All language subtitles for Him3_[eng]

(grand orchestral fanfare
playing)

- (electrical crackling)
- (door rattling)

(rumbling)

(jet engines whooshing)

- (rousing theme music plays)
- TV ANNOUNCER 1: Sports.

Theater with real consequences.

All right, welcome back to NTN
and the USFF Championship

on this beautiful day,
where the San Antonio Saviors

have one more shot
at making history.

TV ANNOUNCER 2 (laughing):
And just look at that crowd.

You know, it's not just
what happens on the field.

It's also about the fans,
the memories.

It's more than just a game.

TV ANNOUNCER 1:
And it's a special day

for the Saviors and their
star quarterback, Isaiah White.

He has been having
a fairy-tale year. This man...

CAM SR.:
All right, boy, ready?

Fingers on the laces.

Remember that.

...we go. Here we go.

CAM SR.:
All right, let's go.

Let's go.

- It's all or nothing.
- And here they go.

- They're taking the field.
- Come on, Isaiah.

Come on, Isaiah.

Come on, Isaiah.
Come on, Isaiah.

Come on, Isaiah.

- Oh!
- Let's go!

TV ANNOUNCER 2: He's looking.
He's under a rush.

TV ANNOUNCER 1:
It's in the air. It's...

- TV ANNOUNCER 2: Touchdown!
- Yes!

- Touchdown!
- Oh! Yeah!

- Isaiah White's fairy-tale
season... -Let's go!

- We won!
- CAM SR.: We did it.

- YVETTE: We did it! We did it!
- We did it.

TV ANNOUNCER 1: Saviors win it
all in dramatic fashion.

TV ANNOUNCER 2: And, uh,
hold on a second here, uh...

We got a man down on the field.

TV ANNOUNCER 1:
That's-that's Isaiah White.

Isaiah White is down,

and it doesn't look like
he's getting up anytime soon.

This does not look good.

He's gone from potential hero
to a guy that looks like

he may have to be carted
off the field.

♪ ♪

CAM SR.:
You see that, Cam?

That's what real men do.

They make sacrifices.

No guts, no glory.

We won.

- Yeah.
- (laughs)

TV ANNOUNCER 1:
USFF couldn't exist without

the help of our sponsor,
Gold Bar Bets,

where your bet's
as good as gold.

We won.

You up next?

- You the next Isaiah?
- Yeah!

- "Isaiah, I'm coming."
- Isaiah, I'm coming!

Yeah, say, "Isaiah, I'm coming."

Isaiah, I'm coming!

- You next?
- Yeah!

- "It's my time."
- It's my time!

Who are you?

- I'm him.
- Who are you?

- I'm him!
- Yeah, let's go, boy.

Saviors.

Let 'em know. Let 'em know.

I'm the man!

(cheering and applause)

TV ANNOUNCER 2: And here
we are, 14 years later,

with Isaiah White just winning

his eighth championship
with the Saviors

after what we thought
was a career-ending injury.

COMMENTATOR 1:
He built dynasties.

COMMENTATOR 2: ...how quickly
Isaiah White recovered from...

- Not one, not two, not three...
- TV ANNOUNCER 1: It's a miracle

- he's still playing.
- Eight rings. -Eight.

- Clutch moments. Pressure
moments. -A different breed.

COMMENTATOR 2:
He's the greatest winner

this league has ever seen.

TV ANNOUNCER 2:
And now we go live with a word

from our Saviors' owner.

I just want to say
congratulations to the Saviors.

A great year.

(chuckles):
On all their hard work.

And, of course,
congratulations to Zay

and all the Saviors fanatics.

Your support is a huge part
of the team's success.

COMMENTATOR 3: The Saviors have
the MVP of the league...

COMMENTATOR 4: They built
a dynasty around him.

His story is
the story of America.

COMMENTATOR 2:
The question, though, is:

How much does his body
have left to give?

COMMENTATOR 5:
I think, deep down, one more.

COMMENTATOR 2:
He is the undisputed GOAT.

Why are we even having
this conversation?

COMMENTATOR 6:
Walk away on top.

COMMENTATOR 7:
...at 45 years old.

COMMENTATOR 8:
Will Isaiah White come back

for one more year?

COMMENTATOR 6:
Or will he retire?

If he does, who do you think
will replace him?

COMMENTATOR 9: I know
it's sacrilege to say it,

but if you're looking
for the next Isaiah White,

it's Cameron Cade.

♪ ♪

The most naturally gifted
quarterback

- we've seen at his age, period.
- Talent off the charts.

The most dynamic player
I've ever seen.

COMMENTATOR 10: Kid is box
office. He can flat-out ball.

COMMENTATOR 9:
Limitless potential.

A lot of quarterbacks come in
with all this hype,

but a lot of them flame out.

"Put up or shut up" time.

He could be the one
who rewrites

all the record books.

But at this level,

if you don't have
that obsession,

I don't care
how talented you are.

Does he have what it takes to
carry the weight of greatness?

REPORTER: Cam, what's it like
being back in your hometown

after the amazing season
you had on the football field?

I mean, you were a walk-on,

and then you took
that starting position.

That means the ladies

- must be coming for you.
- (camera clicks)

- No, uh... (chuckles)
- (reporter laughing)

- I'm spoken for.
- JASMINE: Very happily.

- YVETTE: Uh... (clicks tongue)
- Make sure you write that down.

- (clears throat)
- She just needed to know.

It's always nice
being back home.

- Home-cooked meals.
- Mm-hmm.

Uh, family's everything to me.

- Mm. he loves it.
- (laughter)

And I'm sure your family's
really proud and excited

to see you perform
in the combine pretty soon.

Are you nervous about that?

More so excited.

Excited for the opportunity
to perform

and just take everything back
to what my pops taught me.

"No guts, no glory."

YVETTE:
Listen, we know his father

is here with us in spirit.

He taught Cam everything
he knows about the game.

Always saying,
"I can already see it now.

"Cam running down the tunnel
with the fire and the smoke,

with the crowd
chanting his name."

Why wasn't I running out
of a tunnel, Yvette?

'Cause you was busy running
your mouth. Now, be quiet.

REPORTER:
Cam, a lot of people are saying

you could be the next
great quarterback.

Now, you put that
with some guidance,

you could be the next GOAT.

Is that the goal?

Well... (sighs)

my dad did tell me

that I could always be
the greatest of all time, so...

God willing... (inhales deeply)

I want to be the GOAT.

♪ ♪

(spits)

(clicks tongue)

COACH CHUCK:
Yo, Cam!

What's up, Coach?

Nice to have you back home.

Hey, lock up when you're done.
I got to bounce.

CAM:
All right, that's a bet.

I appreciate you.

(Cam panting)

(distant siren wailing)

(clanks)

(clanks, post rattling)

(rattling continues)

♪ ♪

(post stops rattling)

(loud thump)

♪ ♪

(post rattling)

DR. BOWERS: It could take
anywhere from weeks to years

for a brain to recover
from a trauma like this.

There's nothing
he can really do but rest.

YVETTE:
Hey.

It's gonna be okay.

You still think we'll be good
for the combine?

YVETTE:
We'll get a second opinion.

It's gonna be okay.

- I promise. Right?
- (mumbles)

It's gonna be all right. Right?

DR. BOWERS: There's risk
in everything we do.

But if he has another
traumatic brain injury

before he's had time to heal,
it could be career-ending.

♪ ♪

As his doctor, I can't tell you

it's safe for him
to play football.

And as a fan?

(crowd cheering)

ANNOUNCER:
Welcome to the USFF

Football Federation Combine,

where we get to see
the next draft class,

along with every GM,
coach and owner.

ANNOUNCER 2:
We're glad to see the potential

number one overall pick

Cameron Cade here
in attendance.

If anyone had any doubts
about whether or not

this attack affected him
in any way,

they've been silenced.

He has one of the brightest
futures in this draft class,

- without a doubt.
- REPORTER: Is it true

that you're pulling out
of the draft?

Yeah, it's true I'm pulling out
of your fucking mom tonight.

ANNOUNCER 2:
I mean, this kid,

you look at him,
he's so talented.

It would be a tragedy
to see his talent go to waste.

Don't-don't get me wrong.

The kid had a great college
career, no doubt about it.

ANNOUNCER 3: I don't want
to jump ahead of myself,

but I got to say it-- we could
be watching the beginning

of the greatest quarterback
to ever play this game.

- I don't need a cut. It's...
- You do, man.

We got to get you right
for the cameras, my boy.

JASMINE: Now, who the fuck
lies about getting attacked?

What the fuck is wrong
with these people, babe?

MURPH: Something always
wrong with them,

but nothing
need to be wrong with us.

Show 'em you him, dawg.

Himzel Washington.
Him Kardashian.

You selling Hims on the side.

Man on Fire--
you've seen the movie.

Show 'em you ain't no bitch, baby.

- What we doing?
- (cell phone dings)

Hey, I got a party tonight.

Pull up to the crib, bro.
We going up.

- You, too, gang.
- I'll be there.

- YVETTE: Hey.
- MURPH: What's up?

TOM: All right. Him Duncan,
Himothée Chalamet.

Got my junkyard dog
in there, huh?

We got my rabies boy? Come on.

Let me hear you go...
(barking like dog)

- Let me hear it.
- (cell phone dings)

All right, we're good.

- We got the press conference
in five. -Hey, Cam?

- TOM: Hey, Jasmine.
- (razor buzzing)

- Like those edges?
- YVETTE: Cam?

JASMINE:
What you know about edges?

- TOM: Oh.
- YVETTE: Cam? Cam, look at me.

Are you sure you're ready
to go do this?

- Bruh.
- (cell phone dinging)

Drew, don't call me "bruh."

DREW: Mom, it's
glorified calisthenics.

All he has to do is throw
the ball the way he do.

- We good. Chill.
- (stammers) Excuse me, Drew,

but his brain is swollen.
He is concussed.

- DREW: He said he was good.
- That is not nothing.

DREW: You really want to
jeopardize the draft over that?

Listen, you know who you
sound like? (snaps fingers)

- You sound like your father.
- (rapid dinging)

- Chill out. Listen. Okay? -We
don't know what we don't know.

What's your mom talking about?

Ah! You sound like
your father right now.

TOM:
He's fine.

He's taken worse hits
on the field.

- (arguing fades)
- (rapid dinging continues)

(razor buzzing loudly)

- Fuck!
- Jesus, what the fuck, man?

- (indistinct arguing)
- (clattering)

CAM:
I'm good!

(panting)

I'm good, okay?

I'm good.

I'm good. I'm good.

(Cam clears throat)

I've taken worse hits
on the field.

It's gonna be okay.

We're gonna take care
of this, okay?

- It'll come back.
- It's just a bump.

- It's just a bump.
- And I know you're...

I'm going to perform. I have to.

- I know you're... -I worked
my whole life for this.

You've seen me push
through everything.

- I'm-I'm good.
- I know.

- I-I swear to God I'm good.
- We all...

- Cam?
- DREW: Are you all right, bruh?

Drew, shut the fuck up!

He's fine. He's taken
worse hits on the field.

- REPORTER: Tom, come on.
- (reporters clamoring)

If he's fine, Tom, then why
won't he just talk to us?

I understand not suiting up,
but...

There's four seasons of tape
on the kid.

He's got nothing to prove
by running the 40 for cameras

like he's some kind
of prize pig at a state fair.

- I mean, what the fuck is this?
- (clamoring)

You represent Isaiah White,

and you just signed
Cameron Cade,

so are the rumors true?

Is White playing
one final season?

Yeah, this is... this is
tinfoil hat shit, okay?

Well, are the
San Antonio Saviors

looking for a successor,

and did Cade just blow
his chance?

Those are great questions.

- (clamoring)
- Tom, come on.

Over here, Tom!

(whistle blows in distance)

(distant, muffled announcements)

(marching band playing
in distance)

(goatlike bleating nearby)

(heavy breathing nearby)

(joints cracking)

(breathing heavily)

("Get Me Lit" by P-Lo playing)

(signing)

(bleats)

- ♪ I can't miss ♪
- (lively chatter)

♪ This my shit,
it get me lit... ♪

MURPH: I'm finna make a toast.
Murph finna make a toast.

Right? First of all,

we going top ten
this motherfucking year!

So I'm finna make a toast
to myself.

'Cause I throw
the best fucking parties!

(cheering)

Oh, now you want to smoke.

Yeah! (laughing)

JASMINE:
You know I love you, right?

Whether you're
in the league or not.

There's more than one way
for you to be great.

Maybe this is
a blessing in disguise.

MURPH:
My boy, Cam.

First of all, sit your big

MyPlayer-created-face-having
ass down

and meet my jeweler.

You looking all sad
and shit, dawg.

Come on, look at these diamonds.

White as the privileged South.

You put 'em on,
credit score go up.

- What we doing, brother?
- Come on, bruh. Come on.

Come on, man. You can get
after it tomorrow, all right?

MURPH: This ice a little loose.
I might put it right here. Ah.

Pops would've said the same...

- Get off me!
- Damn, bro.

MURPH:
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.

- Hey, hey. -You lucky
you having a bad day, man.

♪ This my shit, it get me lit ♪

♪ Uh-oh, oh, yeah ♪

♪ Okay ♪

♪ All I do is gas, propane ♪

♪ Oh, yeah... ♪

DREW:
Bro!

Bro! Bro! Bro!

JASMINE:
Babe! Babe!

- What?
- It's your fucking agent.

(sighs)

Damn.

Running around
this motherfucker.

- Yo, Tom.
- Damn.

Hey, call the ambulance, man.

- JASMINE: What happened?
- MURPH: For what?

- I pulled my hammy.
- Oh, my God.

Nigga, that's why I told you
to calm down.

I wasn't even talking to you.

MURPH: I'm trying to pull a
bitch. You pulling hamstrings.

Yo, Tom, what's up?

TOM (over phone):
There you are. Look.

You can thank me later.
I am the miracle worker.

But I need an answer now
or it's not gonna happen.

Okay? I talked to the Saviors.

I talked to Zay,
the motherfucking GOAT,

and he wants to give you
another shot, bro.

All you got to do
is go down there

and train with him for a week

to show him that you still
motherfucking got it.

Why me?

Look, between you and me,

he's thinking
about hanging it up.

Look, Cam, this is your shot
at getting a deal...

JASMINE: Whoa, nigga.
What the fuck is this?

TOM:
...that will set your family up

for generations type shit,
so come on.

What would...
what would your dad say?

What would your dad say
to you right now?

(sighs)

Cam?

DREW: Oh, he got some
good news. Go ahead.

TOM: What do you want to do?
What do I say?

Do you want to check in
with your mom on this or...

- Nah.
- He got some good news.

- Say it, motherfucker.
- TOM: Cam?

Cam, are you there?

We going to the fucking league!

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

(lively, indistinct chatter)

DRIVER:
It's usually just a few of them,

but now that he might retire...

WOMAN:
I'm here, Isaiah! I love you!

I love you, Isaiah!

(screams)

DRIVER:
There's Marjorie.

We don't want you!

DRIVER:
His fan club's like a cult.

Go home! (spits)

- (Marjorie screaming)
- OFFICER: Move along, Marjorie.

(muffled): Come on, Marjorie.
Back it up. B-Back it up.

- Move on.
- (Marjorie screams)

OFFICER:
B-- Hey! Get back!

What the fuck?

(chuckles nervously)

(bird squawking)

(camera clicking)

(bird continues squawking)

("Strawberry Letter 23" by
Shuggie Otis plays in distance)

(clatters)

Holy shit.

(distant hammering)

Hello?

♪ Flying in her arms ♪

♪ Over the sea... ♪

Jesus fucking Christ.

♪ Yellow candy screen ♪

♪ See speakers of kite ♪

(chuckles)

♪ With velvet roses diggin' ♪

♪ Freedom flight ♪

♪ A present from you ♪

♪ Strawberry letter 22 ♪

- ♪ The music plays ♪
- CAM (softly): Wow.

♪ I sit in for a few ♪

(distant hammering continues)

♪ Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh-ooh ♪

♪ Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh-ooh ♪

- ♪ Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh-ooh ♪
- (hammering continues)

Hello?

♪ Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh-ooh. ♪

Cameron Cade.

Sorry, I, uh, let myself in.

- (music stops)
- Well, welcome.

- You at home, brother.
- (chuckles)

It's a pleasure. Come here, man.

Great meeting you.

- That game against State?
- You saw that?

Got an arm like a cannon.

No fucking way.
(stammers, chuckles)

That's crazy.
I really appreciate it.

That means a lot
coming from you. I...

Hey, man,
just telling the truth.

Welcome home.

Please, uh, excuse the mess.

I like to live off the land
while I'm out here, you know?

You, uh...
you-you kill that yourself?

Do you know why
quarterbacks exist?

Uh, I don't know, uh, win games?

- (chuckles)
- No.

Native American boys
at the Carlisle Indian School

had to play these
big-ass white boys from Yale.

The Indian kids,
they were out-sized.

But they outsmarted 'em.

They created all these trick
plays like the forward pass,

and these white boys,
oh, they didn't like it.

They wanted to make
the game more brutal

to fit their style of play.

And the game got so violent

that kids was dying on the field

and the president had to come in

and make the forward pass legal.

So those little
Carlisle Indian boys,

they go on
to perfect the spiral.

Now they're mascots.

So what I'm saying to you, Cam,

is, nigga,
don't be no mascot, hmm?

- Yes, sir.
- Don't call me "sir," man.

Call me Zay.

Yes, sir. I meant yeah, y-yeah.

- Cell phone.
- Oh, yeah.

(Isaiah whistling)

ISAIAH:
Mm.

Radical detachment.

No cell phones, no phone calls,

no Pornhub, no PornTube,

no OnlyFans, no Grindr,

no sliding into DMs.

(chuckles)

Just football.

I just want you to think
of this like a mini boot camp,

preparing to show out
for the owners of this team.

And most importantly...

("Keep It Warm" by Flo & Eddie
playing)

Oh, shit.

What?

ISAIAH:
Can you hold this?

Okay? Don't be scared.
It's already dead.

Hold that right there. Okay.

Ready? I want you
to smash that down like a...

Real hard.

Get it. Wait, wait, wait.

- And don't forget-- have fun.
- (song slows to a stop)

("Lemonade" by Gucci Mane
playing)

(indistinct chatter)

Welcome to church.

♪ It's Gucci ♪

♪ My Phantom sitting
on sixes... ♪

Don't fuck this up.

MALEK:
Come on, you got to focus.

♪ Because it is a lemon... ♪

That ain't it. Do it again.

♪ More like a lemon... ♪

ISAIAH:
Too much arm.

Use more whip.
Use your whip. One more.

Do it again.

MALEK:
Stay off my boxes.

ISAIAH:
Ah!

- Good.
- CAM: The timing...

Stop looking at your feet.
Eyes downfield.

I'm doing it.

- Old folks. One, two...
- (hands slapping)

Two, two, then we go...

Pump fake, pump fake,
and we gonna slam-dunk.

- Right there.
- Come on.

- Come on. Come on.
- MALEK: Pull that weight.

Don't hurt yourself.

- ISAIAH: Yeah.
- MALEK: Don't hurt yourself.

Yeah, that's a dead man's arm.

Come on, man,
let me get you some weights.

(grunting)

Two!

Almost perfect.

CAM:
That was cool?

Get to the pros,
people are faster than college.

Keep a rhythm in your head.
Pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa.

- MALEK: Good job.
- ISAIAH: Plant your foot.

You mad.

- There you go.
- Fuck!

- ♪ Gucci ♪
- ♪ Lemon on the chain ♪

♪ With the V-cuts ♪

- ♪ Yeah ♪
- ♪ Lemon on the chain ♪

- ♪ With the V-cuts ♪
- ♪ Brr ♪

♪ Lemonade and shade
with my feet up ♪

- ♪ What? ♪
- ♪ Lemonade and shade ♪

- ♪ With my feet up ♪
- (Isaiah and Cam yelling)

- ♪ Wow ♪
- ♪ Lemon pepper wings ♪

♪ And a freeze cup ♪

- (both laughing)
- ♪ It's Gucci. ♪

(song ends)

- (laughing)
- You know what I'm saying.

ISAIAH:
This ain't day camp, boy.

- (groans) Shit.
- There you go.

Goddamn, do you stretch at all?

(chuckling)

CAM:
Sometimes.

We good?

All right, fuck you, too, then.

That ice bath calling my name.

ISAIAH: You're gonna need one,
you keep fucking with Malek.

- (Cam chuckles)
- And this is just the baseline.

You missed the combine.

The owners ain't gonna purchase
no damaged goods.

- Okay.
- This is my man Marco. Marco!

Sports medicine doctor.

Been with me since day one.

You need a realignment,
painkillers,

Toradol shot,
a goddamn hand job,

that's your man,
best in the world.

I know. Nice to meet you, sir.

Skull line fracture
with blunt force trauma.

Anything else
we should know about?

Uh, n-no,
not that I can think of.

- (joints cracking)
- Oh.

Oh, shit. Okay.

MARCO:
Clothes off.

(laughs)

You heard the man.
Drop your drawers.

It's a physical, man.

Wh-What, you got a baby dick
or something?

Marco, what you got
for baby dick?

- Nothing. Couldn't fix mine.
- (Isaiah chuckles)

♪ ♪

(pulls shorts down)

(scale rattling)

MARCO:
Six-five, 210.

- Oh, that's a big yellow nigga.
- (smacks)

MARCO:
Arms up.

84-and-a-quarter-inch wingspan.

10.2-inch hand size.

- So, how's the family?
- MARCO: 15-inch biceps.

ISAIAH:
Your mom must be proud, huh?

CAM:
Yeah.

My dad damn near worshipped you
growing up.

Made me watch that clip
of your injury all the time.

He wanted to show me
what a real man looked like.

ISAIAH:
Sounds like a fun childhood.

Similar to mine.

Mine was actually worse.

Maybe that's why
I'm so damn good at my job.

TRAINER 1: Eardrums look good.
No fluid in the ears.

TRAINER 2:
Lymph nodes are normal.

TRAINER 1: Resting heart rate
is strong. 40 BPM...

So, how'd you get back
on the field?

Shit. I damn near killed myself.

TRAINER 2: Several freckles,
but no melanoma.

Rehabbing.

As a Black quarterback,

I had to be great
just to be good.

Imagine what I had to do
to be the greatest of all time.

You know,
when you love something,

it's easy to make
sacrifices for it.

So, what gets you on the field?

CAM:
Definitely my family.

They sacrificed a lot for me.

ISAIAH:
All right.

I want you to remember that
when you can't push no further.

See...

that's only gonna take you
but so far.

Family.

MARCO:
Physical examination complete.

We do what we do
and we make the money we make

so we can take care
of our family.

Right?

But if you want
to transcend the game,

then you gonna have to find
something more

than external motivation.

You have to dig deep,
deep inside of you.

Also, put some clothes on.

I thought you were only gonna
go down to your underwear.

This is... this is...
it's been very awkward for me.

ISAIAH:
Yeah. It's weird, bro.

Completely weird.

Get dressed, please.

♪ ♪

Hey. Anybody got eyes
on my drawers?

Pop this jade egg in your pussy
to maximize your orgasm,

because pleasure is an act
of radical self-love.

Um, what else? What else?

TAYLOR (whispering):
The endometriosis.

- What?
- The endometriosis. The dollar.

Oh. And one dollar per order

will be donated
to my endometriosis foundation.

- And...
- (gasps)

- Cameron Cade?
- CAM: Hey, Mrs. White.

- Uh...
- Oh, my God.

Please, call me Elsie.

It is so nice
to meet you finally.

You have no idea
how happy I am to see you.

And I'm just so happy
that you're here.

You know, it's like...
it's been a difficult time

with the R-word-- retirement.

- Right.
- It's, like, passing the baton

and, you know, transitions
of power are never peaceful.

- It's like, more money,
more problems, right? -Mm-hmm.

Who said that, Biggie?
I don't know. Anyway,

just take it easy on him,
have fun,

and I will see you
when I'm back from my trip.

- Absolutely.
- It was nice to meet you, cutie.

- Nice meeting you, as well.
- Oh, my God, I totally forgot.

We make them for men now.

Put it in your butthole, Cam.

Anyway, have so much fun.

Come on, Taylor! Let's go.

♪ ♪

- I'm a really big fan.
- ELSIE: Taylor!

Oh, shit. Thank you.

All this foreign-ass fruit.
(chuckles)

MARCO:
Lychee. It's very common.

Whoa. What the fuck is that?

ISAIAH: My blood oxygen
is good right now.

The higher the count...

the more I can push my body.

Especially endurance.

I like to save this blood
for rainy days.

You know, if I'm, like,
hungover or tired

and I want to train extra hard.

Autotransfusion.

Is that, like,
I don't know, legal?

You want a hit?

Uh, no, no, I'm...
(chuckles) I'm good.

MARCO:
Father Time is undefeated,

but here, we give him
a good run for his money.

(Cam groans)

ISAIAH:
Yeah.

You done fucked around
and found out, didn't you?

Hey. Good work out there, champ.

Appreciate it.

I'm gonna go study some film.

Marco, take care of this man.

Get him a rubber duckie
for his ice bath or something.

MARCO:
In ancient Rome,

gladiators swore an oath
to their trainers

to endure being burnt, beaten,
killed with a sword.

It's funny, isn't it?

That, uh, primal urge.

American football is just
the newest iteration.

CAM:
Whoa, whoa.

MARCO:
Helps with the pain.

(burbling)

- (groans softly)
- You'll thank me later.

Many religions would consider
his blood holy.

(electricity powering down)

(exhales slowly)

(inhales deeply)

(neck cracking)

MALEK:
Cock-a-doodle-do!

Wake your bitch ass up, boy!

("Shook Ones, Pt. II"
by Mobb Deep playing)

This ain't peewee, nigga!

Move your ass!

Pressure is a privilege!

♪ Scared to death,
scared to look, they shook ♪

♪ 'Cause ain't no such things
as halfway crooks ♪

♪ Livin' the life
that of diamonds and guns ♪

♪ There's numerous ways
you can choose to earn funds ♪

♪ So some get shot,
locked down ♪

♪ And turn nuns,
cowardly hearts... ♪

ISAIAH:
Baby, let's get it. Come on.

Come on. Come on.

♪ He ain't a crook, son ♪

♪ He's just a shook one. ♪

(panting)

(coughing)

(song fades)

(retching)

(insects buzzing)

(short, gasping breaths)

(footsteps approaching)

(footsteps continue)

(sharp, rapid breathing)

(muffled):
No guts, no glory.

(normal volume):
You good? You all right?

All right, all right, here.

Breathe. Breathe.

Slow your heart rate.

One, two, three, four.
There you go.

You good?

All right. You cramping?

Right here?

Here. Drink that.

("Swim" by Guapdad 4000 playing)

Help is on the way.

♪ You're always down,
I'm the real OG ♪

♪ I'm-a always have hos OD ♪

♪ I'm-a always have
a game OD... ♪

ISAIAH:
Recovery.

It's the key to longevity.

Sometimes you got to...
(chuckles)

slow down to speed up.

Thank you.

(Isaiah sighs)

ISAIAH:
Let me ask you.

Would you rather run
a 1.4 ten or a 4.4 40?

1.4 ten.

It's all about the burst.

You know, 1.4 ten
is football fast.

4.4 40, that's just
style points.

All right.

Would you rather have
the ability

to never get tired
or never get injured?

(sighs) Shit.

Think about how many
almost-greats

we lost to injury.

Hell yeah, if I could
never get injured...

All right, so what if you...

can avoid getting injured?

Wh-Who are they?

ISAIAH:
Who, them?

Oh, they're just
a bunch of free agents

with nothing to lose.

We're just gonna play
a little catch.

Matter of fact,
we gonna play, man.

You sit this one out.
You tired and all.

You still recovering.

All right. (smacks lips)

See you later.

Hey, yo!

Let's get this.

You brought too many
shirtless niggas, man.

MARCO: I told you
you'd thank me later.

("Italy" by Maglera Doe Boy
& ONDELIVE playing)

(burbling)

Mate...

(whispering):
it's gonna be a long week.

♪ I was just by
the local bodega... ♪

(song continues
with lyrics in Sotho)

- ISAIAH: Eyes closed.
- (exhales sharply)

Set, hut!

♪ You know how I'm styling ♪

♪ Pretty nigga like Vega,
I'm violent... ♪

ISAIAH:
Set, hut!

♪ I'm stylish,
I don't need a stylist. ♪

- (player catches ball)
- ISAIAH: A'ight.

Same drill,
but we gonna switch it up.

I'm gonna need
a little volunteer.

- CED: Mr. White...
- (song fades)

I got you.

ISAIAH:
My man.

The balls on this kid. Let's go!

Two seconds on the clock.

You on the clock.

♪ ♪

(machine whirring)

(clicking)

ISAIAH:
You're never gonna have to worry

about your blind side
ever again.

Eyes closed.

(breathing deeply)

Set, hut!

♪ ♪

A'ight, little boy waking up.

Come on, plant that back foot.

Set, hut!

Let's go! Hit 'em!

Set, hut!

(groans)

Mm.

Too slow.

(leather creaking)

Shh.

(grunting unsteadily)

What the fuck?

- Set, hut!
- What? What? Wait.

(groans)

See, you think this is a game.

Hey, Malek,
he thinks it's a game!

(spits)

- (groans)
- What the fuck is going on?

What are we doing?

No. Hold on, I'm...
I'm confused.

Come on, man, look at that.

Look, Ced's counting on you.

(groaning)

(straining):
Oh, shit.

(stammers)

(under breath):
Goddamn.

Set, hut!

- Come on. That's one.
- Come on, lock in. Let's go.

- Tighten up. Focus. Come on.
- Three completions, and we out.

Set, hut!

- (grunts)
- CAM: Hey, yo!

- (groans) -Come on,
get your head in the game!

- Let's go!
- Crank that bitch.

CAM:
My mans is dying over here.

- Crank that bitch.
- CAM: Goddamn.

I got a cousin in Pop Warner
that catch better than that.

- WILLIS: You not Zay.
- CAM: What are you doing?

- Come on! Let's go!
- WILLIS: You're not shit.

CAM: My man's fucking dying
over here.

Give me some receivers
that can catch.

(Ced groans)

Set, hut!

(grunting)

ISAIAH:
Come on, Cam!

Think, bro, think!

CAM: All right, come on,
let's lock in.

Let's lock in. Come on.

My mans is dying over here.
Let's go!

- Act like you want to be here.
- (laughs) Yeah.

Don't want to play football,
get the fuck out of here.

- Let's go!
- You're not a good teammate.

- (Isaiah laughing)
- CAM: Come on, get it!

CAM: Yeah, I'm doing my job,
so you do your job, all right?

All right, I need
better catches! Let's go!

You're supposed to be
professionals! Come on.

Come on and get your head
in the game.

WILLIS:
You a bitch.

- CAM: Oh, I'm a bitch?
- WILLIS: You a bitch.

- I'm a bitch?
- Your daddy's a bitch.

- I'll make you my bitch.
- Well, your daddy was a bitch.

ISAIAH:
Hey, hey, hey.

(sighs)

Come on.

You shouldn't talk like that
on the field.

All right?

Listen.

(sighs) You a QB.

All the fucking blame
goes on your fucking shoulders!

All the glory, all the defeat--

it's all on you to hold.

So please...

get your fucking shit together!

Boop.

We're all right. He's ready.

(breathing deeply)

♪ ♪

Set, hut!

- (breathing heavily)
- (slow clapping)

- Hey, you good? Stay down.
- (Ced groaning)

You good, playboy?

Let me see.

Oh, shit.

Hey, let's get Marco.

Let's get him some help.

- (groans unsteadily)
- CAM: Oh.

Come on, you good?

(laughter)

Did we get you?

Yeah. I mean...

(snickering)

Way to throw out there, Zay.
It was an honor.

(laughter)

Good job out there.

Thank you for the opportunity,
Mr. White.

Yeah.

You got fucked up.

(laughing)

Fuck you laughing at?

A'ight.

Lunchtime.

Let's go, guys.
Good job. Good job.

"Saviors" on three!

- One, two, three!
- OTHERS: Saviors!

MARCO:
You think that's bad?

It's nothing.

Isaiah got hit so hard once
in a helmet-to-helmet hit

that it caused a fracturing
of the skull,

just behind his face,

causing internal bleeding
to exit out his tear ducts.

It turns out that human skulls

aren't designed
to smash into each other.

- (Cam laughs softly)
- (chuckles) True.

After I staple your shit
together, gonna need you to sit

in a hyperbaric chamber
for a couple of hours.

- It's medicine for the brain.
- (stapler clicks)

ISAIAH:
You up, kid.

(Cam sighs)

CAM:
You, uh,

think what's-his-name's
gonna be okay?

ISAIAH: No. If you refer to him
as "what's-his-name,"

do we really give a fuck?

(both chuckling)

It's a casualty of war, man.

Think about it like this.

(air hissing)

(over speaker):
You know the saying,

"God, family, football"?

For me...

it's "football, family, God."

♪ ♪

- Now, hey.
- (knocking on glass)

Try to relax.

All right?

Enjoy.

(Isaiah whistling)

(cell phone dings, beeps)

YVETTE:
Hey, Cam, it's Mom.

Just checking in
to see how it's going.

I've been trying to call you,

but I'm sure you're busy
over there.

I hope everything
is going well

and you're taking
good care of yourself.

- (thumping)
- CAM (muffled): Hey!

YVETTE: And remember
the doctor said try not to hit

your head again.

- (muffled): Hey!
- YVETTE: Don't feel pressure

to do anything
that could risk your future.

- And don't forget...
- (indistinct, muffled shouting)

I love you.

Cock-a-doodle-do!

Get your bitch ass up!

We back at it
like a crack addict!

Every day, I'm on your ass
like white on rice!

You ain't shit, kid!

You can't lead no team!

♪ ♪

- (burbling)
- (joints cracking)

Whoo!

ISAIAH:
Get that ball high and tight.

This is light work, fellas.

Rip through, rip through,
rip through!

High and tight!

(grunting)

(groaning)

- Yeah, you soft, boy.
- What the fuck was that?

I thought we was going light!

ISAIAH: Come on, bro,
this is the big leagues.

(sighs) Man, run it again.

You got me in this
linebacker-ass helmet.

Reset!

ISAIAH:
You ladies set?

(grunting)

(players groaning, laughing)

(high-pitched ringing)

(crackling)

ISAIAH (muffled):
The game rewards violence.

Get used to it.

Nigga, you ain't no killer.

Your scouting report said
you was a bitch.

I see you, nigga.
You ain't nothing.

You ain't nothing but
an emotional little pretty boy

chasing validation
from strangers

'cause your father
didn't love you.

This ain't no fucking game!

(Cam breathing heavily)

This ain't a fucking game, man.

This is... this is everything.

You are not your father.

(breath trembling)

- Does Cameron Cade...
- (patting shoulder)

want this?

Yes, I fucking want this!

Then what are you willing
to sacrifice?!

Everything!

(both breathing heavily)

♪ ♪

Then show me.

Set, hut!

♪ ♪

Yo! Yo!

Come on! Oh! (chuckles)

Now we playing
some fucking football, bitch!

(grunting)

(deep, distorted roar)

♪ ♪

Whoa! Whoa!

- (grunting weakly)
- I told y'all boys stop...

y'all boys stop playing with me!

Dead body alert!
Dead body alert!

Come get your dead homey up.

(spits)

I don't start shit, Zay.
I just finish it.

(short, gasping breaths)

(players murmuring)

(Willis groaning, gasping)

♪ ♪

I just...

I just got lost.

(breathing heavily)

MALEK:
Oh, shit.

There he is.

We're fucking proud of you.

(patting shoulder)

We're fucking proud of you.

ISAIAH:
♪ All the Saviors say ♪

ALL:
♪ Amen ♪

ISAIAH:
♪ All the Saviors say ♪

ALL:
♪ Amen ♪

- ♪ All the Saviors say ♪
- ♪ Amen ♪

♪ Amen, amen ♪

♪ All the Saviors say ♪

♪ Amen ♪

♪ All the Saviors say ♪

(fading):
♪ Amen. ♪

♪ ♪

(muffled): All right!
"Saviors" on me on three!

- One, two, three!
- OTHERS: Saviors!

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

- (ball bounces loudly)
- (gasps)

(faint clicking)

(faint whirring)

(whirring continues)

(cameras clicking
and whirring loudly)

(clicking and whirring stop)

♪ ♪

(laughter)

- (laughter stops)
- (breathing heavily)

CAM:
Are y'all out or something?

I can barely hear you.

DREW (over phone):
Nah, man. We at the house.

Everybody here.
It's Mom's birthday, remember?

CAM:
Oh, shit.

DREW: What you mean
you're not doing well?

- What the fuck is that about?
- I don't know. I just...

You know, I keep seeing shit.

I don't really know what to do.

A'ight. I'm here for you, man.
I'm here for you. Look.

- Rub your temples,
- (thunder rumbling)

and then scream
as loud as you can, man.

That's gonna activate
your vagal nerve,

and then it's gonna calm your
parasympathetic nervous system.

- Drew, I'm serious.
- Cut that shit out, man.

- It's all in your head.
- YVETTE: Give me the phone!

- DREW: Here go Mom, man.
- YVETTE: My baby!

Hey, Mama. Happy birthday.

Why haven't you been
answering the phone?

Oh, they took my phone.

- They didn't tell you?
- Huh?

(thunder rumbling)

YVETTE:
Wish you were here.

(scoffs) Remember what
your dad used to say.

Okay? You only have
a few days left.

We are all praying
for you, baby.

- Hey!
- YVETTE: All praying for you.

I love you so much.

Sorry, it's my mom's birthday.

I, uh...

Do you have, uh,
anything for headaches?

My... my head's killing me.

(bag rustling)

Of course you're fucked, mate.

It takes blood to grow a king.

Fuck this training shit.

(sighs)

I got into this business
to help heal people.

(laughing)

But...

...the more gladiators
you send to the pit...

Never kill yourself for a job.

I'm killing myself for this job.

I...

I-I can't see my family,
and I-I... I never see my kids.

- Damn. How many kids you got?
- I don't.

I don't have any kids.
I'm just saying,

i-if I had kids,
I couldn't see them.

I don't know. Whatever.

(rain pattering)

It's a shame you're so talented.

And how well I've prepared you.

Prepared me for what?

♪ ♪

(Marco sighs)

When two men enter
the Colosseum,

only one leaves.

(thunder rumbling)

CAM:
I got a question.

What's it like being the GOAT?

ISAIAH: I used to think
it was a blessing.

And now...

I realize, what's the use
of having it?

One day,
you have to give it all up.

I keep having this
reoccurring nightmare.

It's me alone,

sitting on
a fucking dirty couch.

I'm watching the TV.

And I'm watching
somebody else do...

...what I'm so damn good at.

I'll miss it.

I'll miss the game.

I'll miss the camaraderie.

I'll miss the locker rooms.

The smell of the locker rooms.

- (Cam scoffs)
- (Isaiah laughing)

Fuck that.

It just smell like
brotherhood, man.

I'm gonna miss the...

the running through
the darkness of the tunnel

to the light of the field.

I'll miss the...

the cheering of the fans,
them chanting my name.

I'll miss the spattered boos
from the haters.

'Cause I know it's just minutes
before I'll fuck up they week.

(both laughing)

I had a lot of losses in life.

Lot of people come in my life
or out my life.

The only thing consistent
has been football.

I never had a family
till I had football.

Yeah, I get it.

Family means everything to me.

I don't know, I just...
just can't wait to be a dad.

Have three little dickheads
running around the house.

(chuckles)

Think that's what it's about.

It's cute, your little...

Half-rican American family.

(both laughing)

Did you say
"Half-rican American"?

(laughing):
"Half-rican."

You've just been cooking that
since I got here, huh?

You're a good dude, Cam.

Do me a favor.

Find your own way to greatness.

Don't be me.

Be better.

What do you mean?

(takes deep breath)

You're starving to death
in a prison.

Somebody asks you,
"Food or freedom?"

Do you really have a choice?

(Isaiah sighs)

I'm gonna go watch some tape.

(steam hissing)

(takes deep breath)

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

(screams, grunts)

We don't want you!

(Marjorie grunting, screaming)

(Marjorie gasping)

(straining)

(choking)

(panting)

♪ ♪

CAM:
Zay?

(Marjorie screams)

(grunts)

Oh, fuck me.

(rock drops to floor)

(gasping breaths)

(kissing)

(yelps)

- No, Mommy!
- Oh, no! Oh, no!

(frantic chatter, sobbing)

(laughing):
Oh, shit!

Did you see that shit?

(laughing)

(Isaiah clapping)

Yes!

When you a god,
there is no peace.

(sobbing continues inside sauna)

Do you see that shit?

The fucking dedication?
(claps hands)

She wanted to win.

That's what it takes.

That's how you fucking win.

(wailing sobs inside sauna)

He died for us,

so I play for him.

You can go.

I'm just gonna stay here
and clean up this mess.

I owe it to the fans.

♪ ♪

I know it got a little crazy,
but, like,

in our world,
this is a regular Tuesday.

(chuckles softly)

You're not thinking
about leaving us, are you?

I can see how for, like,

a normal person,
this would be off-putting.

He didn't scare you too much,
did he?

(laughing):
Oh, absolutely not.

Think he's starting
to get jealous.

But you didn't hear it from me.

Do you want to come with me
and the girls by the pool,

have a drink, say our goodbyes?

(women laughing,
chatting quietly)

♪ ♪

WOMAN: Are you sure
you don't want to come?

(chuckles)

(cell phone dings)

YVETTE: I know you're
your own man now,

and, um, you know, I-I really
had to take on a-a lot

when your daddy passed, but...

You know, anyway, anyway,

I hope everything
is going well

and you're taking good care
of yourself.

Eat well, stay hydrated
and get lots of rest, okay?

'Cause everybody in
my church group is taking bets

on where you're
going to get drafted.

(laughs) We are all
praying for you, baby.

Now, call me back
when you get this.

♪ ♪

(birds chirping)

(groans softly)

Oh, fuck.

(sighs)

- Did you fuck her?
- (gun clicks)

ISAIAH:
Hmm?

- Come on.
- (softly): Nah.

You fuck her?

(sighs)

I got a girl.

Oh, you got a girl?

(laughs) Look at you.

Look at your face, man.

(laughs)

You getting nauseous
on the mere fact

of you cheating
on your little college girl.

- We met in, uh, high school.
- Oh.

(laughs) That's right, you
niggas is going steady, right?

(Isaiah laughs)

Those are good times, man.

They be sucking on my dick
just like... (spits)

(makes exaggerated
sucking and gagging sounds)

- (laughing)
- (Cam chuckles softly)

I can't believe your stupid ass
fell for that shit.

Oh, my bad, nigga.

Sometimes I can just be
a little, uh...

...intense.

You know,
I'm gonna say this to you,

and I'm gonna say this shit
with complete sincerity.

'Cause I fucking love you.

♪ ♪

If you are too afraid

to hurt your girl's feelings,

then there ain't a chance
in fucking hell

that you could be
the face of this franchise.

'Cause real killers
don't give a fuck.

We don't give a fuck
whose feelings we hurt.

- You understand me?
- (breathing deeply)

(sighs)

Fuck all this football.

Let's just...
let's just kick it like bros.

Me and you, right?

Yeah?

- Yeah.
- My man.

(gunfire)

ISAIAH:
Whoo!

Next!

You good?

Seem off today.

Yeah, I'm just... (chuckles)

thinking about the lady
I almost killed last night.

Weird bitch.

(gun fires)

(bird calling)

What lady?

- You know, the lady.
- (gun clicking)

I don't know what lady
you talking about.

(grunting)

We don't have no more to shoot?

No!

ISAIAH:
All right. Bounce, nigga.

(grunts)

Oh, yeah.

That lady.

Your turn.

(Isaiah grunts)

Whew.

Little heavy.

Just pull it back,
pull it forward.

♪ ♪

- (shouts)
- (gun fires)

(Isaiah laughing)

Aw. Poor baby missed.

(groans)

How about a little wager?

You hit it, I'll give
your broke ass anything.

- A house and the cars...
- Ooh.

...the women, the lifestyle.

Now, you lose...

I'm-a take your youth.

(laughs) Nah.

I like to earn my shit.
No handouts.

How about this?

If I miss...

I just might let you keep
QB1 next year.

(gun fires)

("Aight?" by Carl Angelo
& Leslie Damaso playing)

(song begins with spoken word
in Filipino)

♪ Don't swim with the sharks
if you not one ♪

♪ '98 Lauryn Hill said
I'm a lost one ♪

♪ '91 Ateh Ruby, lost sun,
but I know that she know ♪

♪ That we don't know
where we come from ♪

♪ See the Pacific
on my baby girl's skin ♪

♪ Constant reminder
where I been tryin' to been ♪

♪ Shot raps in a trash can bin ♪

♪ As a little kid, they all
took away my confidence ♪

- ♪ Got it back ♪
- (grunting)

♪ Lord, why you never
come save me? ♪

♪ Reason I never pray
to you no more ♪

♪ Y'all probably think
that I'm crazy ♪

♪ Can you blame me?
I don't wanna be prey no more ♪

(song continues with
spoken word in Filipino)

(song distorts,
then slows to a stop)

♪ ♪

(crackling)

COMMENTATOR 1:
Does Cade have that grit?

- Not impressed by him.
- COMMENTATOR 2: Top five?

COMMENTATOR 3: Damaged goods
isn't worth the risk.

And that's just not enough.

COMMENTATOR 1:
You can be gifted.

We don't know if Cade
has that gear.

COMMENTATOR 3:
Hard to invest in an unknown.

COMMENTATOR 2: Does he have
the mental toughness?

COMMENTATOR 1:
The killer instinct--

(distorted):
that is the real question.

- ♪ Swaggyono, what up, bro? ♪
- ("Tip Toe" by Tierra Whack)

♪ Yeah, tiptoe, tiptoe, yeah ♪

♪ Ball like disco, yeah... ♪

CAM: What is this?
We're not training today?

ISAIAH:
This is training.

Better get used to it,
franchise boy.

- Hi.
- Hey. How's it going?

(gasps) He literally
looks like your child.

It's honestly kind of creepy
but also kind of hot.

Um, who do you belong to?

♪ The pressure is on
when I'm in the room ♪

♪ Hotter than June ♪

♪ Whacky done blew
like balloons ♪

♪ Money get blue like lagoon,
I aim for the stars ♪

♪ And shot to the moon ♪

♪ Been on my shit
just like prunes ♪

♪ Straight from the womb
to my tomb ♪

♪ Bitch, I'm back
like a couple that spoons ♪

- ♪ Tiptoe, tiptoe, yeah ♪
- (indistinct chatter)

♪ Tiptoe, tiptoe,
tiptoe, tiptoe... ♪

ISAIAH:
The old tribes made men

by dragging boys
into the wild.

Physically,
I still feel capable.

Beat them, cut them,
feed 'em roots

and smoke and blood
until visions came.

And that blood they were fed

was that of
their fiercest warrior,

so their spirit
could be passed on

to that boy who survived.

(neck cracking)

Left a kid, returned a king.

You know, 5:00 a.m. workouts
since I can remember.

(muffled):
...anything for you!

Eat, sleep, football.
Eat, sleep, football.

That was the routine,
and at that age,

- I just...
- (muffled): You'll be the best.

I wanted to be a kid.

ISAIAH:
See, football's no different.

Only now,
the boys aren't dragged--

they're drafted--
and the gods sit in skyboxes.

See, greatness takes more
than talent and hard work.

It's about surviving the death
of who you used to be.

CREW MEMBER: All right, guys,
let's get some B-roll

of, uh, Cam and Isaiah.

I remember the last
conversation we had together.

Told me he was proud of me.

And then I told him
I was done with football.

(thunder rumbling)

I let him down.

(breathing shakily)

I let him down.

I let him down.

(sobbing):
I let him down.

I let him down.

A few months later, he died.

He died.

The field was my safe place,

and as long as I was playing,

it wasn't real.

As long as I was playing,
it wasn't real.

That's how I coped.

Feel like he died for us.

So I continue playing...

So I continue playing for him.

("Cut Up" by Ovrkast. playing)

♪ What's the business? ♪

♪ What's up? ♪

♪ Hunnid thou on me,
I might cut up... ♪

I saw your little speech.

I know how you feel.

And I know that you want
to make your dad proud.

But you can't kill yourself
for him.

This is a huge sacrifice,

and it's not really worth it
if your heart's not in it.

So...

are you sure
you want to do this?

I've never been more certain
of anything in my life.

Okay.

Well, that settles that.

And I think we should celebrate.

There's actually gonna be
a party tonight.

No, ma'am.

Get some more reps in.

Listen.

I wasn't supposed
to tell you this, but...

a little birdie told me

that they want
to make you an offer.

The same one they gave him
20 years ago.

But, you know,
they'd have to meet you first,

see if they like you,

see if you fit in to
the Saviors culture, obviously.

But I don't know,
if I were you, I'd go.

I mean, you could've just
started with that one.

(chuckles)

ELSIE:
Babe, you're coming?

Nah, I'm gonna stay back
and watch some tape.

You kids have fun.

♪ ♪

CAM: Thought you said
it was a party.

Well, you know,
they like their privacy.

When you get to a certain level,
anonymity is paramount.

- Yeah. That's true.
- Let's put it that way.

And also, like, with all
the fucking weird rituals

and shit they do, trust me,

they don't need anybody
knowing who they are.

- PEG: Evening, Elsie.
- Hey, Peg.

Oh, my God,
I love this new hair.

Wow.

Okay, so just so you know,
the bald guy is the owner.

- Yeah.
- His kid, you'll see him.

He's so fucking annoying--
the fat, pudgy kid.

- (Cam chuckles)
- Just humor him, though,

because one day,
all this will be his, you know?

- Good old nepotism.
- Yep.

- Never fails.
- Always.

But anyway,
just be yourself, be cute,

and remember, you're doing this
for the culture.

CAM: And what did you mean
by "rituals"?

ELSIE: Oh, you know,
just rich guy stuff.

All right, here we are.

♪ Bitch, I'm tryin'
to be the GOAT ♪

♪ I ain't really tryin'
to hear it ♪

♪ If it's smoke that they want ♪

♪ I'm-a beat 'em
with the belt... ♪

Carpaccio. So good.

MARCO:
Prodigal son.

- Marco. What's going on?
- (Marco chuckling)

"I thirst," he said.

After taking a sip of wine,
he said, "It is finished."

Jesus said that.

Wow. Okay.

(whispers):
Run.

All righty.

- Hey, there he is!
- CAM: Hey, Tom!

TOM:
What did I fucking tell you?

(both barking)

What's up?

Look at you.
You look fucking great, man.

- CAM: Oh, gentlemen.
- TOM: Here they are.

Let me introduce you
to the owner of the Saviors.

OWNER:
Good to meet you, son.

TOM:
All right, this is it.

Look at that smile.

That's the cover of fucking
Sports Illustrated right there.

(laughter)

Now I got a question.

(echoing): Are you ready
to take the next step?

♪ ♪

Here's to you.

♪ ♪

(gasps)

(taking deep breaths)

(grunting)

(Isaiah grunting with effort)

(laughter)

- (yelling)
- ("Blitz" by Jean Dawson plays)

♪ Bright light, reach for it ♪

♪ Give me what you got ♪

♪ No sleep, bleed for it ♪

♪ I just need a lot ♪

♪ Guts to glory,
glory be the purgatory ♪

♪ I can hear
the whispers in the dark ♪

♪ I'm throwing Hail Marys
like I'm living half buried ♪

♪ I can see the hands
up in the sky ♪

♪ Bright light, reach for it ♪

♪ Give me what you got ♪

♪ No sleep, bleed for it ♪

♪ I just need a lot ♪

♪ Don't speak ♪

- (grunting, retching)
- ♪ Don't breathe ♪

♪ You might just have to die ♪

♪ You might just
have to die ♪

♪ If this is what you want. ♪

(coughs)

(muffled yelling)

(retching)

There you are.

Are you sure you're okay?

(coughing)

♪ ♪

(song ends)

♪ ♪

(breathing heavily)

(breathing sharply)

(grunts)

(grunts)

(breathing heavily)

(grunting)

(thud)

(grunting)

(breathing heavily)

(straining)

(objects clattering on floor)

(coughs)

(burbling)

♪ ♪

(breathing heavily)

(scraping)

(joints cracking)

♪ ♪

(crowd cheering over speaker)

ISAIAH:
Someone's up early.

Just watching some tape.

(cheering continues
over speaker)

ISAIAH:
Isn't that powerful?

(chuckles softly)

(shuddering breath)

(grunting)

(statue drops to floor)

(bangs shut)

ISAIAH:
Where you going?

I thought you said
you was willing

to sacrifice everything.

So you've been
giving me your blood

on some weird white people shit?

(laughs)

See, I knew you wouldn't want
to fuck with it.

I knew it.

Well, actually, his blood.

The one before me.

My mentor.

As it was his mentor's
before that.

Just think of it as a

(distorted):
gift from the gods.

(crowd cheering faintly
over speaker)

(whispers):
It's the good shit.

Fuck does that mean?

You don't feel that shit?

You don't feel
that fucking beast

burning inside you now?

Man, they say
this shit's been around

since the beginning
of the league.

Whoever has it
is the chosen one.

The one to bring
the salvation to the people.

(crowd cheers over speaker)

Whoever has it...

(chuckles softly)
...is the GOAT.

So there can only be one?

Bingo.

See, I...

I've been telling you the truth.

My contract is up
at the end of this year.

Which means the Saviors need
a quarterback:

you or me.

And see, now... (chuckles)

that we share his blood,
it's a fair contest.

A'ight.

So what's the play?

What's this contest?

It's very simple.

One man wants to walk
out that tunnel...

...and the other man
wants to stop him.

Now, if you want to be
the fucking GOAT,

you gonna have to take it
from me.

- You didn't earn this shit.
- (Isaiah laughs)

You cheated.
I worked for this shit.

You ain't shit.

You ain't shit.

It's time for me to show you
exactly who the fuck I am.

♪ ♪

Football.

Family!

God!

I am him!

I am football!

(chuckling)

(grunts)

Cute.

(fierce grunting)

(laughs)

(laughing):
Oh!

(muffled yelling)

(squelching)

(muffled yelling continues)

(grunting, panting)

(yells)

- (bone cracks)
- (Cam screaming)

(bone cracks)

♪ ♪

(laughs)

(strains, yells)

(breathing heavily)

You know what's the opposite
of a Savior?

A killer.

Wrong.

♪ ♪

A mascot.

(crowd cheering over speaker)

(rumbling)

♪ ♪

(muffled yelling)

(crowd cheering over speaker)

♪ ♪

(crowd cheering over speaker)

GROUP (reciting):
In full glory reflected

now shines on the stream:

'Tis the star-spangled banner,

- O long may it wave
- (cheering fades)

O'er the land of the free

and the home of the brave.

And where is that band

who so vauntingly swore

That the havoc of war

and the battle's confusion,

A home and a country,

should leave us no more?

Their blood has washed out

their foul footsteps' pollution.

No refuge could save

the hireling and slave

From the terror of flight,

or the gloom of the grave:

And the star-spangled banner

in triumph doth wave,

O'er the land of the free

and the home of the brave.

♪ ♪

Now, sign the contract
to receive the gifts.

Please step forward.

(scoffs)

Sign the contract.

What the fuck, Tom?

TOM:
I got it. Hold on. I'm on it.

(chuckles)

Cam, this is a...
it's a blessing, right?

Your dad sacrificed
everything for you.

All the deals and coaches.

You're a living legend, man.

You beat the motherfucking GOAT.

It was because of him.

Make your father proud.

Sign the contract.

It's what he would've wanted.

(chuckling)

Remember what your dad always
said: "No guts, no glory."

(laughing)

TOM (chuckling):
Cam.

You good?

Need a glass of water
or energy drink or something?

(metal drags on ground)

(sighs)

(sighs)

- Jesus Christ.
- TOM: Look.

Just sign it
and we'll all go home, okay?

Fuck you.

Fuck your dumbass eyebrows.

(chuckling):
Oh, no.

- Fuck your old white ass, too.
- TOM: Hey!

You think you earned this?

Huh? No, we groomed you
since you were a child, okay?

We attacked you to isolate you

so that we could draft you,
you dumb fuck.

OWNER:
Shut the fuck up, Tom.

Listen, boy.

I'll kill your family.

Now, sign the fucking contract.

CAM SR.:
You see that, Cam?

That's what real men do.

They make sacrifices.

YVETTE:
Hey, baby.

(laughing)

I'm him!

YVETTE:
You will always be my baby,

but I know that you're
your own man now.

I am so...

proud of you.

Nah.

(grunting)

♪ ♪

(weak, gasping breaths)

Cock-a-doodle-do, motherfucker.

- (blade strikes)
- TOM: Oh, shit!

ELSIE:
What the fuck are you doing?

- Don't just stand there.
- All right, all right.

- Shut the fuck up.
- Do your fucking job!

Dude, what the fuck
are you doing, man?

- Oh, shit.
- ELSIE: Fuck. Goddamn it.

All right, I'll fucking do it,

like I do everything else
around this goddamn league!

You want to see a real man?

Watch and learn,
you fucking little bitch.

- Get over here!
- (blade strikes)

(gasps) Oh, my God,
that is fucking stuck.

(yelps)

(straining):
Oh, Cam.

Come on, guys!
Let's get out of here!

- (groans)
- Fuck, fuck.

Come on, give me a fucking bar!

(blade squishing)

(pained grunting)

♪ ♪

(stammers)

TOM:
Oh, fuck. He's here.

He's here. Oh, fuck.

I-I'm so sorry. I-I'm so sorry.

(blade clangs)

(post rattling)

Watch your fucking mouth.

(head thuds on ground)

(grunts)

(rattling continues)

TOM: Work!
Come on, you motherfucker!

Come on.

Please, come on,
give me a fucking bar!

Come on! Anything? Come on!

Please, no.

Please, please.
I'll fucking do anything.

(whimpering):
I'm sorry.

Please.
Fucking kill me, all right?

Fucking kill me.

Cut my fucking throat.

Go ahead.

Fucking do it.

(blade thuds on ground)

Wait, wait, wait. (yelps)

Please, please. Oh, no.

(screaming)

It's me! It's me!

I'll fucking suck your dick.

Will you fucking
let me live, please?

(screaming)

CAM:
No guts...

...no glory.

(Tom screaming)

♪ ♪

TOM:
Please, God. (whimpering)

It's me! Let me live, please.

I want to live!

(jet engines whooshing)

Please. No, please, please.
(sobbing)

♪ ♪

I'll do anything for you,
just...

(Tom groans, screams)

(explosive whoosh)

- ♪ Hot damn, 'cause I'm H-I-M ♪
- ("HIM" by Denzel Curry plays)

♪ 'Cause I'm H-I-M,
hot damn, 'cause I'm H-I-M ♪

♪ 'Cause I'm H-I-M ♪

♪ Hot damn, 'cause I'm H-I-M,
'cause I'm H-I-M ♪

- ♪ Hot damn, 'cause I'm H-I-M ♪
- ♪ Goddamn, hey, hey ♪

- ♪ 'Cause I'm H-I-M ♪
- ♪ Hey ♪

♪ It's the masochist,
master blood practices ♪

♪ Cursed by extravagance ♪

♪ The depths in my mind
is the black abyss ♪

♪ Thee devil's advocate ♪

♪ My magic trick is to convince
the world that I don't exist ♪

♪ Addicted to money
and infinite power ♪

♪ And diamond-encrusted nooses
lit bitch ♪

♪ Been sedated, I awakened
to be more than famous, uh ♪

♪ Situation slowly solved,
I sold my soul for status ♪

♪ Sacrificial sac-religion ♪

♪ All of these bitches
gonna hop in the sack ♪

♪ This ain't devil's lettuce ♪

♪ This a motherfucking
soul pact, bitch ♪

♪ Through fake smiles and hugs,
they want me for my buzz ♪

♪ It's kind of hard to tell
from who I am and who I was ♪

♪ I place no one above
my fame, my fans and funds ♪

♪ The devil tryin' to trap me ♪

♪ Saying I'm the chosen one,
but why? ♪

♪ 'Cause I'm H-I-M,
'cause I'm H-I-M ♪

♪ Hot damn, 'cause I'm H-I-M ♪

♪ 'Cause I'm H-I-M ♪

♪ Hot damn, 'cause I'm H-I-M,
'cause I'm H-I-M ♪

♪ Hot damn, 'cause I'm H-I-M ♪

♪ 'Cause I'm H-I-M, hot damn ♪

♪ Soon as I become
the greatest ♪

♪ Now my ex wanna suck it
like D-Generation ♪

♪ Never exhibited patience ♪

♪ I'm surrounded by succubus,
energy taken ♪

♪ Pass naked, ass shaken,
cash making, smoked out ♪

♪ Gas chamber, last thing
I seen was demons coked out ♪

♪ Blinded by money
and women and clout ♪

♪ Give you my soul,
then I turn to a Faust ♪

♪ I can't tell
the difference between ♪

♪ Who I was from then and now ♪

♪ Sacrificial sac-religion ♪

♪ Slaughtering omens
that's all on my back ♪

♪ 'Cause I'm H-I-M ♪

♪ I don't need no fucking
soul pact, bitch ♪

♪ You look up to him,
I look up to God ♪

♪ You look up to him ♪

♪ I look up to God ♪

♪ You look up to him,
I look up to God ♪

♪ You look up to him ♪

♪ I look up to God. ♪

(song ends)

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

(music ends)