All language subtitles for Brockmire - 2x03 - Knuckleball [720p-AMZN-WEBRip-x264-GalaxyTV]

My goodness.

Oh, looks like we missed
the third out there.

Okay, well, Crawdaddys
have lost another one

in the Lone Star State.

That's Skip Clayton,
I'm Raj Datt.

And you're the best
fans in baseball.

Thanks, guys.

They're not even the best fans
in Southeast Louisiana.

I assumed that Raj is fired.
-Uh, nope.

I showed you this to illustrate
why he's beating you.

He...
At what?

This is the highest-testing tape
of the entire season.

It's called
the Fallon Effect.

If you're having fun,
the viewers are having fun.

The grin-fucker
didn't even call the game.

I mean, what was
the final score?

No one cares
about numbers.

Do you wanna watch
Neil Degrasse Tyson

explain science
to Jimmy Fallon

or do you wanna watch them

pass Ping-Pong balls
into each other's mouths?

Neither.

What, that's funny,
because the Ping-Pong ball

is slightly too large?
Is that it?

How many
they have going?

I'm imagining four.

It's actually
pretty great.

The reason we came,
is we're looking for ways

to close the gap
between us and Raj.

Raj is the kind of guy people
wanna have a beer with

and you --
you're a loaded gun

that could go off
at any time.

Well, America loves a loaded
gun, especially the kids.

Okay, bottom line,

if you wanna
get back into the race,

you've got to figure
out a way

to have more fun
in the booth.

Well, I'm not gonna shuck it
and jive it in there

like some kind of
a Stepin Fetchit.

I am nobody's
house broadcaster.

Jesus Christ, Jim!

Please stop trying to
compare your struggles

to the black experience.

There are a lot
of parallels, Charles.

-No, there really are not.
-Yeah. Yes, there are.

No.
Now I see
why he brings you.

Can I just deal with you
from now on?

Yeah, that'd probably
be for the best.

And you know what?

Jim would be happy
to be more likeable.

Excuse me, I would not.

It is against
my principles.

Well, that is up to you,

but the organization
wants a Fallon.

And Fallon
would screw a pig

while lip-syncing
with Mussolini

if his bosses
told him to.

This is not the age
for principles.

Thank you.

Was it me or was she
a little bit mean

about Jimmy Fallon?

I mean, you don't get
angry at Fredo

because
he can't fire a gun.

Well, the Atlanta job is
slipping through my fingers.

And my best friend

is moving back
to the Dominican Republic.

Goddamn it, these dark,
dark times.

Well, only one thing
we can do.

Have one final
blow-out weekend

that you and I will
never, ever forget.

Brockmire,
this is a nice bar.

Man, you're gonna
get us kicked out.

Kicked out?
Kicked out?

Look around, man.
Look around here.

Watch. Boom!

See? This is New Orleans,
my friend.

This is where the Devil comes
to get his dick sucked.

Every carnal pleasure
was invented

right here in this city.

Movie theaters,
cocktails, cotton candy,

the walking handjob.

I never heard of that.

What, you think those streets
out there are slick

just from booze
and vomit?

Unh-unh.

In my heart, I've always
lived here in New Orleans.

It just took actually moving
here for me to realize that.

Uribe is gonna miss
New Orleans.

Especially
my lady friend Polly.

Jesus, again with her?

She's a Classics professor
from Tulane.

I've never heard you go on
like this about a woman, Pedro.

Oh, you've never met
anybody like her, man.

Did you know that she's doing
the new translation

of the "Iliad"?

That ass, man, that claps
like, bah, bah, bah!

And she believes in
a non-monogamy lifestyle.

Really? We never did finish
that four-way

that we started back
in Morristown.

You know what can make this
dream come true is Twitter.

We love Twitterers.

"Who wants to have sex
with me

and my best friend,

hashtag Brockmire,
hashtag..."

"Hashtag four-way."

Whoo!
I just got to catch my breath.

Just...just a quick second here.

Me, too, man.

Uribe went down on the big
one for so long,

I started to pass out.

Then Uribe start thinking
about my kids.

And I was like, no,
no, no, no, no.

You're not gonna die
like this, man.

Get up.

Thought about your kids

when you were going down
on a woman, did you?

Well, it's like my --
my "me" time to think.

I just go blank.

I get lost in a sea
of blackness and warmth.

It's like going back
into the womb.

That's deep, man.

Viagra.

Yeah, Goddamn Viagra.

That's my bad.

We shouldn't have taken
three, Goddamn it.

I just didn't want us
to embarrass ourselves.

They were so young
and fricking eager.

Well, we did it, man.

You think they've even
realized that we're gone?

My God.

Orgies are officially
a young man's game.

So is baseball, man.

I cannot hit it
like I used to.

I cannot hit it
like I used to.

We getting too old
for this shit?

I mean, that jack-ass Raj
was still swimming around

in his daddy's balls

when I was halfway done
with my career.

But he just passed me
by like

I was some kind of
a meth-head hitchhiking

by the side of the road.

Oh, yeah, papi.

Our best years
are behind us, mi amigo.

I just -- I can't accept
the fact that it's over.

I mean, who are we
if we're not baseball men?

Now, I can't bat.

I can't field.

I can't throw.

Except for
the knuckleball, man.

Uribe's got
a killer knuckleball.

Bullshit,
killer knuckleball.

I saw you fingering
that groupie up there.

You've got an arm
like spaghetti, that's
what you've got.

Knuckleball is not
about strength, man.

It's about
pushing the ball

from the fingertips
to the mitt.

Well, this I got to see.

Come on, we're going
to the stadium.

I wanna see
this knuckleball.

-Ah, shit.

Well, maybe Charles
is interested.

Charles?

Please leave me alone.

I got to tell you,
I'm impressed

you get any work at all
done around here.

If I couldn't do work in the
same room as people having sex,

we wouldn't have a podcast.

He's right.
We wouldn't.

All right, I got
your number now, Pedro.

Come on, one more.

Holy shit, man.

That thing dropped
like 3 feet.

Pedro, this knuckleball,
this is your ticket back

to the major leagues.

Nah, man.

I had a good run
and it's over.

I'm not gonna go as a joke
in the minors, man.

Let me just talk to the manager.
All right? He owes me a favor.

Let me see
what I can do here.

Pedro, just don't leave.

Please.

You know what, man?
Let's talk to him.

Well, they're not gonna be here
for a couple of hours yet.

But I do know
this lovely little bar

with a terrific
sunrise happy hour.

Brockmire?

Man, that hurts.

Oh, shit, that's
a very good point.

We should probably knock out
these boners.

All right, you take right field,
I'll take left field.

Whoa, whoa, Brockmire?

Don't be a bitch, man.
On the mound, back-to-back.

-No.

Brockmire just trying
to find a rhythm.

Trying not to be distracted
by the strange noises

coming from
Pedro Uribe.

What are you doing there?

I -- I can't hear
myself whack.

-Oh! That was fast.

My goodness.

The man
knows what he likes.

Brockmire still
struggling mightily.

Well, don't grip me.
I'll never get this done.

Let me get
this straight.

You show up to my field
smelling like piss...

Not my piss.

I sat in somebody else's
piss at the bar.

...expecting a favor?

Eat shit, Brockmire.

Leland, you had sex with
my wife back in Kansas City.

Now, I don't care about that.

You're on a long list.
It's a real short life.

But you know who might care,

is your lovely
and charming wife, Doreen.

You're blackmailing me.

No, douchebag.

I'm just trying to use leverage
to get you to witness

this tremendous display
of athleticism.

You will not be sorry.

Jesus,
he looks like shit.

Yeah, well, so does Mami
in the morning.

Just watch!

All right,
now, you got this.

Uribe feel like
a joke, man.

No, no, that's the Viagra
come-down talking.

Then why is the mascot
making fun of me?

Don't pay any attention
to that thing, all right.

There's not even
a human being in there.

It's just a golem
that formed itself

out of shit and bile.

Now, come on.
We are right where we belong.

We are baseball men.

Let's go.

**

How is Doreen, anyway?

She's fine.

She still into those
Hummel figurines?

**

Oh, ho ho.

**

Damn!
That was a nice one.

It drops like three feet.

**

Yeah!

So there's
an open roster spot,

since Peplowski's
on paternity.

I'll talk to the GM,
but I think

it makes sense for us
to give you a shot.

Yeah, Daddy!
Yes!

Thank you, Leland.
Yeah!

Goddamn it, what is this?

Somebody squirted goop
all over the mound.

-Oh.
-Oh, wow.

Like, probably just rub it
in there with your shoe.

-Ugh.
-Yeah, get -- get it

on your shoe real good.
-Hey!

Got to find
my knuckleball, Charles.

I got
to find the magic trick

that's gonna
keep me in the game.

Now, Pedro was easy.

His knuckleball was --
well, it was a knuckleball.

Mine's gonna be harder
to find, but that's all right.

Got an encyclopedic
knowledge of the game

and a nearly
photographic memory.

If anybody can do this,
anybody at all...

Charles:
I figured it out.

Thank you, God,
'cause I had nothing.

According
to Whitney's numbers,

everyone prefers Raj
to you across all demos.

All demos?
Really?

So, elderly Korean ladies,
they

Nearly 2-to-1.

Except from the eighth
and ninth innings

when they prefer you
to him.

Naturally.

You see, because that is
the culmination

of a narrative that I have --
-Nobody cares about that.

It's when
you're finally drunk.

Two and a half hours
into the game,

those Belgian beers start
kicking in and you're loose.

By banning liquor
in the booth,

they've accidently
taken out

the one thing that
makes you special.

Are you saying what
I think you're saying?

This polling proves
it scientifically.

You're more likable
when you're drunk.

Those are the words
that in his heart,

every alcoholic
longs to be true.

Well, I still don't see
how this is gonna work.

I mean, if Whitney catches me
drinking in the booth,

she's gonna shit-can me
and I mean in a hurry.

That's why
we start every game

with a tall glass
of iced tea.

Well, Goddamn it, Charles.
We've been over this.

The ice is gonna
water down the rye

and then I might
as well be drinking

blended whiskey like some
kind of a garbage person.

The ice is plastic.

And when you run out of that,
you'll be able to enjoy

the rest of the whiskey
in the booth.

What? I don't see
anything. Where?

Exactly.
It's hidden.

Here.
Give this a try.

Ooh.

The snozzberries taste
like snozzberries.

Yeah.

Ooh.

Jim:
Oh, look at that young man.

My goodness,
children are adorable.

They're just like tiny,
little dumb people, aren't they?

They are.

I'm gonna go out on a limb,

I'm gonna say something
a little controversial,

I find children amusing.

Sue me, go ahead, folks.

Causewell slashes one foul.

Oh, that hit a bird

and it bounces
back into fair territory.

Oh, I got to --

I got to check the rule book
on this one, folks.

That's fair ball, fair ball.

Oh, they got me
on the dance cam.

Ho-ho.

**

Whoo!
Oh!

This last week
has been impressive.

You really shucked and jived
your way back into things.

Congrats.

Well...

I couldn't have done it
without the help of...

well,
my own good instincts.

-You are such a dick.
-Shush.

You and Raj
are neck-and-neck,

so I think the best way
to see who pulls ahead

is to have you call
a game together.

Oh, I don't do
a two-man booth.

You do now.
Raj?!

Oh, yeah!

Player two has
entered the game!

-That's funny.

Oh, I'm -- I'm sorry.
This is a nervous tick.

And I'm feeling...

very...

...nervous.

I don't like this.
It's gross and dangerous.

Yeah, well, so am I.

Look,
it's the only way, okay?

I have to be drunk
and Raj will catch me

if I try to sneak
anything in the booth.

All right, well,
I soaked this tampon

with enough rye
to get you drunk,

but not to kill you...
I think.

Math was never
my strongest subject.

I don't know how much you weigh
and let's not forget,

I'm a high school dropout.

Better be the good stuff,
Charles,

'cause my asshole,
it can tell the difference.

Wait, maybe we should
go to the bathroom.

And it's in.
-I have lived a life, my friend.

Now, how long do you suppose
before this

takes effect, because...?

Ooh!

Ow! Ow! Ow!

No, no, it's good.
It's good, it's good.

Mmm!

Oh, yeah.

Oh, that's good stuff.
-Let's...

-No, no, I need a minute.
-Okay.

I'll catch up.

Ooh-hoo!

All right, it's gonna be
a good day.

I think maybe we should set
some ground rules

before the game starts.

-That's such a good idea.
-It'll make things easier.

Charles?

Chuck, my man,
what is this?

Those are ground rules.

Okay.
Let's see...

"Alternate innings,"
great.

"Raj is prohibited
from pandering."

What's that mean?

It means, none of this
best fans in baseball shit.

That's not pandering.

These fans have been
great to me.

I like them.
I like people.

-Mm-hmm.

Really? Boy, I think
I liked you better

when I thought you were
a fake piece of shit.

No, 'cause now I see that
you're an actual piece of shit.

-Right.

'Cause every stranger's
just some asshole

you haven't met yet, son.

Just remember that.

Because I bring the best
out in them.

Oh.

And near as I can tell,
that is a valuable skill

to have for a uniquely
attractive person

who's good on TV.

You see, I'm not
gonna stop with baseball.

I'm not even gonna
stop with sports.

I am constructing
a media empire

built on sincerity
and affability.

In 10 years,
I will be everywhere.

Holy shit,
I've met you before.

You're a brown Joe Buck.

Ha ha ha. No.

Joe Buck is a white me.

Welcome,
ladies and gentlemen!

I'm Raj Datt joined
by Jim Brockmire here

on this beautiful
summer afternoon,

to bring you baseball.

Tough day for Tisdale,

as he's on the hook
for all 12 runs.

-I'm thirsty.

And mercifully, Leland is
bringing in a new pitcher,

number 69, Pedro Uribe.

Pedro "The Grand Slam King"
Uribe,

is mounting a comeback
as a knuckleball pitcher

at the tender age of 33,

which is an obvious lie.

Uribe inherits a 1-0 count
from Tisdale.

Ooh, that one
got away from him.

Easy take there
and that's a walk for Uribe.

An inauspicious start
for the veteran.

Hearly up to the plate.

Come on, Pedro.
You got this, man.

Wow.
Okay.

I'm gonna go out
on a limb here

and just call that
one a wild pitch.

Leland is approaching
the mound to chat with Uribe

and this comeback might be
over before it's begun.

Excuse me, buddy.

I know this is your inning
and everything, but that --

that happens to be
my friend down there,

so what say we just put
our differences aside

and try to make this the most
professional broadcast

that we can?

That's what I've been saying
since the be

Whatever.
I got you.

Jim, you knew Uribe

from your time together
in Morristown.

What do you think is going
through his head right now?

Well, I think he has
the weight of the world

on his shoulders.
It's just a random inning

in the middle
of a very long season,

but for Pedro Uribe,

this is the most important
pitch of his life.

See, he's just a farm boy
from the Dominican Republic,

who right now,
is hanging onto the game

by the very fingernails
that he uses to throw

that knuckleball
down there.

Jim, what do you think
has been Uribe's issue so far?

You know, Raj,
it could be nothing.

I mean, the truth is,
a knuckleball pitcher

has very little control
over where the ball goes.

There's no spin
on the pitch.

Its movement is determined
by random air currents

blowing the ball
this way and that.

Its final location is often

as much a surprise
to the pitcher

as it is to the batter,
thus by its very nature,

every single
knuckleball thrown

is just an act
of pure hope and, boy,

this next one is
no exception, folks.

Ooh. All right, well,
let's see what he's got.

**

**

Strike one.

And Uribe might've
finally found something.

Oh!
Strike two!

-Strike three!
-Whoo!

And Uribe comes back
on Hearly to strike him

out on three of the nastiest
pitches you will ever see.

Still a little life left
in the old farm boy, eh, Raj?

You're telling me.

Yeah! Ha ha!

My goodness.
My goodness.

Well, it's not every crowd
that gives a standing ovation

after
an eight-run home loss,

but that is the kind of
pitching performance

that Pedro Uribe
has put on here today.

6 innings, 12 strike-outs,
no runs.

Raj, take us home.

My pleasure.

That's Jim Brockmire,
I'm Raj Datt,

and you are the best fans
in baseball.

Brockmire.

Hey.

You feel good?

Ohh!
Papi...

I wanna thank you for pushing
me to do this, man.

Oh...

It is the perfect way
to leave on top.

Where are you going?

After what you just
showed out there,

it's only a matter of time

before you're back
in the bigs.

Papi, Uribe already been
to the big league, man.

Pero mi amor, Polly,
man, that's new.

And who knows if that
will ever happen again.

See, a choice between
love and work

is not
a choice at all, man.

It's not.

So Uribe is gonna
go with her

to her fellowship
at Cornell.

Are you serious?

It takes a real man

to love a smart and strong
woman like her.

Uribe is the realist
that have ever lived.

That's true, that's true.
But co-- Wait.

Just, no, wait a second.
-Okay, papi.

I'm going to
miss you, man.

But I got to do this.

Thank you, man.

Thank you.

-Man.

Oh.

Polly.

Hi.
I know.

Just, please,
let me talk.

Jules, I'm sorry.
I'm so sorry.

I -- I left because I was
selfish and I was stupid

and I had absolutely no idea
what I was giving up.

The thing is, I'm lonely
all of the time now.

I mean, I never used
to get lonely.

I don't think I realized
how good my life could be

until you were in it.

Jules, I know
I don't deserve it.

Please give me
another chance, please.

I need you in my life.
Please.

Let me -- let me show you
how good that I can be.

Okay,
can you back up a bit?

To which part?

No, I mean, back up.

You mean like...?

You know, I had to pay
for a second airline ticket

to bring this
basket with me!

Enjoy.

Stupid dog!
Shut up!