All language subtitles for Finding.Forrester.2000.1080p.BluRay.x265-RARBG

(Man) Marker.

♪Yo, nothin' can keep me detained,
I retain to numb pain

♪ Brain insane, the opposite
of humane to go against this

♪Analysts, lyricists, you should bear
witness for the end ofyour existence

♪ I rap gloom

♪Give niggas gat wounds
and pack 'em in catacombs

♪Cos your lives will expire when you test
the empire, aka, body outliner

♪ I send you in and feast
when I release the beast within

♪ It's time to meet the Reaper's twin

♪So run from the truth
and you might get boost

♪ My desert goose
will abuse and misuse

♪You're bulletproof

♪To watch you spit red juice
when your bones rip loose

♪ Niggas dat's full of it, bite the bullet
and get their lit hit and split

♪Cos even the seeds could eat
within this apple

♪ I'm the type of nigga that'd clap you
while you're prayin' in your chapel

♪ I'm fillin' caskets with casuals
cos the baskets try to battle

♪ For example,
I told this chump to stop

♪ Didn't know the punk was cocky
till the punk was up the block

♪ So you guys better realise
inflammation is what you're facin'

♪ From hell, I'm armed well,
protective vest

♪ I got a medal to chest,
execution style, sentenced to death

♪ No other choice, weapons are useless
cos verse merges with the voice ♪

(♪ Jazz music over audio)

(Woman) Hey, Jamal !

Jamal, are you awake?

Jamal, I know you can hear me !

Jamal, I'm writing all this down.
I have that thing with your teacher.

Then they got me working late,
so take care of yourself for dinner, OK?

- OK?
- OK.

Hey, I thought you wanted
to get up by 07:30.

- Hey, hear the chains singing?
- Check that up, man.

Hold on, hold on.
What up, J? Where you been, man?

- Asleep, yo.
- What's goin' on, man?

Wondering how
I was gonna save your ass out here.

- What are you saying?
- What up, Damon.

J, break him up, man.

(Forrester) "You can't give him that."

- (Fly) You can't give him that, man.
- (Jamal) I'm awake now, y'all.

Come on, man.
You got something for me?

(Fly) Soufflé, baby!

- (Jamal) You got nothing for me, man.
- A lot of good that's doing.

(Car alarm beeps)

(Man) He's bringing something
for the Window.

- (Fly) You ever seen him?
- (Fly) The Window?

Yeah.

No, but he see us, man.

Come on ! What's wrong with y'all?
Y'all wanna play ball?

Wake up.

(Voices overlap)

In 1845, Poe wrote his most
famous piece, The Raven.

A poem he wrote while he was strung out
on coke and obsessed with death.

The Raven is like the football team.

There's a team obsessed with death,
always get they ass kick.

(Laughter)

Baltimore Ravens: only pro football team
to be named after a classic poem.

Anyone read it?

"Once upon a midnight dreary

"while I pondered weak and weary..."

Jamal, how about it?

Nah, I never read it.

(Bell rings)

OK, I need those essays
by next Tuesday.

My dad saw the Window, man.
About 20 years ago.

Standing there like a ghost,
like the ones that be in our science books.

- Just like that, man.
- So he was white?

- Ain't milk white?
- Ever seen a ghost that wasn't white?

Yo, man. I'm just playing, man.

But I heard he killed somebody.
That's why he has to stay inside and all.

You got to kill an army
to hide around here.

Y'all play too much. Remember Shurrita?
The one who lived below the Window?

She calls me up this one night,
buggin', dog.

Talkin' bout she heard this tapping sound
coming from upstairs by the Window's place.

Tap... tap... tap.

Yo, while she was on the phone, man,
she started screaming, dog,

'cause now the tapping that made
its way down the stairs somehow...

- Tap... tap.. tap.
- Listen, fool.

And now it was on the other side
of her door, dog.

She could tell it was some kind of knife
he was tapping with.

And before she could hang up,
the phone disconnected.

That was the last time
we seen Shurrita.

- Shurrita who lived across the street?
- Oh !

- You know that girl's a crack ho.
- No, she was all right.

Listen, all I know
is that the Window's bad news, man.

Rules was, if you wanted to go outside,
you stay away from the Window's place.

We need to stay away
from your lying ass!

J, you believe me, right?
You feel me?

You full of shit, dog.

Damn.

So let me guess.
So, you'd go up in there, right?

- Ooh...
- It's an old man looking out a window.

Superman, you'd go up there, right?

- He won't go.
- Let them know, J !

- He's not gonna go.
- This nigga's scared. Ooh !

Yo, I got the next call.

- So?
- So...

- I dare you to go up there, right?
- Right?

Whatever, man.
I'll go up there. Yeah.

- He's going.
- Big shot.

- Fine, bring it.
- That's my dog.

- You feel me !
- D, I believe you, dog.

Shut up, dog.
Go to class or something.

Hey, man. Sit over here.

- It's a vivrant thing. Go over there.
- Fine...

- I won't sit next to you...
- Take your apple, too.

(Hip-hop instrumental)

- Miss Joyce?
- Yes.

Good to see you.
Come and have a seat.

So we got Jamal's test scores back.

- Test scores?
- Assessment tests.

The state education department
requires all the kids to take them.

He didn't tell you, did he?

Mrs Wallace,
Jamal maintains a C average,

which means he does enough to get by
and just enough not to stand out.

Now, what makes Jamal's case unusual
are his test results.

Oh, my God.

I see him reading all these books
all the time. Books I never read.

Some I've never even heard of.
And he's always writing in his notebooks.

Ever since his father left.
But that's what I see.

All he ever talks about is basketball.

Basketball is where
he gets his acceptance.

The kids here don't care about
what he can put down on paper.

(Referee) Let's go !
Between the yellow lines! Let's go !

- What up, Fly? How you?
- Maintaining.

Look, look.
You looking for tickets, little bro?

Dead tonight.
Sorry about that, fellas.

Come on, man. We know you got tickets.

I got four words for you :
Bos-Ton-Red-Sox.

Aight? Yanks and Sox tickets
damn near been sold out almost a month.

Aight, Mr Fly?

By the way, go tell Camry boy there
to back up his cheap-ass bumper

on that Mercedes over there.
Go handle that. Let's go, Fly!

What up, Jamal? Moms called.

- Told me about the tests. What's up?
- Nothing, man.

"Nothing"? This getting in the way
of your plans or something?

Remember, it was your plan first, T.

Yeah, I know, a little college ball,

then start signing cheques for everybody,
solving everybody else's problems.

Look at me, though.

Whoa, hold a minute.

Hold onto these.

I guess this makes it our plan now.

- One thing.
- What up?

Don't say nothing about
them test scores to nobody.

Don't worry about that. I'm your brother, dog.

Whatever me and you discuss
stays between me and you.

Love you, dog. Aight?

Just make sure
you keep one thing in mind.

Moms gonna know when the game is over,
so you take your ass straight home.

Don't get into no trouble, man.
Be careful. Stay safe. Love, dog.

- Aight, T. Good luck, man.
- Aight, Jamal. Be careful, man.

It stinks in here.

J, see that window?
He keeps that one cracked sometimes.

Yo, man, light's been out
for two hours, dog.

Yo, you sure he asleep?

Them Methuselahs, like, a thousand
years old. That's all they ever do.

Yo, J, man. For the real, son,
I don't know about this.

I think I'm... Oh, shit!

I think Ima pull the cord, y'all.

- Aight, yo, I got this one.
- Rats.

- Aight. Yo, Fly.
- Keep it. You gotta bring something out.

Yo, man, if you hear us,
drop down, aight?

- (Jamal) Aight.
- Don't stay in there too long, dog.

(Jamal) I got you.

This thing is rickety.

(TV show playing)

(Jamal yelps)

- Yo, yo, yo !
- Oh, shit! Yo, you got something?

- Holy shit!
- What happened?

(Forrester) You son of a bitch !

(Fly) Dickheads, he wasn't asleep.
He was right there. Did you see him?

Not for long.

Jamal, would you stop bouncing
that damn ball in the house?

I got Michael Jordan's name
written in dirt all over my floor.

Don't worry, Ma, I'll clean it.

I got a better chance
of Michael Jordan cleaning it.

Hey, if you're thinking of a shower,
the hot water's taking a few minutes.

- I wasn't thinking about it.
- Hey, hey! Where's your pack?

- I don't know.
- "Don't know"?

What do you mean,
you "don't know"?

We wanted you to bring something,
not leave something.

- Why don't you leave this one alone?
- What was in your bag anyway?

I'm not talking about the damn bag.

I bet you ain't, man.

Let me teach you something.
Watch the eyes.

He's probably watching you right now.

Stop !

You oughta know about that, man.
Here, show us how you do it.

(Car alarm beeps)

- I'm not gonna do anything to your car.
- I'm sorry?

You got some worried look,
like I'm about to do something to your car.

I worry about this car everywhere,
not just here,

so don't take it personally.

- It's just a car, man.
- No, it's not "just a car". It's a BMW.

Anybody who knows anything
about that company

knows that it's more
than "just a car".

Oh, anybody who knows
anything about that company?

- So I wouldn't know anything like that.
- No, that's not what I meant.

Last thing I knew about BMW

was they used to make plane engines
when they first started.

Guy by the name of Franz Popp
started it all.

Franz Popp. I like that name.

Made this one engine before 1920.
It flew six miles up.

Popp and his boys
were just getting started, man.

They made this one engine, the 801,
World War II,

14 cylinders,
2,300 horsepower, seven miles up.

With more time, they'd have bombed
the shit out of England,

maybe even won the war.

That's where this comes from.

White propeller zipping
around a blue sky.

After the war, we told them
they couldn't make plane engines.

That's when BMW gave some
serious thought to making cars.

Kind of like this one.

But you probably knew all that,
being as you lease one.

Thanks for the history lesson.

No problem, man.

(Alarm beeps)

Messin' with my stuff, man.

Um...
The other night was...

It was just this dare thing
me and my boys do.

Um...

I was wondering maybe
I could bring you more of my stuff,

or maybe I could write something else.

How about 5,000 words on
why you'll stay the fuck out of my home?

(Female neighbour moaning)

(Moaning crescendos)

(Mutters) Come on, man.
I know you're in there.

Take your goddamn hand off my door!

Um... I just came to...

to drop off that thing
you asked me for.

What thing?

The 5,000 words on why you wanted me
to stay out of your place.

At least that's kind of the way
you said it.

(Forrester) Well, try remembering it
exactly as I said it!

(Choir sings spiritual)

- (Dr Simon) Come on in, Jamal.
- (Mrs Wallace) Hi, honey.

It's OK.

(Dr Simon) Sit down.

Mrs Wallace, Jamal, when we got
your recent test scores,

we figured there might be some interest
from the private schools.

Well, it turns out we were right.

- Mr Bradley.
- Jamal, Mrs Wallace...

My name's David Bradley.
I'm with the Mailor School in Manhattan.

- Mailor...? Mailor-Callow?
- That's right.

- Are you familiar with us?
- Yeah.

Jamal, Mailor-Callow is not only
the best prep school in the city,

it's one of the finest private schools
on the East Coast.

Only the best go there.

As you might imagine,
we're a few weeks into our fall term,

but every year we hold some openings
while we wait for the test scores to come in.

Jamal, your test scores, to put it mildly,
caught our attention.

I'm here to see if you'd be interested
in attending our school.

Jamal...

We know leaving for another school,
especially a private one, won't be easy.

But this isn't the right place
for you anymore.

Jamal, it's not a difficult choice.

Mr Bradley, um...
there is no way we could pay for this.

We're not asking you to.

Jamal, when Dr Simon mentioned
only the best go to Mailor,

he neglected to mention that

our commitment to excellence
extends beyond the classroom.

- I figured that.
- We thought you might.

Mrs Wallace, about 40 of our students
have gone on to play college ball.

Three have made it to
the professional level.

We took the liberty
of evaluating your play last year,

and while this would be strictly
an academic offer,

we won't be disappointed
if you choose to play.

All we ask is you come out
for a couple of days, take a look,

think it over.

- OK.
- Mrs Wallace.

- Thank you.
- Jamal.

- (Mrs Wallace) Goodbye.
- (Bradley) We'll be in touch.

(Hears choir singing spiritual
in his head)

(Bolt clicks)

(Jamal) I didn't knock this time, man.

(Forrester)
To whom were you speaking?

I'll tell you that when I get
my 5,000 words back.

(Several bolts, latches
and locks opened)

Bolt the door if you're coming in.

The man in the car?

(Jamal) Um...

He was from this private school.

He wants me to go there.

We don't have to pay anything, though.

We live a couple of blocks from here,
me and my mom.

Well... my brother was there
a couple of years ago,

but he left after my dad left.

My mom got tired of waiting
for my dad to get himself clean.

And my dad got tired of trying.

That's when I started writing.

What's your name?

Jamal Wallace.

Sounds like some kind of marmalade.

How old are you?

I'm 16.

Sixteen?

And you're black.

It's remarkable.

"Remarkable"? What...?

It's remarkable that I'm black?

What has me being black
got to do with anything, man?

You don't know
what to do right now, do you?

If you tell me
what you really want to tell me,

I might not read any more of this.

But if you let me run you down
with this racist bullshit,

what does that make... you?

- I'm not playing this game, man.
- Oh, I say you are playing it.

An expression is worth
a thousand words.

Perhaps in your case, just two.

Here.

(Mutters) Dumb-ass old man.

(Door slams)

(Sighs heavily)

"One hand to give, one hand to receive,
as we eat together in unity.

"May our minds, bodies,
and spirits grow strong.

"And congratulations to Jamal.
Amen."

- Amen.
- Did you see this?

- Let me see.
- Don't mess it up.

Wait.

From the cover, this looks like
the funny-man school to me.

Terrell, eat your food.

You gonna be just fine, baby bro, cos
Mommy don't make nothing but soldiers.

You coulda done the same thing.

I work at a parking lot,
and I ain't just no regular lot attendant.

I am the supervisor
of all the parking-lot attendants.

You don't know how much money
you gonna make from week to week.

One week it's $50,
one week it's $100.

- Ma, leave him alone.
- That's not a real job.

Ma, look, I rap. I get busy.
You know I got my rap thing going.

Terrell, don't bring up the rap.
Eat your food.

- Want to hear one o' my songs?
- Eat your food.

Ima sing it for you right now.

♪ When I come due,
when I blow the spot

♪ Your son, the supervisor
of the parking lot... ♪

- (Mrs Wallace chuckles)
- Tell it, Jamal, my voice is hot, right?

(Girl) Jamal Wallace?

- Yeah?
- Hi. I'm Claire Spence.

Bradley asked me to show you around
this morning.

All right.

Come on.

Don't worry about answering
any questions or anything,

not till you decide
what you're going to do.

Besides, the teachers here aren't
all that into student participation.

They're too busy
listening to themselves talk.

- What do you mean?
- You'll see.

This morning, we begin our third
required reading of the semester.

The study of a novel
that offers everything

and an author who could have
offered much more.

That's Robert Crawford. He's been here
as long as most of the buildings.

When William Forrester was 23,
in 1953,

he set out to write his first book.

A lot of aspiring authors talked about
writing the great 20th-century novel.

Well, William Forrester did it
on his first try.

Have you read this?

Yeah. You?

Only about a dozen times.

This was the only one
he chose to publish.

For all we know,
it was the only one he chose to write.

Your job, over the next week...

Your job, over the next week,
is to read it and tell me why.

So...

you gonna be back tomorrow?

Yeah. They want me to spend
some time on the court.

Yeah, I heard.

Graduation was a little rough
on last year's team, that's all.

But it's just like college, right?

You get an education
and they get what they want.

- Or maybe you both get what you want.
- Yeah, maybe.

Well, it was very nice
meeting you, Jamal.

You, too, Claire.
You gonna be around tomorrow?

Not where you'll be,
but you might find me for lunch.

(Jamal) Phew!

- I didn't say those two words yesterday.
- Why didn't you?

'Cause I want you to read
some more of my stuff.

You know they talk a lot about you
out there, right?

All this "legend" bullshit.

They got some stories, though.
People wonder if you killed somebody.

That, and wondering why
you been in here so long.

I wouldn't move. I'd stay for the quiet.
You don't hear nothing in here.

Our place got these noisy neighbours.

Their kid's always yelling
'cause he's only a year old,

or Pops is yelling
cos the kid's making noise.

And, then, Moms, on top of that, is yelling.
But, then, that's a different kind of yelling.

'Cause that's when the old man's
playing the tunes for her

and she got her head banging
up against the wall.

She be screaming, like..."Oh !"

You'd better stir that soup.

- What?
- Stir the soup before it firms up.

How come ours never gets
anything on it?

Come on, come on. Closer.

Closer... Now.

You got somebody
doing that kind of yelling?

What I have here is an adult male.
Quite pretty.

Probably strayed from the park.

A Connecticut warbler.

You ever go outside to do any of this?

You should've stayed
with the soup question.

The object of a question is to obtain
information that matters to us

and to no one else.

You were wondering
why your soup doesn't firm up?

Probably because your mother
was brought up in a house

that never thought
about wasting milk in soup.

Now, that question was a good one.

In contrast to,
do I ever go outside?

Which fails to meet the basic criteria of
obtaining information that matters to you.

All right, man. I guess I don't have
any more soup questions.

No?

Why'd you say all that stuff before
about me being black?

It had nothing to do
with you being black.

It had everything to do
with me finding out

just how much bullshit
you'd put up with.

- So you knew I'd come back?
- Yes.

Just like I know
you'll go to this new school.

How do you know that?

Because there's a question in your writing
about what you wish to do with your life.

That is a question your present school
cannot answer for you.

(Blows whistle) Let's match up.
Wallace, you take Hartwell.

- What's up, man? I'm Jamal.
- Just check it, all right?

- Check the ball.
- (Third student) Let's go, guys.

(Hartwell) Come on now.

Ball's in !

(Coach) Play him tough.
Play him tough.

Way to go, gang.

- Yo, D-up. Let's go, garbage.
- Come on.

Come on.

Step up.

Why don't you leave
the trash-talking back home?

What?
Get that goofy look off your face.

- I'm gonna make you my son right now.
- Right?

- You my son right now.
- Come on, huh?

(Jamal) Let's go.

- Come on, man.
- What?

You're too small.

(Coach) Whoa ! A little defence
would be real nice.

Coach, you're right. A little defence.

- Try to get past the line.
- What did you say?

I said, get past the line.

Pressure.

Too much. Too much.

- I need some help !
- Ten seconds. Let's go the other way.

Shit!

- I'm taking your spot.
- What?

- I'm taking your spot.
- You take nothing. Come on.

Ooh ! Ooh !

(Hartwell) My court, babe. My court.

That's how we play it down here, man.

John Hartwell's just a rich kid
who wants as much of the spotlight

as he can get, in his senior year,
that's all it is.

- They take things real serious.
- Yeah, well, it's a serious place.

Serious enough that I end up here,
getting lunch on my books most days.

What's that you're working on?

Forrester's book.

- Thought you'd read it a dozen times.
- I know, but look at this.

My dad got it for me.
It's an early printing.

- Um... Listen, I got to go.
- But you just got here !

I know, but I forgot something.
I got to check up on something.

I'll see you later.

"Born 1930 in Scotland.

"Moved to New York
with his family in his late teens.

"Mr Forrester was unavailable
for comment."

Yeah, I bet he was.

Are we now planning
to make these visits a habit?

- You said you knew I'd be coming back.
- Yes, but I thought you meant once.

I need some help
with this thing they got us doing at school.

Ah, yes. This "thing" at school.

And what "thing"
are we talking about now?

(Jamal) You ever read that?

I'm trying, man. I just can't seem
to get past the first ten pages, though.

(Forrester mutters)

As I recall, I took a while
to get past those pages myself.

Christ, you've dog-eared one of them.
Show a little respect for the author.

That's you, isn't it?

You're the author.

I read the whole thing. It's not bad.
Especially the part...

(Forrester) Hey... I...

I know what it is.

The last thing I need is another person
telling me what they think it is.

I wasn't going to say that.

What were you going to say?
I should tell you everything about me?

I told you about me.

You could learn a little something
about holding back.

If I ask you not to say anything
to anybody

about here, us.

Is that something I can trust you on?

Yeah.

I promise.

Fine.

And if I ask you to keep helping me
with my writing?

There'll be no questions about me,

my family,
or why there was only one book.

Then I won't ask.

Good.

And goodnight.

What's it feel like?

What?

Writing something the way you did.

Perhaps you'll find out.

(Door slams shut)

(Distant siren wails)

(Mellow hip-hop)

Listen, you 5-foot nothing.

That's what I'm saying, though.

You in the crib !

Kenzo, how old are you again?

Why?

Look at your face !
Your mom didn't do that to you, did she?

She started you young.

You know where he gets that from?
Eating too much cookie.

Teresa told me.

I like 'em big.
You got a problem with that?

- Nothing wrong with a big girl !
- That big?

It don't make a difference. It's like
when I'm with all three of your mothers.

- Not my mother.
- Yeah.

Hold on, Oscar Mayer Wiener.

Stop playing, man. You got beat like Tina
in school one day. I seen Duke smack you.

Listen, throw it at your momma.
Every day, throw it towards your momma.

Your momma. Stop throwing your momma.

It's all in your tank, brother.

Why you laughing?

Man, your glasses are like Coke bottles.

Classics.

- You ever met somebody famous?
- How famous?

Like, I don't know, like...

somebody people would know.

Nobody like that
comes around here, man.

So are you here for good now?

Yeah. I'm just trying to get started.

Well, at least it would look good.

(Man) You'll be pleased to know this year's
writing competition has been scheduled.

For those who choose to take part,
all entries must be turned in

before spring break, which means you
have a few months of procrastination left.

(Chuckling)

Feel free to experiment
with a more proactive approach.

- (Bell chimes)
- (Man) The...

Mr Wallace?

Please.

I had a chance to review the files
sent over by your former school.

Test scores, impressive.

Actual classroom work,
not so impressive.

Is this the level of work
I should anticipate, Mr Wallace?

Mm...?

Because if it is...

it will go a long way toward
helping me determine

whether I should treat you as a student

or as someone who is here simply to pursue,
how should I put it...

other endeavours?

Of course, your work will give you
ample opportunity to respond.

Good day, Mr Wallace.

Just so you know,
you handled that the right way.

How is that?

You didn't say anything.
It's the ones who do that run into trouble.

- John Coleridge.
- Jamal Wallace.

So, how many people do say something?

And actually stay in Crawford's class?
Not many.

Um...

I missed what you said.

I didn't say anything.

You read all these?

No, I just keep them
to impress all my visitors.

All your visitors.

We've been talking
about your book at school.

People have been talking about it for years.
They just haven't been saying anything.

I think I got it down, though.

I figure you were writing
about how life never works out.

Oh, really? You had to read a book
to figure that out?

Yeah, but Crawford's messed up on it
anyhow.

Says the guy having trouble
after the war is really you.

Some symbolism shit for all the problems
you were having with everybody.

Robert Crawford?

Yeah. I think it's bullshit, though.
I think there really was somebody else.

(Man) Mr Johannsen?

Here.

Mr Massie.
Another trip to your favourite destination.

(Massie) I've got four bags today.
I can just leave them if you like.

(Forrester) Oh, no, no, no.

Come right in.

How you doing, Mr Johannsen?

It's at least a half hour
before the sun goes down.

Then you can begin your panic-driven
quest back to Manhattan.

Well, this should last you
till next week.

Your mail is in this one.

Mr Johannsen?

- (Massie) The essentials are in...
- (Forrester) Essentials?

I took care of your bills.
I put all the copies in this one.

The phone company wants to know
if you want to continue service,

being as how you haven't had a call
in about...

I got your socks for the next couple of weeks,
which are in this one.

I have your latest cheque
from accounting.

They wanted to know if you cashed
the last one. It's showing up outstanding.

Not as outstanding as it once was.
H m...?

Oh...

I'm sorry.
I didn't realise you had company.

We were just having a discussion on
German automobile history. Care to join us?

- No, I'm in the tow-away.
- Of course you are.

So I'll see you next week?

Not if I'm lucky.

Why don't you give that guy a break
and do your own shopping?

Why are your socks inside out?

Because socks are badly designed.

The seams are on the inside.
They hurt the toes.

In some cultures, it's good luck
to wear something inside out.

And you believe that?

No. But it's like praying.
What do you risk?

And I do go outside. How do you think
those windows get cleaned?

Now, about this professor of yours.

How did it feel having him tell you
what you can't do?

Like he knew he was better than me.

Then let's show him what you can do.

Why is it the words we write
for ourselves

are always so much better than
the words we write for others? Move.

Sit.

Go ahead.

Go ahead and what?

Write.

What are you doing?

I'm writing. Like you'll be,
when you start punching those keys.

Is there a problem?

No. I'm just thinking.

No. No thinking. That comes later.

(Fast-paced jazz plays)

You write your first draft
with your heart.

And you rewrite with your head.

The first key to writing is...
to write.

Not to think.

Jesus.

Is there a chance you might sit down?

"A Season of Faith's Perfection".
What's this?

Start typing that.

Sometimes the simple rhythm of typing
gets us from page one to page two.

When you begin to feel your own words,
start typing them.

Punch the keys for God's sake !

Yes.

Yes!

You're the man now, dog.

Jamal?

Whatever we write in this apartment,

stays in this apartment.

No exceptions.

(Door is opened)

(Door is closed)

(Man and woman
speak loudly next door)

(Banging, loud moaning)

OK, let's push it, guys, c'mon.

- That's a foul.
- What do you mean? I had the spot.

- I'll let you know when you got the spot.
- Hey, hey, hey, hey!

Gentlemen, our season begins in one week.
If I see this kind of thing one more time,

I'm gonna have you shooting fouls
to see who runs today.

Is that understood? Is that understood?

One.

Two.

Three.

Eleven.

Twelve.

Thirteen.

Twenty-nine.

Forty-eight.

Forty-nine.

Hold it.

One more.

(Boy whoops)

That was one of the most impressive things
I've ever seen on a basketball court.

And why do I know it wasn't good enough
for either one of you?

Shower up and get out of here.

You may think we're the same. We're not.

Mr Wallace?

Mr Wallace.

- Professor Crawford?
- The latest paper you turned in...

It displayed quite a bit of improvement
from your earlier work.

- Thank you.
- Yes.

How long did it take you to write it?

- I wrote it last night.
- (Chuckles) Last night.

Well, I have some things
to finish up here.

Good day, Mr Wallace.

'That's right. Select again.

- "'Birds of a Feather" for 600.
- (Man) 'Answer:

'Vibrant in colour, its name borrows
from this Vivien Leigh character.'

Scarlet tanager.

No, man, it's "What is the scarlet tanager?"

What is the scarlet tanager?

See? Gotta know the rules
if you wanna play the game.

It was written by a writer
you have never heard of.

"Thy duty, winged flame of spring,

"is but to love and fly...

"...and sing". He was writing about
the song of the tanager.

A song about new seasons, new life.

That's James Lowell, man.

I know who he is.

(Man) 'I'll stay with "Poor Assumptions"
for 800, Alex.'

Ever see any scarlet tanagers
around here?

They don't stray that far from the park.

So, your professor wasn't exactly
full of praise this afternoon.

No, not exactly.

There's something you should know
about Robert Crawford.

He wrote a book a few years after mine

and all the publishers rejected it,
which was the right decision.

And, er... Instead of writing another one,

he took a job teaching others
how to write.

How do you know all that?

Just keep in mind that
bitterly-disappointed teachers

can be either very effective
or very dangerous.

(Rumbling thunder)

All right, this is the first step tonight, guys.
Mailor on three.

One, two, three, Mailor!

(Muffled roar of crowd)

Gold. Black.

Straight and high, boys.

(Cheering)

What up, J?

- You was in there tonight?
- 26 points.

8 out of 10 from the floor,
10 from 10 from the line.

I'm supposed to miss any of that, man?

It was hot.

You were putting some serious ink
on that stat page.

What's going on?

Brothers is going by Red Rose, man.
I told them we'd catch up.

Friday night. Come on.

Jamal, you plan on doing that
every night?

- Worked out, I guess.
- I'd say it worked out.

This is Fly.

Hi, Fly. I'm Claire.
You a friend of Jamal's?

Claire ! Come on.

I'm coming.

Hey, don't hold that bus up too long.
Nice meeting you, Fly.

All right.
What the hell you working there, man?

Shut up, man.

Yo, about Red Rose.

I got to go to this dude's house.
They do it every year.

Don't be going off on this, man.

Yo. You big time. You best be going now.
I don't want to hold your bus up.

Are you gonna be around this weekend?

Where do you think I'm gonna be?
In the Hamptons?

(Mid-tempo jazz)

It was very nice talking with you.
Now, if there is anything you need,

please give me a call. OK?
Anything.

OK?

Building up a collection of those things?

Yeah, a few.

Want to go outside for a while?

Yeah. You know this place?

I live in this place. Come on.

They'll be in there till midnight,
congratulating themselves on your game.

Which means I get to cram tomorrow
for this test on Monday.

Test on what?

It's on the Sherlock Holmes books.

They've got us tracking down
all this completely worthless stuff like,

who introduced Watson to Holmes?

They give it to you
'cause it forces you to read everything.

Looks like it might be a while.

Maybe so.

Who's this friend, Fly?
How long have you known each other?

For a while. He was born there
and I was born there, too.

- In the Bronx?
- Yeah.

Must be hard.

- What?
- I don't know...

New people, new school.

It's not?

No.

What's hard is growing up in a place
cops don't even want to be in after dark.

What's hard is knowing
that you're safe there.

'Cause the people you need to worry about
know you've got nothing to give 'em.

So it's a good thing you're here.

Yeah, but... These people don't think
I got anything to give them either.

Don't let me get by you, now.
Once I get by you, Ima score, all right?

You ready?
Now stay in front of me, all right?

- All right?
- OK.

I got by you, man.

You're bigger than I am.

It doesn't matter.
You still gotta play defence.

How do I do that?

How do you play defence?
I'll show you one way, here.

Turn around.

Feel that?

I feel it.

Now, see... I know where you're gonna go,
'cause I can feel where you're gonna move.

All right, now try and move left.

See, you can't get around me.
I feel you moving left.

Try and go right.

See? I'm still here.

I feel when you try and go right,
so you can't go there neither.

Now try and get by me.

Hold on.

You gotta dribble first.

Dribble. OK. Like.

- Like this?
- Yeah !

- Sorry.
- Claire.

Daddy?

Some of our guests are leaving.

I'll see you on Monday, OK?

Oh, Claire?

Yeah?

It was Stamford.

Excuse me?

At the bar in London.

He's the one who introduced
Watson to Holmes.

Might actually save you some time
after everybody's done in there.

You know how long
I've been working on that, man?

It ain't one season of faith's perfection.
Feels like I worked on it for two or three.

Oh, you're in that place
where you can't even hear me, huh.

I could ask why you never moved out
of this neighbourhood, and you wouldn't...

Paragraph three starts
with a conjunction : "and".

You should never start a sentence
with a conjunction.

- Sure you can.
- No.

It's a firm rule.

No. See...

it was a firm rule. Sometimes if you use
a basic conjunction at the start of a sentence,

it can make it stand out. And that may be
what the writer's trying to do.

And what is the risk?

The risk is doing it too much.

It's a distraction and it could give
your piece a run-on feeling.

But the rule on using "and" or "but"
at the start of a sentence is pretty shaky.

Even though it's still taught in too many
schools, by too many professors.

Some of the best writers have ignored
that rule for years, including you.

Well, you've taken something
which was mine

and made it yours.
That's quite an accomplishment.

Thank you.

The title is still mine, isn't it?

- I guess.
- Well.

It was the neighbourhood
that changed, not me.

Oh, please...
I ain't seen nothin' changed.

You "ain't seen nothin"'?
What in the hell kind of sentence is that?

When you're in here,
don't talk like you do out there.

I was messin' with you, man.
It was a joke.

Go ahead. I wanna hear
about the neighbourhood,

back when people
were still reading your book.

(Coughs)

What did you say?

- Nothing.
- No...

You said, "Back when people
were still reading my book".

Didn't you?

We have 24 copies,
but I'm sorry, they're checked out.

Oh... Well...

Thank you anyway.

(Door slams)

Any luck?

Did you get on the waiting list?

Hey, man, your book was checked out.

And, yes,
I did pay for dinner.

It cost me $13,
so I guess you made your point.

I tried to call to see what food you wanted,
but the phone kept ringing.

I took the bell out 20 years ago.

Let me ask you something.

How come a guy like you...

...wastes his time reading
"National Enquirer"?

What's wrong with it?

I mean...

It's trash, man.

You should be reading, like,
"The Times" or something.

I read "The Times" for dinner,

but this...

this is my dessert.

They got some contest at school.
This writing thing.

- You ever enter one of those?
- A writing contest?

- Yeah.
- Once.

- A long time ago.
- Did you win?

Well, of course I won.

Like money or something?

The Pulitzer.

Oh.

Well, they make all the students
read in front of everyone.

What the hell's that got to do
with writing?

Writers write so that readers can read.
Let someone else read it.

You ever read your own book?

In public? Hell, no.

I barely read it in private.

You know those things they do,
that coffee-shop reading shit?

Do you know why they do it?

To sell books, I guess.

'Cause they want to get laid.

Really? Women will sleep with you
if you write a book?

Women will sleep with you
if you write a bad book.

- Did it ever happen to you?
- Sure.

Did you ever get married?

Not exactly a soup question, is it?

No, I never did.

But I learned a few things along the way,

which might be of help with this young lady
you're always talking about.

Like what?

The key to a woman's heart

is an unexpected gift
at an unexpected time.

You're giving me advice on women?

Unexpected gift, unexpected time.

This is so unexpected.

Oh, Jamal.

It's not a first printing or anything.

Oh, my gosh.

- What happened?
- This is a signed copy.

I can't accept this.
It must've cost a fortune.

It didn't cost that much, really.

Maybe the bookstore missed it.

Bookstores don't usually miss this stuff.

(Jamal) So how'd you end up
going to Mailor?

(Claire) Mailor was originally
an all-boys' school,

so my father did what anyone
in his position would do.

He got on the board
and changed the rules.

And every kid there knows it.

They'd have done it anyway.

That doesn't change anything.
I'm still Dr Spence's daughter.

- Jamal...
- Yeah?

That night at my home,
after the game,

when you were showing me
how to play basketball...

...was that all you were showing me?

Listen, I don't think that's going to work?

What?

That.

Why not?

Ask your father.

Jamal... I'm not asking for some kind
of prenuptial agreement here.

It's just a question.

Why does everything have to be
so black and white with you?

I forgot what the question was.

You don't forget anything,
Mr Stamford.

(Crowd roars)

(Man) You don't think he wrote it?
That's a serious accusation, Robert.

You come to the faculty board
with something like this.

I'm aware of how serious it is.

It's remarkable work.

You recognise any of it?

It smacks of something.

But I don't know.

The boy does well in my class.
He had good scores coming in.

Maybe all he needed was some direction.

Carl, he's a basketball player
from the Bronx.

Who just happens to have won 17 straight
for a school that likes winning.

Robert, have you considered
that he might just be that good?

Not this good.

(Indistinct audio on TV)

Do you know
what the absolute best moment is?

It's when you've finished your first draft
and you read it by yourself.

Before these arseholes take something
that they couldn't do in a lifetime

and tear it down in a single day.

People love that book, man.

I didn't write it for them.

And when the critics started
all this bullshit

about what it was
I was really trying to say...

...well, I decided then,
one book was enough.

William, that was 50 years ago, man.

(Groans, snores)

- (William)
- Mm?

(Thunder rumbles, rain pours)

William, man, I actually spent money
on these tickets. Come on.

Is it still light outside?

It's night-time, man.

Oh...

Well?

You look good, man.
I mean, it's not the latest stuff...

I wasn't asking how I look.

- I was asking, are we ready to go?
- Oh, yeah. Come on, man.

(Forrester) Let's go.

Come on.

We play here in two weeks.

I said, we play here in two weeks.
State tournament.

Hold on. They got a programme.
Let me get a programme.

(Horns blare)

William !

Yo, William !

Damn.

Yo, William !

William...

C'mon. Let's get you out of here.

I got you.

You used to get out, right?

Yeah, a long time ago.

- Well, what happened?
- How the hell should I know?

I didn't keep track of the time.

- Sorry for losing you back there.
- Uh...

No apology needed.

Good. 'Cause I've got one more place.
It's quiet and it's on the way home.

You only got ten minutes.

- All right.
- Keep it going.

- Take care.
- It's all good.

- Thanks a lot.
- Yeah.

Ground level.

"The House That Ruth Built."

Why did you bring me here?

Because it's your birthday, man.

I looked it up in the almanac.

They don't even have you
in the dead-people section yet.

I figure with all the games you watched

with whoever you watched them with,

you probably never got down this close.

What the hell are they doing on the dirt?

What you worried about, man?

You acting like they're going to play a World
Series championship game or something.

Relax.

My brother and I,
we were here for every game.

(Helicopter flies overhead)

Till he left for the war.

I thought it'd be the same
when he came back, but, er...

...he talked a little less
and drank a little more.

I promised my mother
I would help him get through it all.

So, I caught up with him this one night
and, er...

...I was already half a dozen drinks behind.

So we had a few more,

and after a while,
he tells me he wants to...

...drive me back to the apartment.

I said, "No, thanks".

We were all still living there then.

I just stood there and...

...watched him drive off.

He makes it through the whole
goddamn war and I let him drive.

Later that night, the nurse was typing
whatever it is they type,

and you know what she tells me?

She tells me how much
my book meant to her.

My brother is getting cold
in the next room...

...and all she can talk about is a book.

Well...

Everything changed from then on.

Within five months, I buried him,
my ma, my father.

All of them here. In the Bronx.

We'd spend our summers here.

And if we were lucky, the fall.

A lot of falls with those teams.

Yeah, well...

...not enough.

"The rest of those
who have gone before us

"cannot steady the unrest
of those to follow."

You wrote that in your book.

Jamal.

I realise that if I give you enough time,
you'll find a way

to amaze even me.

Does he know?

No, he doesn't know.

This was one of the best evenings
I've had in quite some time.

All of it?

Yes.

All of it.

Well, I.

This guy.

How do you say
you know this guy again?

- He's my teacher.
- Yeah?

(Jamal) Yeah.

Seemed like a different kind of dude,
man.

Anyone in particular?

I sometimes come here in the morning.

Just me, the aspiring,
and all of them.

There was a note downstairs
said I should come and see you.

Mr Wallace...

I think it's time you and I had an honest
and open discussion about your writing.

I thought you liked it.

Your recent work?

I liked it very much.

No, Mr Wallace, the question concerning
your most recent work

isn't whether it's good,
it's whether it's too good.

The acceleration in your progress from
your old school to this one is unusual,

to the point that I'm faced with drawing
one of two conclusions.

Either you've been blessed
with an uncommon gift

that has suddenly decided to kick in...

...or...

...you're getting your inspiration
from elsewhere.

Given your previous education
and your background,

I'm sure you'll forgive me
for coming to some of my own conclusions.

I wrote those papers, man.

Then you won't mind showing me.

The next assignment's due in two weeks.

I'll schedule some time for you
to come to my office.

I, er...

I'd like to have you write it there.

In the meantime, if there's anything
you wish to talk about...

I'm not writing anything, man.

Which proves what?

If a two-comma kid wrote these papers,

would he say,
"Considering your background"?

- Two-comma kids?
- A million dollars, man.

- One comma, two commas.
- No.

No, I don't.

Do you know what people
are most afraid of?

- What?
- What they don't understand.

When we don't understand,
we turn to our assumptions.

Crawford cannot understand

how a black kid from the Bronx
can write the way you do.

So he assumes you can't.

Just like I assume he's an asshole.

You knew him, didn't you?

Crawford? No.

But he thought he knew me.

So what's all that stuff
about his book, then?

A lot of writers know
the rules about writing,

but they don't know how to write.

So?

So Crawford wrote a book
about four authors who did know.

And I was the only one still alive.

-And?
- Well, he convinced a publisher to buy it.

So...

I made a polite telephone call
to this publisher, telling him and others

that, er... I was in the process
of writing a second book

and if they wished to bid on it...

Oh, so that's why
Crawford's book went away.

But you already knew
there wasn't going to be a second book.

Yeah, but they didn't.

Interesting what happens when
the resources aren't close at hand, isn't it?

(Crawford) The rich tradition of handing in
composition entries

on the final day continues

for yet another year.

Ladies and gentlemen,

may I have your attention?
(Taps blackboard)

Please, if you don't mind.

"Ere sin could blight or sorrow fade

"Death came with friendly care

"The opening bud to heaven convey'd..."

How nice of you to join us.

That's not part of the poem, hm...

"And bade it blossom there." Anyone?

A little more early morning reticence
than usual.

Mr Coleridge.

Please.

Mr Coleridge...

How many students
would you say we have here today?

(Coleridge) Um...

I'm not sure.

Perhaps you could humour us
with a guess.

- Thirty?
- Thirty.

And of that 30, there isn't one person here
who knows the author of that passage.

- I find that remarkable, don't you?
- Um.

Mr Coleridge.

Perhaps we should back into this.
Mr Coleridge...

In looking at this, what, if any conclusions,
might we be able to draw?

Um...
You mean about the author?

About anything.

Do any of the words
strike you as unusual?

Mr Coleridge, feel free to view this
as the appropriate time for a response.

"Ere...", um, "ere".

"Ere". And why is that unusual?

Because it sounds old.

It does sound old, doesn't it?

And do you know why it sounds old,
Mr Coleridge?

It's because it is old.
More than 200 years old.

Written before you were born,
before your father was born,

before your father's father was born.

But that still does not excuse the fact that
you don't know who wrote it, now, does it,

Mr Coleridge?

Um...
I'm sorry, sir, I don't...

You, of all the people in this room,
should know who wrote that passage.

And do you know why, Mr Coleridge?

I repeat, do you know why?

Just say your name, man.

Excuse me. Did you have something
to contribute, Mr Wallace?

I just said that he should say his name.

And why would it be helpful
for Mr Coleridge to say his name?

Because that's who wrote it.

Very good, Mr Wallace.

Perhaps your skills do extend
a bit farther than basketball.

Now, if we can turn to page...
You may be seated, Mr Coleridge.

Turn to page 120
in the little blue book that I'm certain...

Further.

I'm sorry?

(Whispers) Don't.

You said my skills extend "farther"
than the basketball court.

"Farther" relates to distance.

"Further" is a definition of degree.

You should have said "further".

Are you challenging me,
Mr Wallace?

Not any more than you challenged
Coleridge.

Perhaps the challenge should
have been directed elsewhere.

"It is a melancholy truth that even great...

(Jamal) "Great men have poor relations."

Dickens.

- "You will hear the beat of... "
- Kipling.

- "All great truths begin... "
- Shaw.

- "Man is the only animal...
- "That blushes or needs to."

It's Mark Twain.

- Come on, Professor...
- Get out!

Get out.

Yeah. I'll get out.

- Jamal...
- Leave it alone, Claire.

Hold on, please.

That's what they do around here?
Kick you out if you know something?

You've no idea what Crawford does
to students who do this.

Yeah, you're right about that.

Jamal !

- Do you think you should apologise?
- No.

- Do you?
- No.

You did nothing wrong.
You just beat him at his own game.

But, however... it would be a good time
to be careful.

Careful? Careful about what?

Well, you've been blessed with a gift

that should allow you
to do some remarkable things with your life.

That is, if you don't screw it up
by being a 16-year-old right now. OK?

- Jamal.
- Yeah.

- You got a call from the office.
- All right.

(Door opens)

Mr Wallace, please.

As you know,

Professor Matthews is on the faculty board.
Dr Spence is chair of the trustees' board.

The three of us have been reviewing
the writing competition submissions.

We were hoping you might clarify a couple
of points concerning your submission.

"A Season of Faith's Perfection".

Your piece, correct?

Yeah, that's it.

It is standard policy to ask students
if they wish to credit any source material

or acknowledge any other writers
when turning in an assignment.

Do you wish to do that?

1960.

An essay titled Baseball's Best Year
with a subtitle that reads:

"A Season of Faith's Perfection".

Published in "The New Yorker" magazine
and written by one William Forrester.

Your version is actually quite original,

but then, of course, there is the title
and the first paragraph to consider.

Isn't there?

(Matthews) Jamal...

Either you happen to have
the permission of William Forrester...

Or...

Have you some other explanation?

No.

- That's my paper.
- Well, then...

Your entry's now withdrawn and this
becomes a matter for the board to consider.

Bear in mind the board does have
the authority

to place you on academic probation,

which would,
among other things, prevent you

from playing basketball here in the future.

(Spence) Jamal...

Look... Being as the board doesn't meet
until next week,

we've decided to let you play
in this weekend's state championship.

But I have to warn you

that the board has a history
of taking these matters...

...quite seriously.

So we would like to suggest
what we feel

is a solution that may satisfy
these concerns.

Robert.

Obviously,
the most import thing is making certain

this type of violation doesn't repeat itself.

So...

you will be required
to write a letter of apology

to the students you took advantage of

by submitting this piece...

...and you are to read that letter
in front of my class.

I'm not reading anything.

I'm sure the board will take that
into consideration

when deciding
whether to renew your scholarship.

(Matthews) I'm afraid you haven't let us
with too many options, Jamal.

Excuse me.

Don't ever embarrass me
in front of my class.

Return the pen when you're finished.

No conventional greetings today?

Why have me rewrite something
you published?

Be careful.

Why didn't you tell me
some magazine ran it?

Why the hell should it matter?

You should have told me.

What did you do with it?

I turned it in.

I turned it in.
I had to show them something.

You promised me anything we wrote
in here would stay in here.

I know!

- I just thought...
- Shut up.

What are they telling you?

I go on probation unless I write some letter
saying I was wrong.

Then write the letter.

I already told you
I'm not writing anything.

You got him, he gets you.
Write the letter.

And you'd let him do that?

(Sighs)

Oh, this supposed to be
another damn lesson, huh.

I'm getting tired of all these lessons, man.
Every time I come here.

So, the title of your essay is at the top
of my paper. What's the lesson in that?

I'm not the one who turned it in.

Yeah, but you were the one who talked
all that trash when all you had to say was,

"Jamal, keep this one here
'cause it got printed in "The New Yorker"".

That's all you had to say, man.

- I could use a little help on this one.
- Oh, no, that's not an option.

- You don't even have to go anywhere...
- I said, that's not an option.

Sorry, man.

I've got a history of people not helping me.

Oh, Christ.
Not that self-pity father bullshit.

What did you say?

Man, fuck you, William !

You wanna hear the real bullshit? How
about you letting me take it on this one

'cause you're too scared to walk out that
door and do something for somebody else.

You're too damn scared, man.

That's the only damn reason.

(Glass smashes)

You don't know a goddamn thing
about reasons.

There are no reasons!

Reasons why some of us live
and why some of us don't.

Well, fortunately for you,
you've decades to figure that out.

So what's the reason
for having a file cabinet full of writing

and keeping that shit locked
so nobody can ever read it?

What is that, man?

I'm done with this shit.

(Door closes)

Oh, look. Jamal Wallace,
Here to pay us a visit, man.

What's up?

- What's up, man?
- What's up, y'all?

Come on, man.

(Whooping)

Damn !

I know, I know, I know.
I'm seeing it.

(Crowd roars in background)

How does your first game
in the Garden feel?

A little closer than I thought.

That's why I thought
it might be a good time for us to talk.

Listen, Jamal...

I know it's been difficult
handling all of these classes

with all the time
they ask you to spend on the court.

God knows I couldn't handle that load.
Not at this school.

And maybe it was unfair of us
to ask you to do it.

I've been talking to some
of the board members and to Crawford

and bottom line is, we don't want
to pursue this any more than you do.

So, I'm here to present you with an offer.
We forget about the whole thing.

We set you up, next year, with
an academic schedule that's less demanding.

You mean, Crawford wanted that?

Crawford wants what's best for you.

And for the school.

But then, what am I supposed to do?

You hold up a championship trophy
at the end of this tournament.

You make that happen,
I'll make the rest of it happen.

All right?

Now, go finish up what you came to do.

Let's go, Pilgrims! Let's go, Pilgrims!
Pilgrims, let's go.

OK, let's go !
Throw it to Jamal !

(Crowd chants)
Defence ! Defence ! Defence !

Damn, man. Come on, man.

(Chanting) Defence ! Defence ! Defence !

- Oh. Oh, oh, oh...
- Jamal, get the ball !

Good pass, man.

Pick it up.

Offensive foul ! That way!

10, Gold. Offensive ! That way.

OK, you got him now. You got him now.
Let's go.

(Whistle)

Timeout.

Ok, this is still our game. We make a stop
here, they'll have to put us on the line.

When that happens, it's all over.
Don't lose your composure out there.

If they score, we don't call a timeout.
The ball goes to Hartwell or Wallace.

OK? Hartwell or Wallace. Let's go, guys.

Go !

What's the score?

It ain't looking good, Ma.
It ain't looking good.

Foul. 22, blue. Two shots.

Foul, blue team, 22.
Hit, two. Go line up, guys.

Two shots.

C'mon.
We're going to make these.

- I can't look.
- It's gonna be all right, Ma.

(Man shouts) Put it in, baby!

(Whispers) Do it.

Damn.

One shot.

That's game.

(Mrs Wallace) Thank God.
He must have come in after we left.

Let him sleep.

- I'll turn the light off.
- Turn it off and come on.

(Whispers) You started cleaning up
your room, Jamal.

(Man on TV) 'He looks
very happy with himself, that coyote...'

(Knocking)

(Knocking continues)

(Man on TV) 'So,
this is how they avoid that problem.

'Because he might be Wile E. Coyote,
but he's also Wussy Coyote.

'Because they don't like
getting their feet wet...'

(Forrester) Hey!

Jamal, he wrote that for you.

When?

After the game.

He's going back to the school
this morning.

It's funny, though.

They always let you get but so far,

before taking everything away from you.

God, he's such a good kid, man.
Then he gets to come back to this shit.

Is that seat open?

I think so.

This isn't exactly
where I thought I'd find you.

It's still my school, man.

They want me out,
they gonna have to do it themselves.

They will.

Whatever.

"The winter's darkness and cold is but
a momentary prelude to the new spring.

"And while its grip seems endless,
our own perseverance proves equal.

"We renew ourselves once again,

"seeking out the bright moments
that will serve..." Uh...

"...that will serve therefore..."

Uh... Uh...

"Therefore serve
as the foundation of our future."

- Thank you.
- (Applause)

(Forrester) Professor Crawford.

May I read a few words?

(Whispers) What's he doing here?

Yes, of course, by all means.

Thank you, Professor.

My name is William Forrester.

Excuse me.

I'm that one.

Losing Family

"Losing family obliges us
to find our family.

"Not always the family that is our blood,

"but the family that
can become our blood.

"Should we have the wisdom
to open our door to this new family,

"we will find that the wishes we had
for the father, who once guided us,

"for the brother, who once inspired us..."

(Music over audio)

"The only thing left to say will be,

"'I wish I had seen this,
or I wish I had done that, or I wish..."'

Most of you are too young
to know what your wishes will be.

But when I read these words,

words of hope, dreams,

I realise that the one wish that
was granted to me, so late in life,

was the gift of friendship.

Mr Forrester, I'm sure I speak on behalf
of everyone here

in thanking you for this unexpected visit.

The quality of your words...

is something we should
all aspire to reach.

Mr Forrester...

May I ask to what
do we owe this honour?

Professor Crawford...

I spoke here today because
a friend of mine wasn't allowed to.

A friend who had the integrity
to protect me

when I was unwilling to protect him.

His name is Jamal Wallace.

Jamal Wallace is a friend of yours?

Yes, he is.

I helped him to find his own words
by starting with some of mine.

And in return, he promised never
to say anything to anybody about me.

- A promise which he kept.
- Mr Forrester...

While your visit appears to be heartfelt,
I'm sure you will appreciate

it will not change or interfere

with this institution reaching a fair
and proper decision in his case.

There's one more issue here.

Those words that I read today...

I didn't write them...

Jamal Wallace did.

(Crawford) Quiet.

Quiet! Quiet, please !

Be still.

Shush, shush, shush !

Quiet, please.

- That has no bearing on the decision...
- Robert...

I... As director of this competition,
I have final say in this matter.

Robert, sit down.

I have been a teacher
for more than 30 years.

That's long enough to know
that integrity counts for something.

I'd say that Mr Forrester has cleared up
this matter very nicely for us all

and as chairman of the faculty board,
I have the last word in that matter.

Mr Wallace, you are excused
from next week's board meeting.

Mr Forrester...

should you ever have an interest
in a teaching position...

No.

Jamal, these are your words?

(Matthews) Sixteen.

Remarkable.

(Whoops)

I'm thinking you'll make
your own decisions from here on.

I'm thinking you're about to say something
more like, I always could.

No more lessons.
I have a question, though.

Those two foul shots
at the end of the game...

...did you miss them
or did you miss them?

Not exactly a soup question, is it?

Let's go.

Do you think our vaudeville act today
will merit the "National Enquirer"?

- Oh, yeah. Definitely.
- Well...

Whatever happens, I'm off.

What's the word you and your friends
would use for that?

Leaving?

Oh, God.

Where you off to?

Well... I have a homeland
I haven't seen for too long.

You mean Ireland.

Scotland, for God's sake.

I'm messin' with you, man.

Be sure to write.

- Hey, Jamal.
- (Mutters) What's up?

Hey.

What's up, John?

You heard from William?

Yeah, but I don't know what he's doing,
though. But, er...

He keeps sending these letters,
checking up on college recruiters.

I was just downstairs.
Looks like you got another one.

- Word?
- Yeah.

- I'll see you around.
- All right.

(Man) Jamal?

Hi.

- Steve Sanderson.
- How are you doing?

Thanks for coming down
at such short notice.

No problem.

What school are you from?

Oh, no, no. I'm a lawyer, here in town.
I work with Roberts & Carter.

- A lawyer.
- Yeah.

But congratulations with all that.
That's... that's great.

Really, really... Really great.

We got a bunch of guys in the office
following you...

We're the legal representation
for William Forrester.

How is he?

Sit down.

Um...

We've received word
that William passed away.

I'm sorry.

He wanted you to have
these things right away.

What happened?

William had cancer.

They found it a couple of years ago.

Jamal, this is crazy.

- (Mrs Wallace) Oh, my God.
- (Terrell) Wow.

Look at all these books.

Don't touch anything.

(Forrester's voice) "Dear Jamal :

"Someone I once knew wrote
that we walk away from our dreams,

"afraid that we may fail,
or worse yet, afraid we may succeed.

"You need to know that while I knew
early on that you would realise your dreams,

"I never imagined
I would once again realise my own.

"Seasons change, young man.

"While I waited until the winter of my life
to see what I've seen this past year,

"there is no doubt I would have waited
too long, had it not been for you."

Hey...

You gonna be here awhile, man?

Just can't watch the eyes this time.

You gonna be OK, man. Come on.

Come on, man.

Get up.

(♪ ISRAEL KAMAKAWIWO'OLE:
"Somewhere Over the Rainbow")

♪ Somewhere over the rainbow

♪ Way up high

♪ And the dreams that you dreamed of

♪ Once in a lullaby

♪ Somewhere over the rainbow

♪ Bluebirds fly

♪ And the dreams that you dreamed of

♪ Dreams really do come true

♪ Someday I'll wish upon a star

♪ Wake up where the clouds
are far behind me

♪ Where trouble melts like lemon drops

♪ High above the chimney top

♪ That's where you'll find me

♪ Somewhere over the rainbow

♪ Bluebirds fly

♪ And the dream that you dare to

♪ Oh, why, oh, why can't I?

(♪ segues into:
"What A Wonderful World")

♪ Well, I see trees of green
and red roses too

♪ I'll watch them bloom
for me and you

♪ And I think to myself

♪ What a wonderful world

♪I see skies of blue
and I see clouds of white

♪ And the bright blessed day

♪ I like the dark

♪ And I think to myself

♪ What a wonderful world

♪ The colors of the rainbow,
so pretty in the sky

♪ Are also on the faces
of people passing by

♪ I see friends shaking hands

♪ Singing, how do you do?

♪ They're really saying

♪ I love you

♪ I hear babies crying,
I watch them grow

♪ They'll learn much more
than we'll know

♪ And I think to myself

♪ What a wonderful world

♪ Somewhere over the rainbow

♪ Way up high

♪ The dream that you dare to

♪ Why, oh, why can't I? ♪