

Gil Renard.
Renard & Garrity Hunting Supplies.

The big motherfucker, or the little
motherfucker. Which do you want?

Any more of these demos, I'll have
to start shaving the hairs on my ass.

As you can see...

...the performance on this baby
is really something.

Knife doing business with you.

Come on, bring it, baby. Bring it.

-Jesus Christ.
-Poetry in motion, baby.

-Two behind home plate?
-Yeah, I'm your man.

$200 a piece.

$200 a piece?

That's a lot. How about 125?

Fuck $125.
This is the opening day here.

$200, goddamn it.

-Doing business here.
-Okay.

Jesus.

Now you want the tickets, huh?

Anytime I can do you anymore
fucking favors, you just let me know.

You in a coma or what, buddy?
Get the fuck out of here.

You know what bugs me
about guys like you?

-Like I care.
-You don't even care about the game.

You ebony god, you prince
of darkness, you Othellian Moor.

You black man.
You were good out there, bud!

-I bet you can hit .400 this year.
-Come on, don't jinx me, all right?

Sorry, man.
You know I get emotional.

All right, so tell me, what we got?

Sign balls for Spaulding.

Before that, we got that
Wish Upon A Star routine.

Sick kid wants to shake hands
with a great ballplayer.

You'll have to do.

I don't know, what do you think?
Maybe I should bring a ball for him?

No, a bat would be much nicer.

All right, here.
Give him a bat, all right?

It's not a good time for this shit.
You know that.

-What's the gentleman's name?
-His name's Stanley. Stanley Jackson.

Thank you.

Stanley.

Gil Renard,
Renard & Garrity Hunting Supplies.

-How do you do?
-How you doing? Here's my card.

I'd like to ask if you're happy
with your current supplier?

I sure am.

If you could give me three minutes
of your time...

...I'll prove to you--
Can I demonstrate it here?

Just prove to you that we are superior
in quality because of our fit...

...hand-sharpening, polishing...

...and strength.

All these features combined with our
discount prices, our superior terms...

...make us one of the most
sought-after competitors in the area.

We signed a three-year exclusive
with Gerber.

They've got the whole chain
sewed up.

We can't pass wind in a tent without
going through them.

Sorry to hear that.

-You have the little pecker?
-Yes, I do.

You really are on the cutting edge.

I'm sorry we can't do business.

You sure I can't interest you
in any these?

You got any kayaks?

You gotta be
out of your fucking mind. Kayaks?

I could use kayaks.

Stanley, what the fuck do kayaks
have to do with knives?

Never mind.

You fucking asshole.
You ask me about kayaks...

...when I'm asking you
about knives?

Yeah, I understand, sir.
Thank you for coming in.

How about you get some kayaks and
stick them up your fucking ass, moron.

Your stopwatch.

-Thanks for coming.
-What's happening?

-Nice to meet you.
-Look, we got the same hairdo.

Are you sick too?

Hey, slugger, come on,
shake his hand.

So how you doing, man?
You hanging in there?

-What's your name?
-Sean.

Sean?

Sean.

Wow, what a coincidence.
That's my son's name too.

Look, I have a present for you.

There you go. See,
maybe it will make you feel better.

"Bobby Rayburn."

Tomorrow...

...hit a home run for me.

Please.

I'll try.

They said sick. They didn't say dying
in front of our eyes. I didn't know.

As if I don't have enough
to worry about.

-I get the poor kid on his deathbed.
-Oh, please.

The kid was dying.
He has my son's name.

What kind of shit is that?

Lucky tie, lucky guy.

McKinley-Everest.

Okay, thank you.

Hi.

-Angie, you're looking lovely as ever.
-He's gone.

We had an appointment at 4.

Yeah, it's 4:11.

My watch is slow, I guess.

-When will he be back?
-He's gone for the day.

But you can see him
tomorrow at 2:30.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow. Let's see....

See if there's anything....

I'd prefer the morning.
But how about late in the day?

I'm sorry, tomorrow at 3 he's off
to Chicago for three weeks.

That's a problem.

My son,
I want to take him to opening day.

Myself, as a father, I'm a real cutup.

But I'll get to the point.

I'm trying to be a hero to my son.

So if he could make it
any other time--

Just any other time would really,
really help me.

Just an hour later,
so I could fit the game in.

Excuse me.

McKinley-Everest.

Any other time at all? Anything?

-Okay, thank you.
-It would be a big, big help to me.

-An hour later?
-I'm afraid I really can't help you.

He's got such a crazy schedule.

Okey-dokey.

Drop your cock and grab your socks.
It's a big day today. Excited?

Yeah, I'm up.

I'm up. Manny, talk to me, man.
Make me happy.

Wish I could.
I just talked to Primo's people.

-They want 500 grand.
-Five hundred grand? For what?

Exactly. Exactly.

That's 250 Gs a digit.

Oh, man. Come on,
what is this boy smoking?

I tried to haggle them down. I called
the kid myself. It's his lucky number.

Shit, ain't that much luck
in the world.

He's lucky to be
in the fucking country.

I hear you, I hear you.

It's your call. You want me to go back
in there, or are you happy with 33?

-It's just a number, right?
-That's right.

I'll pick you up in an hour.
While you're doing her, think of me.

Yeah, that's a short thought.

-Yeah, I love you too.
-No, you don't.

-I'll catch you later.
-Yeah.

Hey, Gil.

Hey, Ted.

-Lose your job?
-It's my day off.

-And it's Tim.
-Tim. Sorry.

-You remember Mike and Linda?
-Hey, Gil.

-Hi, Gil.
-Hi.

You're late. What a surprise.

-Traffic. You know, traffic?
-How original.

-Hi, Dad.
-Hey, how you doing?

-Good.
-Ready for the game?

-What time will you have him home?
-That depends on the game, right?

6:05, he's not home, I call the cops.

I'm against this, all right?
I want to make that real clear to you.

-He's my kid too.
-Yeah.

Give me kisses. I love you.

Bye.

For the record...

...so everybody knows, don't make him
do things he doesn't want to do.

I don't make him do things he doesn't
wanna do. Do I do that?

-Okay?
-6:00, Gil.

Hey, Ted...

...see you.

I remember when Mick recorded this.
February, '78.

What?

I remember when Mick recorded this in
'78. We had a wild party afterwards.

Jason's dad says Mick Jagger's gay.

Yeah, well, Jason's dad
takes it up the ass.

Tryout's next week.

Tryout's next week? Your mother
didn't tell me they were next week.

Jason says his dad's going to pick me,
if I'm still available.

You'll make it. Positive things happen
to positive thinkers.

Tell me, what do you gotta do?

There's three whats. What are
the three whats you gotta be?

-I don't want to do this, Dad.
-At bat, come on.

-Keep the bat low.
-No, no. Keep it high. High.

When you move your feet?

Step on the eggshell
and squash the bug.

That's it. That's perfect.
It's what Coop used to always say.

I told you about Coop
and what he always said, right?

-Your old catcher, right?
-One of the finest athlete I ever knew.

Where did you get that glove?

Tim gave it to me.

Piece of shit.

Opening day,
Candlestick Park, 1996.

Steve, what's not to love
about opening day?

Fathers sneaking away early
from work...

...and kids playing hooky
from school.

For at least one day,
everybody's in first place.

Opening day is what baseball
is all about.

How exciting will it be for Giants fans
with Rayburn coming home...

...after leading the Braves
to a championship.

Did you see that? Did you see
the way he moved his legs?

-Can I have a hot dog?
-A what?

Can I have a hot dog?

-You're in my seat.
-If it isn't the ubiquitous queen...

...of the AM radio herself.

Good morning my sweet angel...

-...darling, baby.
-Yeah, whatever.

Manny, come on,
don't dick me around.

It's an important piece, okay?

Come on, there's somebody there
behind that killer smile.

I promise, I will not hurt your boy.
I want Bobby Rayburn.

Bernie, correct me if I'm wrong, but
isn't she the castrating ball-buster...

...who had the temerity to ask my
client if he was worth $40 million?

-Am I a ball-buster?
-Yeah.

Thank you.

-Whose is this?
-It's mine. I spit in it.

-I thought your mom confiscated that.
-She did.

Thataway!

Strike!

Strike!

What you doing? You missed it.
Hawkins struck him out with a splitter.

-Pay attention.
-I'm sorry, Dad.

And the pitch to Pryor is swung on
and driven deep towards the gap.

Oh, he crushed it.

-Watch, watch, watch.
-What?

I got it!

I got it!

Primo and Rayburn giving chase.
They converge and...

...look out!

Center field makes the calls.

Fundamental of baseball:
Center field makes the call.

Pay attention.

Well, scary moment on day one.

Boy, I tell you, Rayburn's slow getting
up, and Primo's still slow getting up.

Forty million dollars out there
in center field, Steve.

Hope the Giants
have collision coverage.

This'll help relieve the pain.

-Is the rib bruised or fractured?
-Neither.

Bobby, what are you doing?

You got 161 games to go out there.

Can you excuse me
for a minute, please? Thank you.

You just signed
a $40 million contract.

You hurt yourself now,
you'll be batting .100 in a month.

That media will turn on you
faster than the fans.

-You gotta listen. You gotta come out.
-I can't come out.

On account of you,
I gotta be Babe Ruth.

It's William fucking Bendix.
Can you get it right?

After seven and a half innings,
the score:

Rockies 1, the Giants, nothing.

-You having fun?
-Yeah.

I'll just go down for a minute,
make some phone calls, okay?

-Just business calls. I'll be back.
-Go?

Just downstairs for a minute.

Mom said we have to be home by 6,
or she'll be real upset.

Forget about your mother.

Foul ball!

-Out of the way!
-I got it!

The wind took it.

The wind took it.

Kid was lucky. Kid was lucky.

Wind took it.

-You stepped on me.
-Don't worry, we'll get one next time.

I gotta go, all right? I'll be back.

-You don't have to pee or anything?
-No.

-What happened? What happened?
-Hit one to the right. Bases loaded.

Come on! Grand slam!

Don't get greedy, son.
What we need now is a sacrifice.

A winning team has to manufacture
runs. Coop taught me that.

He'd say the most beautiful play in the
game was a sacrifice fly. Know why?

-It's for the team.
-And it doesn't effect your average.

That's why baseball's better than life.
It's fair.

All right, tell me what happens.

Now batting, 33, center fielder,
Bobby Rayburn.

Thataway, Bobby!

Rayburn look like he's moving
a bit stiff to you?

Can't believe Burrows left him in
after that collision.

Right, that's all we need,
our $40-million man on the DL.

Strike!

Look, he's playing hurt.

That's a man showing his mettle,
putting the team first.

And remember, last year,
he hit .314 against lefties.

Yo, Bobby!

Time!

Come on,
let's play some fucking baseball!

All right, Bobby! Let's go!

Play!

All right, Bobby!

-Go for it, Bobby!
-Go, Bobby!

-Let's go!
-Hey, buddy. You want to sit down?

-I'm trying to see something here.
-Go, Bobby!

Come on! Let's go!
Start the fucking game! Shit!

Strike!

Are you out of your mind, ump?

-Are you out of your fucking mind?
-Hey, sit down.

-Take your hands off me. Just ask.
-Stop pushing.

-Who you pushing?!
-Just ask me!

-You! Both of you, down in front!
-Fuck you!

Down in front. Now!

Let's play some fucking ball!
You all right?

What's your fucking problem?

You old busybody.

I gotta go. Okay, I'll be back.

Fuck you!

Fuck.

Get out of here.

So could you just
send me over the stats? Yes.

Okay, thank you very much.

I'm sorry I'm late.
Your hair looks very nice that way.

-I'm very sorry, but I'm afraid he left.
-He left?

-For the ballgame.
-What?

-For the game.
-I thought he had a plane to catch.

Plans changed.

But he did leave you this note.

-He didn't draw a smiley face, did he?
-What?

The previous assistant
got him in the habit of drawing...

...this little smiley face
instead of "sincerely."

I keep on telling him
it's not always appropriate.

No, it's perfectly appropriate.

Congratulations, fellas.

Hey, Babe fucking Ruth.

-William fucking Bendix.
-That's right.

So did the kid see his home run?

The kid didn't even see it. He slipped
into a coma in the first inning.

-He never pulled out. I'm sorry.
-Why didn't you tell me that?

Like you take bad news well, huh?
What would I say?

"I got great news, the kid
didn't make it. Have a good one."

That's all right, man.
Enough of these hospital gigs.

They're off the list.
You know what the bright side is?

You knocked the goddamn cover
off that ball. You're back.

The hell I did. It was a fluke.

I never even saw the pitch.

Let go, Tim.

-What do you want?
-How is he? Is he okay?

No, he's not all right, stupid.
He's crying his eyes out.

-Don't start. I brought pizza.
-Don't you start.

You violated your agreement.
I called my lawyer.

-I'm getting a restraining order.
-Don't start.

Don't you start! Get off my step!

-I've had it.
-Don't start.

-I want to see him.
-You had to bring him home!

What is wrong with you?

-I wanna talk to him. I'll explain to him.
-Tim, call the cops right now.

-Everything's okay.
-You bastard!

You motherfucker!

Tim, call the cops!
He fucking hit me!

Hey, slugger. Slugger.

I'm sorry. You forgive me?

-You left me.
-I know. I screwed up. I'm sorry.

-You forgive Dad?
-Mom's got a terrible headache.

That's called a migraine. She'll live.

Look what I got for you.
I got your favorite pizza.

Gil, open the door.

Look, pepperoni and mushroom.

I don't like mushrooms.
You can pick them off.

Is it true, if Mom marries Tim,
I'm not gonna be a Renard anymore?

-Gil, open the door.
-It's open!

-It's locked.
-It's open.

It's locked, Gil. Open the door now.
I'm calling the police.

You're still worried
about the tryouts?

I don't know.

-Think I'll make the majors?
-Of course you'll make the majors.

Just remember what I said: "Positive
things happen to positive thinkers."

Who said that?

-Coop.
-Damn straight.

He was the greatest player
I ever played with.

Gil, unlock the door.

Look there, Coke.

Call the cops.

Did you hear me? Call the cops!

Call the fucking police!

-I'm not allowed to drink Coke.
-Who says?

Mom and Dad.

I mean, Tim.

The door's locked. It's okay.

Gil, open the door.

Finally, I throw the book
on the desk and said:

"I don't know what your problem is.

Enough of this shit,
you sign the contract right now!"

And he signed it. I swear to God.
On my honor, he signed the contract.

-Gil, got a second?
-If you do. It's 8:00.

Sit down, Gil.

That's okay. I'll stand.

Chuck from McKinley & Everest
called yesterday morning.

Said they wanted to drop
their account with us.

So I sent Figgy over
to sort things out.

You sent Figgy down?

-Sit down, Gil.
-I don't wanna sit down. Thank you.

He sorted them out with my opening
day tickets. What'll you do about it?

-He didn't steal your account.
-He did. He stole my account.

We gave him your account.

I gave him your account.

What do you mean?

You aren't getting the numbers
we need.

I know. It's been a little slow
the last couple of months...

...but that's going to change.
I've got a new strategy.

-It's gonna work pretty well.
-Your behavior is unacceptable.

What do you mean?

-People are scared of you.
-Why? Because of the other day?

You cannot do things like that
in this day and--

I want your reorder book.

Outstanding commissions...

...will be forwarded.

My father started this business.

Look, perfection and principles,
they don't belong in business...

...not now or then.
As a friend of your father's--

As a friend of my father's,
keep your mouth shut.

You know nothing about my father.

-He made this business.
-Your father made beautiful knives.

-San Francisco made this business.
-Yeah, by ripping him off.

He wasn't a businessman, Gil.

And neither are you.

That's the bottom line.

And so in a Freudian sense, Jewel...

...the catcher's the father and the son
is the pitcher.

That's fascinating, doc.

Let me ask you, what does the bat
and ball represent?

The bat speaks for itself. And, of
course, the ball is the ejaculate.

Well, thanks for calling.

Who do we have on line two, Bernie?
We have anybody on line two?

I believe everybody hung up.

Hey, man! Hey, you got a van?

Kids are breaking into your van!
Someone's breaking into your van!

-Hey, stop those kids!
-What?

Kids breaking into a van out there.

-Yeah?
-Here, this is for you.

-What's that?
-Take it. Take it, take it, take it.

It's for you.

It's a restraining order.

-What?
-You've been served.

Hey, listen, man, can I use your--

Okay, last one.

Good swing. All right, who's next?

Eleven. Let's go, buddy.
Hustle up there. Okay, pal.

Come on, Rich.

Okay? Watch the ball.

Good swing.

Next one, Richie!

Thataway, Richie boy!

-That's okay!
-It's not okay.

He's throwing too hard.
He almost took his head off. Coach!

-Yeah?
-Slow down.

-This is Little League. Little League.
-I know.

-Leave him alone, Gil.
-Mind your fucking business.

Hey, Coach! Mix in some strikes!
What are you doing?

-You're making it too hard.
-I'll coach from here.

Mix in strikes!

He's throwing strikes, Gil.

-Fuck it, I'm gonna go down.
-Easy, Gil.

Remember, Ellen's got
that restraining order on you.

The bat is too fucking heavy.
This one.

Fuck with me, I'll hit your head
into the outfield!

Go easy on him.
You're letting the bat swing him.

-Hey, come on, you guys.
-Look how heavy this bat is.

Here.

Choke up.

Let go of my son!
Let go of my son!

-He's my son too.
-Don't remind me. Get off him!

He's my son too.
What are you doing?

You won't ruin the rest of our lives.
Call the cops now.

-Just trying to tell him something. I'm--
-Get out of here. Tim!

You get out of here.

Can't you read?
The restraining order says...

...you must stay 100 yards
away from us.

Just wanna tell him one thing.

-Go. Get out of here.
-I just want to tell him one thing.

-Get out of here.
-Dad, you better go.

Don't swing at anything.
Wait for a good one.

Step on the eggshell,
squash the bug.

Okay?

You mind your fucking business.
You're lucky.

Oh, baby.

Just give him something. He's a kid.

Everything's okay.
Let's play ball.

Bobby Rayburn, again,
failed to earn his keep...

...almost grounding
into a game-ending double play.

Just beating the throw to first.

Just when the Giants needed
a pick-me-up...

...number 11, Juan Primo,
provides San Francisco with a lift...

...and it was a big one.

His 2-run shot over left center field
scored Rayburn...

...and the Giants went home happy.

That is, except possibly
Bobby Rayburn...

...whose lack of hitting is giving a
new meaning to the term "threehole."

And the way Primo's been carrying
this team on his shoulders...

...makes you wonder who the real
$40-million player is.

It was Lanz who came up
with a big hit to drive in...

...a key run in the Giant's victory.

Jimmy's been a sparkplug during this
home stand...

...and has been effective against
right-handed pitching.

Motherfuck....

Ladies and gentlemen, now batting,
the center fielder, number 33...

...Bobby Rayburn.

All right, Bobby! Let's go!

All right, Bobby!

Strike!

Strike!

-Strike three!
-Shit.

Ladies and gentlemen,
with courtesy to the players...

...please refrain from excessive noise
and throwing anything onto the field.

$40-million man's
really paying off, huh?

Now batting, number 33,
Bobby Rayburn.

Here it is, Memorial Day weekend.

You think back to the opening day
grand slam, doesn't seem long ago.

But lately, Bobby Rayburn has really
had his difficulties...

...and can't seem to find his stroke.
He lacks aggressiveness.

You wonder,
when you call it a slump?

Most superstars aren't going
to sit down for you.

But you gotta wonder,
if you're the manager...

...when he's gonna break out
of this thing.

Strike!

Come on, Bobby. Come on.

Out!

Shit.

Now batting, number 46,
Jimmy Lanz.

It'll be all right. Good work.

You still want that interview?

You serious? You'd let Bobby Rayburn
do an interview with-- What was it?

-Castrating ball-buster.
-Castrating ball-buster. That's right.

-I thought I was off your list, Manny.
-Come on...

...Schindler has a list, not me.
Okay?

When you're hitting .183,
you don't get a chance to have a list.

Locker room.

-Giants' locker--
-Bobby Rayburn, please.

-Who's calling?
-It's a friend of his.

I just have to talk to him.
It's really important.

Rayburn, phone!

Yeah, this is Bobby.

-Bobby?
-Yeah.

-Bobby Rayburn?
-Yes. Yes, who is this?

Hello?

Look, say something. Hello?

Yo, Stu, I thought you were
supposed to screen my calls here.

Burn, baby, burn!

-Come on, give me some!
-What's up, Dad?

-You're gaining a little weight, huh?
-I am. I stopped by the doughnut spot.

-Is he for me?
-Yeah, he's for you.

-What's his name?
-He said his name was Bradley.

What else did he tell you,
Dr. Doolittle?

Dad, how come
you haven't been hitting?

How's the rib cage, Bobby?

My rib cage's sick of people asking
about it.

A lot of people think you should have
came out that first game.

But you were hot-dogging it, so you
screwed yourself for the season.

Is that supposed to be a diss,
or something? I hit .314 last season.

-What kind of bullshit is that?
-It's what other people say.

-I can put a positive spin on this.
-How?

I'll tell you. We set up an interview,
get a classy piece out of it.

You tell the people why you stayed in,
and it's for that kid in chemo.

You get public sympathy in your favor.
I'm telling you, I smell forgiveness.

-Is that exploiting the kid's death?
-You're not comfortable with it?

-Should I be?
-I think you are. I think you should be.

I don't think I am.

Excuse me. Can I have a vodka
and orange juice, please?

And whatever the lady wants.

Jack on the rocks, thanks.

What?

Oh, shit. I did it again, didn't I?

It's okay,
I'm used to all of this interview shit.

Look, no offense intended, but it's
no secret that you're playing like shit.

It's got to be affecting you.

Of course it's affecting me.
I play to produce.

I can't even hit the side of a barn.
How you think it makes me feel?

Do you know what I think,
Mr. Rayburn?

No, but I'm quite sure you'll tell me.

I think this slump is a good thing.

Now, what kind of twisted shit
is that?

It's going to teach you to cut yourself
a little slack.

-You can't keep up this act forever.
-Oh, now it's an act, now.

Oh, yeah, Mr. Perfect. Mr. No Error.
Nobody can live up to that shit.

You gotta give yourself a break.
It's just a lie anyhow.

Yeah, doesn't seem like a lie
when I'm hitting.

Now batting for the Giants,
number 11, right fielder, Juan Primo.

Sit down! Let Bobby bat!

He's a hot dog. He's lucky.

Now batting, number 11,
Juan Primo.

Now batting, number 33,
Bobby Rayburn.

Let's play some fucking ball!

Hey, thanks, Primo.

Fuck you, Rayburn.

Bobby!

Bobby!

You suck!

Don't listen to them, Bobby!

Okay.

Line drive to the right.

Don't tell me where
it's going to go, Dad.

I wish we had
a whole team like him.

Fucking asshole.

-Hey, Bobby.
-Hey, Nikki. The usual.

Alrighty.

Hey, Bob.

You guys wanna play pool?

What a waste of space.

What do you mean "a waste
of space?" He hit a bad patch.

We all hit bad patches, don't we?

-What, you never hit a bad patch?
-No, this is my dream job.

-I'm gonna go talk to him.
-Please, man. Look, these guys...

...they come here to relax. If you bug
them, they'll stop coming here.

I know.
I talked to him on the phone.

Hey, Bob.

Can I talk to you for a second?

-Sure. You want to talk to me?
-Yeah. Maybe we can go someplace.

-Let me finish the game, all right?
-Okay.

Primo, it's late, man. Stop dicking
around, tell me what it is you want.

I want nothing.

You don't understand
how things work around here.

Because it's different
from where you come from.

What's different?

Look, when a player like me
comes into a team like this...

...hey, man, shit gets worked out.
Right?

What the fuck is the problem
with that?

Let me ask you,
what kind of uniforms...

-...do you have down there?
-Just uniforms.

Like these pussy pants
you're wearing there?

-Just uniforms.
-What color?

-Blue.
-What number do you have on back?

Eleven.

Primo...

...what is your price?

No price. You already
had a chance, baby. Okay?

-What's your fucking price?
-Go fuck yourself.

-Hey, don't walk away from me. Look--
-Fuck you.

Motherfucker.

Break it up!

Break it up! Get off of him!

-Get off him, Bobby!
-Let him go!

-I want my fucking number, man!
-Chill out!

Why are we talking about Primo...

...when we've got Rayburn right here
where we want him...

...up close and exclusive.

Are you ready
for your next caller, Bobby?

Get another caller on the line.

You guys are getting
a real kick out of this.

What are you talking about?

I'm talking about my season
is like a bad freeway accident.

And you just slowing down to watch.

I thought I'd really enjoy this,
but the fact is, I feel for you.

-I didn't know it'd be this rough.
-Okay, who we talking to? Oh, yeah.

On the car phone,
we are talking to Gil.

Is that our buddy, Gil,
Mr. Magical Conjunction himself?

-Is this Jewel?
-You're on the air, Gil. Go ahead.

Be brief, Gil.
You're getting a break-up on the line.

-I heard what you said about Primo.
-What's your question for Bobby?

Is Bobby listening? Bobby?

-Hey, Bob.
-Yeah, Gil, I'm here, man.

-How you doing?
-I wanna tell you I know exactly...

...what you're going through,
more than you can understand.

You know, this whole
number 11 thing is a fucking joke.

You're the greatest player.
And all of a sudden you've got some...

...flash in the pan like Primo giving
you a hard time about your number.

There's a reason
you're being paid 40 million.

The owners aren't even doing
what they should be doing.

They should be protecting
their investment.

Pay him whatever he wants.
Give him whatever he wants.

Give him a million dollars
if he wants.

And if he doesn't want a million dollars
and won't give up his number...

...then fuck him! Get him out!
What the fuck is the difference?

Just get you hitting again,
if that's what it's gonna take.

And they say fans don't know
what they're talking about.

The public and the owners
should be listening to you.

Bobby, why isn't this guy
on your payroll?

Thanks, Gil. Maybe I should have you
talk to Primo.

Maybe you could talk some sense
into him. I need all the help I can get.

And they say fans don't know
what they're talking about.

The public and the owners
should be listening to you.

Bobby, why isn't this guy
on your payroll?

Maybe I should have you
talk to Primo.

Maybe you could talk some sense
into him.

--the owners should be
listening to you.

Bobby, why isn't this guy
on your payroll?

Maybe I should have you
talk to Primo.

Maybe you could talk some sense
into him.

Maybe I should have you
talk to Primo.

Maybe you could talk some sense
into him. I need all the help I can get.

Primo.

Primo, lots of luck.

Primo.

Mr. Primo.

-Yeah?
-Can I just say...?

Did you ever think how one man...

...who is doing well might
throw off the rest of the team?

What I'm saying is you have to think
of what's best for the team, right?

You might have
to lay down a sacrifice.

I'm talking about
Bobby Rayburn's number.

I don't know if you really understand
how much he needs that number.

-Number 11.
-I am number 11.

I know,
but he needs it more than you.

Are you with the press?

You're with the hotel?

Then get out of here.

Go.

Get the fuck out!

It's a sad night as the Giants prepare
to take the field for the first time...

...since the brutal murder
of hitting sensation Juan Primo.

Rayburn will be taking his place
in the lineup, batting cleanup.

There's bound to be some questions
about that, Jewel.

Now we all get to wear
the number, man.

Come on, let's play ball!

Now batting fourth, number 33,
Bobby Rayburn.

Bobby! Come on, Bobby!

Fuck you. Fuck you.

Come on, Bob!

That's it.

Come on, Bob!

Thataway.
You're back to your old self!

Fuck you!

Okay. This is the last place I'll look,
then I'll quit.

Yeah, I know. I've had it.
I'm tired. He's not here--

There he is. I've found my man.
I'll talk to you later.

Is this how you celebrate
going 4 for 4, huh?

Whatever happened to pouring
champagne over your head...

...and banging some groupies?

Bobby. Bobby, talk to me.

If you're worried about the cops,
they're not interested in you.

It's just an ongoing investigation.
Let it go.

I ain't asked for this, man.

You talking about Primo?
Come on, Bobby, I know that's shit.

I admit, I thought about it a lot,
but I didn't ask for this.

You know, Bobzy...

...I wish five people dead on my drive
to work everyday. Five people.

But wishing it doesn't make it so.

Look, you're not God,
lifetime average withstanding.

Yeah, well...

...why do I feel so bad, then, huh?

I don't know.

This is gonna blow the hell
out of my shithead theory...

...but I think you feel guilty.

Oh, Jesus hairy Christ. I've been
wrong about you all these years.

You're not a shithead at all.
I'm fucking flabbergasted.

Come on, let's go, man.
I got a game tomorrow.

33, Bobby Rayburn.

Bobby!

Safe!

Now batting, Bobby Rayburn!

Bobby, you're coming off
the worst slump of your career.

All of a sudden, you're hitting
well over .400, 11 home runs...

...30 RBIs last month.
How do you explain that?

I wish I knew.

That's it? You wish you knew?

A simple "thank you"
would've been nice.

Sean!

Be careful!

Don't go too far!

Sean, don't go too far, darling.

Bradley!

Bradley, come here!

Bradley, come back!

Bradley, go back.

Sean!

Help!

Help me!

Sean! Mr. Rayburn!

-Mr. Rayburn!
-Help! Help!

Shit.

Help!

Mr. Rayburn!

Sean!

Somebody help! Somebody!

Thank God for Mark Spitz over here.

Okay, just relax. That's right.
Just blow it all out.

It's gonna be all right.

-You all right? You all right, man.
-Thank you. Swallowed some water.

Jesus, you scared me half to death.

-Where the hell did you come from?
-I was just walking on the beach.

-I saw him, and I just went in and--
-Thank God, man.

You all right?

Sean, you gotta promise me,
no matter what...

...not a word of this
to your mother, understand?

Next time you're looking for attention,
do something more dramatic.

-Let's go inside, get some dry clothes.
-Play in traffic, like other kids.

Oh, shit.

-What did you say your name was?
-My friends call me Curly.

Curly. Well, come on, Curly,
let's go inside.

Elvira'll get you some dry clothes,
all right?

Thank you.

What do I say?

You know, I was just there.
You would've done the same thing.

I lose this guy, man,
I don't know what I would do.

It looks good on you.
I don't know about them pants, though.

They're yours.

-Can I get you anything?
-A beer.

All right. You know, I could swear....
Have I seen you before?

I get that all the time.
I got one of those faces, I guess.

You like baseball?

I'm not obsessed with it or anything.
Are you a player?

Yeah. Yeah.

-You are?
-Yeah.

Barry Bonds?

No, no, no.

-I'm Bobby Rayburn.
-Right.

I was just kidding, you know.

It's okay. It's okay.

Wow. At least you're not one of them
die-hard baseball fan who--

-Why's that?
-Because those guys are losers.

-Aren't the fans what it's all about?
-Shit. Tell you something, man...

...the fans are like women:
when you're hitting, they love you.

When you're not, they'd just as soon
spit on you as look at you.

Why's that?

They don't understand
you're the same person...

...whether you're hitting
or you're not.

You know?

Only person you should play for
is yourself.

You wanna shoot some pool?

-Yeah, sure.
-Yeah. Bring your beer.

Sure.

Curly, Curly, Curly.

Curly.

Curly Otis?

-Yeah, that's my old man.
-No shit!

I was in the bigs for a cup of coffee
myself until my arm went south.

Oh, man, tough break.

It's like my old catcher, Coop,
used to say, "Enjoy it while you got it...

-...then you just gotta move on."
-Yeah.

That's a good philosophy, brother.
Good philosophy.

-Are all those hats yours?
-Yep, my pride and joy.

-Can I try one on?
-Yeah, sure.

Fits.

Looks good on you.

Hey, Bobby...

Did you mean it when you said
you'd do something for me?

Yeah, sure. I mean, within reason.
Don't be getting no ideas and shit.

-Let me pitch to you.
-What?

I wanna show you what I got.
I got a couple of innings left in me.

Come on, Bobby,
show you what I got.

Bradley's gonna catch for us.

Must feel good
to be hitting again, huh?

Brother, you have no idea.

-How did you get out of that slump?
-Say what?

Got any idea
what got you out of that slump?

You know, Curly...

...I just stopped caring, man.

-What?
-I just stopped caring!

You stopped caring?
What do you mean?

Hey, man, all my life,
I've been working to be the best.

You know,
trying to be a perfectionist.

And I thought about it, that's probably
where I made my mistake.

And when Juan Primo died,
oh, man, that just--

That completely changed
the perspective. I mean....

I mean, come on, let's be real here.

What are we doing? We're not
curing cancer, you know?

We're playing a game.

That's all it is. It's just a game.

So I stopped caring,
and relaxed...

-...then I started hitting.
-Stopped caring.

So that's your fucking insight
into life.

Just stop caring.

-You're pretty loose now, aren't you?
-Yeah.

Look, all I'm saying is that
there's more to life than baseball.

Like what? Like your house?
Like your big-ass car?

Like your 40 fucking million?

I mean,
what the fuck do you care about?

I care about my son.
That's what I care about.

I'm sorry. I just hate that attitude:
you stop caring. I'm sorry.

What, do you have a better theory?

Yeah.

You got your number back.

Curly, my number
didn't have anything to do with it.

It looks good on you.

Thanks.

That's great.

I gotta give you my best pitch.
I haven't done that.

-Sure you have.
-No.

Listen, it's okay. It's okay.

Look, Curly, I really wanna thank you
for what you did for my son.

-You know?
-Well--

What do you say,
let's call it a night? All right.

Come on, admit it. We're alone.

Admit what?

Admit you're hitting
because Primo's not around.

That's a bunch of bullshit.
Come on.

It doesn't hurt he's not around.

Come on, level with me.

Level with me.

Come on, I saved your kid.
You wanna pay me back?

Be honest for me, and tell me you're
a little happy he's dead. Just a little.

No, no. I'm not.
I'm not happy that he's dead.

Come on.

Curly, I already told you. No.

No, I am not happy that he's dead.
Okay?

Okay?

Can I have my hand back now?

Thanks.

I'm really tired. Really.
Go to sleep. Take care.

A simple thank you
would have been nice...

...for a teammate
who lays down a sacrifice.

Look, you need a ride or anything?

I got my own wheels. Thanks, Bob.

Good. Bradley, let's go.

If you need anything,
just call me, all right?

And I'll get back to you.
Okay, bye. Take care.

Come on, Bradley.

Hey, Bob.

-Bobby, what about the glove?
-Keep it!

I remember when Mick recorded this,
December, '77.

We drove home at dawn.

-Who's Mick?
-Great friend of mine.

-Where are we going?
-We're going fishing.

-Why couldn't my dad come?
-Your dad could come...

...but he has a big game tomorrow,
and we gotta pick up Coop.

Why are we going fishing at night?

Night fishing is the best. No boats
around to scare the fish away.

We'll sucker them in
with a flashlight.

And we'll cut them up with this.
Take it, it's yours.

-You sure?
-Yeah, it's yours. Take it.

-Thanks.
-Just don't cut yourself.

Hello.

-Hey, Curly.
-Hey, Bobby.

Sean, say hello to your father.
He's on the phone.

Hi, Dad. We're going fishing.

That's great. That's great. Sean.

Listen, Curly, could you pick up
the handset so we can talk?

-Sure thing, slugger. Yeah.
-Curly, is it raining where you are?

No. I'm far away from the beach.

I didn't know you'd take the car.

I thought the kid
would like to get away.

Listen, Curly...

...before you do anything that's stupid,
I don't think this is a good idea.

You don't think at all.
You're a lucky idiot.

Look, I'm not fucking with you,
all right?

Don't get angry at me, Bob.

-Curly--
-Bob.

I just want my son back.

-Bob.
-What?

-What?!
-Listen to you...

...you're hanging on every word I say.
This is really something.

Curly, what do you want?
What do you want from me?

Don't you talk back to me.

You show me respect. Without people
like me, you're nothing.

We're the ones that get you
your 40 fucking million.

Look, what do you want?

What do I want?

I want every time they think of you,
they'll think of me.

Listen to me, I don't know what
the fuck I did to you to piss you off...

...but my son
has nothing to do with this.

Oh, Bobby, it's not what you did to me,
it's what I did for you number 11.

-You owe me.
-I owe you what?

Check your freezer.

I'll hang on.

-There's a surprise.
-What the f--?! Curly. Curly.

-Go ahead, check your freezer.
-All right, I'll check the freezer.

Curly, don't you hang up this phone,
you hear me? All right?

Oh, my God.

He finally figures it out,
ladies and gentlemen.

Boy, it's really true what they say
about sluggers. They are really stupid.

Well, I'm a pitcher, Bobby.

-Pitchers use their brains.
-Curly!

Here we are.

Come on, Bradley.

We're going to play a joke on him,
so you just play along.

All right.

Hey, Coop.

Gil.

Gil.

-Gil Renard.
-Yeah.

Gil Renard.

Yeah, long time no see, Gil.

-This is my son.
-Hi.

Come on in, fellas.

Go ahead. Go ahead.

Man, that is a kick-ass car.
You've done good for yourself.

Never seen nothing like that
in the Bronx.

I always thought
you'd be a manager by now, Coop.

-Manager?
-Yeah, in the majors.

No one calls me Coop anymore,
you sick son of a bitch.

How'd you find me, anyway?

I looked you up.

Whose kid is that really?

-You really want to know?
-Yeah.

-Bobby Rayburn's.
-Jesus. Fuck. Same old fucking Gil.

Come on.

Really?

He'll be on in a minute.

You'll recognize his voice.

All right, incoming call.

Notify incoming call.
Turn off all radios.

Okay, this is it.

Bob.

-Yeah.
-Bobby, you still up?

-Bad time to be calling?
-I'm up. I'm up.

I hope I'm not calling at a bad time.
Probably got some people over, huh?

I can't hear you. You're gonna have
to turn the music down.

-I'm sorry, slugger.
-Curly, I want to talk to Sean.

Sean's-- He's asleep now.

But he's doing fine.
Don't worry about him. He's fine.

-Curly, what do you want?
-Well, I've been thinking it over.

You know, in life-- Life just...

...comes down to one single action.

What do you want?

I want you to hit a home run
for me, Bob.

Are you serious?

Remember that kid in chemo...

...whose life was unfair to him?

Well, that's the way I've been feeling.
My life is unfair to me.

The only difference is I'll be able
to see you hit that home run...

...at the game tomorrow.

And I got a photo here...

...and I'll get it to you, and I want you
to put it on the JumboTron, okay?

-Yeah.
-Then what I want you to do, Bobby...

...is to stand up
and tell the 50 million viewers...

...that this home run
is dedicated to Gil, a true fan.

-What do you think?
-I can't believe you're serious.

I'm serious as a heart attack, Bobby.

That's pretty serious, isn't it?

There comes a time
in everybody's life...

...when you have to stand up
for something.

Otherwise,
you're just passing on through.

So, Bobby, I'm watching you.

And if that pitcher goes easy on you,
I'll kill your fucking kid.

Surprise, surprise.

Hey, Bobby!

I'm still here.

Now do you care?

You can get in some serious shit
for that.

Cops are gonna be all over us.

Boy, all of a sudden,
you lost your sense of humor.

-Did you get it?
-I couldn't get him.

He's calling from the car.
We can nail him down to this district.

You won't believe this, kid.

Just like old times, huh, Coop?

-You know that's not my real dad.
-It's okay, kid.

Come on, I'm waiting.

I'm waiting. The signals.
What happened to you?

Did you forget everything?
Come on, Coop.

Hang in there, kid.

Bring the bat up, slugger.
Come on, look like a hitter. Bring it up.

Bring it up.

Bring it up. Come on!

Come on!

Come on, slugger,
bring the fucking bat up!

Come on.

That's my boy.

It's all right, kid. Hang in there, now.
Hang in there.

Coop, you dickhead!

Come on, kid, come on!

Go, go. Up the fence.
Come on! Come on!

Come on, push! Push! Go!

Go! Come on! Go, kid. Go!

Coop, what are you doing?

Why did you do that?
We could've been teammates.

We were teammates, man.
We could've made it to the bigs.

It was Little League.
We were 12 years old.

Come on.

That's my boy.

Ladies and gentlemen,
leading off the second inning...

...Giants center fielder, number 33,
Bobby Rayburn.

The forecast
is for rain tonight, Rick...

...and there's a light mist falling as
Rayburn steps to the box.

He has been so much more
aggressive over the last month.

-Who do we have on line two?
-I'm just a fan.

Hey, Mr. Fan, how you doing?

I wanna tell you how lucky you are
to be in the stadium tonight.

Really, why's that?

-Is that a Giant's watch I hear playing?
-Yes, it is.

-Is that my buddy, Gil?
-Maybe.

This'll be one of the most amazing
nights in the history of the game.

-It's gonna be incredible.
-Really? Why's that, Gil?

I'm telling you,
the Kirk Gibson homer...

...Ripken breaking Gerhig's record,
peanuts compared to tonight.

You're talking about some classic
moments in baseball history.

What's gonna happen here tonight
that can top those?

Let's just say that Bobby Rayburn
is in for the night of his life.

-Why's that, Gil?
-Well, some people are ungrateful...

...and they should be taught
a lesson.

Strike!

Gil, are you calling
from inside the stadium?

Wouldn't you like to know.

Well, you got good seats?

Are you behind first base?
Can you see me?

Can I see you?

Yeah, you're waving right at me.
Have a nice night.

Gil, wait. Before you hang up,
I wanted to ask you a question.

-Trying to trace the call, Jewel.
-What was that, Gil?

You'll never find me.

Strike!

Have a nice night.

Gil-- Fuck.

Come on, man, go get him!

Yes!

Shit. God.

Now batting, number 10,
Brad Tjader.

-Did you feel that raindrop?
-What?

I felt rain.

-He's not crazy enough to walk in.
-He's here. The guy is here.

-He could've been near a radio.
-I'm telling you, he's in the stadium.

Look at that. Look at that. That is
one fine piece of craftsmanship.

-What?
-The knife.

It's a first edition.
See where it says "prototype?"

That means it's a collector's piece.

"Renard & Garrity."

That's a local firm, isn't it?
Gilbert Renard.

What are you guys waiting for?
A clue? An invite? What?

This guy is gonna kill Bobby's kid
if you don't find him in nine innings.

Ladies and gentlemen...

...leading off the bottom of the eighth,
number 33, Bobby Rayburn.

Bobby's as safe as Kennedy was
in Dallas.

What you looking for,
a guy with a "Hello" sticker on him?

Play!

Ball one.

-What, are you walking me?
-Consider it a compliment, dickhead.

Fuck! You know
what you're doing to me?!

-They're giving him first base.
-Throw the fucking pitch! Fuck!

Fuck.

Oh, man, the ump's gonna call
the game. Oh, my fucking....

Oh, God, please don't do this.
Please, I'm begging you. Please.

For God's sakes, fucking listen to me!
Let him pitch!

Let him fucking pitch!

Do you know what you're doing?

Now the umpire has decided...

...to send both teams
into the dugouts for cover.

It looks like we've got ourselves
a rain delay.

Ladies and gentlemen, the umpire
has called for a rain delay...

...with the Padres
leading the Giants, 2 to 1.

Did you and your dad have
a special place he and you like to go?

Yeah. Stadium in the Sky
is our Little League park.

My dad used to play there
when he was a kid.

Is my daddy in trouble?

Ladies and gentlemen...

...we resume play with the Giants
batting in the bottom of the eighth.

All units,
proceed to Little League park...

...Stadium in the Sky,
24th and Sanchez.

We pick it up here in the eighth,
two ball count...

...on what might be
Rayburn's last at bat.

They'll play on this wet field.

I guess the cold night air
is getting to everybody.

Look at Rayburn.
He's going to the mound...

...to have a confrontational chat
with Martinez.

Oh, shit.

I don't give a fuck what he told you!
You throw that ball over the plate...

-...or I'll bash your fucking head in!
-Fuck you!

This might go back to earlier
this season when Martinez...

...drilled Rayburn in the small
of his back with a fastball.

We are seeing it all tonight, Rick.

Let's go, gentlemen.

First pitch is at your head, buddy.

Come on, man, do this! Do this!

A critical at bat for Rayburn,
the $40-million San Francisco Giant.

Probably his last chance tonight
to get the Giants even...

...here in the bottom of the eighth.
The Giants trail, 2 to 1.

-Swung on, and missed.
-Strike!

Strike one.

All right, come on!
Come on, Bobby!

Swung on, and missed. Strike two,
and Rayburn in the hole.

One strike left
for Bobby Rayburn tonight.

Jesus Christ, man.

Air 7, copy. Proceeding
to Stadium in the Sky. Over.

-Oh, man.
-They're going to call the game.

They're going to call
this fucking game.

Two and two. Two balls, two strikes.
And Rayburn down to his last strike.

Bobby knows he's had two pitches
to drive right there.

And now at 2-2, you're not going
to get another good pitch to hit.

It's possible. It's a tad damp, and he's
having trouble holding onto the ball.

Rick, this game
could be called any second.

Play ball!

San Diego protecting
its one-run lead.

Martinez readies,
steadies and delivers.

Rayburn drives it deep
to right-center field.

Yes! Go!

-Run!
-All right!

It's off the wall.

Rayburn could get three
if he hustles.

Robinson having trouble
just getting to the ball.

And Rayburn rounding second,
headed for third.

And he's running through
the stop sign.

This could be
an inside-the-park home run!

The relay from Parker....

Rayburn slides head-first!

And he is...

-...in there!
-Yes!

-You're out!
-What is it?

Bad fucking call, man!

You're out! Sit down!
You're out! Sit down!

I beat him by a fucking mile!

-I beat him!
-You're out!

You're questioning my call?
Sit down!

You're out! Sit down!

You're the fucking guy!
He's the fucking guy!

It's the umpire!

Move! Get that lock!

Fucking dead!

This way! Get it open!

-Shit.
-What the hell's going on?

Okay. Okay. Okay.

-I just want my kid back!
-Batter up, Bobby.

I waited a long time for this.

No, no, no! Wait! No.
Okay, look...

-...where's Sean?
-Where do you think he is?

Come on, where is my son?

Where's--?
Bobby, where's my home run?

What?!

Curly. Curly, where's my son?

Where is he? I don't know.

I guess he's in that big stadium
in the sky.

I'm telling you, Curly,
if you hurt my fucking kid...

...I swear to God,
I'm gonna fucking kill you!

Bobby. Be nice, Bob.

What do you want from me?

I don't want anything.
I just want you to....

-I never showed you my best pitch.
-Curly!

Curly!

Freeze!

No, no! Don't shoot!
He's got my son!

Now do you care?

Bobby, now do you care?

Just a little bit?

-Curly, don't!
-Drop it!

Curly, where's my son?

Where's Sean, Curly?

Where's my son?

A simple thank you
would have been nice.

Where's my son?

Curly, where's my son?

Let's go, move it!

There she is.
Site of the old stadium.

Sean!

-Are you all right?
-Yeah.

-I love you, Sean.
-I love you, Dad.

I got him! I got him!

What you are seeing here
is a sad turn of events indeed.

Gil Renard,
an unemployed knife salesman...

...was shot to his death by the police
during tonight's the game.

Here's how it happened:
Bobby Rayburn....