All language subtitles for The Waltons s02e08 The Braggart

There were times on Walton's
Mountain so filled with

peace and contentment that
I might sit in my room

writing and never once
be reminded

that I was part of a large
and boisterous family.

It was on such a day that
Jim-Bob took time out

to watch the grass grow
and Hobie Shank came back

into our lives.

I wasn't to know much
peace or contentment

after Hobie's arrival.

-Where's your father, son?
-In the barn.

You wait here.

You just call
Mr. John Walton out here.

He'll know who I am.

-Hey, there, what's your name?
-Jim-Bob.

Well, not the Jim-Bob Walton
I knew four years ago?

I used to tote you around
in my arms. Look at you now.

You remember me? Hobie Shank?

I was just a little fellow
then myself. And look at me now.

Strongest man this side
of Missouri.

John, I got a boy out here
named Hobart Shank.

He says you'll vouch for him.

-Hobart who?
-Shank.

Says he spent the summer
with you four years ago.

That orphan boy, John.

Oh, Hobie. From the county home.

Yeah, I'd picked him up
hitching north on 29.

Figured he was just another hobo
looking for a place to light.

Why don't you look at him?
See if you know him.

By gum, you're right, Jim-Bob.

Look at that little feller.

Got it right up on his back.

Mr. Walton. I knew you
wouldn't forget me.

Well, it's little Hobie.
How could I forget you, son?

You carved your initials
in our kitchen table.

I was hoping you wouldn't
remember that.

Hey, Grandpa! How are you?

I'll never forget him
taking me fishing...

and I came back with a string
of catfish that stretched...

from here to that porch.

Must have been at least
two catfish on that string.

Sounds like you, Hobie.

Good to see you. What brings you
to this part of the country?

Well, that's my big surprise.

Hobie, he's still got it.

John, if you say it's okay,
I'll take off--

It's okay. Thanks
for bringing him by.

Thank you, Sheriff.

He is probably the strongest
ant alive.

You ought to see this
little-bitty ant

carrying a breadcrumb about a
hundred times bigger than he is.

Hey, where's John-Boy? We were
regular buddies that summer.

He's up in his room working.

John-Boy, I got a surprise
for you!

Guess who's here. Me!

You remember Hobie Shank.

When you were 13,
he spent a summer with us.

Yeah.

Get down here, old buddy. Me and
you got some catching up to do.

Okay.

I heard some voices.

Let me guess. Erin?

No. Mary.

-Mary Ellen, right?
-Right.

You were just a scrawny little
tomboy, and look at you now.

-Pretty as a picture.
-Thank you.

-Who are you?
-Hobart Shank.

Little Hobie?

Big as life and twice
as handsome.

You're just in time
for my big surprise.

And so are you, old buddy.

Come on, I got a big
surprise for y'all.

You remember this, Mr. Walton?

This is my old pitcher's mitt.

Ever since you gave it to me,
I knew what I was gonna be.

And, by gum, I am.

I'm gonna tell you all about
it at supper tonight.

That is, if I'm invited.

You are invited.

I thought you'd never
get around to it.

-Put it there, old buddy.
-Hey, Hobie--

Remember you beat me
at Indian wrestling?

-Let's do it again.
-I don't want to--

Just wanna show what's
happened to your old buddy.

Give it your best try.
Come on. There you go.

Nice try, old buddy.

My ant. It jumped
out of my hand.

There he is.

Put him back
in a little jar

so you don't lose him again.

He's the world's strongest ant.

Boy, then why not call
him Hobie, Jr.?

That first little go-round
just kind of whet my appetite.

Well, now you must be
the world's champion eater.

Well, only when I meet up
with the world's greatest cook.

So, how's everything, John-Boy?
You married yet?

No. I'm still in high school.

I'm getting out
this year.

You were a pretty good runner.

Maybe you could make
it in track.

John-Boy's gonna be a writer.

You mean sit around all day
and noodle with words?

Yeah, I guess that's about it.

Maybe I'll do that when I'm old.

Write down the story
of my life.

Boy, there'd be
a whopper of a book.

What was the surprise you were
gonna tell us about, Hobie?

Oh, sure.

I lit out on my own
a while back.

No more three squares
a day for free

when I see this sign:

"Minor League Tryout.
St. Louis Baseball Club."

Boy, that corn bread sure melts
in your mouth, ma'am.

Thank you, Hobie.

So anyhow, I threw out some
of my Blue Lightning bolts

for this fellow
they called a scout.

Did his eyes ever bug out.

He says to this other man

"Kid's whizzer hops
like a rabbit."

So that's why I'm here.

I haven't the slightest idea
what you're talking about.

I'll explain it to you later.

The St. Louis team, Grandma.

All them boys just
waiting for Hobie

to pitch them
to the World Series.

You might not be able
to pitch them

but you could
talk it there.

Could I have a little more
of that gravy, ma'am?

Go right ahead
and help yourself.

Dig in, Hob.
Anything you want.

So, anyhow, this fellow says
to me, what's my address?

Well, I wasn't about to give him
the county orphanage.

So I gave him your address.

Why was it you did that, Hobie?

Well, that's my surprise.

I'm gonna be one
of the family again.

-What do you say, Mr. Walton?
-Well, I don't know.

It's sure good to see you,
I'll tell you that

but what do you say,
when you're presented with

a bouncing 170-pound baby boy?

Mrs. Walton?

You just make yourself
right at home.

And don't worry. I'll only
be around long enough

for that fellow to look for me.

And that might even be
tomorrow morning.

And anyhow, I figure if
I have you to talk for me

that scout will just have to
treat me fair and square, right?

-You want me to talk for you?
-Well, yeah.

Well, I'd be glad to.

And listen, if you play
your cards right

I might even make you
my manager.

That's alright.
I'll do that, Hobie.

Pass the sweet potatoes,
old buddy.

Thank you.

Dig in, Hobie.

You really believe all that hot
air about a scout coming out?

-Well, it could be.
-Well, I don't.

It appears to me
you've been acting

a mite uncharitable
toward him.

It's probably just me
but I always get

the feeling that he's trying
to downgrade me.

Like tonight, all that talk
about "aren't you married yet?"

and how he's gonna sit down
and write himself

a book when he gets old.

Anyway, he's sure
taken you over.

That bothers you, does it?

It does.

Alright, Son. Why don't you
ask him to come out?

We'll try to figure out
what he's really talking about.

He'll eat us out
of house and home.

Boy, he sure can eat.

Heh. He hasn't tried
any humble pie yet, has he?

My daddy would like to talk
to you out by the barn.

Why, sure, old buddy.

It's easy to see where
the Walton girls

get their good looks.

Your turn to dry, Erin.

Isn't he just about
the cutest thing alive?

He's just the handsomest.

Mary Ellen, when are you
going to stop calling

everything in pants handsome?

Never, I hope.

Hobie's just so funny.

Depends on how you
define "funny."

What are you so grouchy about?

Just don't go getting another
one of your crushes, Mary Ellen.

Is that the sermon for tonight,
Rev. Walton?

Just try not believing anything
that anybody says to you.

Does that include you, Reverend?

Remember that drop pitch
you taught me?

-I sure do.
-I use it all the time.

No kidding.

How long has it been, Hobie,
since you left that home?

I just wanna forget that place.
Talk about exciting things.

Did I tell you about that game
I pitched against Pepper Martin?

I heard you telling
Ben about it.

I hear things are kind
of lean on the road.

Hardly any work anywhere.

Yeah. Well, that's why
I'm sure glad

I got this great
pitching arm of mine.

How was it, son,
on your own?

I figured there'd
be work in D.C

but I just gave up,
rode the rails south again.

You know

Richmond, Raleigh,
Atlanta, Ft. Lauderdale.

You'd weasel a day's pay now
and then on a farm or a road job

something like that.

Rest of the time
you had to hobo?

It's no way to live,
Mr. Walton, believe me.

I believe you.

I sure wish there was a job
I could offer you around here.

You don't think
I came here for a job?

You're welcome to stay.
You don't have to work for it.

Don't you believe me?

About me winning that tryout
with the St. Louis Cardinals?

I believe you. But if
the man doesn't show up?

I'm sure not spending the rest
of my life in some hobo jungle.

I'm gonna be a pitcher in the
big leagues. He's gotta show up.

Alright. If he says he's gonna
show up, I'm sure he will.

We'll just sweat it out.

Hey. Hey, Jim-Bob, you alright?

You had a bad dream.

Hobie, Jr. kept growing
until he was a giant ant.

I used to dream like that.

-Boy, was I glad to wake up.
-Me, too.

-Come on, back in your own bed.
-But you're sleeping in it.

You'll sleep better
in your own bed.

Come on, big boy.

I'll stretch out with you till
you get back to sleep, okay?

Half Pint used to like me
to lie down with him.

He's a kid back at the home.

He used to follow me all the
time, pulling on my coattails.

Closest thing to a little
brother I ever had.

You know, a real pain, but
you couldn't help liking him.

Hobie. I'm sorry.
Did I frighten you?

Well, I guess I shouldn't
be down here, ma'am.

-Is something the matter?
-No, ma'am.

It was just for
a moment there

I remembered a time
when I was a little kid.

First night in the home,
and I got caught out of bed

after hours, without permission.

And they thought I was being
bad, and I wasn't.

You have my permission to stay
up as long as you want

if you can't sleep.

Strange surroundings sometimes
affect me that way, too.

It isn't strange, ma'am.

I remember every little thing
about this house.

Guess that's why
I couldn't sleep.

I'm too excited
being back here.

We're glad to have
you back, Hobie.

Jim-Bob had
a bad dream tonight.

I used to have them
all the time.

I had one while
I was here.

And I'll always remember
you coming in to me

and how just the sound of
your voice made it alright.

I guess I'd better be
getting back upstairs.

Mrs. Walton, you're some lady.

Goodnight, Hobie.

I wondered if you could put in a
word for me in your prayers.

'Cause if I can't make
it pitching for them,

I don't know what
I'm gonna do.

Hobie, you will always
have a home with us.

I sure hope you
mean that, ma'am.

It means a whole
lot to me if you do.

I do, Hobie.

-Goodnight.
-Goodnight, ma'am.

At what time do you think
we're gonna be getting home?

You expecting Marcia Woolery?

How'd you guess?

-I thought you two busted up.
-Well, we did.

I tell you, Daddy, I don't know
why I put up with that woman.

Well, now, Son...

there's one thing you should
understand about women.

-What's that?
-I don't know.

I'm looking for
the Walton place.

You've found it.

-You John Walton?
-Yes, sir.

Clyde Harroway, scout for
the St. Louis Cardinals.

-"Preacher" Harroway?
-One and the same.

Well, I'll be.

Son, this is "Preacher"
Harroway.

-Pleased to meet you.
-How are you?

-Is there a Hobart Shank here?
-Sure is.

I'm here to see if he can pitch
as good as Abe Taylor says.

You hear that, Son?
Go get Hobie.

Is there a ball field
in these parts?

There's one right down
the road there.

I'll meet you
and Shank there

as quickly as you can
get there.

You know, I saw you pitch,
1912, in an exhibition game.

I was just a kid.

"Look to today," Mr. Walton.
That's my motto.

-We'll be right there.
-Right.

Now you grip your fastball
tight, you hold it pretty deep.

And you kind of just let it slip
straight off your fingers.

Go ahead, you try it, Jim-Bob.

You sure do learn fast, Jim-Bob.
Just like Half Pint.

Show us your curveball, Hobie.

Look. You hold your curveball
same as you hold your fastball.

Hey, Hobie!

Yeah, old buddy?

He's here.

I can't wait to see
the look on that man's face

when he sees my smoke ball
hop, skip, and jump.

He's got a young
fella with him.

Probably the one
to catch for you.

You'll be my catcher,
Mr. Walton. For good luck.

Alright, Hobie.

-Welcome to Walton's Mountain.
-How are you?

-Calvin!
-Excuse me, girls.

-Hey, Sheriff.
-Hi.

Sixty-six feet, six inches.

Measured some of
these backwoods slabs.

They've been a little
short of regulation.

-This the boy?
-Hobie, meet Mr. Harroway.

-I sure am tickled to meet you--
-Let's get started.

Sir, you don't mind if
Mr. Walton catches me

instead of that
fellow there, do you?

That fellow there
is here to hit the ball, son.

I never recommend a boy
unless I see him throw

to something besides
a catcher's mitt.

That's Calvin Trask. Plays first
base for the Richmond Rebels.

Hiya, kid.

You better get
warmed up good, kid.

We're not playing patty-cake.

Alright.

We were in Mr. Godsey's
general store when they came in.

You could tell right away
they was real celebrities.

-Alright. Loosen up a little.
-Good luck, Calvin.

Here you go, son.

Mr. Godsey says he's just
tearing up triple-A pitching.

Whatever that means.

Rub a little snake oil on it,
Ben. For luck.

Anything else I should do?

Eddie Collins had
a way with him.

He'd take chewing gum and stick
it on the lid of his cap.

When things got tight,
he'd chomp on it.

-Can I borrow your gum?
-Sure.

Thank you.

There you go.

Thanks, Ben.

Let's see what you can do
with that toothpick of yours.

Big mouth, you better get ready
to chew horsehide.

It's too scary.
I can't watch.

Here he goes.

-Goodness! Was that a home run?
-Yeah.

It was just a lucky hit.
You'll get him next time!

That ought to teach old big
mouth a thing or two.

Now listen, Hob.

Hey, kid, the next one's
gonna tickle your tonsils, okay?

Save your breath
and give me the ball.

Now, take it easy, son.

Give me one finger for
Blue Lightning

and two for the jug handle

and I'll rear back and just fog
it by that big bag of wind.

You kids can sit down now.

Ain't gonna be another ball
hit nowhere today.

Here we go, son.

Ride it here, boy.

There you go.

Strike!

Strike!

-Attaboy, Hobie.
-Keep at it, boy.

Strike three!

Not bad.

Watch your fat head, kid, 'cause
I'm just getting warmed up.

Put your bat where
your mouth is.

Strike!

Attaboy, Hob.

Strike two.

You're out.

He's out!

Strike him out again, Hobie.

Strike one.

Attaboy, Hobie.

Strike two!

Strike three!
Side's retired.

Cool off, Trask.

I've seen enough of the kid.

I imagine you have, too.

Mr. Walton, we did it.

Hey, old buddy. How you doing?

I knew I could do it all along.
I just knew it.

He's quite a pitcher.

Then there's the one
about the dumb blonde.

Well, not you,
little darling.

She says to her boyfriend
at the ballgame:

"I like the pitcher best. He can
hit the bat almost every time."

-I'm sorry, John-Boy.
-There you go, old buddy.

So....

Tell us another one, Hobie.

Mary Ellen, get yourself busy.

Well, did I tell you
girls about the horse

who wound up
in the big lakes?

I'm prepared to offer him
$50 a month

to pitch for Raleigh
in the North Carolina League

plus a bonus of $50
for signing the contract now.

We were hoping for
a little more, though.

We never haggle with a raw
prospect, sir. Club policy.

You either take it or leave it.

I guess we're gonna have
to leave it.

Does this boy know
you're throwing away

his once-in-a-lifetime
opportunity?

He knows I might if I don't
think you're treating him well.

Then we have nothing further
to discuss, Mr. Walton.

-Good afternoon to you, sir.
-Mr. Harroway.

Have a nice trip back.

Alright, what do you want?

We'll take triple of that offer.

Triple?

I might consider double.

Mr. Harroway, we don't
haggle with our guests.

It's against family policy.

We'll take triple the pay,
but to show our good faith

we'll take only
double on the bonus.

It's a deal.

-You want me to call Hobie.
-Yes, Son, I do.

Let's just check this out.

There I was, lifting the entire
car with my back, when--

Hobie, put the car down.
They want you inside.

Why, sure, old buddy.

As one base line
said to the other

"Meet you at home, sweetie."

Why are you working so hard?

Somebody has to.

You invited me over.
The least you can do is join us.

You seem to be doing fine
without me around.

That's not fair, just 'cause I'm
paying attention to Hobie.

You pay all the attention you
want to him, but let me tell you

you have had your way with me
one too many times!

My goodness, John-Boy. You don't
have to get all upset about it.

We are just friends.
Nothing more than that.

I'm ready for the big leagues.

If you throw
like you did today...

you won't be
in the D League long enough

to have coffee,
as the saying goes.

If you don't mind,
I'll be on my way.

-Sorry you can't stay.
-So am I.

Hobie, I hope you
pitch half as well

as your friend
Mr. Walton here bargains.

He got you three times more
than we pay any green kid

So you listen to what he says.
See you later.

-Bye now.
-Bye, Mr. Harroway.

Well, son, you did it.

You should've made that man
put me in the majors.

Hey, come on!

You girls ever
seen a real $100 bill?

-Here.
-Come on, little darlings.

Come on, you're gonna get to see
your first $100 bill.

Let me see!

Come on.

I swear I try to like him, but
he doesn't make it easy for me.

I know. He can be hard
to take sometimes.

I wouldn't mind so much...

if he made eyes at girls that
were sweet to me.

I mean, that's life, I guess.

But when he starts walking all
over you, I just can't take it.

I suppose he doesn't mean it
that way, Son

You gotta remember
that he has had a hard life.

He's just riding high right now.

If you don't mind,
I'm gonna go to my room.

This is just not my week.

Come on, Hobie, why are you
sulking?

I've decided, I don't wanna go
back to that place.

Now, we talked about this, son.
You agreed.

The kids at the orphanage
will get a big kick out of this.

They know about the contract.
They're all excited.

I don't care.

Hobie, your dreams
are coming true.

It'll mean something to these
kids, give them a kind of hope.

How about that one you always
talk about, that Half Pint kid?

Listen, I earned my way
out of this place.

Look, I scrubbed floors,
I peeled potatoes...

I put yelling brats to bed.

I just want to forget all this.

Alright, Hobie. If you feel that
way, we can go home if you want.

We might as well

Alright, but, I don't wanna
waste all day here.

How nice of you to pay us
a visit, Hobart.

The boys are looking forward
to seeing you.

Especially Sam. Remember, you
used to call him Half Pint.

Things haven't changed around
here very much, Mrs. Baker.

No, unfortunately.

Well, I guess you're gonna be
anxious to see everybody.

Come on, Hobart.

-Do you have to leave so soon?
-Are you gonna come back?

You didn't show me
how to cover second on a steal.

How far is where you're going?

What about the double-play
pivot? You promised to teach me?

Hobie's gonna be
in the big leagues.

-Can I come with you?
-Will you stop hanging on me?

I didn't mean that, Half Pint.

You know what I'm gonna do?

As soon as I make it to the
Cardinals, I'll send for you.

Why, you can be
my own personal batboy, okay?

What are we waiting for?

Hobie's back!

I don't care if I never see that
place again.

Hey, you sweet things!
Hobie's back.

I just came over
to say goodbye, Hobie.

Got an hour before
I have to leave.

I don't care, but somebody's
gotta set that kid straight.

How about a game
of one-legged tag?

-That makes you it, angel.
-You are the craziest thing.

Well, a lot's happened to him
in a short time, Son.

Maybe he's just trying
to sort it out.

So he's gonna cash in on being
an orphan

for the rest of his life?

What you gotta remember is...

he was real little
when he was in that orphanage...

just Elizabeth's age.

So that's going to excuse him
from being a loudmouth?

Maybe he feels like he's gotta
shout a lot...

because he feels so alone
and lost inside.

Hey, Marcia!

No, Hobie, don't!

I'm coming after you, Marcia.

He probably thinks
being a big-time pitcher...

is the only chance he's got
to be somebody.

-Me, Tarzan, you, Jane.
-Hobie, you're a riot!

No, I'm king of the jungle...

See you later.

...and I'm flying
through the air.

-See that branch?
-Hey, Hobie!

Hobie? Don't touch him.
What is it, your arm?

-Let me see, son.
- Oh, boy.

The boy has a compound fracture
of the elbow

which must be reduced
surgically.

Now, the orthopedic man
is on his way.

We want your permission
to operate.

It's as bad as that, is it?

He may never have proper use of
the arm if we don't.

What did Hobart say about that?

He told me to ask you.

Will it be alright
if we operate?

Can never be sure
about recoverable mobility...

in cases where the injury
involves a joint.

I guess you'd better go ahead
and do all you can for him.

Good.

This operation will take
about three hours.

You can leave
and come back if you want to.

No, let's wait.

We'll stay on,
thank you, doctor.

Hey, Hobie.

Hey, yourself.

Welcome back.

What did they say?
Will I be alright?

They won't know till the cast
comes off, but they're hopeful.

Everyone's pulling for you
back home, Hobie.

Now listen, everything's
gonna be alright.

I'm even gonna be a better
pitcher...

once they get this darn thing
off my arm.

Hobie, I think you'd better
get some rest.

The nurse, she wants to give you
something for your pain.

We'll see you, Hobie.

John-Boy, you just bring
them pretty girls by to see me.

Will do.

Hey, you ever been kissed by a
one-armed fast ball pitcher?

About time somebody
washed this truck.

Not wash, Son. Bathe.
This truck's one of the family.

Well, it's easier than giving
Elizabeth a Saturday night bath.

At least it doesn't scream
when the water hits it.

It'll find some way to act back.

I thought this was Ben's job.

It is Ben's job.

If he doesn't get better at it,
I'll give it to Jim-Bob.

Lord knows what he'd do
with that car.

This is gonna look as good as
new, I tell you.

Son, it's not going to look
as good as new.

It'll never do that, like a lot
of things around here.

But spruced up a little, we can
get down the road a mile or two.

I'll be going to see Hobie
soon as I finish this.

Wanna go along?

I gotta catch up on a little
reading, I think.

You know, Son...

he's gonna be getting out of the
hospital in a couple of days.

There's a chance he'll never be
able to use that arm

for professional ball.

I know.

I'd like to welcome him
back here for a while.

Let that arm get limbered up
a little.

Well, what if that arm
is gone for good?

Let's just wait and see
about that, alright?

Okay.

-Mr. Walton.
-Doctor.

Boy's ready.

You sure you can take
the responsibility?

Yes, the family's decided.

Well, a certain
Mr. Taylor stopped by...

representing some baseball team.

He asked me to give you this.

He thought it'd be best
if you told him.

Come in.

Good morning, Hobie.

You all set to go?

You don't have to take me back,
you know.

-I've got a buddy--
-We want you to come.

Maybe I'll just hit the road
again.

You're gonna stay with us.

It's never gonna be the same,
is it?

-What's that?
-My pitching arm.

That scout feller, Mr. Taylor...

he says to me,
"Keep your chin up, kid."

That's right after he talked
with that doctor out there.

-Hobie--
-It's bad news, isn't it?

They've cancelled your contract,
You can keep the bonus, but....

I don't wanna talk about it.

Let's just get outta here.

-It was my idea!
-Last one in is a fat pickle!

-Erin, you cheated.
-I didn't!

Girls, Hobie's resting.

I'm sorry, Hobie.
Were you asleep?

-If he was, he isn't anymore.
-Look, surprise.

We picked them especially for
you from Mama's flower garden.

We thought they might
brighten up your room.

Thanks.

I think I'd better
put these in water.

Here, Hobie, I brought you
a present.

It was where the world's
strongest ant used to live...

until he climbed out
of an air hole.

Where do you want
me to put them?

Let's put them over there. He
can see when he wakes up then.

Hid it for an emergency, you can
have it to stick it on your cap.

Thanks, Elizabeth.

-If y'all don't mind--
-Look what we brought you.

Caught it from the same lake
where we were.

There's a trail of water
from the door.

Sorry, Grandma,
but we caught them for Hobie.

Well, alright, I'll cook them.

You can eat
all you want, Hobie.

I just wanna be left alone.

Elizabeth, come on.
Erin, out.

Thank you.

I'm worried about that boy
eating so little.

Picks like a bird at whatever
I give him.

-We should make him get up.
-Don't rush him.

Maybe we're trying too hard
to cheer him

and it's just making him
feel worse.

Sounds like good sense, Grandma.

The problem isn't how we can
help that boy...

but how we can help
him help himself.

I've been kicking around
with an idea.

What is it, John-Boy?

Well, how about a baseball
game...

between us,
the Walton's Mountain team,

and Jefferson County Boys'
Home team?

That sounds like fun.

The important thing is that the
manager of the visiting team...

-could be none other than--
-Hobie!

-Hobie Shank.
-That's a real good idea.

Can I tell Hobie?

Not sure he'd be in a mood
to hear that now.

Let's get it
started first?

I can round up some guys
for our team.

-I'm playing
-Well, that's a good idea.

Well, I think Jason....

What?

Hobie's packing his bag.
He's gonna leave.

Maybe we shouldn't have
waited so long to tell him.

I think he guessed.
That's why he's ducking out.

Where's Daddy?

He's delivering some wood
over at the paper mill.

-Hobie still up in his room?
-Yeah.

You figure with my daddy gone,
you can just take off

without saying goodbye?

You're running away from that
baseball game tomorrow, right?

You think I'll watch a bunch
of orphans playing ball...

and all of a sudden I'm gonna
feel better?

We were going to tell you
tonight.

I heard Jim-Bob
and Elizabeth talking.

Didn't take much to figure out
what's going on.

-Tell me, where are you going?
-Who cares?

Poor Hobie! Run into a little
bad luck...

he's gonna spend his life
sulking, and the devil.

You don't give me that guff
about me owing somebody.

It's the truth.

Look, you run away
all you want to.

You spend the your life running
when something bad happens...

but you're not gonna
hurt my father.

-What do you mean?
-He cares about you.

He's been good, he's treated you
decently...

and he's gonna be
treated decently too.

You're not leaving without
saying a proper goodbye to him.

Because he cares about you.
A lot of people here do.

Alright, I'll do my duty to your
daddy, but tomorrow morning...

I'm gonna shake off the dust
of this mountain

so fast it'll make
your head spin!

That's fine with me.

I didn't have any better luck
with him than you did.

He's gonna hit the road
if it kills him.

-It's 2 a glass.
-I only have a penny.

Well, I guess
you can't have any.

Well, our mama did make
the lemonade.

Alright, half a glass
for a penny.

Let's play ball.

Come on, Dad. Let's show them
some Pepper, huh?

Alright.

Alright, now, team,
let's get out there and play.

-Come on!
-Alright.

I brought you here.
Might as well take you away.

That's alright, Sheriff.

There's a law against
hitchhiking.

So unless you want to walk to
the county line

you'd best get in.

-Alright.
-Come on.

Safe!

Alright, now. Take it easy.
Settle down, fellas.

Just settle down.
Take it easy.

Come on, Jason.

-What inning is it?
-Top of the last inning.

Only one out. But we're ahead
five to two.

Well, we might as well
stay for the end.

Not me.

Suit yourself.

Come on, Jason, you can do it.

Strike!

Come on, Jason,
make him eat that horsehide.

They can't hit his fast stuff,
so now they're bunting.

-Give them the wrecker's ball.
-Alright.

Come on, brother!

Strike! Double steal!

Hold up.

Hey, Hobie's back.

Okay, kids. We need three runs
now. Back on the bench.

Let's keep this rally
going, okay?

Come on, big boy,
you can get a hold of one.

Alright, let's play ball!

-Come on, big boy!
-Come on, Jason.

-Get a hold of one.
-Right down the old pipe.

Strike!

He should have hit that.

Come on, Jason.

-Come on, brother.
-Right down the tube!

-Get a hold of one.
-Right down the old pipe.

-Strike three! You're out!
-That's okay.

Now, if the orphanage
hits another run home...

and they hit some more
strikes...

then it's gonna be all tied up.

And when they do this...

that means something.

-Right across the plate.
-Come on, big boy.

Two down, one to go.

One more. Come on, do it.

Strike!

That's a good swing, Half Pint.
You'll give the next one a ride.

-Come on, big boy.
-You got this one, Jason.

-Come on, Jason.
-Show me your fast stuff.

Strike two!

That's okay, big boy.
Watch out for him.

-Play the ball.
-Watch out for him.

Keep your swing level.
Come on, big boy.

Come on, big boy!

Take it home!

We won.

Got to play heads-up, Half Pint.

You ran right by my
"hold up" sign.

-Don't run away.
-Let me go.

You're just like I am.
Bullheaded.

You got to get to that next base
no matter what.

-We lost, and it was my fault.
-The devil it is.

Why, you almost won it,
Half Pint.

Why, you boys played
one whale of a game.

I'm so proud of each and every
one of you, I could almost bust.

And, by gum, next time
we will win.

With a little more practice

and a lot better coaching
at third base.

Let's show these folks
we know how to lose.

Let's have a cheer
for the Walton's Mountain team.

-Hip, hip--
-Hooray!

Last one on the bus
is a rotten egg.

Miss Baker, those kids need
a man to tell them what for.

I know, Hobie.

Then there's no sense in me
beating around the bush then.

I need a job, ma'am.
What do you say?

Looks to me like I just hired
an athletic director.

First thing I'm gonna do is set
up a training table, okay?

That's just fine.

Mrs. Walton, how about
sending Miss Baker...

some of those mouthwatering
recipes of yours?

As soon as I can copy it down.

I haven't congratulated
the winning manager.

-You got some team there,
-You got a team there, too.

You'll beat us next year.

Won't forget what you taught me.

And that includes you, John-Boy.

Well, I gotta get my bag.

-Bye-bye.
-Bye, fellas.

-Good game.
-You all take care!

-Bye, Hobie.
-Good luck.

You help me, now.

It's late now in Virginia.

That ball field
which once echoed

to the sounds
of our games is quiet...

Except for the call of
crickets...

and the ghost of the children
we were.

For my brothers and sisters
and I are all grown now...

and our children play
other games

in places far from
Walton's Mountain.

Still, there is something
about the fall of night...

that turns our thoughts
homeward.

Jason?

If you lose an ant one day, you
reckon you find him the next?

If you tied a can
to his tail, maybe.

You ought to study up on ants,
Jim-Bob.

They're a regular curiosity.

What you boys had better study
up on is getting some sleep.

Goodnight.

Goodnight, Daddy.
Goodnight, Mama.

Goodnight, boys
Goodnight, everybody.

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