All language subtitles for The.Goldbergs.2013.S07E11.1080p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DDP5.1.H.264-NTb_track3_[eng]

ADULT ADAM: Back in the '80s, the hottest trends were Jams,

Wayfarer, Swatch watches,
and acid-wash jeans.

But at William Penn Academy,

there was one item
of colorful wool clothing

that the biggest trendsetters were never without.

Is it just me,
or does everyone but us
have a letterman jacket?

Speak for yourself, bro.

Did I miss the day
they sell the clothes
from the lost and found?

We earned these.
I lettered in badminton.

Dive team.
Bass fishing.

Wow. This school's
athletic department

has really grown
in the last few years.

Yep, I'm a jock now,

and I get
all the sweet benefits
that come with it.

Hello, my romantic equal.

Die, dork.
And the dance begins.

Well, it's not like I need
a stupid varsity letter

to get into film school.

Au contraire.
Balls!

And balls may be
exactly what you
need, Mr. Goldberg.

You need to round out
your personal journey

with some
athletic challenges.

But people who make movies
don't care about sports.

Not true.

Alfred Hitchcock...
Star tailback.

Ron Howard...
Decathlete.

Ridley Scott...
Hockey goon.

That all seems
super wrong.

But are you saying
if I don't get
a varsity letter,

I won't get
into film school?

I'm not
not saying that.

Luckily,
I'm heading up a revival

of a storied William Penn
athletic institution.

Pickleball!

The sport of kings!

This is William Penn's
last championship
pickleball team.

Anyone look familiar?

Is that Vidal Sassoon?

That's me...
Earl "Mr. March" Ball.

March was the month
for the tri-state
pickleball finals,

hence the sobriquet.

I mostly follow.

Nice hair.
What happened?

Time.

She's a cruel thief.

She took my golden locks

but also
my precious pickleball

from the fore
of mainstream sports.

Come on.
Pickleball was
never a thing.

How dare you?

It swept the nation!

You seem fired up
for some reason,

so I'll match
your emotion.

Let's do this giant
ping-pong thing!

That's the spirit!

Coach Nick,

we got a fresh cucumber
ready to be brined.

Coach him up.
Never.

I'm done with you pushing
your filthy pickle in my gym.

Please remember,
words matter,

and I am the principal
of this school.

And I am the principal
of this gym.

The gym is inside the school,
so I am principal of both.

Damn it.
That tracks.

But I'll still never coach
this sorry excuse for a sport.

Yeah, seems like Coach Nick's
got some stuff going on.

Why don't you
just jump out there
and show us what you got?

Hey, everyone.
Let's have some fun.

Fresh dill
coming your way.

Oh, that seems cute...

Welcome to the pickle, bitch.

Such a regal game.

♪ I'm twisted up inside

♪ But nonetheless,
I feel the need to say

♪ I don't know the future

♪ But the past keeps getting
clearer every day ♪

ADULT ADAM:
It was January 15th,
1980-something,

and with my dad's birthday
fast approaching,

my mom was on edge.

Murray's turning 51
and has forbidden me

from exercising
my greatest gift.

Pointing out when someone's
put on a couple of pounds?

I'm very perceptive.
I can hear it over the phone.

But no,

it's planning elaborate,
over-the-top birthday parties.

ADULT ADAM: That's exactly
what she'd done for
my dad's 50th birthday,

but it turned out
he hated parties,

so he fell asleep
under a pile of coats
and missed the whole thing.

Which is why we're just having
a stupid family dinner

and I'm presenting him
with this tiny scrapbook.

"Murray Goldberg...
Husband, Father,

"President of
our United Hearts

"Volume 18"?

Well, a legacy this rich

can't be contained
in one volume.

The man has two shirts.
I think it can be done.

Where'd you get
all this stuff, anyway?

His dad gave me a box
of old memories.

Grumpy Ben?

I thought he hated memories
and Murray and boxes.

Yeah, he's not great.

Yo, where's your checkbook?
There's a shirt I want.

I mean...
I need to recharge
my hug batteries.

Has college
taught you nothing?

You open with
the hug nonsense.

Go ahead.
It's in my purse.

Cheggit, it's Dad's
birth certificate.

Whoa.
He was a big baby.

They didn't even bother
with the ounces.

He's actually a year younger
than we thought he was.

Wait.
That can't be right.

Trust me, Bev,

the feds don't
get this stuff wrong.

Full disclosure...

I thought Dad
was in his mid-60s.

If this is real,

then that means Murray
is turning 50 again,

which means I get a redo.

That's your takeaway?

I wish I could redo
coming over here.

By the power vested
in me by me,

I am throwing Murray
a second 50th birthday party.

Yeah, I don't think
he's gonna be excited

about the party
or the life-changing error

that will rock him
to his core.

Pishposh.

Murray is gonna be thrilled
to hear the great news.

What the hell am I?

50!

Now you get to enjoy

the unspeakably grand
second 50th extravaganza

that I am somehow

gonna pull together
at the last minute.

I'm sorry.
I-I'm kinda reeling here.

My whole life's
been a lie.

Big-time.

If I had to guess,
it's that your hateful father

screwed up yet another detail
of your childhood.

But, hey,
cake and presents.

That rotten bastard.

Just go talk to him,
tell him how you feel.

Oh, I'm gonna
talk to him, all right.

I'm gonna talk to him good.

And also give him
this invitation.

How did you get these
printed up so quickly?

I get things done.

Now you go get this done
with your dad

so we can finally
have my party...

Your party.
Your party.

ADULT ADAM: While my dad
had a bone to pick
with his dad,

I had handpicked someone
to help me kick butt
at pickleball.

Barry,
I need your help.

No can do, bro.
I've got a midterm.

But I have
a sports emergency.

Say no more.
But first, say more.

What is the sport?
Pickleball.

You will be a champion
within hours.

You can do that?

Your relentless training
begins now.

I could barely do
a regular push-up.

This is just you
sitting on me.

If you can catch
a pickle blindfolded,
you can do anything.

Barry... Oh, oh!
Look alive.

Oh, God! They're wet
and surprisingly hard.

Oh, I'm so sorry.

Wax on, wax off.

This is how
Daniel -sanlearned

basic defensive
karate moves.

And how to apply
an important coat of wax
before it rains.

Barry...

You do know how to play
pickleball, don't you?

Till today,
I never heard of pickleball.

So this was just you
sitting on me

and winging pickles
at my head

and having me
clean your car?

Totally. Wouldn't it be
cool if those things

actually made you good
at pickleball?

You were last my hope.

Who am I supposed
to turn to now?

Chill.

I'll take you to my sports
mentor, Coach Mellor.

But Coach Mellor
disappeared

to follow his dream
to coach wrestling
to adult men in the woods.

We'll never find him.
And yet we will.

I'll tell the police
he robbed us at gunpoint.

Then they'll have to
find him for us.

Or we could just ask
his brother.

Not as fun, but I guess.

Is that one of those pickles
you threw at me earlier?

When you get to college,
you'll learn
the value of a pickle.

ADULT ADAM: While Barry and I set off to find Coach Mellor,

my dad was about
to go off on Pop-Pop.

Where you been?
I've been out here
five minutes.

Oh, I thought you were
that busybody lady
from across the street

who's always trying
to bring me food,
make sure I'm okay.

Open the door next time,
have a conversation,
that'll get rid of her.

What's crawling up
your ass?This.

What is that?
Deed to your fancy house?

Came here
to rub it in my face?
Nicely played.

It's my birth certificate.

It says I'm a year younger
than I thought.

Yeah. Well, oops.

"Oops"? How the hell
did this happen?

I was busy.
I didn't have time for things
like birthdays or meals

or wherever the hell
you were.

So, you've known
about this my whole life?

No, no.
Not your whole life.

I noticed it
when you were about 12...

Or, I guess, 11.

Unbelievable.

Oh, come on.
What difference
did it make?

The difference
of a year.

Here we go again,
his highness bellyaching
about his birthday.

What birthday?
You never even gave me one.

La-di-da. Look who needs
a birthday every year.

Who are you,
Colonel Sanders?

The chicken guy?
He was fancy,
though, huh?

I mean, who would
wear a white suit
around all those chickens?

Fine. The Colonel
is a Southern dandy.

But you never gave me
a card or a cake

or, God forbid,
a present!

Well, who knows
what kids want?

I told you every year!

Yeah, socks that
you'd call your own.

No, a transistor radio
to listen to a ball game!

Oh, boo-hoo.

You know what
you did get?
A roof.

Oh, you spoiled me
by letting me indoors.

Can I just say something?

Yeah, give me
your half-assed apology.

I wasn't going to
apologize.

What I was gonna say was
that if anybody handed me
an extra year,

I wouldn't spend it
complaining about
not getting a pony.

Transistor radio!

There he goes again.

Welcome to phase one
of your fabulous 50th
redo party.

ALL:
♪ Happy Bir... ♪

Not happy and no parties.

I'll be in the shed.

Check it out.

The breeze from
his angry walk-by
blew out the candles.

I wonder
what he wished for.

If I had to guess,
to sit in the shed.

ADULT ADAM: While my dad made party-planning a challenge,

finding Coach Mellor was
easier than we thought.

Coach Mellor?

Well, well, well.
If it isn't the
Goldfarb boys.

You look...
Like an old, stinky dook

left in your favorite
running shoe,

and you want
to go for a run,
but you can't,

'cause that hot steamer
owns that shoe now.

I was gonna say "sad,"
but sure,

I guess your
dook-shoe story
is more colorful.

What are you
doing here?

I thought you were
at billionaire oddball

John du Pont's
Foxcatcher Farm.

I was, but those dark woods

hid more secrets
than I'm willing to admit.

But I turned that
"L" into a "W"

by quitting coaching forever.

But you were the one
who always said
winners never quit.

And you said the only cure
for broken bones
is jumping jacks,

which is medically wrong,
but inspiring, I guess.

Sorry, boys,

but I've hung up
my whistle...there.

But it's
a sports emergency!

It's true.

Without you, I won't get
into the one school

that guarantees
future success...

Film school.

You know,
I've spent so much time

around jacked men
pushing physical
and societal limits

that I forgot
the charming whine
of a little boy.

Is that a yes?
Far from it. I'm no coach.

Look at me.
I'm a mess.

I've gained two pounds.

Told you not to eat
that 17th almond.

See that?
No self-control.

Whatever your thing is...
I can't help you, boys.
I'm sorry.

Wait, Coach,
is that you?

Yeah, that's me.

Were my delts
really that jacked?

Damn it, Rick,
leave pickleball in the past,
where it belongs.

You're just mad 'cause
I was a better P-Baller
than you were.

Of course I am.

I was an All-American
football player,

but God didn't grace me
with the delicate wrists

to wield that mighty paddle.

Enough talk about
God's fickle nature.

My pathetic-nerd brother

needs someone to show him
how to pickle.

It's true. I forgot
how pathetic
and nerdy he is.

I don't really think
that's the main
takeaway here.

Look at his spindly arms
and toothpick legs.

His concave chest
and that doughy neck.

And his flat feet
and sickly posture.

Spin around, Adam.

Show us how sad
the back of your body is.

Yeah, my instinct
is to say no.

You know what?
Seeing this tragic excuse

for the human form
in its full non-glory

is just the kick

in the two-button
polyester shorts I needed.

I'm back, baby!

Whoo!

And someone else
is back, too.

Hello, old friend.

Follow me to greatness, boys.

ADULT ADAM: With that,
my training began.

ADULT ADAM:
My dad didn't want
a birthday redo,

but my mom wasn't gonna take
"no" for an answer.

Welcome,
family and friends
of Murray Goldberg.

I've assembled
this dream team,

and Essie,

together to brainstorm
some ideas

for Murray's
50th surprise party.

Geoff will be
writing down your ideas.

Here's an idea.

We don't
throw Dad a party

because he clearly said
he doesn't want one.

Boo!

Don't write that down.

But Erica's right, Bevy.

The man chose a shed
over cake.

That's only because he has
never truly had a birthday.

Now, once Murray understands
the joy of celebrating
his special day,

that shed won't seem
like such a fun option.

Please. You just want a redo
of his last 50th birthday.

Okay.
Let's get pitching.

All right. What does
Murray Goldberg like?

BEVERLY: Hmm.

Hmm? Hmm? Hmm?
There are no bad ideas.

Cheese?

I'm also in
a cheese area.

Did somebody
already say cheese?

The man does love cheese.

Now we're cooking
with gas.

Okay, enough with cheese.
He likes other things.

Bevy, maybe we should
get the ball rolling

with things
he doesn't like.

There's a lot of those.

I'll start. People.

Dancing.
The Dallas Cowboys.

Neighbors who wave to him.

Loud music.
Loud birds.

Quiet birds.
Doctors who advertise.

My nephew, Darrin, for some
reason I can't understand.

Parties, which again
begs the question,

why are we doing this?

Mrs. Kremp, uh,
what did you say
after Vic said Cowboys?

Okay, this has obviously
been a huge waste of time.

Oh, I know!

Firemen acting
like big shots.

We're done, Vic.
Thanks for nothing.

Now, I need you all to get
the out of my house.

But come back in three hours,

and don't bring
any birds or Darrin.

He spells it
with an "I."

ADULT ADAM:
While my mom's party
committee fizzled out,

I was ready to sizzle
on the pickleball court.

You boys are in luck.

Not only are you being trained
by a pickleball champion,

but that champion happens
to have his own court.

Ha-ha!

Uh, you mean
this sad dirt patch?

And the net's
all broken.

You don't need a net.

I don't know anything
about pickleball,

but I'm pretty sure
you do.

It's, like, the only
thing you need.

Let's get to work.

Lob! Lob! Lob!

ADULT ADAM:
It was time to get
serious about pickleball.

Erne! Erne! Erne!

Luckily, I had two of the greatest sports mentors watching over me.

Dink! Dink!
Half Volley!Half Volley.

Thanks, Coach Echo.
Lob!

Erne! Dink!
But I still sucked.

Half Volley!
Big-time.

So dense.

That's the beets
and pears and bananas

and a second type
of beet.

Oh, yeah,
that's what I'm tasting.

Nah, you're tasting
the brewer's yeast.

Oh!

Okay!

But then something
crazy happened.

Maybe it was
all the yelling

or the beet smoothie.
Erne!

Dink! Half Volley!
Either way, pickleball
started to make sense.

Ooh.

Ooh! I brought the heat.

That's one spicy pickle,
Goldfarb.

We did good work
here today, Coach.

We really did.

This is the first time
since I escaped that
compound by foot

that I've felt
anything but numb.

What happened there?
I'm not ready.

But I think I kinda am.

I say when
you're kinda ready.

You're ready.
Kinda.

Meanwhile, my mom was
ready to hit my dad

with the best surprise
50th redo ever.

Everyone, come on in.
Welcome to Murmania.

Murmania?

Indeed. A love letter
to my husband in party form.

You might want
to remove your shoes,

'cause I'm about
to knock your socks off.

Well, I've got
a wicked bunion,
but okay.

Pretzels and milk,
anyone?

It's Mr. Goldberg's
favorite snackable drink.

My dad likes it
for some reason.

Behold.

Holy moly.
Is that the guy
from Channel Five

who hits the chime
when he does the weather?

I'd recognize
that simple chime anywhere.

Tonight's forecast...

100% chance
of Murray's tears of joy.

Oh, my.
What's happening here?

Oh, tonight, it's the dining
and reclining room.

Whoa, pretzel-y milk
and lumbar support.

But wait.
There's more.

Please welcome Lee
of Lee's Hoagies.

And for our final
special guest of the night,

someone my husband
has admired for years,

the Phillie Phanatic!

Oh!

The San Diego Chicken's
mortal enemy.

You've done it again,
Beverly.

You know what, Mom?
This is crazy,

and not in your usual
clinical way.

Aww.
Honestly, Dad is
gonna love this.

Well, after I asked you fools
what Murray would like,

I realized
nobody knows that man
better than me,

his perfect wife
with the beautiful
hair and skin.

Oh, Dad's walking
up the driveway.

Oh. Uh, okay.

Everybody, shut up!

Shut up.
Shut your faces.

Even you,
Phillie Phanatic.

Beverly, I don't think
he has a working mouth.

ALL: Surprise!

ADULT ADAM: In that moment,

my Dad took in
everything my mom did

to make
his birthday redo perfect,

and all he did was this.

Why, Chime Guy?

While my mom's party
was a bust,

I was ready to bust some moves on the pickleball court.

PRINCIPAL BALL:
Well, well, well.

Look who heard the siren song
of the pickle

and came
running back home.

Mr. March.

In the flesh.

Is your protege ready
to bring that hot dill?

All that stands
in the way

of a letterman jacket
and film school

is chopping a backspin
to the baseline.

I hope you play
as smooth as you talk.

Schernecke!

Goldberg,
you beat our worst player,
you're on the team.

Wait.
I'm our worst player?

Sorry you had
to hear it this way,

but glad we don't have to
tiptoe around it anymore.
Go get 'em.

ADULT ADAM: This was it.

My pickleball journey
may have been days
in the making,

but thanks to my training,

there was no way I wouldn't
dominate the court.

And I did.
COACH MELLOR: Yeah!

Sports was easy...

Until it wasn't.

Turns out, that point
would be my only one.

Try again.
Try again.

Yep, that day on
the pickleball court,

Matt Schernecke sliced
and served me up hard.

Okay, it's 20-1.
I think it's safe
to call it.

Terrible effort,
Goldberg.

Yes!
I'm still the worst.

Oh.

Damn it! Now I'll never
get into film school.

I just say that
to get folks interested
in joining the team.

Your future as a filmmaker
still may or may not happen.

That was
hard to watch.

So, this was all
for nothing?

Not nothing.

You proved beyond
a shadow of a doubt

that I'm not a coach
anymore.

I'm just a man.

A man who has to go
to a special gym

to find heavy enough
weights to lift.

But still just a man.

ADULT ADAM:
I'd failed at pickleball,

but I couldn't let
Coach Mellor think
that he failed me.

What are you doing?

Just sodding over
a beautiful pickleball court.

Thinking about putting
some azaleas right there,

maybe a lovely
crushed-stone path
where you're standing.

So long forever,
my special pickle.

I know this is a big blow,

but this yard is gonna be
a charming outdoor area
for entertaining.

Just say your piece.

I wanted to stop by
and say thanks.

Thanks for what?
You didn't make the team.

Yeah.

But you never gave up on me.

I-I know you don't
feel like a coach,

but I still think
you're one of the best.

Yeah.

Truth be told,
it was kinda nice
getting out there.

Well, you should know,
letterman jacket or not,

you've always
inspired me.

And you'll always
be my coach.

Damn it, Goldberg,
you know absolutely nothing
about physical fitness,

but you always seem to be able
to give my heart a workout.

W-What's this for?

Well, as far
as I'm concerned,

you'll always be first string
on the team of life.

That's not a thing.

Just put it on.

Now, bring it in
for a standing dog pile.

ADULT ADAM:
With that, I finally got
my letterman jacket.

As for Coach Mellor,
he was finally thinking

about getting
back in the game.

The thing is, when you
make peace with your past,

your future is wide open.

I'm sorry, Murray.

You said you didn't
want a party,
and I didn't listen.

I-It wasn't that.

It was perfect.

You liked it?

Yeah, all those people,
everything you did for me,
I loved it.

Then why
are you in here?

Oh, geez.

Oh.

My dad never cared
about my birthday,

so...

I tried not to care.

But tonight,

I realized
how much I missed.

Oh, Murray.

Nah, it's a good thing.

I may have
not had a great dad
or a great childhood,

but I have a great wife
and a great life now.

Well, you know what
the best part about
this whole thing is?

I saw hoagies
down there.

You're a whole year younger
than you thought you were.

And even better,
I get an extra
year with you.

ADULT ADAM: Sometimes,
if you're lucky enough,

life gives you
a second chance.

It might not happen the way
you thought it would,

but often,
you'll find the biggest wins
are off the court.

♪ Oh, oh,
our souls were singin'

♪ Do you remember

Turns out, no matter how
you count the years,

time keeps moving.

And sure, it's easy
to fear getting older,

but the truth is,
if you're busy worrying
about the past,

you might not notice
that the present moments

are often
the perfect ones.

And in the end,
those are the ones
you'll remember forever.

Here. I, uh,
got ya something.

Don't make a big deal.

♪ Ba-dee-ya,
say do you remember

Now you can listen
to all your ball games
or whatever.

I love it!

Yeah, well,
anyway, uh...

Happy birthday.

ADULT ADAM:
So, that's the story

of the second time
my dad turned 50

and how he always said

it was one of
the best nights
of his life.

♪ Ba-dee-ya, dee-ya, dee-ya

♪ Dee-ya ♪

Give him
this invitation.

How you doing, everybody?
I'm Adam Goldberg.

It's my dad's birthday
right now,

and he is 50 or 51.
We don't really know.

♪ Happy Birthday ♪

50 years, and look
what I have
to show for it.

Well, well, well.

Look who came to dance
one last pickle.

Hey, Mr. March,
or should I say,

Mr. March Your Ass Out of Here
on a Stretcher?

That was tortured.

Like your forehand.

I hope you got
your hot dog ready,

because you're about to be
relish, my friend.

Bring the pickle!

Pickle!

Aah!

Damn it, that hurt!

Curse you and this
God-awful excuse for a sport!