Winning Time: The Rise of the Lakers Dynasty (2022–…): Season 1, Episode 8 - California Dreaming - full transcript

Around about
the birth of Christ,

the Romans came up with
the concept of the mile.

It's the distance covered by a
thousand paces of a Roman Legion.

That empire falls,

bunch of other ones
pop up in its place,

but for 2,000 years
of human history,

people everywhere believed
the same damn thing.

That no human being
can run that distance

in less than four minutes.

Ain't gonna happen.

Impossible.



God, I hate that fucking word.

And it's a good thing
I'm not the only one.

- So one day,
this skinny kid in England

says he's gonna
take a crack at it.

Now, there are
crummy conditions.

Wind, rain, a muddy track.
They all say he's nuts,

which is exactly what they've
been telling me lately.

But there he was,

just like me, running
straight into the wind.

And after about three laps,

that skinny Brit was
starting to lose faith.

Starting to wonder if
maybe everybody was right.

Maybe it just could not be done.

But just as he was
rounding the corner,



on that final stretch

he heard a roar.

The crowd screaming
for him to keep going,

filling his sails
with a second wind,

and he crossed that finish line

at 3 minutes, 59.4 seconds.

And in that instant,
a skinny Limey

shattered everything
we thought we knew

about human limitation.

But why him?

He wasn't the fastest
runner in the world.

He wasn't even a professional.

He was a scientist.

A doctor of neurology.

And that's how he knew

that the only real limitation

wasn't in the body.

It was in the mind.

Two thousand years since
the invention of the mile,

and nobody ran it
faster than four minutes

until Roger Bannister.

Guess how long it took
the next guy to do it?

Forty-six days.

And you remember
his name, right?

No?

Yeah, me neither.

("My Favorite Mutiny"
by The Coup playing

- Chick
Hearn: And the Lakers

notch win 40 of the
year in record time,

now 22 and 5

since limping out of
Boston in December.

Welcome to the 1980s.

Reporter: Magic! Magic!

Congratulations on
making the All-Star team.

- Earvin Johnson: Thank you.
- First rookie starter since Elvin Hayes.

Oh, word? Me and the Big E, huh?

- Top vote-getter right here, baby.
- New poll coming tomorrow.

Have you seen? Of your fellow
current players in the league,

only 10 said they'd have
picked you as an All-Star.

I mean, that's got to
sting a little, doesn't it?

Nah.

I'm still a rook.

Them old heads, they ain't
even see me play yet.

Nineteen of them picked
Larry Bird.

Yeah?

I guess that just mean that
the fans know what's really up.

I'm sorry, I gotta go.

Ten votes?

Got 11 motherfuckers right here
call theyselves my teammates.

Hearn: Haywood out here taking
a pounding for his team.

The question is, how much
punishment can he take?

Oh, shit. Oh!

Pat Riley: Better
get that looked at.

I saw you limping out there.

This, Coach, this ain't nothin'.

- It's all good. I know my body.
- Yeah?

Maybe you know how to ignore it.

- Hm.
- Trust me, Spence.

I've been there.
Give that a squeeze.

- Spencer Haywood: Damn.

Spence, this was me
"knowing my body."

Okay? This was me telling Coach,

"Don't worry about the
limp. It's nothing."

'Cause I didn't wanna
lose my minutes.

But, I'll tell you
what I know now.

We can't make it all the way
without what you give this team.

You putting in the dirty
work, coming off the bench.

I know that's not what
you wanna be doin' here.

But we need that
from you right now.

And we need you healthy,

so we can get you one of these.

- Yeah, it ain't no thing without the ring.

So, I want you to talk to Curran
and get that knee evaluated.

- And take it easy if you have to. Alright.
- Alright.

Hey! Let's bring it in.

- Alright.
- Dr um roll!

Players: Oh...

Oh shit! Oh!

Okay. First place,
motherfuckers!

What's Shakespeare got
to say about that, Coach?

Paul West head: Ah,
good question, Norman.

The Bard says...

- Let's not get cocky.
- Is Shakespeare still alive?

We need 20 more to win the West.

And our friends in
Boston... Fuck Boston...

Are not loafing.

If we keep playing
like we're playing,

there is a championship

within our grasp.

Player: Uh-huh.

So, I want you to dwell
on that on your days off.

But first, I wanna leave
you with something.

-No, no, no,
no, no. You're gonna...

- You're gonna like...

Just give me a chance.
This is a good one.

"Blow, winds,

and crack your cheeks."

- What the fuck?

Et tu, Pat?!

Oh, I warned you, Paul! I
warned you! I warned you!

- You missed a spot!
- Player: Coach!

- Wow, Coach, look at you!
- Oh, shit.

Player: Good to see you
back in fighting form.

- Good to see you.
- Good to see you.

- Hey, Jack.
- Hi, Jack.

Sorry about the Dixie Cups.

Become something of a tradition.

- To 31.
- West head: Cheers.

Don't you mean 40?

Yeah, of course.

It's just... This is just...

This is sort of our own...

Oh, right.

Well, you're lookin' spry.

Tell it to my doctors.

Yeah? They're, uh...

They're telling you you
should take it slower or...

If it were up to them, I'd
be coaching from my La-Z-Boy

for the rest of my life.

Which reminds me, whose
bright idea was it

to bury Haywood on the bench?

It was, uh...

Uh, Jack, after you left,

- Haywood, um...
- He was a problem.

And you solve that by
taking away his minutes?

Making him a punching bag?

Man can put up 15 points a game.

I want him in his
rhythm by the playoffs.

Okay...

Well, actually, uh, Jack,

we, uh, we think we might
be better off without him.

I mean, he's been
playing through it,

but that knee's pretty beat.

You know, he might not even
make it through the playoffs.

You know, but if he's strong
enough to pass a physical,

word is that, uh,

Detroit might part with McAdoo.

Is that your grand plan?

Hey, uh, listen, obviously,

we wouldn't make a
move without you.

- Without, uh, talking to you first.
- Jack McKinney: Oh.

Riley: Look I
mean, Haywood's a good guy.

I mean, he's a great player,

but, you know, his
prime's in the rear-view.

McAdoo is an All-Star,

and we can't pass
that up. That's a win.

He's not right for the system.

Get Spencer in
the starting five.

I want to see that
unit against Philly.

I mean, of course. Yeah.
I'll get you film...

No need. I'll be there.

Starting next week, I'm
traveling with the team.

Excuse me, Pat.

- Well...

- Ow!

Hearn: Michael Cooper with
a game-winning basket...

West head: Hey.

That was my fault in there.

Pat and I have a repartee.

Uh, he's a passionate guy,

but he-he's a loyal
soldier, and he'll

he'll slide down the
bench, no problem.

He won't have to.

Jack, what are
you talking about?

He's not coming with us.

He left his job.

- Jack, I promised him he'd have a spot.
- I didn't.

The second I'm
back on that bench,

I'm under a microscope.

Everybody looking for
a reason I'm not ready.

You're the only one I trust
to watch my back, Paul.

Family only.

- When do we tell Pat?
- Whenever you want.

But I'd do it sooner than later.

Shouldn't be too long
before the doctors clear me.

You ought to give him time
to find a landing pad.

Okay.

Jessie Buss: Oh,
for God's sakes.

I have broken out of
weaker cuffs than this!

Oh, I'm worn out.

Jeanie Buss: Grandma, Grandma,

here, let me... D-don't...
That's littering!

- Grandma.
- Goodness sakes, that's the least of my problems.

- And I need... I need that.
- No, you don't.

- No, you don't. It's a straight shot.
- You're going to get us killed.

I need a blot. I
need a blot. Lean in.

- You're gonna kill us.

Blend that in. You're
paler than I am,

and I've got one
foot in the grave.

You gotta stop
talking like that.

You're out of the woods.
You beat this thing.

Well

that's our story, and
we're stickin' to it.

- What?
- Jeanie, pick a direction.

Either act like you don't want
to know or ask me flat-out.

Know what? The fluid
is out of your lungs,

and they're sending you home.

I mean, they wouldn't
do that unless...

Unless I told them to.

I told them I refused
to kick the bucket

under fluorescent lights. Ah!

I'm going out like Cleopatra

with a great wig
and a stiff drink.

- Maybe we can find an asp.
- I'm sorry,

what are you telling me right
now? What are you saying?

They drained the fluid
from my lungs, yes,

but that's not all that's
in there and everywhere.

And it ain't goin' away.

But, they can't just give up
though. Dad wouldn't let them.

Gerald doesn't know.

And that's precisely the
way we need to keep it.

Do you understand?

Jeanie...

- Sweetie, come on, now. Come on.
- I ca... I can't...

- I can't lie to him.
- Well, of course, you can!

You do it every day.

You see exactly
who he is. The act,

the girls. The rat's
nest on top of his head.

That's what it is to love a man.

They're weak, they're feeble.

They need the show.

- Hey!

Oh!

Good God in Heaven.

Look at you. You're
fresh out of the slammer,

you already look
like a million bucks!

Well, I should. I'm sure
that's what it cost you.

You're worth every penny.
- Oh, yeah, yeah.

- Got you a little somethin'.
- Oh.

Jessie: Look!

Warm champagne.
My very favorite.

Jeanie, would you put
this on ice, honey? Yes.

Jerry: Hey, kid.

Ma, this is the new girl.

Hello. I'm Lucía.

Oh. Well,

I hope you know how to
mix a stiff martini.

I didn't cheat death
just to die of boredom.

Up with an olive?

Oh, two.

I like this one.

Well, my last patient
was particular.

Always had to have his
nightcap, right until the end.

Well, there's not gonna
be any "end" to this job.

It's nothing but
martinis, right, Ma?

- Absolutely. Uh-huh.
- Jerry: She's gonna outlive us all.

Jerry: I got you a
little something.

Oh, dear.

Actually, a big
"little something."

'Cause you can't watch the
All-Star Game in black and white!

Look at that.

Emcee: So this is it.

These are the All-Stars.

They told me you
are America's best.

But alls I see is
America's beasts.

It's a different generation.

- Ain't that Dr. J?
- Quit looking, girl.

Why not? Had that damn
face staring at me

from all those
posters in your room.

Imagine
what he saw you do.

Well, we big-time now,
so just play it cool.

You play it
cool all you want.

You said you wanted me
here to be real with you.

Hm? And, for real...

This is pretty neat.

- It is that.

Glad you could make it.

Been missin' you.

How bad?

- What you mean?
- Told you about

that job I applied
for in Detroit?

What, you got it?

Mine if I want it.

Good shit, Cook! All that
lookin' foxy paying off.

Thing is, they're starting
up a new branch in LA.

Detroit it is.

- Nah, nah...
- I know that look, Earvin.

Nah, I want you to. I do.

There's the young brother I'm
dying to see. Earvin Magic.

Announcer: Julius Irving...!

Johnson: Ooh!

Doc!

Told you last time, my
friends call me Julius.

We might as well be friendly.
Everybody sayin' you the next me.

Nah, man. Never that.

Dr. Johnson guarded by Dr. J.

He's been giving him
problems all night.

Makes his move!

Bam! Oh!

Dr. Johnson with
the house call! Woo!

And, uh, this lovely lady?

Oh!

This my, uh...

This Cookie.

- Earl eat ha Kelly.
- Nice to meet you, Ms. Kelly.

- We're having a little
soiree in the room after the game.

You and your beau
should stop on by.

- Earvin/Cookie: Yeah! Okay!
- Okay.

Uh-oh, don't look now.
Here come Yogi and Boo-Boo.

Eh, what's up, Doc?

- Dr. J: Mr. Commissioner.

- What's shakin', David?
- Always a pleasure, Julius.

Doc, let me buy you a drink!

Dr. J: See you on the
floor, young blood.

We're hitting the buffet.

Two things in this league
vanish if you blink...

Marriages and shrimp cocktails.

The Commissioner
and I were hoping

you'd have time for a
bite after the game.

Talk about the future
of the league with our

two most exciting rookies.

Two...

Right...

Looking forward to it, Earvin.

Right on. Me, too. Me, too.

David Stern: You know, it's
fun watching you out there.

Looks like you're
having a blast.

Johnson: Only way the
Magic Man know how to play.

Stern: Well, thank
goodness for that.

That smile is contagious.

Johnson: Wanna know a secret?

Trophy: Well, well,
well, Zeke, that is one

happy motherfucker right there.

Huh? Unlike you, you
miserable fuckin' prick.

You didn't know how to be
happy even when we fuckin' won.

Yeah? Fuck you, too.

Shit. Fucking
hand, I swear to God,

I'm gonna fuckin'...

Fuck.

Welcome to the 1980
NBA All-Star game...

- Let's get ready!
- On CBS, live from Landover, Maryland.

- Where East meets West for basketball supremacy.
- Alright, here we go!

Player: Let's go,
Kareem! That's crazy.

Announcer : Dr. J,
Dr. J charging up court,

and he's up and...

All: Ooh!

- Ooh, shit!

That's embarrassing.

Doc just put that Statue
of Liberty on Cap.

God bless America.

Kareem about to be a
surly motherfucker.

Hey! Language,
language, language.

Don't make me bust
out the swear jar.

Too late for that, Coach.

Spence got mama's
titties on the wall.

- Body ain't nothin' to be ashamed of, man.
- Not one like that.

McKinney: Alright,
somebody wants to make

another trip to the jungle gym.

Spence, walk with
us, please, will ya?

Okay, you lead the way,
sweetheart. Here we go.

Here we go. Watch your step.

Did he say anything else?

Who?

What? Jack.

Like what our roles will
be once he comes back.

I mean, there's not a
lot of other teams out there

with two assistants, right?

- So, I'm just wondering how he sees it.
- Right.

Um, he didn't really
say anything, so...

I'm sure we're
gonna feel it out.

- Are you good?
- Yeah. I have to hit the head.

- McKinney: Here we go.
- Haywood: I am so sorry

- about the Chinese finger trap.
- You kidding?

With handles like these,

- she might be battling you for minutes.
- Well,

I ain't got too many
of them to lose.

Now, I ain't complaining, Coach.

You looking at a humble man.
I just... I'll do anything

to win, you know. I
want my little girl

inheriting a ring.

That case, I'm gonna
need more out of you.

I'm talking scoring, minutes...

Come playoffs, I want
you to be prepared

to carry more of
the offensive load.

I'm surprised to hear that
because the Professor and Riles

got me thinkin' defense first.

That's them.

I'm coming back now, and
they know the new deal.

We're gonna get you ramped up.

And I don't want you worried
about these rumors either.

Rumors?

About McAdoo and all
this trade baloney.

I want you to know your
place here is secure, okay?

Yeah. Cool.

That's good to know.

- Woo!

Announcer : Halftime
at the NBA All-Star Game.

Tied score

and what a sensational
performance

from rookies Magic Johnson

and Larry Bird.

Jessie: Gerald, your new
toys are very pretty,

but could we please switch
the channel to "Dynasty"?

I need to see what's happening.

This is the newest
dynasty right here!

Come on, Ma, us!

Hey, hon, will you
get me a refill?

- Come on.
- Me, me, me, me, me.

And "me, me," too,
here. Me, me.

This guy can't make a free
throw to save his life.

- Which one is yours? Any of them?
- Jerry: Kareem and Magic.

The tall one and...
The two tall ones.

Here you go, sweetie, thank you.

They need the show.

- Jerry: Right here, honey.
- Sure, why not?

Jerry: Thank you,
sweetie. Ooh! Careful! Mm!

Mm. The Colonel has arrived!

Ma, what do you
like? Breast? Thigh?

Jessie: You tell me,
you're the connoisseur.

- Well, I like 69, but to each their own.

Mm... Mm...

I don't know why anybody
makes chicken themselves.

Come on, kid, dig in there! Get
some of that chicken, Jeanie.

- Jessie: Oh, well...

You okay, sweetie?

It was the Champagne?

: Uh-huh!

Jessie: Clearly, she's
got her mother's stomach.

It's okay. Just... Just
get me the club soda.

I'll clean it up. Just
get the club soda...

- Mostly in the bucket. That's the good news and the bad news.
- Jessie: I got this.

I'll clean it up. Ah, crap.

It's stuck. Stupid jewels!

Okay, it's okay.
It's okay. I got it.

Hand me the club soda, will you?

- Just hand me the club soda!
- Here, here, here.

- Like this.

- Right there. Ooh.
- Announcer: Larry Bird and Magic Johnson spar.

Neither one is backing
down from the fight,

that's for sure.

- Lucky Larry Bird
puts - the East over the top

with the first-ever
three-point shot

in an NBA All-Star Game.

Jim Chones: 'Course
they found a way to get

that white boy three for
chucking up a prayer.

Whoa, easy on the
white boy, huh?

Dunks should be
worth three, man.

Damn sight harder.

Shit, Doc's slams
should've been worth five.

: Ain't
that right, Wood?

: Wood!

- Wood!
- Hm?

Let me put this baby
away. Come on, baby.

I got you. Let's go.

I understand. I understand.

Da-da-da-da-da-da-da.

There she go.

- What I do? Huh?

I'll be right back.
I'll be right back.

- Riley: Alright. Be safe.
- Player: See ya.

Oh, there he is!

Spence...

Appreciate the hospitality, man.

Th-this was really
great for the team.

- Yeah? What team's that?
- Yeah.

- What?
- The one you trying to trade me to?

- What are you talking about?
- Man,

here I am, thinkin'
you've been awful worried

about me healing up.

Now, I know you don't
give a fuck about me.

- Just checking my teeth for the auction block.
- Hold on a second.

That's not what
happened. What-what...

- Where'd you hear this?
- The fuck's it matter if it's true?

Huh?

What, what fucking... How
does it fucking matter?

You come here,
you drink my beer,

you smile at my baby,

and the whole damn time,

the whole goddamn time,

you planning on shipping me off!

- Hey, Wood, that is not...
- Get the fuck outta my house!

Take it easy.

- Is he all right?
- Shit, man, does he seem all right to you?

He told Wood about
the fucking trade.

Had to be Jack!

Who else? Huh? Fucking
undermining us!

- You don't know that.
- Yes, I do.

Well, even if he did,
it's his prerogative.

He's coaching his team.

Riley: Yeah, since when?

It's not his ass out
there on the line.

It's us! Huh?

We're the ones that just got
thrown into the fucking sea

of dog shit!

And you need to talk to him.

And say what? Huh?
Tell him what?

We work for him!

We work for him.

- He is coming back.
- Great.

If I...

If I were you, I would
not pick a fight.

I would find a way to
make myself essential.

Prove my worth.

Prove my worth?

I'm saying that we all knew
that this was temporary.

Temporary is the
first fucking month.

Two maybe!

We coached 50 games!

Fifty!

You!

- Still his team.
- Not anymore.

It's your team. It's ours.

You don't see the way
the guys look at you?

Like you're their coach.

- I would not be here if it was not for Jack.
- Yeah?

- Yeah.
- He wouldn't be here if it wasn't for us.

That's the truth.

We saved his job, Paul.

We made this the best team
in the fuckin' league.

They're the best.

- You want to walk away from...
- I don't have a fucking choice!

We're lucky to be here.

Not off grading papers.

Not getting the fist from Chick.

Just try not to forget it. Okay?

: Yeah...

Turns out this guy from Italy

smuggled a home
movie back to Rome.

- For real?
- Mm. You and Bird in that Boston game,

showing it in theaters.

- I'm a movie star?

Well, that's why we're here.

Now, the commissioner sees an
opportunity for a new PR push.

East versus West,

city kid versus farm boy.

Luke Skywalker
versus Darth Vader.

That's the kind of
box office we want.

Got the wrong Luke then.

Larry got the whiteness,
but he ain't got the Force.

Mumbling, mean-mugging.

You need you

a Jedi.

Then maybe we're on
to something special.

Special enough for
Rookie of the Year?

That got him, huh?

The writers vote on
that award, of course.

We don't control who wins.

Yeah, you don't.

But, you do...

Just sayin'.

Force strong with Mr. Stern.

Being a hero is a full-time job.

Quite a spotlight.

Some youngsters in your
shoes can't help themselves

and pick the Dark Side.

That ain't Magic.

Hiya, fellas!

Look what the cat
dragged in!

- Johnson: Commissioner.
- Stern: Larry.

- What's up, Larry? Good win.

- Sweet shot at the end.
- I know.

Too bad you ain't had
that back in Boston.

Ooh!

They got Bud here?

Yeah, can we get a Bud
for this young man?

Can he get that young man a Bud?

Take a rum bun.

Cook, you should a seen it!

Had 'em right
where I wanted 'em!

Bird ain't say shit
the whole night!

Two league dudes
was all up on me

like two white pigeons!

What I
tell you? Only thing

they like more than one
of they own is one of us

that make 'em feel comfortable.

Ooh, you look good, girl.

Cookie: Rhonda called.

Earvin: Your, your
friend Rhonda?

Your friend, too!

You hung out in Lansing.

You weren't there.
I was being polite.

Were you polite enough
to wear a rubber?

-Okay. Okay.
Aight. We did our thing,

but-but you was the one who said
you had something else to do!

She's having your baby.

Nah. Nah...

Nah, Cook. That
ain't true! Come on!

That ain't true! She lying!

Cook, you know that ain't true!

Dr. Day warned me
about all this shit!

Once you got money, people
got a target on your back!

- Come on! You don't believe that!
- She is my friend!

I see her at church! At school!

Now, I gotta walk around and see
her gettin' bigger every week,

with little Earvin
Jr. In her belly?

- No! No!
- Cookie, there ain't gonna be no Earvin Jr.!

- Come on, Cook! We got Dr. J!

Fuck!

Cheryl: Earvin...

If Cookie's still feeling sick,

you tell her that I will
bring her some moonstone,

some black tourmaline

for the negativity,
because that's the thing

that Western medicine
does not understand,

it's that true
healing, real healing,

it's not physical.
It's spiritual.

You want a second opinion
from a doctor about that?

- My man.

Nice playing out
there, young blood.

- Johnson: Ah, thanks, man.
- Where's your better half?

Oh, yeah. She, uh...

She real sorry she
couldn't make it.

Those shrimp, they
ain't sittin' right.

Excuse me.

Word to the wise.

Next time, just say it's
her time of the month.

Everybody at the party
ate those shrimp.

- Ah shit...
- None of my business. Just pullin' a brother's coat.

Appreciate that.

You're in a moment,
little brother.

Worst thing in the world
is losing a good woman.

Maybe a little late
with this one though.

She break shit? Get
the cops called?

Nah. Nah, nah.
That ain't Cookie.

It'll be alright.
Takes two to tango.

We choose them, but
they choose us, too.

You think she'd be wantin' your ass
so bad if nobody was chasin' it?

You right.

- You ain't no doctor.

- You a mind reader, man.
- No, no, no.

I'm just a friend who's
lived it, alright?

Riley: That's the sick joke.

Finally found my fuckin' thing,

- and now, it's gone.
- Don't be so dramatic.

- You're still there.
- As what?

Ball boy? Cheerleader?

That's if McKinney
doesn't fire me.

And we're not exactly
seeing eye-to-eye.

You do with Paul.

I did.

He's loyal to Jack.

The guy is his family.

Family can be a burden.

What does that mean?

That means bonds like that,

sometimes, they can start
to feel like shackles.

And maybe Paul wants
this as bad as you do.

Maybe he needs you to
help him with the key.

- Ah!
- You okay, Jack?

Yeah, the... flash
just got me good.

How's about a little note, huh?

Little something for the wall?

Oh, right.

- Hey.
- West head: Hey.

Hm...

Nick: Hey now.

- This one's going right next to Rocky.
- There you go.

Thanks for the memory.

You remember Nick,
though, right?

Oh, no, of course. I
just... It ...

It takes me a minute to, uh,

- connect the dots these days.
- Uh-huh.

Which is why

I'm really gonna need your
help when we're back out there.

I'm really gonna
be leaning on you.

Oh, yeah, of course. Of course.

Pat could be very helpful
with that, too. He is...

- He's a hell of a resource.
- No Pat.

I need people I can trust, Paul.

It's as simple as that.

- You understand?
- You know I do... Sorry.

- I just, uh...
- Then have the conversation with him!

Or I will!

I have to use the john.

- I'm gonna have a BLT.
- Okay.

- Do you want coffee?
- No, Jack!

Reporter : Interim
assistant coach Pat Riley

is confident that Paul West
head, interim head coach,

is up to snuff.

- Welcome to Philadelphia.
- Riley: Hey, thanks very much.

Hey, uh...

Uh, pal, can, can you
turn this up a minute?

Riley: They're playing
well. We're, uh...

Good to get eyes on 'em now. Might
see 'em later on in the season.

You've been holding it
together for a while now,

but it must be nice to have.

McKinney travel
with the team again.

Yeah, well, Jack's
still got a road ahead.

You don't expect him
back for playoffs?

You shanty Irish
New York cocksucker.

Fuck you.

You first.

I don't, uh, I don't speak
for Jack or anybody else,

but, uh

the way the team's playing
under Paul, we got a good thing.

Everybody's happy.

Changing horses
midstream, that's, uh...

Well, that's just a big risk.

Thank you. Thanks, guys.

- Thanks, Coach.
- Yeah.

I will talk to him.

- I'm asking you a question!
- It's the truth!

Why did you air
our dirty laundry

- on fucking television?!

- What the hell were you thinking?!
- About you! About us!

About the fact that we're
fuckin' great at this, man.

We're fucking great at it,

and we've got a shot
here to win it all.

You know how rare
that is? Do you?

Most guys go their
whole fucking lives,

they never get a
chance at this once.

We have it, if we
want it. We have it.

I am not about to
stab Jack in the back.

Good. Then go talk to
him, for Christ's sake.

Go speak to him, man-to-man.

Make him understand that
we should be the ones

to finish out the year.

He can come back next
year when he's healthy,

and we'll move on
someplace else.

- I got to piss.
- No.

Look at me! You tell me
this team is better off

with Jack McKinney
as its coach. Huh?

Not Jack before the
accident. Jack now.

- Tell me that.

We had our shot.

- Oh, bullshit.
- It was... It was great.

I fucking loved it.

- I'm not about to steal his.
- Oh, don't be a pussy.

You didn't put him
on that fucking bike!

- Just let me fucking pee in peace!
- No!

- Not until I hear you say it!
- Jesus, for Christ's sakes.

Not until you say
the fucking truth!

That you want this thing!

You want this thing
as much as I do!

- It's not about that.
- Yes, it is.

He's like a brother to me.

Well then, he'll understand.

Riley: Jesus fuck! Is
that fucking blood?

Fuck!

- Hey, we need help!
- Pat?

- We need help in here! Paul?

Paul? Paul!

- Something wrong?
- Go get the fucking trainer!

Good morning.

Good morning.

- Hospital administration, huh?

One day.

Regular hours, steady pay.

Mm.

You know,

my mom put herself
through night school, too.

Where is she, anyway? She's
still sleeping it off?

- Yeah. Your daughter, too.
- Well,

guess we're not the
Partridge Family.

I've seen worse.

Anyway, thanks for
sticking around.

Hope your husband
isn't too upset

that I wasn't able
to drive you home.

I hope wherever he
is, he's miserable.

Vaya con díos, huh?

Vaya con somebody.

Just not me. Not his son.

Me and my mom were
on our own, too.

For a while.

Those were the salad days.

You love her very much.

I respect her even more.

What she did with what she
had, what she put up with?

Raising me when she's
still a kid herself.

No help from any man to
call himself a husband,

that's for damn sure.

I don't know how
you ladies do it.

But I'd do anything
to pay it back.

- You're a good son.
- Your boy will see it that way, too.

Do you wanna see
a picture of him?

Yeah!

- What's his name?
- Mario.

- I'll tell you what.

You keep doing the
right thing by my mom,

once she's back up on her
feet, and you're done...

I'll pick up the tab.

Your school, your tuition,
you know, whatever it takes.

On one condition.

That you let me sit with
him at your graduation,

so I can see his face.

That's...

That's very generous of you.

Jerry: I have my moments.

What's wrong with you?

Jeanie-bean.

She's here for Grandma.

Yeah, of course, she is.

You're not the fucking patient!

Jeanie, you don't know
what you're talking about.

I know she's dying.

Did you know that?

The treatment

didn't work, and
her cancer is back.

And she made all the doctors
promise not to tell you

because, God forbid,

we put a damper
on your good time

and make you feel bad
for sleeping till noon

- and fucking the nurse!
- That's enough!

It's fine. I'm finished.

- Is that what you heard?

I'm sorry.

Well, shit.

Hearn: This is Chick Hearn
alongside Keith Erickson.

Welcome to the City of
Brotherly Love, folks,

where a capacity
crowd is here to see

the dazzling Dr. Julius Erving

face off with fellow
All-Star Magic Johnson.

But the drama for the
Lakers, once again,

is on the sidelines, Keith,

with interim Head
Coach Paul West head

rushed minutes ago
to Temple Hospital

to have a kidney stone removed.

Not making this up,
leaving his assistant,

our own Pat Riley, as
interim interim Head Coach.

This is becoming quite
a tongue twister.

And of course, we wish Paul
all the best and a speedy...

Folks, we've said it before,

but if you want a car
or truck, go see Cal.

Cal Worthington and his dog Spud

McKinney: Well

it's nice to be the guy
without the catheter for once.

The job should come
with hazard pay.

McKinney: Does that cover
daggers in the back?

West head: Jack,

will you let us
finish out the year?

I'm not trying to
steal your team, Jack.

No?

While you recuperate,

while you get ready
for next season.

It's what's best for everyone.

- McKinney: I understand.
- Especially the guys...

You do?

I understand completely.

Jack...

You have no idea what
a relief that is. I...

I drove myself sick...

Do you know why I
picked you, Paul?

Because I know how
hard that job can be.

How frustrating...

Being stuck as someone's flunky

when you're capable of more.

I didn't want someone
to go through that.

Like I did.

That's why I picked you.

Because you're not
capable of more.

No... Actually, that's not fair.

I thought I saw loyalty.

So, you did surprise
me after all.

:
This is my life's work

you want to take away from me.

You fucking dilettante.

Alright, Paul's not here,

but we're sticking with the
plan. Stick with the plan.

Push the ball. Intensity
on defense and rebound.

Let's go. Team on three.

- One, two, three, team!
- All: Team!

Let's go, fellas.

Welcome to the hot seat, Coach.

Might wanna look into
some life insurance.

Welcome to Philadelphia,
young blood.

- Ready for this?
- Johnson: You already know it.

What's up? Are you ready?

- I know you're ready.
- Good.

Tonight with the All-Star break
behind them, the Lakers will be

looking to get back
to their winning ways.

Always better when you
can get that first win

- under your belt.
- Keith Erickson: Absolutely.

Go! Go.

Looks a little
different up close.

Hearn: My, oh, my,
Keith, I'll tell you,

a blistering loss
for these Lakers.

And easily, I got to tell you,

the worst game of the season
for young Magic Johnson,

who looked every bit the rookie

out there next to Dr. J.

Just a-a very poor performance
by the young kid from Lansing.

Julius Erving: We showing
you enough hospitality

in the City of Brotherly Love?

- Come on, man.

You what... You ain't
got enough on the court?

You gotta dunk on me in
the locker room, too?

Come on. Cap. Good
game. Really good game.

Good to see you,
Coop. Big Spence.

- I got bruises all over my body 'cause of you.
- Haywood: Oh yeah?

Erving: Yeah, yeah. You take
it easy next time, alright?

You take it easy every time.

Alright, now, Choney.
Good game, young blood.

You, too.

How's your lady and those
shrimp? You still up to join us

on the town? I did offer.

I'm good.

Thanks, though.

Raincheck.

Johnson: This just tonight.

You know that, don't you?

They gonna be other nights.

There always are.

That Julius is a
real nice fellow.

Yeah. Cool as all get-out.

Played you like a
fucking fiddle.

Know, Russell used to do
the same thing to Wilt.

Before a game, he'd
take him out to dinner,

make like he was the
best of friends, and then

slit his throat.

Never understood why
Wilt kept fallin' for it.

I landed on the thought

that he needed to be liked
more than he had to win.

Anyways

he got his wish.

That's why you ain't
want to draft me?

Think I needed to be liked?

I thought you were
a little too happy.

- Well, I'm a happy guy.
- No, you're not.

No, you hide it behind
those set of pearly whites,

so most folks never
know. But, I do.

Because I know that feeling.

If I had any sense,

I'd be sitting on a
fuckin' beach right now

with my beautiful bride sipping
Mai-Tais and giving her a baby.

But I told her...

Riley needed backup, so I swung
out here to watch you guys

living a life I bitched
about for 20 fuckin' years.

Go fuckin' figure.

You think we got what
it take to win it all?

Got the talent. That's a gimme.

But that's only ever gonna get
you press and pussy though.

A championship...

Well

that takes a real killer.

I scored 25,192
points in my career.

You know what keeps me up?

If I'd scored 10 more
in just five games,

I'd have five rings instead
of fuckin' nightmares.

You got that one though.

Yeah.

And I wouldn't give it up for all
the fucking happy in the world.

You know, we holed up in
a place just like this

when we first got
here, Ma and me.

- I'm sorry.

She's gonna die.

Lucia: I'm sorry.

Happy's a distraction.

Nobody...

Nobody will ever
understand that.

Not your family. Not
your fucking teammates.

Not your woman. Nobody.

Matter of fact, they might
even hate your fucking guts

because of it.

: I wanna win.

- I want...
- You what?

I wanna win.

I wanna win.

I fucking want... I
fucking wanna win!

I got to!

I got to.

Well

we're gonna find out.