All language subtitles for Brockmire - 03x01 - Clubhouse Cancer.WEBRip.x264-TBS.English.C.orig.Addic7ed.com

Boy, have I had trouble
sleeping lately.

My sober mind, it just races through

all the clarity and the silence.

Brockmire,

really finding his rhythm now.

Masturbation, my best defense

against the seemingly endless nights.

Bye, bye, birdie.

Carnal knowledge.

Oh, "Newsies"!

When that wore off,

I tried to exhaust myself with hobbies.

Ah, yeah.

And you can be right next to Howard.

But that turned tedious,

so I went back to masturbation.

Oh, Christmas is coming!

Hoo, Merry Christmas, everybody.

Merry Christmas.

distant voice: Help.

And that's when I started
hearing the voice.

Help.

- Help.
- It was monotone,

but, God, it was unrelenting.

- Help.
- And then it happened again

- the next night.
- Help.

- And the night after that.
- Help.

- Help. Help.
- And the night after that.

No matter where I looked,

I just... I couldn't find the source.

Help.

Help.

Help.

Help. Help.

- Help.
- There was only one explanation.

I was chasing a voice inside
my own head.

But what the hell was I
trying to tell myself?

I mean, I didn't know whether
I was supposed to

help the world or my friends or myself.

So I just got down on my knees

and I said a prayer to all three.

And I just sank into serenity
like a warm bath.

Quick footnote to that story,

turns out I wasn't the voice at all.

That was the voice of my
86-year-old neighbor, Eunice.

See, my super explained to me
that Eunice

has 24-hour in-home care,
except for a 5-minute gap

due to the bus schedules
of both of her nurses.

And she just screams her head off

throughout that entire
five minutes. Ha.

Yeah, then my super
offered me some Oxy.

Even for Florida,

the whole thing was extremely Florida.

Any hoodles, that's my share,

so don't forget to tip
that donation box, people.

God bless, you.

So long.

You're supposed to listen
to the other people speak.

I know. I'm running out
to a work thing.

Maybe.

That's not why you're leaving.

How you doing there?

- My name's Jim Brockmire.
- I know who you are.

- Oh, yeah?
- Mm-hmm.

Is that a positive or a
negative for me in this moment?

It's a lot of both.

Well, that seems to be
the general consensus.

Look, despite what you might think,

I take my sobriety very seriously.

I'm looking for a sponsor while
I'm here for spring training.

So...

Are you interested or what?

I'll be your sponsor,

if you tell the truth about
the end of your share.

I did tell you the truth
about the end of my share.

There was a woman crying out
for help, scared and alone.

What did you do about it?

I soundproofed the townhouse.

Now I'll be your sponsor.

How'd you know that was true?

Truth always sounds awful
when you hear it out loud.

Ah.

Ain't that the truth?

Jesus, this Florida humidity.

Gene Kelly is swinging an umbrella

all up in my swamp ass.

Okay.

As some of you may have already heard,

I'm about to head on to
the DL for a little while.

- Kick cancer's ass, Bat!
- Yeah!

Non-Hodgkin's lymphoma
doesn't know what it's in for!

Thanks, fellas.
The, uh, outpouring of support

from everybody, especially the fans,

has been truly special.
So while I'm laid up,

holding things down on the radio side

will be these two superstars.

First up, two-time NCAA

champion softball legend, Gabby Taylor.

Thank you.
It is an honor and a privilege

to be sharing the stage
with you today, Bat.

And joining Gabby in the
booth will be Jim Brockmire.

Jim, you wanna have your public
meltdown now or later?

Oh, well.

Yeah, my... at this point
in my last press conference,

I'd been tazed and stripped down naked,

so this is already
a tremendous win for me.

But in all seriousness,

I'm so grateful to be back
around the game I love so much.

It's been a very long road back.

I have been truly humbled both
personally and professionally. and,

well, I'm here to tell you
that I arrived here

a very different man.

What kind of a joyless golem
serves soup in a green room?

Are they requesting that we
eat it out of a cup,

out of some kind of failed
attempt at shabby chic?

Nope, helter-skelter,
forgot the bowls. Hey!

Just don't eat the soup.

Jesus. Look at this shit.

It's like a goddamn
public school cafeteria.

- Right?
- Hey, Bat, if you're hungry,

I'd love to take you out to lunch,

maybe pick your broadcasting brain?

Yeah, I'm gonna pass on lunch.

No problem, yeah, you could
probably use the downtime.

Actually, my aunt recently
battled breast cancer.

I look like I have breasts?

No.

No, you look like you're
entirely made out of muscle,

just like a human tendon, you know?

Uh, don't let the cancer fool you.

He's an asshole.

Has to make everybody
around him feel small.

It's part of his whole
Matt the Bat shenanigans.

His nickname?

He got that from being a good hitter.

Oh, no, he was
a "Punch and Judy" infielder

whose glove kept him in the game.

No, the derivation of
Matt the Bat comes from, uh...

his locker room presence.

He's got the biggest dick
in baseball history.

- Whoa, seriously?
- Oh, yeah.

Matt loves all
that alpha male bullshit.

He likes bump into you
accidentally on purpose

to make an impression.

Literally. Left a dent.

There's a density to it, Gabby.

It's like a wind sock that's
been packed with wet sand.

Any hoodles, that's where the
name Matt the Bat comes from.

Also, he's the worst.
I mean, the worst,

and despite what you might have
heard about me...

I-I. No, I'm not.

I wanna assure you,
sobriety has changed me.

Okay, really. I am no longer
that reckless say-anything Jim.

You just spent the last two minutes

going into aggressive detail
about our coworker's dick.

Oh, shit, I did do that, didn't I?

God damn it, I am just...

I am not built for
the 21st century workplace.

Are we still on for lunch, because...

Can we just talk about

the dick thing again for one moment?

- Oh, my God. Why?
- Well, I want to apologize.

I wanna assure you I am no
Louie C.K. or Charlie Rose.

Although, I did once role play
as John Lasseter

at a Pixar-themed orgy one time

but, you know, I've always practiced...

- Hello!
- Oh, hey, friend.

Here you go. This thing's
getting mighty stinky.

Oh, no, no, no.

I'm your producer, Gus Barton.
How are you?

- Hi.
- Nice to see you.

- Gus Barton.
- Hi.

Do you mind if I ask you
your qualifications, sir?

I don't mind at all.

Worked for the Montreal Expos.

The Expos left in 2004.

Yup.

So I spent the last 15 years
living in Montreal

raising three kids while
my wife taught at McGill.

The soup foretold all of this.

So my wife jokes
that I'd be the perfect guy

to produce a career killer
like Jim Brockmire,

because my career is already dead.

- Mmm.
- She's got a very dark

sense of humor.

I think that's what
cost her her tenure.

2014 was a tough year.

Nobody thinks that I'm a career killer.

That's the first thing my agent said

when he called to tell me
we were paired together.

One, two, three, four,

five, six, count me,
that's seven, eight.

Yeah, no,
that's a lot of careers. Okay.

- Ohh...
- No, no, no, no,

this is when I do
a daily moral inventory.

All right, note to self.

"Stop killing people's careers."

Boom. Problem solved.

Thank you for inviting me
to the broadcaster's dinner.

- Sure.
- I drove past it twice.

I didn't think a nice
restaurant would be

in such a run-down strip mall.

All of Central Florida's
a run-down strip mall.

This complex alone
is a Pentecostal church,

a gun shop, and a Jersey Mike's.

Here they are.

Hey, boys.

Ah, hmm, looks like we're gonna need

one more chair here, my friend.

No, no, no, don't bother with that.

We don't have room.

Right, well, message received.

Oh, no, no, no, this is some

industrial-grade bullshit right here.

Look, I sympathize with you, I do.

All the things you consider
to be good, clean fun

are now considered to be
mean and sexist,

but, you know, that's just
'cause they are.

The chair is for Gabby.

- Oh.
- She's a ball player.

Well, I don't understand.

Well, we don't like you, Brockmire.

- Oh.
- At your very best,

you are like a circus bear

who would stumble around
for the crowd to laugh at.

- Ho ho hoo.
- Now, when they trot you out,

it is just sad.

Somebody should have
taken you behind the tent

and shot you years ago.

Well, well, well...

- Jim, are you okay?
- No, please, I'm fine.

Just... I'm a little more
emotional these days

than I used to be. You stay.

I'll grab a bite at the Jersey Mike's.

Maybe swing by the Pentecostal church,

watch a little snake handling
to go along with my

aggressively oily sammie.

What the shit!

Well, don't just let it
hang out in my house.

Kill it. Shoot it.

I don't carry a gun.

Isn't that the whole point of Florida?

Hey, I didn't get into this job

to kill defenseless animals, all right?

I did it to kill gators.

But I'm not harming that poor,
defenseless tortoise.

That big guy hibernates in the winter.

Now, I'm guessing they turned
the heat on a few days early...

I'm sure his life
has all the complexity

of a Russian novel, all right?

Can you please just get it
the hell out of here?

Look, it's coming at us.

It's an elderly animal.
No one's gonna adopt it.

Betty White is an elderly animal.

That is a boring monster
who smells like dead, wet dog.

If I take him, it's a death sentence.

Okay.

I'm good with that.

It's probably for the best.

Darwin.

There you go.

Ugh!

- What's in the folder?
- Research.

Fun facts for the big broadcast.

God, I love the public library.

It's America's greatest institution.

Yeah, the last time I was
in a public library

I saw three different homeless
people masturbating.

Yeah, not a great time
for American institutions.

- No. I got you something.
- Oh.

In softball, the entire team
always wears something

on opening day as a sign of unity.

The best team I was ever on
did this tour through China

where I got these pins.

I thought we could wear them.

Oh, that's so sweet and thoughtful.

Thank you.

So what, you wear one, I wear one,

and then we put one on the desk to like

represent the audience?

No, the third pin is for Gus.

Oh, gross. No. Come on. No.

He's not part of the team.
We're the talent.

You don't give Gus a gift
for the same reason

you don't feed a dog from the table.

Very important that he always
knows his place.

- What an asshole.
- Oh, man,

he's just the worst, isn't he?

- Not him. You.
- Right.

My philosophy about broadcasting is

you don't sweat the small stuff.

- And you know what?
- Ooh, don't say it.

It's all small stuff.

And you wanted to give him a pin.

You see, we are
the part-time radio crew

of the cheapest organization
in baseball.

So enjoy the view from the
bottom of the broadcast barrel.

- Relax, put on your headphones...
- Don't do headphones.

Can't stand the sound of my own voice.

Really? Now, see,

I assumed you
masturbated to your own voice.

My real voice, sure, but no headphone

can capture the complex bourbon
and butter flavor

of my actual timbre.

Jim, I get the impression

that you don't respect me
as a producer.

Well, Gus, I'm so sorry.

I did not mean to give you
that impression.

I should have been more clear.

I 100% don't respect you
as a producer or as a man.

Gus, I guess I don't respect
you in totality.

Fine, one man's opinion.

How about you, Gabby, huh?

What do you think?

Really? How come?

Well, it starts with the overalls

and then it just kind of
branches out from there.

Overalls allow me to fully
experience the freedom of life

without undergarments.

- Ohh...
- And you guys,

y-you voluntarily wear
the 100% cotton chastity belts,

and I'm the weirdo, huh?

All right, Jim, you don't wear
headphones, fine.

I'll just poke you with a big stick

whenever I need to tell you something.

Okay, headphones. Let's see.

Testing, one, two. Testing.

Folks. Folks, that ball is
Maria-Conchita-a-gone-zo.

Well, these thing's are broken

because my voice sounds
ridiculous through them.

All right, we're on
in three, two, one...

Welcome, everybody,
to the inaugural season

at Oaklands's brand-new
spring training facility

here in Seascape, Florida.

I am Jim Brockmire.

I'm joined by my partner, Gabby Taylor.

Very excited to be joining
you in the booth today, Jim,

in this lovely new stadium.

It is a beautiful spring
afternoon for baseball here

at King Venom Vape Cartridge Stadium.

Few fun facts
about the city of Seascape,

our home for the next six weeks...

two years ago, its mostly
elderly and retired citizens

were duped. They were tricked

into paying for this stadium
by voting yes

on the misleadingly named
Make Grandchildren Visit Act.

So a $200-million-stadium was built

that nobody wanted and had
no team to occupy it.

In order to lure Oakland

to come all the way across the country,

the city of Seascape had to
promise them free rent,

so we are party here today
to a civic boondoggle

of just epic proportions.

I mean, swimming pools drained,

children's educations thwarted,

shut-in's meals undelivered...

all in the name of King Venom
Vape Cartridge Stadium.

"King Venom Vape Cartridges,

"the best in the biz.
And we're not blowing smoke.

We're blowing flavor infused
vapor, ash-holezzz."

Boy, that seemed needlessly aggressive.

That's enough, Jim.

Are you kidding, sir?
We are on the air here.

No, we're not.

I knew you were gonna pull this
shit during the first game,

so I lied to you about
starting the broadcast.

We're actually on the air now.

Oh, no, 20 seconds ago.

20 seconds ago?

What the fuck was that?

Everything I said was public record.

It was all in the newspaper.

What is the big deal?

You make a big show
about how different you are,

but going from drunk asshole
to sober asshole

isn't the dramatic makeover
you think it is.

It's not like I dragged you into it.

Yes, you did. We are partners.

My future is handcuffed to yours,

and as a black woman in the same game

that protected Art Newlie,

I'm not gonna get
chance after chance like you.

This is it. I get the one.

If that mic had been live,
you could have ended my career.

Well, no, no, I could not have,

'cause remember I wrote that
down in the book?

No, 'member?

I did write it.

In, in, in...

- Oh, boy.
- Hey.

Heard you had dead air
on your first broadcast.

Wow!

Seriously, if you want to go
back behind the tent,

I'll make it quick.

No, stay away from me
with the penis bullshit!

Too fast for you!

Two legs are always quicker than three.

Oh, shit!

Ow.

Oh, gross!

God damn it.

Come here.

There you go.

Have a nice life.

Jim, you wanna have your
public meltdown now or later?

Going from drunk asshole
to sober asshole...

There was a woman crying out for help,

scared and alone.
What did you do about it?

You can't change.

You were born broken and made worse.

Little piece of shit.

You are just a miserable piece of shit!

What's going on?

What's going on is
I haven't slept in a week.

Almost got fired my first day,

everybody at work hates my guts.

I mean, as insane as this might
sound to say out loud,

it's like nobody
even cares that I am sober.

They don't. Jesus. What do you expect?

A parade?

Para... A party, maybe.

You know, lots of soda,
and people hugging me,

telling me how proud they are of me.

Maybe Joe Buck'd give a speech.

Everybody chips in and buys me a star.

You know, like a constellation.
I'm just spitballing.

God, Earl's gonna love that one.

I thought this was
supposed to be anonymous.

Oh, yeah, no, no, it is.

Don't worry, I never mention
you by name.

I just told him you were
a famous sportscaster

known for a string of public meltdowns.

Well, that narrows it down
to me and Marv Albert,

and Marv ain't in Seascape, Shirley.

Look, people are just gonna doubt you

till you can prove you're
making different choices.

But I am making different choices.

In the old days, I would have
ripped Matt and new one.

Nobody talks to me like that
and gets a pass,

but I held my tongue
on account of the cancer.

You want credit for not
insulting a man with cancer?

Yeah!

I'm gonna guess you started
drinking at, uh, 15.

That's right. How did you know that?

Well, an alcoholic's maturity
usually freezes in time

right about when they first
pick up the bottle.

Also I have a shitty, know-it-all

15-year-old at home.

Makes sense.

I do jerk it like a 15-year-old.

He buys these Costco-sized
tubs of lotion

for his dry hands.

I still don't know why
he needs the candles.

Mm. You know,

sometimes you want to treat yourself.

I often put on Sade...

make a night of it.

Okay, so, look,

the key to relationships

is to learn how to be in one

without expecting anything in return.

Well, how's that a relationship?

Where's the transaction?

Just start out with a plant.

Or, you know, a very
low-maintenance pet

like a lizard, or a snake,

I don't know. You know? A frog.

I wouldn't even know
where to get one of those.

Hey.

You were right, okay? I'm an asshole.

I'm a total asshole.

I want to be a good person like you.

I really do.

I just have no idea how to go about it.

I know that not littering
figures prominently.

Beyond that, I'm just winging it.

Please be patient with me, okay?

I promise you I'm gonna do better.

Hmm. I see you're wearing that pin

in a cheap ploy to win my affection.

Cheap?

Paid a fortune to have these
overnighted from China.

I gave one to Gus,
and I apologized to him.

Hmm.

Yeah, I thought you might be skeptical,

so I took a picture of us

with today's paper as proof of pin.

- Huh.
- See?

I really want to be on
your team, Gabby.

And even more than that,
I'd like to be your friend.

Okay, yeah, I mean,

I don't know about friend,

but I could use a workout partner.

I'll take what I can get.

Now, I've been exercising
a lot since I got sober.

I'm not the fastest runner
in the world,

but are you familiar with
the story of the tortoise and...

- Shit!
- What?

Where are you going?

I just threw away my one chance

at healthy, adult relationships.

Turtle!

How far could you get?

Help.

Help...

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