Original subtitles

¡Hey! ¡Programas! ¡Recuerdos!.

¡Vamos, vamos,vamos!.

¡Sigan!.

La tengo.

¿Quieres que Tobik lo termine por ti, Gus?.

No, estoy bien.

Sólo necesito salir de esta entrada.

Y respirar un poquito.

Hey.

Hey nada.

Esa bola está etiquetada.

Se va, se va...

a ningún lado.

Espera sólo un minuto.

Déjame ver la pelota.

¿Qué?.

Me escuchaste. Déjame verla.

¿Pelota congelada, Gus?.

¿De dónde vino eso?.

You shouldn't have to resort to this.

Quiero decir, ¿dónde está tu orgullo?.

Sabes, maldición, busqué arriba y abajo,

y yo...

Sabes que voy a tener que sacarte.

Oh, vamos, Mick. estoy a 5 ponches de terminar.

Lo siento, Gus, pero tienes que irte.

Te vas.

¡Estás fuera de aquí!.

Better not hold on to that too long, Mick,

if it freezes, they'll have to cut your fingers off,

to get rid of the damn thing.

Someone get me a bucket of water!

Get me some water now!

That arm numb yet,

or is it in that tingly burning stage

just before everything freezes?

Well...

look what the cat drug in.

Don't pretend like you're not surprised to see me.

Picked up a whiff of your cologne

about a half an hour ago.

Would you look at these fancy duds?

Flatterer.

Bullshitterer.

How you doing?

Sorry I missed it.

How'd you throw?

Pretty good.

I moved the ball around a lot.

Even blew a few fastballs by 'em.

Hmm.

I'm ok to drive. I know you are,

but you're too drunk to walk to your car,

so this nice taxi driver,

is gonna give you a lift.

Strong and capable woman.

You left out independent.

Uh-oh. You must be smitten.

Went past smitten a long time ago.

For the first time in my life,

the woman I love, and the woman I like

happen to be the same person.

That's a dangerous combo.

And the kicker is...

she loves me...

but she's not desperate for me.

Which could only mean...

you're desperate for her.

You got it.

Yeah, well, six marriages had to teach me something.

You ever think about getting out?

As a matter of fact, this is my last season.

I'm, uh, hanging it up.

Oh, yeah?

What are you gonna do?

I'm still kicking a few ideas around.

Well, it just so happens

that I've got a proposition for you.

And I thought you came all this way

'cause you missed the sound of my voice.

Oh, there is that, but...

Gus, I wanted to ask you,

how would you like to manage?

Manage?

I got a Triple-A team. A heap of talent

and not a baseball player in the bunch.

What I need, what they need,

is a genuine baseball man,

someone who really knows the game.

I figure with all you know about baseball,

and their natural ability,

it'd be a perfect match.

I--I don't know, Rog.

I mean, uh...

I spent the better part of my life

kicking around the minor leagues.

Hell, my ass has gone flat

from sitting on hard benches

and riding bad buses.

I ain't so sure I want to sign up for more.

But this is something that you know.

It's something you could be really good at.

Who says I can't be good

at something other than baseball?

No one.

Look, thanks.

Anyway, I--I...

come the end of the season,

I'm quitting-- cold turkey.

Hey, I know how to take no for an answer,

but maybe...

you could do me one little favor.

If I can.

I'd like you to take a look at Mr. "Downtown" Anderson.

He is a pure hitter.

Uh-huh.

You got the day off tomorrow, right?

Why don't the three of us-- why don't we go down,

and we can watch the kid play.

I'm in.

So it's either wrestle me for the ball,

or let me stay in.

So he let you stay in?

Yeah. Two dogs and two cokes.

Oh, just ketchup and mustard on mine.

Thanks.

Do my eyes deceive me?

Is that who I think it is?

Slick guy, overdressed,

helmet hair, shit-eating grin?

here you go, sir.

Thank you.

You must have eyes in the back of your head.

Leonard Huff.

Manager/bullshit artist extraordinaire.

I know a broken down old ballplayer when I see one.

No offense, of course.

Hey, Huff.

Gus.

Whoa-ho-ho.

And who is this lovely little lady?

I'm Maggie Reynolds.

Maggie.

Ok, that's four bucks.

Thanks. Oh, I'll get those.

I got it. No, no. Save your money.

I got it right here.

Here we go.

Yes, sir. Out of 10.

Oh, the change is yours, my friend.

Whoa! Thank you, sir.

So, Maggie, Maggie...

are you, uh, you a baseball fan?

As a matter of fact, I am.

Ah. Well...

I manage a team.

Minnesota Twins.

Maybe you've heard of them.

The Minnesota Twins.

Maybe I've heard of them...

you asshole.

Coming down!

Yep. First class all the way.

That's how we do it on the big team.

If he says "big team" one more time,

I'm gonna pinch his neck until his head pops off.

All right. Here's the kid I'm talking about.

Now coming to the plate,

number one, Billy "Downtown" Anderson.

Number one in your heart, number one in the program.

Play ball!

Downtown!

Batter, batter, batter, swing!

You like this kid, huh?

safe!

Super.

It is just super.

Oh, I was just telling Mr. Downtown here

that he's gonna be with the big team real soon.

No question about it.

The sooner the better as far as I'm concerned.

What do you think, Gus?

I think he's got a real nice bat.

Well, they say that I've got a pure swing,

that I'm a natural.

Yeah?

Soon as you get over that lack of confidence,

the sky's the limit.

All right. Good game.

Why don't you get in the shower?

I don't want my star player catching a cold.

Wait a sec.

Gus Cantrell.

6'1",185 pounds.

Throws right, bats right.

Yeah.

Yeah, I had triples of your rookie card

when I was in grade school.

Huh. You, uh, you still got 'em?

No. I traded them all

for one player to be named at a later date.

I'm kidding.

See ya.

Smart ass.

Well...

I gotta roll.

I gotta get back to the...

back to the big team, huh?

Exactly.

Oh.

Margaret.

Nice meeting you.

Mm.

Listen, you ever get tired of the minor leagues,

you, uh, give me a call.

Just kidding.

No, seriously. Kidding!

Ha ha. Kidding.

All right.

Let's go.

To the airport, my friend.

Hey, listen, keep me posted on that kid, will you?

Let's go.

Yep, move it.

Big tip for you.

Like a vulture circling fresh meat.

Yep.

Well, he wants Downtown.

He's not gonna wait. Trust me on this.

He's gonna wanna bring him up before he's ready.

You see, that's exactly what I've been saying.

You know how to bring a player along.

A need a manager with that kind of touch,

that kind of instinct.

I want you to take this kid to Triple-A.

I want you to teach him how to hit.

It sounds like a lot of work.

Hey, look, you try it for a couple of weeks.

You don't like it, no harm, no foul.

You quit.

I need to think about it.

Gus...

I need a coach.

Let you know in the morning?

You're on.

What if I hate it?

You quit.

He even gave you an out.

Are you scared?

No.

Yeah.

You know, you can't let fear of the unknown

keep you from moving off the dime.

No, really.

I mean, what if...

what if Christopher Columbus

had let fear get in the way?

I'd be playing cricket?

You know what I'm saying.

You really think I could manage a baseball team?

I know you can.

And, uh, what about us?

Us will be here.

Us isn't gonna go anywhere.

You must be Gus Cantrell.

What gave me away?

Frank Morgan. Everybody calls me Pops.

I'll grab these.

Oh, uh, thanks. Come on. Jump in.

This is Mr. Buzz.

Hi. How you doing?

Nice to meet you.

We're about an hour from game time,

so I brought your uniform along.

We'll move Mr. Buzz's head up here.

Excuse me. Watch your, uh...

you must be pretty excited, huh?

Oh, yeah.

This is the clubhouse.

In some parts of the world,

this is called a basement.

The good news is it's cool in August.

Other times it can be a little musty.

Dank?

That, too, but cool.

Here's your office.

Another prayer unanswered.

Lance Pere.

This is Gus Cantrell, our new skipper.

Welcome to our unique little troop.

Thanks.

You aren't stuck or anything, are you?

Naw.

It's yoga.

A limber mind leads to a limber spine,

which leads to a long life.

As we go, so goes the world,

for we are the world, the world is us.

I'll have to jot that down.

You better unwind and get dressed,

unless you're planning on playing naked.

Oh. All right, Pops.

Came to baseball

by way of the New York City Ballet.

Ballet?

Went to an open tryout.

He's such a natural athlete,

they signed him.

He used to be a ballerina?

I don't think guys are ballerinas.

Balladeer?

Don't balladeers sing?

Ah, I think that's a troubadour.

That was me. I was out of position.

Hog Ellis, this is our new skipper Gus Cantrell.

Hey.

What's up?

Nice to meet you.

Hog, show the skipper your fastball.

Got some velocity there.

Yeah.

You can bet on the hummer, baby.

It's all good.

Well, don't let me, uh...

interrupt.

It's cool.

"Cool" is the only thing he said I understood.

Hog ain't much on communication.

Remind me not to sit next to him on road trips.

Gus Cantrell.

Remember me?

Rube Baker.

My God, what are you doing here?

I thought you were with San Diego.

Oh, I was with San Diego.

Old control problem came creeping back to haunt me.

Trouble making the throw to second?

Yeah. Second.

And, uh, first.

Third, a little.

And I st-still have trouble

getting it back to the pitcher.

Well, come on. I don't believe that.

Just take a deep breath, rear back,

and let it rip.

Okay.

Mom, they did it again!

See what I mean? I just...

well, you're a little bit off the mark,

but don't worry. We'll get you straightened out.

Okay.

You want me to go get that?

Nah, don't worry about it. Just keep warming 'em up.

Good seeing you, Rube.

It was good seeing you, Gus.

You got any more balls?

Yes, sir, I remember Gus Cantrell

from the old California Double-A league.

That was before Diet Coke became my beverage of choice.

Gus was a pretty fair pitcher,

but he'll have to be more than pretty fair

to turn this bunch

into anything that resembles a baseball team.

They suck.

Perplexed?

Carlton Windgate, pitcher.

Everyone, uh, calls me Doc.

Gus Cantrell, manager.

Everybody calls me Gus.

Oh, I'm delighted to make your acquaintance.

Yeah. Likewise.

So you have a question regarding the scorecard

or...

Uh, well, yeah, as a matter of fact.

There's seems to be a mistake.

You got Juan Lopez at second

and Juan Lopez at short.

Ah. That's no mistake. Juan!

Hello, coach.

Buenos dias.

Brothers?

Twins.

With the same name?

Confounding, is it not?

"Confounding" seems to be the word of the day.

Listen, uh, from now on, you're gonna be Juan 1.

Sí.

And you're gonna be Juan 2.

Sounds good, coach.

Uh, excuse me, but, um, by numbering them,

you risk stifling their identities

and squelching their self-esteem.

I don't wanna be rude here, Doc,

but how would you like to be Juan 3?

Batter up!

♪ Baby, baby, baby, baby Baby ♪

♪ Baby, baby, baby, baby Baby ♪

♪ Baby-baby, baby-baby ♪

Watch out!

Oh!

Oh!

All right, Rube! Good try, Rube!

So a routine throw becomes a 2-base throwing error.

Mr. Buzz almost got nailed by that missile.

And we all might be better off

had he got nailed.

All right, Lance! Shake it off, buddy!

Shake it off! Get the next one, bud!

Lance the dance had a slippery one that time.

They don't call him ol' stone hands for nothing.

I've seen better hands on a clock.

Juan 1 has the ball, still time to make the throw.

No, Juan 2 has the ball! Hey, wait a second!

It's a brawl!

Oh, here we go again.

Come on, cut it out, you guys!

The brothers Lopez are going at it.

Juan 2 looks hurt.

No! Here he comes fighting back!

He connects with a right!

Whoo! What a shot!

Stop it! Stop it!

You can't play ball, man! I'll kill you!

You're ugly! You're ugly!

You!

You!

You're both out of here!

So all Juan Lopezes concerned get the heave-ho,

and right about now,

Gus Cantrell has gotta be wondering

why he ever took this job.

You know, fans, it's games like this

that used to get me overmedicated.

Ha-ha-ha.

Just keep hitting them up the middle, all right?

They'll catch on.

He got a bad jump on that one.

Not only that--he ran too long in the same spot.

Huh. Couldn't get a reading.

I got that used from the highway department.

It doesn't pick up anything under 55.

Under 55?

How was that, coach?

It was good, Doc.

Excellent. You want to see

my change-up before you go? No, no. I'm good.

Super. All right, we'll stay with the heater.

That-a-baby.

Lance Romance.

Coach? Let me see your mitt.

Huh?

Try this for a while.

Hey, I can't field with this.

Well, I hate to tell you,

but you ain't so hot with a glove, either.

Yeah, but--

I want you to get used to feeling the ball.

Loosen up those hands a little bit.

Okay, coach.

Go ahead, open it up.

It's a first baseman's mitt.

Yeah, that's what the guy at the sporting goods store

said it was.

I'm no first baseman. I'm an outfielder.

Been an outfielder all my life.

I know you're an outfielder, pops.

I just think it might be better for the team if we--

Hold on now.

I've been around a long time.

You don't have to give me

"the best thing for the team" speech.

I'll take it straight.

You're too old, you're too fat,

and you're too slow.

Straight enough?

Ah, that'll do it.

But I like your bat.

And I need a leader on the field,

and I think you're my man.

So, uh...

What do you say? You want to give first base a shot?

Sure. I'm...

if you think that's best for the team.

Thanks, Pops.

Yeah.

Okay, so, "pure hitter"-- now, what's that mean?

See, I got these naturally quick hands, you know?

Nuh-uh.

Yeah, I got a pretty good eye, too.

No, no, no.

Niçoise.

I told you. We got ranch, Italian,

chunky blue cheese, which is 50 cents extra.

Okay.

Do you have any balsamic vinegar?

I got ranch, Italian,

chunky blue cheese.

Ok. You know what?

Forget the salad.

Bring me a gun, and I'll just shoot myself, ok?

Pops, I was wondering--

you, uh--you ever make it to the show?

Came close once.

Yeah?

With the Red Sox organization.

Mm-hmm.

It was in October. A player got injured.

I got the call.

And I was on the plane flying into Boston

when a freak snowstorm hit.

We couldn't land.

Two days later, weather's fine,

so is the player.

No way.

That was it?

Twenty years, professional baseball,

I circled the show. Couldn't land.

Windgate is what you'd call a finesse pitcher--

moves the ball up and down, in and out,

relies on control and savvy.

They time this kid's fastball with an hourglass.

He-he-he-he!

Oh.

Anderson.

Sacrifice him over.

Sacrifice?

Yeah. Bunt him over into scoring position.

You're kidding me.

No, I'm not kidding.

Lay one down.

Hit one, Downtown!

Okay.

Come on, D.T.!

Anderson drives one to left and deep.

Hey, get up, get out of here, gone!

For Anderson...

and the Buzz lead this game 3-2.

Good job, buddy.

D.T.!

D.T.!

Baby, baby!

Food. I want some food, baby.

Roast beef sandwich. I want some cheese,

some bologna, some turkey,

some potato salad, a pickle...

Anderson.

Anderson.

I need to see you.

Uh-oh.

Someone's in trouble.

Doesn't look good.

If I'm not back in five minutes...

I'll put this sandwich to go, bro, all right?

All right, you guys.

Just make him his sandwich.

Yeah.

Hi.

Pull up a chair.

See, uh...

this ain't the Downtown show,

so, uh...

when I ask you to lay one down,

you lay one down.

But I won the game.

Well, that's not the point.

We're a team here.

We do what's best for the team.

And I make that decision.

See, this isn't about one guy

doing what he wants to do.

Even if that one guy wins a ball game?

Even if that one guy wins a ball game.

Okay.

I'm benching you for the next three games.

You're serious?

Yeah.

But I'm on a roll. I've had five hits

in my last 12 at-bats, and you're going to bench me?

Three games, you sit.

Is that all?

Yeah, that's it.

Skipper, can I talk to you for a second?

Sure. What's up, Doc?

Well, I've been working with Rube,

trying to help him to open up.

Open up?

We were actually breaking down some walls,

and I really believe

that Rube's whole throwing problem

goes back to an abrasive little league coach.

Rube can't throw worth a shit

because of some jerk-off little league coach?

In layman's terms, yes.

And I want to ask you

if you could just be gentle with him.

See, Rube's psyche

is far more delicate

than his rugged facade would indicate.

You want me to give him my gentle speech?

If you would be so kind.

And, skipper,

I want to thank you for making yourself accessible

to such an open dialogue.

You bet.

Mm-hmm. It's strong for your legs.

It'll be good for first base.

Balance yourself, Pops.

Okay.

Ok, now we're going to do jetés.

We're going to leap like a gazelle.

Mm-hmm.

Follow me, baby. Gazelle.

Whoo!

Leap!

♪ Takin' care of business ♪

♪ Every day ♪

Let the ball get further across the plate, right?

Further in on you,

and then hit the inside half of it

right into right field.

You can't help but hit it that way.

Well, why do I want to hit it into right field?

I mean, I'm a pull hitter.

I know you are,

and it won't be long

until every pitcher knows it, too.

Just try it.

All right, try again.

This time, act like you give a shit.

Hey, Rube.

Hey, skip.

I've been wondering--

you got any, uh, hidden skills?

Hidden skills?

Yeah. Like if my car wasn't running right,

could you take the carburetor apart and fix it?

No.

No, I don't know nothing about carburetors.

How about if I bought you some lumber--

could you make me a coffee table?

Uh, nope.

Don't believe I could.

So your skills then lend themselves

primarily to baseball,

we could say that?

Yeah, we could say that.

If another routine throw lands 15 rows in the grandstands,

I'm sending your ass home.

So you better make your throws,

or I suggest you invest in some how-to books

and find a fallback profession, understood?

Yeah. Yes, sir.

I'll just...

Mitt.

I thought you were going to give him the gentle speech.

That was it.

♪ Whoo ♪

God...

if you can hear me,

please...

send me one real baseball player.

That's all I ask.

And if you can't grant me that, then, well...

you might as well just strike me dead

right here and now.

God?

No.

Moses?

No, but you're getting warm.

Cerrano.

Hello, Gus.

Oh, Jesus Christ.

Be careful, now.

You scared me to death.

Do you mean when you realized God is black?

Yeah.

I thought she was white.

I must've been out a long time

if it's Halloween already.

What's your point?

Pedro Cerrano, the original voodoo man from Mars,

dropped out of baseball

to find whatever the hell it was he lost.

Maybe his mind.

Anyway, he's back with a new piece of lumber.

Let's see if he remembers how to swing it.

Hey, how about that?

Cerrano must have bumped into

the god of all line drives.

He just hit a bullet down the left field line.

Two runs score,

and the Buzz put one in the win column.

Yeah!

They're on a roll now, baby.

Whoo!

Juan!

The Lopez brothers pull off a double play--

4 to 6 to 3.

Hey, and not a punch was thrown,

not a drop of blood spilled.

All right, Pops, nice stretch.

All right.

Nothing like a little brotherly love.

Bunt!

Whoo! Out!

So the Buzz win their third in a row.

Oh, my.

Cerrano?

Yo.

Cerrano.

Sí, Gus, what?

Is that who I think it is?

Jesús Cristo.

Tanaka.

Did your part to beautify America.

I see you've got it made in the shade, man.

Peace of brain?

Peace of mind.

Basically, yeah.

Uh, what does your inner voice tell you?

:

:

Ah...

sounds like Taka needs a vacation.

I got just the thing.

Come on.

Watch your step.

Go, Taka!

Come on, you can do it!

Taka Tanaka, like Cerrano,

left baseball for a while.

Here's the windup and the pitch to Tanaka.

He swings and lines a single to right field.

Tanaka hit that one right on the screw.

♪ I'm turning Japanese, I think I'm turning Japanese ♪

♪ I really think so ♪

Holy crapola!

The Buzz just pulled off a double steal.

Either someone got their signals crossed,

or this is starting to look like a baseball team.

Safe!

What the hell is that? What's he doing?

Bravo!

I think that's a--a curtsy?

Lance Pere is curtsying to the crowd.

Huh. He's blowing kisses and curtsying.

This must go back to his days as a balladeer.

Oh, he was a singer?

Dancer.

Oh.

All right, Lance.

Now batting, Carlos Liston.

Baltimore Orioles, eight...

Minnesota Twins, nothing!

Huh?

Coach, you're doing a fine job,

a real fine job.

Get your heads in the game, ok?

Huh? Put the magazines away.

Put the phones away. Bye, mom.

Pick it up. Get ahold of one now.

Eighteen million over three seasons,

and he doesn't even wave the bat at the ball.

What?

Thought you'd like to know. The Buzz won again.

That puts them in second place.

Really?

Well, maybe I'll take a trip down there,

watch somebody who's interested

in playing baseball.

The next game is not until Thursday.

They've got two days off.

Hey, Gus.

Hey, I knew you could turn that bunch into a ball team.

The first couple of weeks were pretty rough,

but we're starting to come together.

Gus, look, you've got a couple of days off.

Why don't you hop on a plane, come up here,

and let me wine and dine you Minnesota style?

I can't.

I promised Maggie I'd spend the next couple of days off

up there with her.

All expenses paid,

first-class trip to Minneapolis.

In fact, my assistant is calling the hotel

as we speak and booking the presidential suite.

I don't know, Rog. By the time we get up there,

we got to turn around and come back.

I'll send my jet for you.

Very sexy. Nice vacation for you and Maggie.

Lear jet.

Okay.

Okay, you're on.

Yeah.

So, um...

what's the deal with Carlos?

Well, Carlos is in a love fest...

with Carlos.

What about the rest of your team?

Well, one of them wants to be traded to New York,

so he can get a little more press coverage.

My center fielder is threatening to quit

'cause he wants to become a male model.

And my shortstop and second baseman aren't speaking

because one of them's got a bigger shoe contract,

and they haven't turned a double play in over a month.

So, out of your 25 players,

baseball is a primary concern for how many?

Fourteen...

maybe.

Ah.

Oh, God, I love this team.

What? I like it.

Huh.

Well, I'll tell you this, all right?

If I had a good short reliever,

I could turn this team around.

In his wildest dreams.

What's that?

Nothing.

No, no. Come on, go ahead.

Gus.

I'm just saying that a short reliever

is not going to solve your problems.

Why's that?

You got no unity.

It's every man for himself. Nobody's playing for the team.

Well, that's right. We got a few bad eggs

who are spoiling it for everyone else.

Well, you see,

when you have major talent,

you get major personalities.

Maybe you got too much talent and not enough team.

Uh-huh.

See, this game is about nine guys working as one.

They don't have to be the best nine guys who ever lived.

They just got to work together.

Oh, that's sweet.

That really is. That's--that's so sweet.

Nine guys working together as one.

Come on, everyone.

Om.

Rah, rah, rah. I love that.

I do. I love that, but...

uh, eh...

you're just going to have to trust me on this.

You don't know what you're talking about.

Is that so?

This might be a good time to get the check.

Yeah, no, that most definitely is so.

See, let me explain, okay?

There are two kinds of baseball, right?

There's big league...

and then there's little league.

And you, my friend...

you are in the latter.

That smells a little bit like a challenge.

If you're foolhardy enough to take it as one,

yeah, it is.

Any hour, any day, any week,

my guys will be on the field ready to go.

Waiter?

Wait a second. Say what?

You would actually step onto the same field

as my Twins?

Is there an echo in this room?

Let me tell you something.

Don't poke me.

If you had the first idea--

I said don't poke me.

In fact, if you had any idea of what--

Ow! Ow! Ow, ow, ow, ow!

I told you not to poke me, you loudmouth moron!

You are breaking my finger!

Son of a bitch!

Let go of my finger, you putz!

Stop!

One minute, you're telling me about

the new, improved, responsible Gus Cantrell

and the next thing I know,

you're rolling across a barroom floor

punching, kicking, and biting.

I didn't bite him.

Besides, it wasn't my fault.

It wasn't your fault?

No. Huff asked me to hit him.

That's funny. I don't remember hearing him

request a punch in the nose.

It's, like, a secret guy language.

When somebody pokes you with their finger

more than once, they're saying,

"Come on and hit me."

A secret guy language.

I mean, I knew about the handshake

and the decoder ring,

but the language thing is new to me.

Hello.

Yeah, he's right here.

It's Roger.

Listen, Rog, I'm really sorry.

Uh, right now?

Okay.

Okay.

On my way.

Good morning, Mr. Cantrell.

Follow me, please.

No, that sounds great.

I think that'll work out great.

Uh-huh.

Behind you all the way, sir.

Thank you.

I'll tell him you said that.

Oh, my God.

Ok, gotta go. Talk to ya. Bye-bye.

Are you out of your mind?

You know, you are the fifth person

this morning to ask me that question.

We can't play the Twins. We're a minor league club.

You said nine players playing together.

I know what I said, damn it.

Don't throw it back at me.

You don't believe it?

Well, of course I believe it. It's...

Coffee, sir?

Yeah.

Um, I just wanted to say that, uh,

on behalf of the entire restaurant staff,

go Buzz. Kick ass.

Um, thanks.

By the way,

that was Huff on the phone just now.

He thinks that you're gonna back out.

He said that?

Yeah. Blowin' smoke out of your butt.

Those were his words.

And gutless. I think he said gutless.

He--I forgot how he used it.

Big Twins vs. The Little Twins.

Sounds like a good way

to put some butts in the seats, huh?

Do you really think selling tickets

is my sole motivation?

Ok, maybe it is, but nevertheless,

this is a great opportunity

for your boys to see the show up close, personal.

Gus, come on!

It's--it's dicey.

Why don't you ask your team what they wanna do?

Huff's finger broken?

Fractured.

Give me 24 hours. Let me talk to my team.

You're the man.

Gotta go.

Hello?

Yeah, it's for real.

It's been a while.

One thing never changes.

What's that?

Butterflies.

Yeah.

What a decade to quit drinking.

Like I said before, the charges were dropped.

What about your alleged quote,

"Carlos Liston is so big, he's becoming a religion"?

Yeah, honey, I said it.

You got a problem with it?

What exactly does it mean?

It means that people think of Carlos Liston.

Carlos is on the minds of people.

They wish to pay him respect

because they know him to be a superior man.

Does anyone besides Carlos Liston

worship at the shrine of Carlos Liston?

Or is it a one-man congregation?

Thou shall not make fun of Carlos,

or thou will get thou's ass whipped.

This is unbelievable!

Learned a hobby, man.

You'll be, like, a starter.

Carlos Liston--

resident madman and cleanup hitter.

I have to pitch to him?

Yeah.

Yeah, just remember one thing.

Carlos is a little bit like a mad dog.

Mad dog?

If he smells fear, he goes into attack mode.

So no matter what you do...

Don't let him know that you are scared.

I gotta use the bathroom.

Use the mound. Stake out your territory.

Whoo!

Gentlemen...

this is not a should-win or want-to-win situation.

This is every 8-year-old's dream.

Playing in a big league game

in a big league park.

This is a must-win situation!

Play as well as you can.

I want you to humiliate, brutalize!

Don't force. Don't push, huh?

Beat them into submission!

Let's stay loose.

Let's have some fun.

Come on, guys. What do you say?

Strike three!

He struck him out swinging

and the Hogster is bringing the heat,

throwin' gas, tossin' aspirins,

blowin' smoke, zingin' BBs,

firing missiles, zipping darts,

threading the needle.

Let's see if my colleague in the booth here

has anything to add.

Nope, guess not.

Throw! Make your throw!

Oh, my lord!

Taka slides safely into first base.

beautiful and daring--

the only words to describe that play.

Wouldn't you say "beautiful and daring"?

Well, my colleague, a little bashful, concurs.

And this Buzz team has come to play ball.

There's no bout-a-doubt it.

Got it, baby.

Mine! Mine!

What the hell?

Charge!

Keep it up! Keep it up!

Nice, nice, nice. Love to your mother.

Hey, hey, Gussy. Whoo!

Who the man now? Who the man?

Adams broke up the double play.

Could have been called for unnecessary roughness

on that one.

And that brings Carlos Liston

to the plate.

Time-out.

Hog.

He's been crowding the plate,

forcing you to throw into his power.

You better give him a little chin music.

You want me to throw at Carlos Liston?

He'll hate you tonight,

but he'll respect you in the morning.

What do I do if he comes out here after me?

Just--

Climbing the center field wall

wouldn't be a bad idea.

Just calming the kid down.

Probably telling him to keep the ball down and away.

Liston's getting up.

He doesn't appear to be hurt.

And he doesn't appear to be happy.

Oh, right now would be a good time

to get Hog measured for a casket.

What's up?

Now, I know you ain't throwing at Carlos Liston,

'cause anyone dumb enough to throw at Carlos

wouldn't be smart enough to find their way to the park.

And you're here, so you ain't that dumb.

I think there was a little moisture on the ball,

and it slipped out of my hand.

Moisture?

Dew. A little dew.

Yeah, well, you get that close to Mr. Liston again,

dew or no dew,

and I'll come back out here

and beat you into the ground with that bat.

You got that?

Yes, sir. Yeah, I got it.

It's no problem.

There's a routine fly ball

hit to left field.

Oh, the wind's got this baby.

Takin' it back toward the wall...

the wind's gonna carry this one

over the fence for a home run.

I might point out that there is no wind.

We're in a dome. An enclosed environment.

There's no rain, either,

in case you were wondering.

Oh, well, excuse me for having an opinion, pal.

Hey, what's that over there?

Where?

Hey!

Look out!

You did that on purpose.

Oh, my!

My notes. My scorecard.

It was a complete accident. I'm--i'm--

My pants!

Here, here, here's a 20.

Get yourself another suit.

Come on, Billy.

Take it out, D.T.

Some people say Downtown is a big league hitter.

Yeah, he's one of the people

spreading that rumor.

I guess now is the moment of truth.

Here's the windup and the pitch to Downtown.

He swings and drives one to left.

This ball is really hit back toward the wall.

Could get out of here... gone for Downtown!

And the Buzz have tied it at three all.

Listen to this crowd!

They love this team!

Whoo!

Well, so much for beating them into submission.

Shut up!

Get the trainer. Better bring a bag of ice.

Come on, guys.

Play a little ball here now. Oh!

Here's the throw by Tanaka.

Heading towards third. He threw a bullet.

There's going to be a play, and they've got him! He's out!

What a throw by Tanaka!

Wasn't that a beaut?

You're a beaut.

You're finally coming around.

Charge!

Adams swats that one for a single to left field.

Well, slam or swat, the Twins' hitters

have timed this kid's fastball.

Well, Hog will have to go to one of his other pitches.

He doesn't have other pitches

Does too. Does not.

Does too. Does not.

Does too. Doesn't.

Does too. Does not!

Hey, somebody needs a nap.

He's going to be sitting on the fastball.

I can't let that happen to Hog.

Time, ump. Time!

You ok?

Yeah.

Good job, Hog.

There's nothing to be ashamed of.

We just gotta find you another pitch.

Something to go along with that fastball.

Doc?

Yep.

Coach, he's got no smoke.

They've been looking at heat all day.

Give them a little change of pace.

Coming to the mound for the Buzz...

will be number 35... Doc Windgate. Windgate.

Well, we got one out left, Doc, but, uh,

it's a tough one.

You, uh, want me to go with the off-speed stuff?

You, uh, you got anything else?

Nope.

Let's go with the off-speed stuff.

Strike!

That-a-baby, Doc. That-a-baby, Doc.

Liston swung just a little early...

by about four and a half minutes.

Damn junk baller.

Carlos hasn't seen anything this slow

since high school.

That-a-guy, Doc. That-a-guy.

Strike two on Liston.

He's swinging at pitches that leave Doc's hand on Tuesday.

The trouble is they don't arrive till Wednesday.

Thanks.

Tell that son of a bitch

to throw me his fastball.

That was his fastball.

We're one strike away from extra innings.

If they go up to bat again...

We could lose this damn thing.

Get this guy, okay?

One more time. One more time.

I'm gonna kill 'em.

You can't do that.

Oh--look, numb nuts,

this is my ballpark, all right?

I can do anything that I want to.

You're the manager.

You're right about that.

You're right about that.

Do it! That's right, I said kill 'em.

Here's the pitch.

Oh, isn't that a shame?

Power outage, my large white buttocks.

Well, that's what he said.

Did you know that Huff has "born to lie"

tattooed on his forearm?

Is that true?

He's on the twins-- Carlos Liston.

Gigantic.

You wouldn't believe it if you saw him,

and he says to me, "I'm gonna beat you

"into the ground with this bat."

What did you say?

I said, "you better chase it on back

"to the plate where you belong.

"before I rip your face off

"and shove it in your..."

No way.

Yeah.

What did he do?

He walked his self on back to the plate.

Wow.

Tell you what, Rube.

Played a major league team in a major league stadium.

Made the whole 20 years worthwhile.

It's a beautiful thing.

Oh, yeah.

♪ Oye como va ♪

♪ Mi ritmo ♪

♪ Bueno pa' gozar ♪

♪ Mulata ♪

♪ Oye como va ♪

♪ Mi ritmo ♪

♪ Bueno pa' gozar ♪

♪ Mulata ♪

♪ Huh ♪

"They're calling it a tie,

"but the Twins were outplayed

"by a younger, gutsy Buzz team.

"and Leonard Huff was outcoached

"by ex-player rookie manager Gus Cantrell.

"However, a generator snafu allowed the Twins

"to limp home

with their dignity just barely intact."

Congratulations.

Thank you.

A lot of people are very impressed.

In fact, it's made me start wondering

if I didn't have a couple of people in Triple-A

who were ready to come up to the bigs

and vice versa.

It did?

It made you wonder?

Yeah, it did.

And apparently I'm not the only one

who's wondering.

I got a call this morning.

Yeah?

Yeah.

Huff, he, uh...

he wants Downtown.

Roger, Downtown's not ready.

Well, Huff says he is.

Well, Huff doesn't know his butt from a manhole cover.

Gus, listen.

No, you listen.

You take Downtown up too early,

you may have to send him back,

and that could really hurt the kid.

Gus--

He's got a big career ahead of him,

but you've got to bring him along.

He's just starting to listen to me--

Gus, Gus!

Huff is the Twins' manager.

If he wants to bring a Triple-A ballplayer

to the show, then I'm sorry.

He's made it very clear.

He wants Downtown.

Take care, man.

You guys do, too.

Hey, good luck, bud.

Well...

going to the show.

Yeah, I'm going...

to the show.

Could I make sort of an off-the-wall suggestion?

Sure.

Tell Huff you want four more weeks with me

before you go up.

Convince him you need a little more time.

What the hell would I want to do that for?

Because you're not ready yet, kid.

Bullshit.

Huff says I am.

Huff doesn't know, okay?

He's not about turning you

into a baseball player.

He's trying to use a publicity stunt

to cover up a lousy season.

You know, I knew this.

I knew this would happen.

I knew you'd come in and try to rain on my parade.

I'm not trying to rain--

Yes, you are.

You've been on my ass since the very beginning.

I hit a home run, and you benched me.

You told me not to pull when I'm a natural pull hitter.

I'm just trying to help you.

Don't tell me you're trying to help me,

'cause you're not.

You never were.

Want me to tell you why?

Because you're jealous.

You're jealous of the fact that I got more talent

on my worst day than you've had

in your whole goddamn career.

What, it's true, isn't it?

Isn't it? Isn't it?

You've never had half the talent that I do.

That's true.

God, I should have known you couldn't just shake my hand

and say good luck.

But you know what?

I don't give a shit 'cause I just passed you up.

I don't need you, Gus Cantrell.

I'm moving on to bigger and better things.

Thanks.

Thanks for nothing.

Strike two!

So the Buzz lose another close one.

They've dropped seven of the last eight,

making this a very rough road trip.

Gentlemen.

Some of you guys might want to check your contracts.

You set there, Rube?

Oh, yeah, sorry.

A little more mayo there.

Seems you signed on to play an entire season,

but it looks like you quit playing

about two-thirds of the way through,

and I'd like for someone to tell me

what the hell is going on.

Huh?

Yeah, Hog?

Well, you see, um...

no one thinks that we can win without Downtown...

I think.

Look, this game is not about one home run hitter.

Don't get me wrong.

I miss Downtown as much as any one of you,

but baseball is not about one player.

It's about a team,

an entire team, playing together.

Oh, that's right.

Look at me like I'm some damn corndog old man

who doesn't know what the hell I'm talking about.

You know, I don't know about the rest of you,

but I remember not too long ago

we were the joke of the league.

Now we've won a few games.

We even went dead even with the big team,

and this man made the difference.

I think we might want to listen to what he has to say.

Look, guys, I'm just asking you to do one thing.

Start thinking about how you can help the guy

sitting next to you.

Maybe you know something he doesn't know.

Maybe you got some information you can pass along.

We're traveling tonight. We got the Crawdads tomorrow.

By the time we hit the field,

I expect everybody's mind to be on teamwork

and the business of baseball.

Cool?

It's cool.

All right.

Let's pack it up and get out of here.

It's not that complicated.

You see, a curve ball is simply

the application of basic physics.

Resistance plus velocity equals...

You okay?

Yeah.

Uh, motion.

Bingo.

Now, by controlling the resistance,

I.E. The rotation, you can determine

direction of motion.

The greater the velocity,

the less opportunity for resistance.

Thus, a smaller degree of motion.

Right.

Less velocity.

Create more resistance.

Allow for greater movement.

Strike three, you're out!

He struck him out.

Hog Ellis has just thrown the first curve ball

of his young life.

And the boy now has not one, but two pitches.

All right!

Nice deuce there, Hog.

I just decreased velocity,

reversed the ball's natural rotation.

Whatever you say, Hog.

Just keep throwing 'em.

Way to go, Hogster.

Norman looks in, gets the signal.

Here's the pitch.

Swing and a miss.

And strike three.

Anderson goes down swinging.

And is now three for 15 since joining the Twins.

Downtown, huh?

More like down and out if you ask me.

Voodoo! Voodoo! Voodoo!

Voodoo! Voodoo!

Voodoo! Voodoo! Voodoo!

Voodoo! Voodoo! Voodoo!

As it's been explained to me, the hood helps Cerrano focus.

All I know is it looks dumb as hell,

and he has to be led up to home plate.

But I've long since given up trying to understand this team.

Cerrano lines a bullet to left center.

Romance is rounding third.

Lance the dance scores on what appears to be

a double salchow and a triple axel thrown in, too.

What a play.

The Buzz are back on track.

They've won seven of their last 10.

All right, all right. Good stuff.

I...

Hi.

Hey.

I couldn't cut the mustard.

Sorry.

Man, you can say "I told you so" if you want.

No point in that.

Look, about all that shit I said to you, I'm sorry.

Well...

it's water over the bridge

or under the dam

or wherever the hell the water goes.

Sit down.

Yes, sir.

Any idea what happened?

It was, uh...

I mean, a number of things, really, but...

they just started throwing me outside

like you said they would.

You want to know the good news?

Yeah.

Yeah, I'd like to hear some good news.

This is nothing we can't fix.

How do we do that?

Sweat, sweat, and more sweat.

Straight up with your hands,

straight back with your chests.

Way back to the sky.

Way beyond your hands

and then back into first position.

Clear.

Wow.

That's cool.

I told you not to do anything fancy.

But if I can get around on an outside--

Do you know more about hitting than I do?

No.

I'm asking you to do two things:

keep your mouth shut,

and listen to my instructions.

Can you do that?

Yeah. Yeah.

Okay.

Don't over swing, all right?

Take a little bit later

and drive it into right field.

Here we go.

That's better, that's better.

You ready?

Ready.

It's dark in there.

You're not scared?

Clear.

Thinking ball and nothing else.

Thinking ball and nothing else.

♪ Well, I know that it's Been a long ♪

♪ Time since I been gone ♪

♪ It's easy to forget ♪

♪ Help me remember ♪

Keep your head down.

Go, Downtown.

Come on, buddy. Give it a ride, pal.

Nothing fancy. Just keep your head down.

Here's the pitch to Anderson.

It's a swing and a base hit to right.

This will send Juan 1 to third.

Downtown's got another base hit, sending his average up

near the 300 mark.

Safe!

This kid's not just a home run swinger anymore.

He's turning himself into a solid hitter.

Hey, coach, you finished the season in first place.

Let's face it, you do it without anything

that even resembles a major league player.

Hold it right there.

We got a lot of players on this team

of major league caliber.

Like who? Downtown Anderson?

Yeah, for one.

I heard coach Huff say

he thinks Downtown's a mistake.

He even went on to say that he didn't have

any business in the big leagues.

Well, once again Leonard Huff has his head

shoved up a body cavity that I can't mention on TV.

So you disagree with Huff's evaluation of Anderson?

Not only do I disagree, but I'm not even sure

that Huff, or for that matter,

some of his own players,

belong in the major leagues.

In fact, as far as I'm concerned,

you're looking at the best team

in the entire Twins organization.

Ha! You minor league peckerwad.

Beat 'em man-to-man at every position.

Once again, though,

Huff considers that incomplete.

I think he even said...

I said it was a fluke. I said that.

I want to hear what he's saying.

Would you shut up?

Love this announcer.

Shut up.

The light thing was pretty squirrely.

Meaning?

I'd like to check the fingerprints

on that light switch.

He's accusing me.

This son of a bitch is accusing me.

If we can't beat the Twins,

I'll hand over my entire year's salary to Huff.

And if the Twins lose?

I can't believe he's doing this.

The least he could do would be to put up his job.

So this is a, uh...

challenge.

A friendly challenge with incentives.

If you win, you get to manage the Twins.

If Huff wins, then he takes home your entire year's salary.

That's right.

I'm gonna ask for one condition.

: What's that condition gonna be?

This game should be played at home,

at Buzz stadium.

So, Leonard Huff, wherever you are,

the ball's in your court.

Aw, Jesus, Lenny!

You could have just turned it off.

That son of a bitch set me up.

He knew every sports channel in America

would run this thing.

Nobody ever said he was stupid.

Yeah, well, I'll say it. He's stupid.

He's stupid, stupid. He's so stupid.

Oh, stop.

He's stupid.

What am I gonna do now?

Well, the way I see it you got one of two choices.

You can either play the Buzz,

or you can have the entire world of baseball call you a coward.

It's up to you.

By the way,

you just bought yourself a $1,200 TV.

Jopu, what are you doing here?

I told you before.

These boys, they've got to do it on their own.

I would love to use you, but I cannot,

so please get back in the bag.

But stay close.

Jesus Christ, what a dump.

Oh, man, can you imagine living like this?

Look out!

Sorry to have to do this,

but there's a speech clause in my contract.

I know you've all read in the paper

that this game is a publicity stunt,

part of my ongoing feud with Leonard Huff.

But it would be foolish and self-indulgent

for me to put you all in such a jam,

in such a tough game for publicity.

No, my--

my motivation is stronger, deeper than that.

It's...

it's ego.

But unlike some coaches

who might ask you to go out there

and play the game because you love it

or because you're fulfilling a lifelong dream,

I'm asking plain and simple that you win this one...

for me.

Huh?

Win this one for Gus Cantrell.

Now, stay loose, play hard, give it your best shot,

and let's go out there

and take a bite out of the big team's ass.

♪ If they don't win ♪

♪ It's a shame ♪

♪ 'Cause it's one ♪

♪ Two ♪

♪ Three strikes, you're out ♪

♪ At the old ball game ♪

Let's go now! Come on, boys!

Let's go! Play ball!

Gentlemen, you know the ground rules,

so let's shake hands.

Have a good, clean ball game.

I'm going to give you the beating of your life.

We'll see about that.

Yeah, we will.

By the way,

some of the guys have been wondering

where you got your toupee.

This is not a toupee, all right?

This is real.

You can level with me, huh, Lenny?

Come on, where'd you get it?

No, it is. It's real, see?

It's mine. Come on.

It is. It's real, and it's mine.

See that? Ha-ha-ha!

Dumb ass. Ha ha!

I'll go tell the guys they were wrong.

Well, the first pitch has yet to be thrown,

and already Leonard Huff is tearing his hair out.

And what a lovely head of hair it is.

That is, of course, assuming it's real.

Heh-heh-heh.

And, frankly, I've always had a question.

You're out!

All right, Lance.

You're out!

What style. What finesse.

What je ne sais quoi,

which is Italian for "what a hell of a play."

It's French,

and it's je ne sais quoi.

Get out of here. It means the same thing in French?

Huh. What about that?

Mon dieu.

God bless you.

Hog! Hog! Hog! Hog!

Hog! Hog! Hog! Hog!

Strike two!

Kid learned to throw a curve ball, huh?

Gee, I don't know.

I mean, was that a curve ball?

I mean, it's hard for me to tell from way back here.

Carlos moves in a little closer,

trying to get a good look at Hog's mystery pitch.

Otherwise known as a curve ball.

Probably a curve ball.

Carlos is taking the plate away from Hog.

The kid's afraid to throw him inside.

Hog! Hog! Hog! Hog!

Hog! Hog! Hog! Hog! Hog! Hog!

Come on, man.

Come on.

Come on! Come on! Come on!

Second. Second.

All righty, Hog. Come on, buddy.

Hang tough now. Let's go.

Ha ha! Let's go. Let's go, guys.

Come on, we need some more runs now.

Be a hitter up there! Be a hitter up there!

Hey, hey. Pitcher's got a rubber arm.

Ha ha!

Hey, give me some pistachios.

That's it. That's it.

Go, go, go, go, go!

You're outta there!

Good job. Good job.

You all right?

Come on, Buzz!

Yeah! Yeah!

Two! Two!

Come on!

Come on, baby.

Well, the entire Lopez family scores,

and the Twins learn the hard way

you can't pitch around Anderson.

He's become a complete hitter.

All right, guys. Come on, come on, come on.

Let's go. I need some more runs.

More runs.

You're outta there!

That's poetry-- pure poetry.

Poe, Wadsworth,

Barry Manilow,

Maya Angelou,

this Buzz Ball Club--

what do they all have in common?

Poetry.

And I have to ask my colleague--

have you ever seen a sunset more beautiful

than that play at the plate?

My colleague is speechless.

He's speechless.

Come on, let's go!

Hey, twinkle toes, go ahead and get a lead.

Get a lead, little bigger lead. That's it.

Pitch count.

What's the pitch count?

Ninety-seven.

Jeez, you moron. Come on, you're killing me!

And you are not helping.

All right, all right. Come on, Lance.

Give me an "L"!

L!

Give me an "A"!

A!

Give me an "N"!

N!

Give me a "C"!

C!

Give me an "E"! E!

What have you got?

: Lance!

What have you got?

Lance!

Lance! Lance!

Top of the ninth. Twins are leading 4-3.

And with two outs and a runner on second,

the big man, Carlos Liston, comes to the plate.

Hey, Cantrell!

Scoreboard!

Scoreboard!

Man, you must love these minor leagues.

Come on, now!

Come on, now! Hit a one-ton tomato!

Yes, yes, yes!

Foul ball!

Oh, shit!

That ball lands foul for a very long strike one.

All right, Carlos.

Pop one out, and I'll give you all the tamales you can eat!

Keep it fair!

Yes, yes, yes!

I better go talk to him.

Another long strike, and here comes Cantrell.

And I imagine he's gonna ask Hog Ellis

to keep some of these strikes inside the park.

Hey.

Got two strikes on him.

Yup.

They were beauties, too, huh?

He's crowding the plate a little bit.

Yeah.

Hog. Yeah.

You want to walk him

and pitch to the next batter?

No.

I want Carlos.

I think it's time for a little chin music.

You sure?

Yeah.

When he hits the dirt,

you get the ball back to me quick as you can.

All right.

If he comes out, I'll try to cut him off.

No, Pops, you stay put.

This is my fight.

He's gonna knock him down, boys.

He's gonna knock him down.

Come on, Hog, let's do it, buddy.

All right, now, just hold on.

Wait, wait, wait.

Now, this here is a 100-mile-an-hour fastball.

The most powerful fastball known to man.

From this distance, if it were to hit you,

it'd take your head clean off.

Of course, I could miss...

but my control has been pretty good today...

so you gotta ask yourself one question.

Do I feel lucky?

Well...

do you, Carlos?

Let's go. Play ball.

Ok, let's play now!

Play ball!

Strike three, you're out!

Yeah, yeah!

Whoo!

Whoo!

Man, you did it!

This is bad.

Very bad. Not good.

That brings us to the bottom of the ninth.

By the way, folks,

Hog Ellis is not a fighter.

That's for sure.

So I'm guessing he's appealed to Liston's more humane side--

Begging for his life.

Explaining we're all here to enjoy the game--

Speak for yourself.

And there's no reason for anyone to get angry or hurt.

Especially not Hog himself.

And let me say this--

if there is a sportsmanship award,

my vote goes to Hog Ellis.

And, oh, there's the other half of the voodoo magic brothers,

Taka Tanaka.

: Taka! Taka! Taka!

: Taka! Taka!

You're all nuts. You know that?

Every last one of you.

Well, it's an aura thing,

which can only be appreciated

by those of an enlightened nature.

Yeah, it doesn't hurt

if you're a little tweaked upstairs.

And don't even try and tell me

you can see with that thing on.

Now Tanaka takes a couple of practice cuts

and steps up to the plate.

Taka drives one through the infield,

and the Buzz have another base hit.

Come on, you guys are killing me!

What are you looking at, huh?

What are you smirkin' at?

Are you smirkin' at me?

What is this, some kind of conspiracy?

You, I can't even look at you, you waste of time.

Hit the showers, you pig.

Thank you.

Oh, yeah! All right!

Let's go.

Come on, let's go.

What's up?

You, uh, you want me to bunt?

Sacrifice Taka

will get him into scoring position.

I want you to go downtown.

Downtown?

I want you to hit the ball into another zip code.

Yes, sir.

Yes, sir.

Gonna sacrifice?

I told him to swing for the fence.

You did what?

You heard me.

You never tell a hitter to swing for the fence.

I couldn't help myself.

Play ball!

Strike!

Come on, buddy.

Swing freeze. Ha ha.

Come on. Come on, come on.

Come on, buddy, dig in there.

Get the next one. Let's go.

Oh, I got it! I got it! I got it!

Good try, buddy. Good try.

You can do this.

You can do this.

You can do this.

It's gone.

Come on, baby. Come on.

It's gone!

That is it. That is all she wrote.

The fat lady is on her way to the field.

What a perfect end to a fantastic season.

Hey, let's be friends. No.

Come on. Give me a little hug.

No! No. Come on.

No! Stay away! One little hug.

I'm a married man. Aw, come on,

at least let me carry you downstairs.

That's it.

It's over.

I'm not a Pirate, I'm not a Yankee,

I'm not even a Red Sock.

I am a damn Buzz.

Thank you.

A bumblebee.

Yeah, that's what I am, a Buzz.

As far as I'm concerned, a deal's a deal.

Besides, I know how long you've waited

to get to the major leagues,

and I know...

that it has been a lifelong dream.

Boy, I never thought I'd say this, but...

I'm gonna have to pass.

I'm talkin' about a job with the Twins here, Gus.

I got a lot of information

I'd like to pass on to young ballplayers.

That's where I belong,

and that's what I want to do.

You wanna manage a minor league team?

That's right.

I wanna stick with the Buzz, if it's, uh, ok with you.

Of course, but--

But, uh...thanks.

Your attention, please.

Flight 63 to Miami is now boarding at gate 28.

Oh, that's us.

Wait a minute.

where are you guys goin'?

It's called a honeymoon.

Wave bye-bye.

Hey, that's great. Congratulations.

Hey, I don't have any plans.

You mind if I come along?

And he hits it, and it's going, going...

could be. It is!

A home run!