Original subtitles

male narrator: For over 150 years,

the game of baseball has remained the same:

three strikes to an out, six outs to an inning,

four lines of 90 feet to make a diamond out of dirt,

and so, in a sport of infinite permutations

and bottomless statistics,

it is the moments we remember,

flashes of manmade miracles,

feats of heart-wrenching humanity.

- I might have...

been given a bad break,

but I've got an awful lot to live for.

narrator: The impossible brought into being.

- Way back in center field.

Way back, back.

It is--oh!

narrator: Babe Ruth calling his shot...

[stirring music]

Kirk Gibson making magic...

♪ ♪

- High fly ball into right field.

She is gone!

♪ ♪

narrator: And Homer Simpson... - Ooh!

narrator: Getting hit on the head.

This is the story of a simple man.

A godly man.

A man hungry for greatness and food.

A man who proved that with a little luck, a lot of faith,

and a freakishly large cranium,

even a small-town nuclear power plant employee

with big dreams and an even bigger belly

can make it to the National Baseball Hall of Fame.

It's the extraordinary tale of "Homer at the Bat."

♪ ♪

[crowd cheering]

- You know, people forget what it was like back in '92.

Here at home, Elizabeth Taylor had just gotten married

for the seventh time, I think.

- Married?

No!

- Rollerblade Barbie was literally catching fire

when you tried to make her skate.

Abroad, the Soviet Union had just collapsed.

Curling was winning raves as a new Olympic sport,

And a British court was deciding the legal difference

between a biscuit and a cake.

Apparently, over time, a biscuit gets softer,

while a cake gets harder as it ages.

Now, I think that's ridiculous,

because everyone knows biscuits get all stiff and crusty too,

but to say it was a weird and confusing time,

well, that understates it.

So, more than ever, America needed heroes,

and Springfield provided them.

narrator: Springfield was a sleepy town of 30,000,

full of clowns... - [cackling]

narrator: Drunks...

- Thanks for the lift.

narrator: And attempted murderers.

The settlement was founded by Jebediah Obadiah

Zachariah Jedediah Springfield,

a silver-tongued pirate

whose genitals had the honor of being crushed

by George Washington himself.

It was in 1796

when Springfield and his partner Shelbyville Manhattan

led a band of followers into the American frontier.

But the two men soon had a falling-out.

The disagreement: whether a community

should allow its citizens to marry their cousins.

- I--I thought that was the whole point of this journey.

- Absolutely not!

narrator: Shelbyville heartily endorsing the prospect,

with Springfield firmly against.

- What--what are you talking about, Shelbyville?

Why would we want to marry our cousins?

- 'Cause they're so attractive.

narrator: It was often said in Shelbyville's defense

that he had the more attractive cousins.

Alas, there was little to be done.

The great explorers parted ways,

establishing the separate twin cities

of Springfield and Shelbyville.

And though the towns' founders soon died

of bear attacks and diphtheria,

a rivalry was born.

- Springfield's a pretty cool place to live.

- Springfield sucks!

[tense music]

- Hey, stop talking bad about my town, man.

- Well, everyone knew that the Shelbyville

nuclear power plant team

would make it to the championship that year.

Shelbyville was basically the Yankees of Shelbyville.

But the Springfield nuclear power plant team...

- Look, I'm not afraid to say it.

Uh, we was in it for the beers.

- Okay, let's go over the ground rules.

You can't leave first until you chug a beer.

Any man scoring has to chug a beer.

You have to chug a beer

at the top of all odd-numbered innings.

Oh, and the fourth inning is the beer inning.

- Hey! We know how to play softball.

narrator: And yet, despite their unrivaled ability

to chug a beer,

few gave the Springfield power plant boys a chance.

[bat thwacks, crowd cheers]

[cheering, gunshots]

- The Bad News Bears would have beaten 'em.

The Cleveland Indians would have beaten them,

before the Wild Thing got his life all cleaned up.

A White Sox farm system with Michael Jordan batting cleanup

could take them down.

- You know, we have these unreasonable expectations

of our baseball heroes.

We want them to be good at life,

as well as good at baseball.

But Springfield? Jeez...

They were horrible at both.

- Anyone can be good at two things at once.

That's just called multitasking.

But it takes someone special

to be bad at two things at once.

That's so rare, there's not even a word for it.

- Homer, last year we were 2 and 28.

- Look, I know it wasn't our best season...

- Actually, it was.

- Well, this year, it's gonna be different.

- Oh, yeah? What makes you so damned sure?

- I have a secret weapon.

narrator: The Wonder Bat.

- He'd locked himself out of his house again.

You know, most people, I had to wrestle the keys

out of their hands when they left the bar,

but not Homer.

He always remembered to just forget 'em.

- He stopped at the Kwik-E-Mart on his way home.

He wanted one of those little cocktail umbrellas,

so I asked him if he was sure

he did not mean a normal umbrella,

since it was raining outside,

but he just said, "How fat do you think I am?"

- I warned him not to stay outside,

since there was a thunderstorm and all,

but he just goes, "Oh, yeah?

Talk to me when there's a lightning storm."

So I told him, "All right, look,

"just make sure you don't pick up

"any large pieces of sheet metal

or anything when you're out there."

And, uh, well, I think that's where he got the idea

to pick up the large piece of sheet metal.

What an idiot.

narrator: As Homer stood outside his house with nothing

but a highly conductive aluminum alloy

to shield him from the heavens,

divine intervention intervened.

[lightning rumbles, strikes]

- To be down there with sheet metal over his head

and right under a big tree,

not a lot of people would have done that,

but what did he get out of it? Wonder Bat.

- Apparently some lightning hits the tree or something,

and suddenly, Homer thinks the wood

is imbued with some sort of home run magic.

- Ah, yes, the old timber thaumaturgy transmogrification

via electrical inducement by a jovial ignoramus.

We, uh--we see this all the time.

- Everyone knows it doesn't matter which bat you use.

It's just superstition.

- The bat doesn't matter. - The bat doesn't matter.

- Yeah, but who are you gonna believe? Them or Homer?

- Them. Next question.

- Oh, definitely not Homer. No...

I--I'm going to have to go with them.

- Some people say there's no such thing as magic,

but those people aren't magicians.

Check it out, boys: my magic bat.

- That's it? - Yeah, I got a magic bat too.

- And I got an enchanted jockstrap.

- [blows raspberry] [laughter]

- Yeah, just watch.

narrator: Suddenly, the slugger from Springfield

couldn't miss.

- [grunts]

♪ ♪

- Ahh!

- You know, people would come up to him in the bar and say,

"Homer, since when do you hit home runs?"

And he'd just say, "There's a reason my name

ain't 'Pop-up Foul,' huh?" [chuckles]

- You know, when Homer was

hitting a home run every at-bat,

there was something going on that wasn't natural.

I thought it was more

supernatural than anything else.

- Yeah, it kind of changed everybody's perception

of baseball, you know? It became almost magical.

I mean, Homer Simpson was incredible.

narrator: Springfield's meteoric rise

through the standings was immortalized

by the game call of Homer's wife, Marge,

who spoke for every Springfieldianite

when she rolled her camcorder,

aimed it down from the bleachers,

and rapturously declared...

- And the next man wants to hit the ball too.

And he does.

And there he goes, off in that direction,

and everyone is happy.

- I was nine years old when I heard Marge make that call,

and even then, I remember thinking,

"It is about time a woman gets to tell it like it is."

- Next thing you know,

the Springfield nuclear power plant team

is headed to the city championship.

I couldn't believe my eyes,

and I didn't even have pinkeye at that time.

There was just one problem.

- Mr. Burns.

- Hyah! Hyah!

narrator: Mr. Burns was Montgomery Burns...

- [screams] - Excellent.

narrator: The irascible and antediluvian owner

of the Springfield nuclear power plant.

- [laughs, sneezes]

narrator: And de facto manager of its softball team.

A millionaire member of the Millionaire Club,

Mr. Burns was as surprised as anyone

by his employees' miraculous success.

As the thrill of victory

rattled through his varicose veins

and spiked his heart rate

to dangerously moderate levels,

Shelbyville's owner decided to raise the stakes.

- The Gladiators from my power plant will crush your team

like nine flabby grapes.

- I disagree.

- Would you care to bet $1 million on that?

- No, if we're going to bet,

why don't we make it interesting?

- What, $1 million isn't interesting to you?

- Oh, did you say $1 million? I'm, uh--

I'm sorry, my mind was elsewhere.

I thought you would start with a small amount,

then we would bait each other and--

well, you know how it goes.

Yes, certainly. $1 million will be fine.

[chuckles]

- $1 million dollars was a lot of money back then.

In today's money, that's over $1 million!

[cash register dings]

- Necessity is the mother of all invention,

and he needed to win that $1 million,

and by doing that, I think he unearthed some things

that are still used in the game today.

- If you're Mr. Burns, you're thinking,

"Hey, I've got to make sure I win this thing.

"I can't just throw away $1 million.

"I mean, I can, because I'm freakin' loaded,

but it's the principle of the matter."

So what do you do if you need a sure thing?

- You cheat.

You cheat in the most blatant and extravagant way possible.

[bat thwacks, crowd cheering]

narrator: With no time to spare,

Mr. Burns got down to business with his underpaid,

overworked, and under-loved assistant, Waylon Smithers.

Their plan was simple.

- Professional baseballers.

We'll give them token jobs at the plant

and have them play on our softball team.

Honus Wagner, Cap Anson, Mordecai "Three Finger" Brown.

- Uh, sir. - What is it, Smithers?

- I'm afraid all those players have retired

and, uh, passed on.

In fact, your-- your right fielder

has been dead for 130 years.

- Damnation!

- I was so impressed

with Mr. Burns' knowledge of baseball.

I mean, he had Honus Wagner at short,

and he had Harry Hooper in the outfield,

the star of the 1912 World Series.

And the knockout, of course, was Creighton in right field,

because who has heard of Jim Creighton except maybe me?

And Burns knew everything about baseball

except who was living and who wasn't.

One might argue that Mr. Burns tilted the tables unfairly.

He was cheating.

Now, there is nothing more venerable and honored

in the national pastime than cheating,

or at least attempting to.

[soft instrumental music]

narrator: The so-called Black Sox

were heavily favored in 1919,

when eight of the star players for the Chicago White Sox

conspired with gamblers

to intentionally lose the World Series.

The scandal that followed would rock the baseball world.

Once-beloved heroes like Buck Weaver

and Shoeless Joe Jackson

were banned from the game for life,

condemned to die in infamy.

- So Mr. Burns was very much in the tradition

of the national pastime, which was,

win any way you can, as long as you're not caught.

narrator: Mr. Burns' orders to Smithers were clear:

Find nine good, living players to field the greatest team

the world had ever seen.

No bad people, like Lenny Leonard...

- Ah!

narrator: No dead people, like Ty Cobb,

and certainly no bad dead people,

like Tony Suck,

who was as dead as he looks, and as bad as he sounds.

With the game fast approaching,

Smithers set to work.

- I'm on my way, sir. - Oh, and Smithers...

You have 24 hours.

- [gulps]

narrator: First up, Jose Canseco,

a powerhouse left-fielder

famed for his puritan ethic and teetotaling ways.

- Nobody cares about you either, fat-ass.

- [whispering]

- I get $50,000 to play one game?

- [chuckles] That's right, Mr. Canseco.

- Well, it's a pay cut, but what the hey.

It sounds like fun.

Oh, our team could beat everybody.

We had the best team in the universe.

They picked, from my era,

from my time, the best players around.

narrator: Off to a promising start,

Smithers then approached Mike Scioscia,

at the time, the star catcher for the Los Angeles Dodgers.

- Are you Mike Scioscia? - That's me.

- Uh, how do you like working for the Dodgers?

- Well, it's okay, but sometimes I wish

I had something a little more blue-collar,

you know, with big machines and cool dials and stuff,

like an oil refinery or a hydroelectric plant.

- We should talk.

narrator: A chance to work at the Springfield

nuclear power plant was the opportunity

Scioscia had been waiting on for a lifetime.

And who could blame him?

To work a blue-collar job in a nondescript town

was to live the American dream.

Next, Smithers headed to Graceland,

home of Elvis Presley.

There, standing conveniently near the gift shop,

was a future Hall of Famer

getting his first look at the good life.

- Man, oh, man, what a lifestyle.

- Excuse me, are you Ozzie Smith?

- Yes. - I have a proposition for you.

narrator: In the meantime,

the rest of Mr. Burns' lineup fell into place.

- Are you Don Mattingly? - Yes.

Yes, I am. Come in. Come in.

Can I get you something? What's your name?

[upbeat jazz music]

- How would you like to be a ringer

on a small-town company softball team?

- Would I?

[upright bass whooshing]

Oh, I heard of Homer from his days

with the Springfield Isotopes.

Thought I might be able to pick up some of those dance moves.

narrator: Before leading his team to the city championship,

Homer had been best known to the sport of baseball

for his brief but memorable stint as Dancin' Homer,

the caped and crunking mascot for the Springfield Isotopes.

- Go, Dancin' Homer. Get up, man. Get up.

narrator: Though Homer's tenure

on the town's reliably pathetic minor league team

would inevitably end in humiliation and disgrace,

his posterior gyrations would go on

to inspire the likes of MC Hammer

and a whole generation of zany and inscrutable youth.

But by the time Mr. Burns unveiled

his new team of ringers at the power plant,

Dancin' Homer was calling himself Home Run Homer,

and the intoxicating joys of the boogie-woogie

were a distant thought on a suddenly sobering day.

- And now I'd like to introduce the new members

of our happy power plant family,

our new security guard, Roger Clemens...

- Hello. - Our new janitor,

Wade Boggs... - How you doing?

- Our new lunchroom cashier, Ken Griffey Jr...

- Hey, what's up, guys? - Our new--well, uh--

we'll make up jobs for these fellas later.

Please say hello to Steve Sax, Don Mattingly,

Darryl Strawberry, Ozzie Smith,

Mike Scioscia, and Jose Canseco.

- Wow. - Wow.

- Was it the greatest team ever assembled?

Those 27 Yankees, they were pretty damn good.

But were they strong enough

to beat the Shelbyville nuclear power plant team?

- You betcha. - Absolutely.

- Even Yogi Berra would have said

that that game was over before it started.

- Yeah, sure, you know, they were great or whatever.

We were even a little starstruck for a moment,

but, you know, then it hit us.

- Mr. Burns, with them on the team, you won't need us.

- Well, duh.

- All I remember is closing my eyes and thinking, "D'oh."

You're Darryl Strawberry. - Yes?

- You play right field. - Yes.

- I play right field too. - So?

- Well, are you better than me?

- Well, I never met you, but...yes.

narrator: The truth can hurt,

but as the team would soon learn,

so can baseball.

[bat thwacks, crowd cheering]

- You always feel bad about pushing out the little guy,

but at the same time, it's not your fault

if you're the best players in town.

- The country. - The universe.

- Simpson was heartbroken, or at least he was hungry,

but that is how you know that he was heartbroken.

- You make me sick, Homer.

You're the one who told me I could do anything

if I just put my mind to it.

- Well, now that you're a little bit older,

I can tell you that's a crock.

No matter how good you are at something,

there's always about a million people better than you.

- Gotcha. Can't win. Don't try.

- If you're Homer, that's a tough lineup to crack.

I mean, you got Don Mattingly,

who has the strength of ten men...

- This one by Mattingly! Oh, hang on to the roof!

Good-bye, home run!

- Jose Canseco, who just came right out of left field...

- Canseco back to the track, looking up.

It is off his head, it looked like.

- Mike Scioscia,

who happened to think like a machine operator,

which is the next best thing to a machine itself.

- Oh, my! Scioscia did it again.

- And that was just the bottom of the lineup.

- It's fair to say the odds were stacked against Homer,

but it's also fair to say that no coach

had ever been more fair than Mr. Burns.

He was gonna make those players earn it.

- As your new manager, I want to say this up front:

No one is assured a spot in the starting lineup.

I don't care if your name is Steve Sax or Darryl Strawberry

or--Smithers, what's one of the bad players' names?

- Homer Simpson, sir? - Or Homer Simpson.

narrator: Even so, some of Mr. Burns' coaching methods

came to be viewed as nontraditional,

even by the standards of the Wild West ways of 1992.

- I'd put it this way: it was one of those

Goldilocks eras for the country.

Instead of being just right,

everything somehow felt just wrong.

And not to harp on that cake versus biscuit thing,

but a thing like that could [bleep] you up.

narrator: If you went to the movies,

you saw a sad man declare

we were running out of Mohicans.

[guns fire]

If you picked up a paper, you read a sad man swear

that all was not definitely exactly as it seemed.

- The charges are false.

narrator: If you turned on the radio,

you heard a sad man beg you to stop communing

with his achy breaky heart.

The only solace to be found was on the small screen,

where well-meaning men and women

could take a deep breath, crack open a Crystal Pepsi,

and be soothed by the inspiring lives

of their fellow Americans

on the brand-new "Jerry Springer Show."

- Thank you. Hey, welcome to the show.

[crowd yelling]

- The whole country was suffering

from an existential crisis,

and when nothing matters, neither do the rules.

- You are all very good players.

all: We are all very good players.

- You will beat Shelbyville.

all: We will beat Shelbyville.

- You will give 110%.

all: That's impossible. No one can give more than 100%.

By definition, that is the most anyone can give.

- All that said, I once almost coaxed a lab rat

into giving 110%.

Uh, the test results were very promising,

but after further analysis, it turned out that,

well, the rat was just bad at math.

- Even I could have told that

pink-panted rodent lover that much.

I mean, rats, they're just like youse and me.

- Yeah, but it's not like the team

was just staring at yo-yos all day long.

You know, there's that old mantra,

"Practice, practice, practice"?

Well, those guys wanted it so bad, they practiced four times.

"Practice, practice, practice, practice."

They were not screwing around.

- Oh, Homer, he left it all out there on the field, all right.

Had to keep telling him to put his clothes back on.

- Look, we all knew it's not the hours you put in;

it's what you put in the hours.

So we were gonna spike those hours

with all the booze we could find.

But then, Coach threw us another curveball.

- Instead of beer, from now on, you will all be drinking this.

It's a brain and nerve tonic, rich in proteins

and electromagnetic juices.

It promotes robust health.

Of course, it has been known to cause gigantism,

but only in rare cases.

Try some! - [slurps]

Wow, it's like there's a party in my mouth,

and everyone's invited.

- Medical science was still in the Stone Ages back then.

Mr. Burns had them drinking a brain and nerve tonic,

when we didn't even know

the brain was made up of nerves.

narrator: But for a coach who seemed eager

to break all the rules,

there was one rule on which he refused to budge.

- Mattingly, get rid of those sideburns.

- What sideburns? - You heard me, hippie.

- Sideburns are hair growing from the head

down the side of the ear,

and they can be as short as the top of the ear,

or they can be as long as growing right into a mustache.

narrator: Variations on this sultry styling

have been known to grace the faces

of a good many of the world's greatest men,

from Alexander the Great

to Prince Albert to Elijah Wood.

The term originated from

a Union general of the Civil War

known for his most unorthodox whiskers,

General Ambrose Burnside.

- Look, at the end of the day, fashion is about attitude,

and Don Mattingly simply had the wrong one.

- The Yankees getting worked up about my hair, fine.

But Springfield?

You expect better

from a high-class establishment like that.

narrator: The day before the game,

the players took the field

for one last round of practice.

But already, the cracks were beginning to show

in the bat that was the Springfield ringers

in a metaphorical bat-based scenario.

- I look at everything from a pitcher's perspective,

and from a pitcher's perspective,

you have to have a catcher.

- And all of a sudden, their catcher goes missing.

- The opportunity to work around nuclear materials

was very appealing to me,

and I thought it was a once-in-a-lifetime shot.

[whistling]

- Hey, Scioscia, I don't get it.

You're a ringer, but you're here every night in the core

busting your butt hauling radioactive waste.

- Well, Carl, it's such a relief

from the pressures of playing big league ball.

I mean, there, you make any kind of mistake, and boom!

The press is all over you.

Uh-oh... - Ah, don't worry about it.

- Oh, man, is this ever sweet.

We had a little accident at the plant.

Some of it was my doing.

Some of it was obviously oversight,

but I don't want to throw anyone under the bus right now.

- That good-for-nothing Scioscia

was a total amateur.

He didn't even spill the whole barrel.

narrator: As the practice drew to a close,

Homer had one last chance

to prove he could hang with the very best.

[bat thwacks] - I got it! I got it!

- Yes!

- Hey! I called for that. - Put a lid on it, Simpson.

narrator: And fortunately for the former mascot,

he still had his secret weapon.

- These guys aren't so tough. I've got Wonder Bat.

- Homer steps up to the plate,

and you know it's make-or-break for him.

- In every player's career, there comes a time

when you put up or shut up.

- Well, what are you supposed to throw to a guy

that hits it out of the park

every time he steps to the plate?

- There's an old saying in baseball:

"Babe Ruth is dead. Throw strikes."

- Oh, no, it broke Coach's heart,

finding out about the Babe like that.

[stirring music]

[baseball whooshes] - [screams]

- Yeah.

- You could see that one coming.

- [exhales]

narrator: With the lineup set,

Mr. Burns instructed his players

to get to sleep before 7:30 and not consume any cola.

- Make no mistake, they pack a wallop.

- Sure do, skip. - Yes.

narrator: Aside from the brief but notable sideburn incident,

all seemed to be going as planned

the night before the big game.

- Everyone knew they had it in the bag.

- Unbeatable. They couldn't lose.

- If you played that game 1,000 times,

they would have won that game 1,000 times.

Literally, all they had to do was show up the next day.

- Smithers, there's no way I can lose this bet,

unless, of course, my nine all-stars fall victim

to nine separate misfortunes

and are unable to play tomorrow,

but that will never happen.

Three misfortunes? That's possible.

Seven misfortunes? There's an outside chance.

But nine misfortunes? I'd like to see that.

- As Jose Canseco once said,

the greatest misfortunes are the ones that never happen.

- Why would I say that?

That doesn't make any sense at all.

[stirring music]

narrator: Mere nanoseconds after Mr. Burns tested fate

with his cocksure proclamation

that no more than nine misfortunes

could befall his ragtag team of major league all-stars,

Springfield's quest for its elusive first championship

veered to the side of the road.

- What a nice little town.

Maybe I'll buy a home here when I retire.

[siren blaring]

[tense music]

What seems to be the problem, officers?

- That's enough out of you, smart guy.

- Reach for your license...

[gun clicks] Slowly.

- Well, well. Steve Sax from New York City.

- I heard some guy got killed in New York City

and they never solved the case.

But you wouldn't know anything about that,

now would you, Steve?

[laughter]

- But there's hundreds

of unsolved murders in New York City.

- You don't know when to keep your mouth shut,

do you, Saxy boy?

Yeah, we got him in New York City for half of '89,

half of '90, half of '91.

That's, uh-- that's opportunity right there.

- What was I doing in New York City then?

I was playing baseball, man.

I was--I was playing for the New York Yankees,

minding my own business.

I had absolutely no motive whatsoever.

- I mean, this was the early '90s.

The whole country was in the dumps.

If you didn't need a motive to get out of bed,

you definitely didn't need a motive

to put 600 bodies in the ground.

- That's what? A new murder every other day for four years.

That's an unsustainable murder rate for a hardened criminal.

- Look, all I know is, he sure was eager to skip town

and come to Springfield. [chuckles]

Sounds like a man who stole some souls to me.

- I had a hard enough time stealing second base.

I knew it was something deep.

I knew it was some sort of a conspiracy.

Something very sinister was going on,

and there was somebody that was putting these cops up to this.

- All I'm at liberty to say about Steve Sax is,

we are still investigating the matter.

narrator: Meanwhile, over at

the Springfield General Hospital,

the situation was getting radioactive.

- Uh, Mike, try to lift your arm.

- [weakly] Can't lift arm

or speak at normal rate.

- Well, I'm afraid you have a case of

acute radiation poisoning, Mr. Scioscia.

- Will I be able

to play softball tomorrow?

- [chuckles]

No, by tomorrow, you'll barely be able to breathe.

- Oh, man.

The hair loss, the nausea, the diarrhea,

all that fades away, but hauling contaminants

down the utility duct of sector 7G,

memories like that can last you a lifetime.

narrator: Unfortunately, not every player was enjoying

such a pleasant near-death experience.

- Dr. Hibbert, Ken Griffey Jr. needs to see you immediately.

We think it's an overdose of nerve tonic.

- Good Lord! Gigantism!

- We talk about celebrities having so-called big heads

or inflated egos. They're larger than life.

That kind of language was very triggering for Ken

after he actually had the onset of gigantism.

- We've all fractured bones, torn ligaments, ripped muscles,

dislocated shoulder, broken hearts,

but when you start playing little league,

no one ever warned you about gigantism.

- If any parents are out there watching with their kids,

you sit 'em down right now, and you tell them,

"Stick to the Epsom salts. Stick to the multivitamins."

And not those gummy bear ones.

They're an addiction waiting to happen.

that would prove to be a problem

that dark-colored night.

Another trouble color would be the color red color.

- My baby! - Don't worry, ma'am,

I'll save your baby. [baby crying]

[dramatic music]

- Oh, thank you, Mr. Canseco.

[cat yelps] My cat!

- Never fear, ma'am, I'll save your cat.

♪ ♪

[piano music playing]

- [gasps] My player piano!

- Oh, man.

[flames whoosh, crackle]

It is a darn big issue of us big guys

always carrying the load,

having to physically help everyone out all the time,

and I think we ought to talk about it.

You know, we get tired. We're human beings.

We have emotions too.

narrator: But while Canseco

endured the sobering egocentrism

of the town's most helpless denizens,

Wade Boggs was getting drunk.

- And I say, England's

greatest prime minister was Lord Palmerston.

- Pitt the Elder.

- Lord Palmerston!

- Pitt the Elder!

- Okay, you asked for it, Boggs.

[grunts and wallops]

- Yeah, that's showing him, Barney.

Pitt the Elder.

- Lord Palmerston!

[grunts and wallops]

- You gotta blame Springfield's beer culture for that one.

That said, Pitt the Elder was a brilliant orator,

a man of the people, and vehemently anti-corruption.

Lord Palmerston was a hack who bought the press

and stoked nationalist fears to consolidate support

among the uneducated masses.

The answer was plain...

- Lord Palmerston! - Pitt the Elder!

- Both Palmerston and Pitt the Elder

were hopeless ingenues.

Any Brit worth their salt and with a half-decent butler

will tell you the greatest-ever British prime minister

was Margaret Thatcher.

Ah, the way she dismantled society.

narrator: It may remain one of the great mysteries

of the 20th century.

What was Margaret Thatcher thinking?

But not the greatest.

- How long does it take to see this thing?

I'm kind of in a hurry.

- Well, it's hard to say, my friend.

Once you go in, you may never come out.

- Wow. One, please.

Ahh!

Cool! [camera shutter clicks]

Ahh! - [snickers]

- Many times, I feel like I'm still

in the mystery spot, you know?

World going round and round and round,

and it was, uh-- it was quite a fall.

- So, the mystery spot is not a spot at all.

It's an anti-gravitational vortex

that bisects the space-time continuum

and redistributes the composition of matter

on a subatomic scale,

and right now, that's all we really know.

- Losing Ozzie to the mystery spot was a terrible blow,

but at the same time, if you're Mr. Burns,

you ought to be saying,

"Hey, that's only six misfortunes."

narrator: Instead, when he arrived at the field

for the game the next day,

Mr. Burns went looking for trouble.

He found it, all right.

- Mattingly, for the last time, get rid of those sideburns.

- Look, Mr. Burns,

I don't know what you think sideburns are, but--

- Don't argue with me! Just get rid of them!

- Donny almost got a complex about that.

I mean, he got on him three or four times.

- [gasps] Mattingly!

I thought I told you to trim those sideburns!

Go home!

You're off the team for good! - Fine.

I think the only person more confused than me

at the game was Clemens.

- What about Clemens?

- Sir, he's in no condition to play.

- [clucking]

- That damn hypnotist!

- At a certain point, you stop needing a barber

and start needing a shrink.

narrator: Disastrously down to his actual

power plant employees,

Mr. Burns was forced to rally the very players

he had so ruthlessly maligned.

His only hope for redemption,

to deliver an inspirational speech

worthy of Pitt the Elder.

- Patrick Henry's cry for liberty or death,

Winston Churchill's ode to the finest hour,

Lincoln's Gettysburg Address--

but just because Mr. Burns might have been there

for each of those speeches,

that doesn't mean he could give one of his own.

- [clears throat] All right, you ragtag bunch of misfits,

you hate me, and I hate you even more.

But without my beloved ringers, you're all I've got.

So I, uh, want you to remember some inspiring things

that someone else may have told you

in the course of your lives, and go out there and win!

all: Yeah!

- [sniffles]

- Not so fast, Simpson.

The man who plays your position is still here.

Hit the pine. - Aw.

Come on, this guy already gets to be Darryl Strawberry.

Now he thinks he can be employee of the month too?

narrator: But opportunity is like a Jehovah's Witness.

You never know when it's going to knock.

[chimes tinkling]

- Boo! Too boring!

Nobody cares about those. Come on.

Skip ahead to the ninth already.

Get to the good stuff.

This is taking longer than a game of cricket,

for crying out loud.

[chimes tinkling]

- Oh, I'll always remember that day.

Never seen another day like it.

I thought I'd seen every kind of day there was,

uh, drunk days, sober days,

uh, Tuesdays,

but that day--

I don't want this to sound weird or nothing,

but, uh, that day was special.

- There was this feeling in the air,

this, uh--this whiff of togetherness.

Anticipation.

The sense that anything was possible.

I mean, looking back, obviously we now know

it was just marijuana, but, uh--

but back then, it just-- it smelled like community.

- Was it going to be easy? No.

Was it gonna be hard? Yes.

- Statistically, without the ringers on the field,

their chances of winning that game

were about as good as Patty and Selma

living past 50.

- Yeah, we tried to focus on the basics.

You know, keep your eye on the ball,

keep your helmet on your head,

keep your beer in your cozy.

narrator: As the crowd from Springfield mourned the loss

Though most were happy to at least see the Straw man

still standing out in right field,

a few remained loyal to the Springfield Slugger,

who'd led their team to the brink of glory.

- You stink, Strawberry!

We want Home Run Homer!

- [singsongy] Darryl!

Darryl!

both: Darryl! Darryl!

- Children, that's not very nice.

- Mom, they're professional athletes.

They're used to this sort of thing.

It rolls right off their backs.

- [sniffles]

- When somebody cries out of one eye,

you know they're really emotional,

so uh, Lisa and Bart, shame on you

for starting the "Darryl" chant.

I thought that was-- that was bush league.

- Oh, grow up. There's no crying in baseball.

There's barely even any baseball in baseball.

- If there can be gigantism

and acute radiation poisoning in baseball,

then I think it's safe to say

there can be crying in baseball.

narrator: Shelbyville raced to an early lead,

as peanut bags flew everywhere.

- Who wants peanuts? Peanuts? - Over here.

- Peanuts. Hey, whoa! Oh, peanuts taste good.

Hey, peanuts. We got peanuts. Need some peanuts? Heads up.

narrator: And Homer scratched sadly at his testicles,

a sight so depressing, even Marge had to look away.

With the game quickly slipping out of reach,

Mr. Burns was forced to get creative.

- All right, Monty, it's up to your managerial skills.

What to do? Smithers, massage my brain.

- Yes, sir.

[cracking, squishing]

- You, Strawberry, hit a home run!

- Okay, skip.

[bat thwacks, cars honking]

- [chuckles] I told him to do that.

- Brilliant strategy, sir.

- Most managers would have told him

to hit a double there, a triple at most,

but a home run?

[chuckles]

Pretty daring move.

- You look back at that game,

and that's the moment the momentum shifts,

and all of a sudden, these schmucks are saying,

"Hey, we have a chance here."

- So Strawberry huddles us up in the dugout, and he says,

"You guys can do this!

The best players in the world fail seven out of ten times."

And it just kinda hits us, like, "You know what?

"We can fail at least eight or nine out of ten.

Those pros got nothing on us." [chuckles]

- Next thing you know, it's a tie game, 43 to 43.

We looked all the way back to 1857.

That had never happened before.

- So you got a tie game,

bottom of the ninth, two outs, bases loaded.

The stuff dreams are made of.

- Well, dreams are involuntary responses

to the suppression of neurotransmitters

during the rapid eye movement cycle of sleep,

but hey,

why let science get in the way of a good story?

- Wait, you, Strawberry!

Good effort today. Take a lap and hit the showers.

I'm putting in a right-handed batter to hit for you.

- What? - You're pinch hitting for me?

- Yes.

You see, you're a left-hander, and so is the pitcher.

If I send up a right-handed batter,

it's called playing the percentages.

It's what smart managers do to win ballgames.

- But I've got nine home runs today.

- You should be very proud of yourself.

Sit down. Simpson! You're batting for Strawberry.

- I am? Whoo-hoo! - Huh?

- Really? Is this guy out of his mind?

- I mean, has he never heard of

- Him swapping out

Homer Simpson for Darryl Strawberry,

just because there was a left-hander

on the mound, was genius.

- Yeah, it might have been a controversial decision.

It might have taken some sentient beings

who understand the game of baseball by surprise,

but for once in his life, I think you can argue

that Mr. Burns was actually ahead of his time.

This was sabermetrics, pure and simple.

People forget that Mr. Burns was Billy Beane

before Billy Beane was Billy Beane.

If they ever make a movie about that day,

Mr. Burns would be played by Brad Pitt.

[pleasant music]

- Yeah, sure.

Screw it. Sign me up.

narrator: And so with the season on the line,

Homer J. Simpson walked the long walk from the dugout.

to the batter's box a few feet away.

It would later be said

that the difference between the ordinary

and the extraordinary is that little extra,

and Homer carried with him an extra 60 to 70 pounds.

Under these very conditions,

the great and mighty Casey at the Bat

had once so unceremoniously faltered.

Now at last was Homer's chance

to prove himself the stuff of legend.

With one swing of the stick,

he could wipe away generations of heartbreak and suffering,

finally, faithfully,

and fearlessly bringing his native town

that which it desired most:

a championship trophy or a championship plaque,

or at least one of those engraved

and mounted glass triangular thingies

that is sort of a half trophy, half plaque.

Really, any of the three would do.

- Huh?

Ooh!

[crowd cheers] - [gasps] Oh, dear!

- No, Mom, it counts as a hit!

Dad just won the game! - Oh.

Well, I guess he'll be happy when he comes to.

- We won! We won! All right!

[stirring music]

♪ ♪

[all cheering]

- I mean, anybody can strut up there

and hit a grand slam, right?

But Homer... [chuckles]

He did it the hard way.

He did it his way.

- The Mighty Homer, we called him. [chuckles]

He couldn't hear us, of course,

since he was unconscious and whatnot,

but, uh, you know, anyone who wasn't concussed that day

can tell you, there was joy in Springfield.

- Naturally, we all thought that was the end of the story.

He wins the game,

he's carted off a comatose hero,

everyone lives happily ever after.

But then, 25 years later, completely out of the blue...

- I walk into the break room, and this guy says,

"Hey, Chief, did you hear about Homer?"

And I'm like, "Oh, God, what'd he do this time?

"Get in another high-speed car chase with Ron Howard?

"Get in another fistfight with George H.W. Bush?

Or just the thing where he strangles his kid again?"

But no, apparently this time, uh,

he got into the Baseball Hall of Fame.

narrator: For a moment, Homer lived happily ever after,

but as the Springfield Slugger would soon discover,

the happily ever after can be the most trying time of all.

[stirring music]

- Homer Simpson in the Baseball Hall of Fame?

[chuckles] Unthinkable.

- Growing up, all I cared about was Frank Thomas,

Rickey Henderson, and Homer Simpson.

They were gods among men.

If I had even one season like Homer had,

I'd retire a happy man.

- We tried to sign Simpson in '93.

I handed the guy a blank check.

But he just said, "Thanks, Mr. Taxman,"

and used it as a napkin.

narrator: On May 27, 2017,

in front of a salivating crowd of Cooperstown's finest,

Homer Simpson was inducted

into the National Baseball Hall of Fame.

- It is with great humility I enter the Hall of Fame,

and it's about damn time.

I'm fatter than Babe Ruth, balder than Ty Cobb,

and have one more finger than Mordecai "Three Finger" Brown.

- You walk down the hall at Cooperstown now,

and it's the Babe, Jackie, Willie, me,

and Homer Simpson?

I don't wanna say it's like a bad dream,

but it's like a pretty confusing dream.

- I thought it was April Fools' Day.

I was sitting at home and, you know, got a call

that said, "Yeah, you heard the news?"

I'm like, "What news?"

They be like, "Homer's in the Hall of Fame."

I'm like, "Really? Really?"

- To make it to the Hall of Fame,

you have to be animated, evidently,

and... [chuckles]

So...

and he was just that.

- That's so surreal.

Homer, Hall of Fame.

That doesn't really go together.

- I know there will always be people who think

I don't deserve this award,

that the Bad News Bear

was more of a deserving mammal,

but I always knew I could do it.

It was just a matter of finding

an "it" that was doable.

To Cooperstown, I say thank you,

but more importantly, thank me.

narrator: And so Homer's place among the game's immortals

was etched into the hallowed halls of American lore.

- Whoo-hoo!

- You think about the rest of '92

and the years that followed,

and you can pinpoint that game

as the day this country started to get back on track.

I think it's fair to say

we wouldn't be sitting here in 2017

saying to ourselves,

"Gee, everything's just so perfect!"

- I think to get in the Hall of Fame,

you either need 3,000 hits,

500 home runs, or 4 yellow fingers.

- Everyone loves a fairy-tale ending.

I couldn't have written it better myself.

narrator: And yet, as much as the game has remained

in the hearts and minds of Springfield's fans,

it is the Major League ringers who hold that day most dear.

- You know that championship game in Springfield

completely changed our lives.

- It's crazy.

People forget I won two World Series.

All they remember is that I was accused of

committing several hundred murders.

- I still think about it all the time.

The mystery spot was like a metaphor for life.

You might know how you got into it,

but you can't know what happens when you get out.

- I tell my players every year,

"Baseball's like transporting nuclear waste

"past an auxiliary steam reactor.

"Don't do this because it's your job;

do this because you love auxiliary steam reactors."

- Sometimes in life, it's not about what you learned,

but what you didn't learn,

and I can confidently say that I didn't learn a lot.

narrator: But as much as the game has remained

in the hearts and minds of the ringers,

it is the Springfield locals who hold that day most dear.

- I had to start carrying his baseball card.

Very profitable, but very lame.

But very profitable. But very lame.

- It's like Homer said that night when he came to:

"Dedication plus motivation minus beer equals success,

"and when you're successful,

you get to drink all the beers you want."

- Winning the Springfield championship will always be

my favorite memory I can't remember.

I was drunk in the beginning and unconscious in the end.

It's the story of my life.

[cheery organ music]

♪ ♪

- By the way, if there was a Donut Hall of Fame,

he would kind of be the Babe Ruth of it.

You don't have a Donut Hall of Fame without Homer Simpson.

- Homer Simpson represents, uh,

the majority of Americans

who are failed baseball players.

♪ ♪