Original subtitles

Mm-hmm.

A little bit of magic time.

I feel it.

Yes, sir.

Terrific shot! I'm in the goddamn woods again.

Goddamn.

Damn game.

I spend more time in the trees than the squirrels.

Wizard Two? Why not?

Uh-oh.

Not again.

I've had five heart attacks in the last ten years.

My first was on a golf course in South Carolina.

It wasn't all that bad.

A couple of doglegs that were more dog than leg, but I-I'd- all in all, it was playable.

Assuming, of course, you didn't die on the second hole.

The second coronary was at Augusta, where they had the Masters.

Went down right on the first fair way.

It was a good thing, too, 'cause those greens probably would have been the end of many way.

My wife used to ask me, before she passed on,

why do I play a game that seems destined to kill me?

It all started back in 1928...

when I was just a youngster in Savannah, Georgia.

Jones and Hagen are really goin' at it.

- They're like neck-and-neck all the time. - Nuts.

- Was it 350? - Nah. More like 400 with the roll.

I don't care how good Jones and Hagen are.

Junuh could've beat 'em both with his eyes closed.

Junuh won that thing three times in a row.

Now when I was growin' up, every town had its heroes,

and ours was Rannulph Junuh, an athlete who was a born winner.

Well, I wanted to be just like him.

Ladies and gentlemen, Junuh has the most difficult shot in the history of golf.

He must sink this shot from 110 yards to win the championship.

He steps up to the ball.

The crowd is hushed in anticipation.

Can he make this miracle shot? And he swings!

- Fore! Watch your heads!

Now I'd never seen him play myself, since it was before I was born,

but it was said that Junuh had been on track to becomin' the greatest golfer...

this country had ever seen.

Titanic off the tee.

Approach shots which fell to earth, as Sam Snead once put it,

"like a butterfly with sore feet. "

He won just about everything.

But even he was the first to say that his most significant victory...

was winnin' the heart of Adele Invergordon,

daughter of the wealthiest man in Savannah.

But fate plays funny tricks.

# The Yanks are coming The drumsrum-tumming everywhere#

It was a patriotic call to arms to fight "the war to end all wars. "

Junuh and everyone else in town believed it was his destiny...

to lead the young men of Savannah in to battle.

# Till it's over over there##

#How ya gonna keep 'em away from Broadway#

#Jazzin' around##

It was to be his crowning glory.

But nothing could have prepared him or anyone...

for the shock and sorrow of what was to come.

- Positions. Get ready. - Ready, Captain.

- Positions. Prepare to advance. - Ready, sir.

Advance!

Confused, broken...

and unable to face return to a hero's welcome,

Junuh just disappeared,

hopin' to forget...

and to be forgotten.

But Adele, bein' a woman of the South,

had survived worse than desertion.

And she moved on with her life,

dedicatin' herself to her father's dream.

What we have here is the most magnificent golf resort on the face of God's good earth,

and I am buildin' it right here in Savannah.

Krewe Island, legacy to my sweet Adele.

And we'd like to use all of you as our main suppliers.

I was ten years old when Junuh came home.

Stop!

Less than a year later, the Great Depression that swept the nation...

hit Savannah.

Jobs were lost, stores and banks were shut for good.

And John Invergordon, havin' spent his last dime on his great dream,

opened Krewe Island on what should have been a glorious spring day.

#My consolation when blue#

#So just supposing that you##

- It might not have been a shot heard round the world, - Oh, Daddy!

but it sure reached every nook and cranny in Savannah.

I'll be putting some doors and closets in the parlor.

With any luck, we could have some boarders within a few weeks.

Hardy, you think you can share your room with Cara Mae?

What about the store?

Oh, Jesus.

I've died and gone to hell.

It's not as though you got a choice, Adele.

Your Krewe Island golf resort is dead and gone.

- You've got the gumption of a corn fritter, Neskaloosa. - My gumption is not the subject.

Well, then what is the subject, gentlemen? Huh?

If it's your offer to take Krewe Island for one-tenth of what my father spent-

You are lucky to be gettin' a dime on the dollar, Adele.

Just so you gentlemen can turn right around and resell it...

to some Carolina paper mill for a tidy profit?

The fact that you've most likely got the deal in your pocket already is not my problem.

Maybe we should come back when the shock of your father's passing...

isn't so- so- Oh, God.

Don't bother. I'm not sellin'.

You got a stack of debts that'd fill every storage bay in the Cotton Exchange-

And I intend to pay them off.

- In time. - With what? Ball tokens?

With money people gonna spend once they know that this is the premier resort in the South.

Did I miss somethin'? Did I? Or are we not in the midst of a great depression?

There's still people with money, Neskaloosa, and I'm gonna make sure they know about Krewe.

But how exactly do you intend to accomplish that?

- How? - Well, how?

How? I'll tell you how.

I'm gonna have the greatest exhibition match ever held...

on the greatest golf course ever built.

Bobby Jones... - Bobby Jones?

- will be playin' Walter Hagen... - Walter Hagen?

- for the grand prize of $10,000. - $10,000?

- You can't be serious, Adele. - $10,000 for one weekend?

Well,

I'd make it more, gentlemen,

but that's just about all I believe I can raise...

if I sell everything I own...

on this earth.

Except, of course, Krewe Island.

Bobby Jones and Walter Hagen are comin' to Krewe Island?

Playin' an exhibition match for ten grand?

That's correct.

They don't know it yet, but that's exactly what they'll be doin'.

Have you gone totally off your rocker?

Nobody has the right to call Krewe Island "Invergordon's Folly. "

Nobody. Good day, gentlemen.

Adele!

Nobody holds your father responsible for this depression, Adele!

You're a damn fool, Adele!

Save your breath, Judge. She'll sell to us.

You really think Bobby Jones and Walter Hagen are gonna come to Krewe Island...

just 'cause Adele Invergordon wants 'em to?

All four golf championships in a single year.

The Grand Slam. Simply amazing.

I don't believe that's ever been done before in the history of golf, has it?

Well, no, it, uh- It, uh-

It just takes my breath away.

You don't impress me as someone who tends to lose her breath, Miss Invergordon.

Did you know, Mr. Jones, that reprobate Mr. Walter Hagen-

who I hear spends his every minute chasin' after women-

has been approached about playin' in next's month's $10,000 Krewe Island match?

No, I didn't.

But I'm not clear how this is an urgent matter for the American Red Cross.

- Did I say that? - At the front door.

May I speak candidly, Mr. Jones?

I wish you would.

I've come here today to see you because to the South, you are a hero.

They see you as a young god.

brave, valiant, glorious.

One of the greatest golfers in the world today.

I would say the greatest golfer in the world today...

were it not for that unfortunate incident last year when that profligate, Mr. Hagen,

whupped you by 12 strokes on your very own course.

You say he's been invited to play at Krewe Island next month?

She has a remarkable talent, Mr. Hagen.

I was the one who hit the ball.

I wonder if you might excuse us for just a couple of minutes, Anna Mae?

It won't be long.

A charming woman, Mr. Hagen. Although she gave me quite a fright for a moment there.

With so much weight distributed in front, I'd have sworn she'd topple back to the floor...

before she ever got to her knees.

I do admire a man with your...

- vitality. - Oh?

The South is in such an unfortunate place these days, and Savannah most of all.

The memories of our disastrous defeat in the War Between the States still linger,

and with them, the defeated, uncertain men who returned lacking the vigor...

- we woman normally associate with your gender. - Hmm.

And now, sadly, here is Savannah,

teeming with the most attractive young women,

and nobody, absolutely nobody...

- to satisfy them. - Hmm.

Except for, perhaps, Bobby Jones, who will be playing in our Krewe Island tournament.

So he says, "It don't matter what it is. It won't hurt you.

You just pop one in your mouth, and you chew!"

I'm pleased to announce that Mr. Bobby Jones and Mr. Walter Hagen...

have accepted my golfin' invitation,

with enthusiasm.

This, of course, is Miss Adele Invergordon's...

commitment to her father's dream, possibly the most-

Not one to concede defeat easily,

Neskaloosa engineered a local uprising against the tournament.

And I'm sure that you boys would think I've been drinkin' too much blackjack tea.

'Course, these are our streets that they're gonna be parkin' in.

They will tax the limits of our constabulary-

Do you think one of them damn rich Yankees...

gives a hoot about Savannah or anybody in it?

- Now, now, now, now, now.

Now, we need the Yankee,

but we also need someone from Savannah...

in the match, one of us,

givin' Jones and Hagen area run for their money.

Then they'll know what we're made of.

We need someone from Savannah playin' in our tournament!

What about Dougal McDermott? He'd turn a trick or two.

He's a Scot. The only time he comes into town is to get drunk.

Bobby Jones is from Atlanta. - I said, Savannah!

The South. There a I South.

Neskaloosa knew the golden rule of politics better than anyone.

If you can't beat 'em, lead 'em.

All right, all right. Hold it, hold it! Hold it, everyone!

There's one person we're forgettin'.

We all know there's one man who hits gargantuan drives off the tee...

and has a lock picker's touch around the greens.

Savannah's own Ender by "Cottonmouth" Conyngham.

- Wait a minute! He's 80 years old!

He'd need one caddie to carry his golf clubs...

and two to carry him!

- Junuh could whip 'em both. - You're off your rocker.

Junuh couldn't whip a dead possum in a gunnysack.

- That ain't true. - Oh, yeah?

- What about Captain Junuh? - Who?

Captain Junuh.

My dad says he's the greatest golfer Savannah ever had.

- Hardy. - Well, it's true.

You must've said it a hundred times.

Sit down, son. - The boy's got a point.

- Junuh's born and bred Savannah. - Exactly!

And this is the point! - I heard he just disappeared.

Forget Rannulph Junuh, assumin' you can locate his whereabouts.

I hear he's so far gone, he wouldn't know a putter from a pussy willow.

I know where to find him.

You find him, Hardy, and we will be there.

Fly, lad, with winged sandals on your feet!

If I live to be a thousand, which doesn't seem likely,

I'll never know where I got the courage to call out like that.

But once I did, I wasn't backin' down.

This could've been the stupidest idea I've ever had.

Captain Junuh?

Captain Junuh?

This is Hardy Greaves, sir.

Get outta here with that.

Hey, just make sure you guys save some of that money for me.

Whoa-ho-ho! What have we here?

Well, well.

Look like we got a new card player, gents.

It's all right, boy. There's no need to be scared.

I ain't scared.

I've seen men drunk plenty of times.

- Well, what do they look like? - Well, they ain't much to look at.

At least not so much as they seem to think it is. But it don't scare me none.

Gentlemen, we may be lookin' at the only male in Chatham County...

who isn't completely full of shit.

What's your name, son?

Uh, Hardy. Hardy Greaves.

- You Frank Greaves' boy? - Yes, sir.

What brings you here, Hardy?

Maybe I'd better come back when you're not so busy.

Busy? I thought you were gonna say drunk.

But I'm not busy and I'm not drunk.

Fact is, there ain't enough whiskey in the state of Georgia to get me drunk enough.

Well, how drunk is drunk enough,

�Captain Junuh? - Whoo.

Good question, Hardy. Come on over here, take seat.

I'll tell you how drunk drunk enough is.

Aaron, you think you can find the young man a bottle of Nehi?

Expect I could. Just as long as I takes my money with me.

Now, the question on the table...

is how drunk is drunk enough?

And the answer is that it's all a matter of brain cells.

- Brain cells? - That's right, Hardy.

You see, every drink of liquor you take kills a thousand brain cells.

But that doesn't much matter, 'cause we got billions more.

And first the sadness cells die,

So you smile real big.

And then the quiet cells go,

so you just say everything real loud for no reason at all.

But that's okay, because the stupid cells go next,

- so everything you say is real smart.

And finally... come the memory cells.

These are tough sons of bitches to kill.

Well, there's a golf match out at Krewe Island...

between Bobby Jones and Walter Hagen,

and there was a meeting to see who would stand up for Savannah in the match,

so I said you would.

That's why I'm here, so you can beat Bobby Jones and Walter Hagen.

Hell, I'm a whole lot drunker than I thought.

- I'll caddie for ya. - You gonna caddie for me?

- Against Bobby Jones and Walter Hagen? - Yes, sir!

- I'll caddie for you too. - Aaron will carry the clubs.

- I'll carry the balls. - And I'll carry them little wooden tees!

And I'll carry Junuh!

I wasn't jokin'!

I heard my dad tell how you won every golf tournament there ever was in the South.

And how you hit a drive so long...

that they made you stop playin' for 20 minutes just to measure it for a record.

And how you used to swing righty,

but you was in the woods once by this tree, and there was no room to swing righty,

so you borrowed somebody's lefty club...

and hit the ball six inches from the hole.

It's time for you to go home, Hardy.

I ain't goin'.

Well, suit yourself, 'cause I'm goin' to bed.

Night, gentlemen.

- What the hell you doin' in my house? - Trespassin', Junuh.

But on a matter of great importance- to no less than Savannah herself.

Some delegate you got there. Isn't it a little past his bedtime?

Isaiah 11:6: "And a little child shall lead them. "

This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, Junuh.

- So what's in it for you? - Pride.

- The great city of Savannah, so close to my heart. - So close to all our hearts.

Well, you're wastin' your time. I'm not playin'.

Why is that?

I lost my swing.

Then find it. Goddamn it!

Because you're playin'! That's all there is to it! Savannah needs you, Junuh!

- Why don't you get Dougal McDermott? He'll play. - Balls!

We don't need some sawed-off Scotsman poopin' drives out 40 yards...

in Jones' and Hagen's wake.

We need a man with thunder in his fist,

a hero to boom that pill out past those golfin' gods!

- We need a knight. - You are our gentle-born chevalier.

That's one hell of a speech, fellas.

I don't take no for an answer.

Well, you're gonna have to, 'cause I'm not playin'.

Now get out.

Somethin' you picked up on your travels?

He's not mine.

He's a little young for a drinking companion, don't you think?

So, Adele, what can I do for you?

- I think you know why I'm here, Junuh. - I do.

A little late to be out lookin' for romance, though, isn't it?

Would that do it, Junuh?

Would you play in the match if I had sex with you?

Yeah, that would do it.

Well, that's good, Junuh.

Considering how in frequently we've seen each other since you've been back,

I thought this was gonna be more difficult.

Now, where would you like to do it?

Right here is fine.

Don't worry about him. He's out like a light.

Take an earthquake to wake him up.

For an earthquake, you'd have to play many more tournaments at Krewe Island...

and do quite well at them.

Well,

how do you suggest we begin?

Shall I just run and jump on you,

or would you like some preliminary romancin'?

- Romancin' sounds good. - Very well, then.

Here's one short kiss.

It is, I'm afraid, all the romancin' I have in me at this time.

I do hope I haven't given the impression that I'm cryin' over us, Junuh,

because I'm not.

You're not?

No, I'm not.

I'm cryin' over Savannah.

Savannah?

Over her pain and the pain of her people.

- You're in tears over Savannah? - I am.

I truly am.

Then who'd you take your clothes off for?

Chattanooga?

Well.

This certainly has been a colossal waste of time.

I didn't ask you to come here.

No, you certainly did not, Junuh.

You know, if you ever get tired of sittin' around and feelin' sorry for yourself,

a little golf might just do you some good.

I've lost my swing, Adele.

Really?

Where'd it go?

You can open your eyes now, Hardy.

Your education is over.

Go on home now.

Jesus.

- Who's that? - Just me.

Just a man tryin' to find somewhere to rest his tired feet,

takin' in some of God's glories.

- My, what a night. - I could've killed you out there.

Oh, no, sir.

See, I set myself directly in front of you.

Judgin' by how you was hittin' them balls, I figured that's where I'd be out of harm's way.

Excuse me, sir.

They say you can tell a player by his grip.

If you want some food or somethin', you can go on into the house, help yourself.

Oh, thank you kindly, sir.

Yeah.

Yeah, I always felt a man's grip on his club...

is just like a man's grip on his world.

- Look, is there somethin' you want? - Five dollars guaranteed.

Guaranteed for what?

Well, there's a big match comin' up with Mr. Jones and Mr. Hagen.

Fella gonna be needin' a caddie.

You a caddie?

Well, that depends. You a golfer?

Well, I don't need a caddie 'cause I'm not playin'.

I don't play anymore at all.

Oh. Well, thank you, sir.

- I'll take you up on that food you offered me. - All right.

- Evenin', sir. - Mm-hmm.

Don't make no sense, is all.

Man say he don't play no golf, yet he out here this shade of night,

hittin' balls off into dark where he can't even see 'em.

Yep, well, I've done things that made less sense.

As we all have.

For $5 guaranteed, I'm offerin' you my caddie services.

For $5?

You know the winner gets 10,000, and the caddie's cut is 10% of that.

- So that's $1,000. - I'll take $5 guaranteed.

- You don't want $1,000? - You done already said you ain't even playin'.

And Lord knows how awful you're gonna look if you do.

So $5 guaranteed sounds pretty good from where I'm sittin'.

Yeah, the rhythm of the game just like the rhythm of life.

Here.

Here!

- Oh, no, sir, I don't- - Go on.

Go ahead.

Well, thank you, sir.

You know, some folks say you should put the ball in - in the front of your stance.

Other folks say you should put-

You gonna hit the ball or are you gonna dance with it?

Actually, I'm kind of partial to dancin'. Me and this gal-

Hit the ball.

So, you're a golfer.

Uh, no, I don't play golf.

Give me that damn thing.

Here, uh- See, the trick is...

to find your swing.

What'd you say?

Well, you lost your swing.

We got to go find it.

Now, it's somewhere in the harmony of all that is-

Ooh.

All that was-

Ooh. All that will be.

- Whoa. - Ooo-eee!

I ain't seen a man hit a ball like that...

since the North-South Championship of 1916.

You know, they stopped play for 20 minutes to measure how far it went.

Bagger Vance the name.

Come on. Let's hit a few more.

And that, they say, is how Bagger Vance became Junuh's caddie.

Oh, yeah. One more just like that.

Just like that one there.

I'm tellin' you the truth, Wilbur Charles.

She was down to her panties and brassiere.

And you were in the room watchin' all the time?

You really think we're that stupid that we believe...

Miss Adele got down to her skivvies with you right in the room watching?

It's the God's honest truth, Eugene.

Scalp me, shrink my head, and roast it on the stake...

if that ain't exactly what happened.

She thought I was asleep the whole time.

And that ain't all. Junuh's gonna play.

He said that?

Not in so many words, but- Hey, look over there.

- Ain't that Miss Adele now across the street? - Where? Where?

She just went into Louder's Notions. I could swear it's her.

I'd know that figure anywhere.

Well, as far as Junuh is concerned, I guess that's just about it.

If we don't have someone from Savannah, I will not support this match.

- All right.

I'll play in your damn golf match.

I should've let you finish what you started.

Now I got nothin' at all to show for it.

Well, for the life of me, I have no idea what you're referrin' to.

- I can explain it if you like

- I don't believ that will be necessary!

God bless Savannah.

The day that Jones and Hagen arrived in Savannah...

was declared a holiday.

Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the first golf tournament-

That's O.B. Keeler.

He writes for the Atlanta Journal.

He goes wherever Bobby Jones goes.

And that's Walter Hagen's man, Spec Hammond.

They say Hagen won't play without him.

And that's Grant land Rice, the most powerful sports writer in the country.

And he's staying at our boarding house, because he's nobody's man.

Aah!

Mr. Robert Tyre Jones, Jr., of Atlanta, Georgia.

Mr. Jones has won 13 national championships,

including four U.S. Opens and five U.S. Amateurs.

He has also won all three British Opens in which he has played.

For the first time in history, last year...

he won the Grand Slam-

all four major golf championships in a single year!

But what is not well-known is that at the very same time...

he was winnin' all his championships,

Mr. Jones was earning a degree in engineering from Georgia Tech,

a degree in English Literature from Harvard,

and a law degree from Emory University here in Georgia,

all with distinction.

Mr. Walter Hagen-

Mr. Hagen has won 11 national championships,

includin' four British Opens and five PGA's.

And in one stretch,

Mr. Hagen won 22 straight professional championships.

That's work!

Mr. Rannulph Junuh-

Walter, I think we're the under dogs.

Born and bred in Savannah, Georgia!

Mr. - Mr. Junuh won the Georgia Amateur at the age of 16,

makin' him the youngest man to ever do so.

And until he left for the war, was considered...

the South's premier golfer.

Mr. Junuh returned from the war a hero,

decorated with the Medal of Honor...

for survivin' a deadly mission in which...

most-

Most- uh-

The rest of his company were tragically defeated.

Boy, makes you think twice about steppin' on his ball, doesn't it, Bobby?

Mr. Hagen.

Ladies and gentlemen, Bobby Jones, Walter Hagen...

and our very own Rannulph Junuh!

On behalf-

On behalf of the great city of Savannah-