Original subtitles

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. -The best fans in base--?

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.

-What about the girls, man? -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 -- they prefer Raj?

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. -You ready to have some fun?

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.

-You 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. -"I like people." Really?

'Cause every stranger's just some asshole

you haven't met yet, son.

Just remember that.

-You know why I like people? -Why?

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.

-What are you doing? -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-- You know what?

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.

-Take care, okay? -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!