Original subtitles

Oscar!

Yeah, here.

Oscar!

You son of a gun!

You devil!

Congratulations!

What? What?

What is this? What are you doing?

Never mind.

Look, what's this? What?

"Alex Karras will be missing from Monday Night Football

"for two weeks because of a film commitment.

"Among those being considered as the third man

"with Howard Cosell and Frank Gifford

is well-known sports columnist Oscar Madison."

I read it. I read it. So?

So?!

You're being considered for one of broadcasting's biggest plums,

all it rates from you is a "so?"

Look, what are you doing?

All right. Don't...

I'm not even involved. I give it a "whoopee!"

Well, save your whoopees, will you?

It's only a one-shot.

Karras is coming back, you know.

This could lead to bigger and better things:

college football announcing,

the Olympics. You get to go to Moscow.

Will you take me with you? Forget it. I'm not gonna get the job.

Well, how do you know you're not gonna get the job?

Look at this.

'Cause Howard Cosell hates me.

Remember what I wrote about him two weeks ago?

I called him the mouth that bored.

Yeah, but who reads your column?

Well, maybe somebody read it to him.

When I heard about this Monday thing, I called him twice.

He didn't return either call.

I'm telling you, I think he still carries a grudge.

He'll return my calls.

Why?

Do you know what Howard Cosell loves

more than anything else in this world?

Himself.

More than that. Who?

Martina Arroyo, the great opera singer.

That's right, and he's an opera buff, right?

He's a bigger opera groupie than I am,

and I'm the guy who followed Joan Sutherland

into a telephone booth and nearly suffocated.

He's insane about Martina Arroyo.

Yeah, but you didn't tell... How's it going to help me?

I'll introduce him to Martina Arroyo.

He'll owe me a favor; you'll cash in.

One hand washes the other.

Well, you'd never understand much about washing, would you?

Hey, but that's a terrific idea.

If you set it up, I think it'll work.

I mean it.

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

The Odd Couple was filmed in front of a live audience.

Members of the Lexington Avenue Opera Club of Central Park West,

today is the greatest day in our history,

for we're being honored with the appearance of one

of the world's greatest opera singers: Miss Martina Arroyo.

Now, we're all dying to hear you sing, Miss Arroyo,

and she will in a minute.

We're-we're awaiting the arrival of one more superstar.

Oh, we appreciate this so much.

Anything for you, Felix.

You're the only photographer

that can make me look like Twiggy.

There he is!

There he is!

Well...

How are you, Howie?

Don't call me Howie!

Miss Arroyo!

For me, the culmination of a life's dream.

Thank you, Mr. Cosell.

At my suggestion, Miss Arroyo's going to sing

an aria especially for you.

I am overwhelmed, my dear. Thank you.

Sit down. Yes.

Guest-of-honor chair.

Here we are. Oh, don't you look nice.

Look how nice...

You don't have the little "ABC" on your chest there.

Congratulations, Unger.

You can read "ABC."

Next week we'll have you up to "D."

You're such a kidder.

All right, now, Miss Arroyo will sing

"Tace La Notte" from Il Trovatore.

♪ ♪

Oh, that's wonderful, wonderful.

Wasn't that exciting, Howie?

Don't call me Howie!

Sorry.

All right, Unger, I guess I owe you one.

Yeah, well, that's sort of what we figured.

What is it you want me to do?

It-it-it's not for me. It's for Oscar.

More than anything on Earth,

he wants to be on Monday Night Football.

Unger, that's out of my hands.

I don't tell the network who to hire.

Mr. Cosell, I'm quite surprised.

A man of your great influence,

and you can't do anything for Oscar?

I don't know why Muhammad Ali talks to you.

Oh, you've really gone down a peg in her eyes.

Just because you don't like Oscar?

Are you kidding?

I'd love to have Oscar.

I think he'd be terrific.

I-I thought you were mad at him.

I am!

The man has written tasteless things about me

in his column, and I can't think of a better way

to get even than by having him on my show.

I don't understand.

Let me elucidate, Unger.

You're a little slow.

Monday Night Football is a big hit,

because, in addition to seeing the game,

the viewers love to hear the three of us

trade insults.

Yeah, yeah. Heap abuse, the one upon the other.

Yeah, yeah. And with a witless boob like Madison in the booth,

I'd have a field day.

You know, I'm going to do it.

Miss Arroyo...

you have convinced me, my dear.

I am going to insist on using Oscar Madison.

Oh, wonderful!

Aw, think nothing of it, my dear.

My pleasure. Thank you, Mr. Cosell.

By the way, Unger, your apartment is furnished

in questionable taste.

And, oh, yes, Miss Arroyo,

I hope I have the opportunity of repaying the favor soon.

Perhaps I shall do an aria for you.

Good-bye, Mr. Cosell.

My dear, you may call me Howie.

Oh, no, no, no, Miss Arroyo, you don't have to do that.

Oh, I can't even leave a room without cleaning up.

I'm compulsive that way.

What a wonderful way to be.

I'll get your coat.

Felix!

Oh, hi. Hi.

You must be Oscar.

Yeah.

Oscar!

Ah, you met Miss Arroyo, huh?

Who?

This is Martina Arroyo.

Oh, hi. Hi.

You make her clean up, too?!

She's compulsive that way.

She's a neat freak.

Yeah, I like to help.

Well, you sure helped me; I got that job.

You got it! Yeah, that's why I rushed home.

I got a call from the network.

See, I'm gonna do one game with Cosell.

He's going to announce it on his radio show.

Oscar, you can't take that job.

What? You can't take that job!

Why not?

Just believe me. You can't do it.

Felix, I would kill for that job.

If I'm good, they'll put me on Wide World of Sports.

He wants to cut you up.

He wants to expose you as a buffoon and a boob.

Those are his words.

You mean, he wants to give me the job

so he can make a fool out of me?

That's right, in front of 40 million people.

I don't believe that.

I'm telling you the truth.

You can't take it. You better be prepared.

I don't think I have to prepare!

I don't think he's as big an ogre

as everybody makes him out to be.

I'm gonna listen to him on the radio.

All right, all right, come on.

I'll take you home.

He won't listen to me.

He's a very, very strange man.

I know. I found his shorts in the oven.

The players won't speak to you;

the alumni are after you;

the college is considering dropping football;

and even your children have had their names legally changed.

I'll prepare a little.

Coach Carter has just written out his resignation.

I told you I'd get him, and I got him.

I'll prepare a lot.

Let me turn the sound up. - No, no, no, no.

We're going to make our own sound. Why?

Next week is Oscar's turn to do the game.

So, we're going to have a simulation,

a real broadcast right here.

Hey, can I say hello to my mother? Yes.

Sit down.

I've really been studying a lot.

I've memorized the number of every football player.

Fine. But how will you respond

to Howard Cosell's sarcasm? That's the problem.

With wit. I'll top him every time.

Don't worry about that.

Now, here are our microphones.

Here, you take that one.

Can-Can I have the eggbeater?

Give him the eggbeater.

All right, now...

I'll be Howard Cosell. You'll be you.

You'll be Frank Gifford.

Hey, he's the cute one.

Great.

Now I'm going to treat you mercilessly,

just the way Cosell will, so respond in kind.

Don't hold back the venom; let me have it.

I'm going to give it to you...

Now, keep your eye. We'll do the game.

Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen.

This is Howard Cosell,

bringing you the thrill of victory

and the agony of defeat.

With me in the booth is my indestructible sidekick,

the Giffer, Number 16... Frank Gifford.

How does today's gridiron pairing strike up with you?

Well, Howard, it's obvious

these two squads came out here to play today.

I'm looking forward to a real donnybrook.

And a big hello

to Mrs. Fanny Greshler of Miami Beach.

Will she be able to see me?

Thank you, Giff.

Also with us in the booth

is a man who has been writing a sports column for 16 years

and still hasn't learned how to get it right:

one of America's true illiterates, Oscar Madison.

Same to you, Howard.

Did you hear that, ladies and gentlemen?

What a quick wit.

Aw, shut up!

Well, you got me that time, Madison.

So's your old man.

A Renaissance man with a Neanderthal mind.

Aah, your mother wears army boots.

Come on, you guys. We've got a game to do.

What are you doing? What is that?

That's not wit! What?

"So's your old man..."

Who knows what's witty? What is witty?

What witty men say. That's what's witty.

Like what?

Emerson said, "A foolish consistency

is the hobgoblin of little minds."

And how often does a hobgoblin come up during a football game

when a guy misses a forward pass?

De La Rochefoucauld said:

"There is something in the misfortunes

"of even our dearest friends,

which is not entirely displeasing to us."

Is that what he said? Yes.

Well, I'm gonna get the help of a professional.

Who?

The wittiest man I know: Joey Birney.

Joey Birney?! Yeah.

The nightclub comic?

He can make jokes on anybody.

You know what he said to Queen Elizabeth?

What?

"Don't fall down and break your crown!"

That was in Earl Wilson's column as one of Earl's Pearls.

I'm sorry, Emerson never made Earl's Pearls.

He's on the 30.

He's on the 20.

He's on the ten... Touchdown!

Giving Pittsburgh an early lead.

By the way,

aren't the cops doing a great job of crowd control?

I hope you're...

Hey.

Toulouse-Lautrec.

Are my Bermuda shorts ready?

Hey, Joey.

I've gotta get out of here, warden.

I can't eat this slop anymore.

Joey...

Oh, I went to Havana on one of those cruises

for $49.50... Joey...

A silent butler: Hello, hello. It's all right?

Okay. All right? Okay.

I'm glad you could come, Joey.

I came right over the minute I got your message, Oscar.

How do you feel? You look terrible.

I just came back from a doctor.

He told me I've got the body of a 25-year-old.

I said, "Don't tell my wife. She'll make me give it back."

Listen, Joey... What a place?

It's done in Early Disaster.

Look at this. Fruit, and people are starving in Yugoslavia.

Wax fruit. What are you expecting, wax people?

Quick impression: Madame Ouspenskaya.

Come on, Joey, please.

Look, I want you to do me a favor.

What? What? What? I need some insults, put-downs.

Insults? Yeah.

Oh, put-downs, insults, insults...

Let me see. My wife is so ugly, I take her everywhere.

It's better than kissing her good-bye.

No, no, see... Oh, she has long black hair;

luckily, she has long gloves to cover it.

No, Joey... That's a goody. I'm rolling.

I know you are, but see,

it's not a woman that I want to insult.

What? A turkey? Hockey puck?

A chair? A table? A man! A man!

A man. Oh, a man, a man.

Uh... Hey, buddy, give me a blueprint of your brains.

I'm building an idiot.

You may be strange, but you're exceptional.

You're exceptionally strange.

No... That's not so good.

Oh! I got one now.

If brains were dynamite,

You wouldn't have enough to blow your nose.

How'd you hear that one? I just bought it.

No, you're terrific. See...

But look, these are for someone specific.

Specific? Yeah. Howard Cosell.

Howard, Howard... Howard Cosell? Yeah.

Oh, Cosell! You mean the...

the sports guy. That's the guy, yeah.

Oh, the big guy. Yeah, yeah.

Oh, the one with the long-playing tongue

and the hi-fi head.

Good, good! Yeah...

I got it. You say to him,

"Hey, Cosell, I'd like to see

Evel Knievel jump over your mouth." Huh? Good, good!

Yeah, with your tongue and a loaf of rye bread,

you could open a delicatessen.

That's good, yeah.

Hey, Cosell, why don't one of your relatives die

and leave you a little talent.

That's good, Joey. You like that? Okay.

Cosell, I got two words to describe you:

tall and cheap. Good. Good.

Listen, why don't you go home, think about it,

write them out, will you?

I'll write them out. Okay. I'll see you in about a week.

Remember the words of Alexander Graham Bell,

who said to his wife in bed,

"What do you mean my three minutes are up?"

Hey, buddy.

What do you think? You like it?

If I'm good, they do the alterations.

Oscar, I've been reading this material you got

from Joey Birney.

Are you really gonna do this stuff?

It cost me $35.

I think you'll get more laughs with the jacket.

Will you cut it out.

I'm gonna make mincemeat out of that guy.

Look how smug he is in there.

I'm gonna tear him apart.

With typewritten insults, you're gonna tear him apart?

Felix, this is my big chance.

You see that guy in there? That's Roone Arledge.

He's head of the whole sports department.

He's gonna be watching me.

Now look, Howard, I know you don't like Madison.

But give the guy a chance, will you?

If he's any good at all, we'll have him back

and really let him have it next week.

Okay, Roone.

As a matter of fact, I think you're right.

I'll give him every courtesy

and consideration.

Besides, I'm kind of curious to see how he'll do.

You know, he's really not a bad sort.

No, I think you'll like him.

Get ready, will you? We have three seconds to go.

They're rolling the opening. Good luck and be great.

Hello again, everyone. This is Howard Cosell.

We're awaiting the start of a preseason clash

between Paul Brown's unbeaten Cincinnati Bengals

and a rebuilding New York Jets football team.

Normally, old Number 16, the Giffer, Frank Gifford,

would be my sidekick tonight,

but the Giffer has been sidelined,

clipped by the flu bug.

It's my pleasure to say, however,

that we have the pleasure of bringing in

a new voice on the sportscasting horizon tonight:

the winner of many journalism awards,

and I think, perhaps, the most knowledgeable

and responsible sports columnist of them all...

Mr. Oscar Madison!

Thanks, Needle-nose.

Listen, Howard, is that a new jacket you've got on there,

or did you just have the old one repainted?

Oscar, as an acknowledged expert on professional football,

how do you see tonight's game?

A lot better than you do without your glasses, Four-Eyes.

You know, Howard, I never miss your radio show.

I never hear it, so I never miss it.

Yes, sir, Howard, you've got a great voice.

It grates on everyone.

Ladies and gentlemen,

we'll be back for the opening kickoff in just one moment.

They're gonna kill this show.

Wasn't I terrific, huh?

He ought to know better

than to match wits with me. What are you doing?!

Aren't you listening to the man? What?

He's done nothing but say nice things to you.

He's a pussycat.

He was nice, wasn't he?

Well, of course.

And there you are insulting him. I wasn't listening.

I was paying attention to this.

Give me these rotten jokes.

I'm gonna tear them up.

The man was so nice to you.

You know what you just did? What?

For the first time in broadcasting history,

you've got an audience rooting for Howard Cosell.

Well, Roone, did you hear it?

I tried to be nice,

and what I got was a cut-rate lowered-case Don Rickles.

The man is obviously an insensitive dolt.

Yes, I heard it, and you're right.

I thought you handled it beautifully.

I thought you acted like a prince.

As far as I'm concerned, Howard,

whatever you do from now on is up to you.

Handle it the way you want.

You got it.

All right, ladies and gentlemen,

that's Horst Muhlmann of the Cincinnati Bengals,

teeing up the ball for the kickoff.

And I must say, Muhlmann has quite an interesting story

behind him, doesn't he, Oscar?

That's right, Howard. That's right.

Muhlmann is just one of the many fine

soccer-style kickers we've got from Europe.

Didn't you once write in a column

that the soccer-style kickers

would never make it in the NFL, Madison?

Well, that was about five years ago...

Of course, 20/20 hindsight.

Number 12, Joe Namath,

quarterback for the New York Jets,

out on the field now.

Ready to move his team.

Namath has just thrown a 19-yard pass down the middle.

What's your view of Namath this year, Madison?

Pretty good, Howard, pretty good.

That knee doesn't seem to be giving him that much trouble.

Don't you remember that great exclusive of yours,

just one year ago,

announcing Joe's early retirement from football?

He changed his mind.

Never mind.

A Jet lineman apparently injured on the play.

That was a great pass against a terrific Bengal defense.

How do you know it's a terrific defense?

They play a great seven-man zone.

Who told you about it?

Nobody. I know all about zones.

Why do you think I'm betting $100

and laying seven points on the Bengal...

I don't believe I said that.

Betting $100 and giving seven points on the Bengals.

You heard it here, ladies and gentlemen.

A bare-faced admission

of professional football wagering.

I suspect, Madison, that the commissioner of the NFL,

Alvin Pete Rozelle,

is awaiting your explanation.

Well, you see, I...

Say something!

Well, I was in this bar...

I wish some relative of yours would die

and leave you some wax fruit.

I'd like to see Evel Knievel jump

over your Bermuda shorts.

You know your Lautrec is too loose?

After this commercial, one of us will be back.

Let's put up a minute spot on mental health.

And here's where you are, Howard, in tomorrow's column.

"His insults and barbs are just a small part of a big man,

"a man whose style is totally unique.

"Howard Cosell has the attention of 40 million Americans

every Monday night."

What are you trying to do, Madison,

ruin my image?

If possible.

Listen, I want to thank you

for really copping out for me on the air.

Don't mention it.

I knew you were nervous. I can understand it.

After all, you were sitting next to me.