All language subtitles for Brockmire - 03x02 - Player to be Named Later.WEBRip.x264-TBS.English.C.updated.Addic7ed.com

Julia James. I'm here for the meeting.

They're not quite ready for you.

Do you have a bathroom?

I just want to freshen up a bit.

Yeah, right over here.
But, girl, you look good.

Shit.

Shit.

They're ready... for you...

Who's the most stylish woman
in the office about my size?

- Chantal, why...
- I need you to go to Chantal.

Tell her there's a woman
in the bathroom

who will give her $200 cash
for her top.

Come on! I need your help.

I'm about to go into my tryouts
for the big leagues.

If I show up like a girl
from Morristown

who got nervous and pitted out,

it's over before I even open my mouth.

Please.

Give her the money.

You don't like what I'm wearing?

I just think we have
different taste levels,

but it looks great on you.

Mr. Benjamin, you and I actually

have something in common.

We're both owners, and while Morristown

may be a different market
than Tampa Bay,

we face the same problem...

baseball is dying.

You've seen the demographics.

Anyone under the age of 20
would rather watch e-sports

than a baseball game.

But I was able to increase attendance

in Scranton Wilkes-Barre by 60%. How?

'Cause I know there's one
inescapable fact about baseball.

It's fun to go see a game.

Maybe boring as shit to watch on TV,

fade into the background on the radio,

but in person...

it's like the goddamn circus
came to town.

Except without all
the elephant torture.

What's your proposal?

Pick your worst
spring training home date,

the one you know right now
will be impossible to draw.

Allow me to run a promotion on it.

I guarantee it'll sell out,

because even with the
obstacles Tampa Bay faces,

a shrinking fan base, a bad team,

the gator incident of '09...

Hey, that man still swears
it was consensual.

I know how to get people
to come to a baseball game.

And once I prove it,

you'll want to hire my
consulting company,

Julia James Promotions,
on some regular season dates.

Wednesday, March 13.

It's a 10:00 a.m. start time
due to a rodeo

that's taking place in the parking lot.

So the whole place'll smell
like cow shit.

How's that sound to you?

Like perfection.

Who we playing?

Oakland.

Great.

I don't really believe in
fate, or destiny,

or good things happening,

but the fact that Jules'
major league debut

is the same game that we're calling...

- I mean, what are the odds?
- Pretty good, considering

you're both starting at the bottom

for the two worst
franchises in baseball.

Well, thank you, Gabby.

You are the wind above my wings.

So what's going on with you two?

You getting back together, or...

I don't know. I mean,

one scenario that could play itself out

is we start with one to two
phone calls a week

and the occasional brunch.

On a lark, we get a timeshare
together in Ojai

with some mutual friends,

and, no, that's when
the intimacy returns.

With a soupçon of sexual tension

thrown into the broth there.

In three to eight years,

when I finally do get my shit together,

we marry at the Ojai house

which is where it all began
for us, really.

Our rescue dog, Satchel,

'cause we're not exactly sure
how old he is,

he's gonna be the ring bearer.

So you're playing it cool. That's good.

That's our story, but what about you?

Are you seeing anybody?

Uh, I'm married, actually,
to my wife, Gayle.

No wonder we get along so well.

I'm one of those straight men
who has always preferred

the company of lesbians.

Oh, you mean like a "Dyke Mike"?

- Yeah, exactly.
- No, I just made that up.

What you're describing does not exist.

Now wait, check out my bona fides here.

My sister Jean
just came out as a lesbian.

She's one of my best friends.

I've seen all six seasons
of the "L Word."

God, I'm such a Bette.

And, oh, Melissa Etheridge and I,

we invented our own strain of
weed three years ago.

- We called it O.G. Bush.
- I don't get it.

- See, 'cause it rhymes with kush.
- Yeah.

- No, I get it. Listen,
- Oh. Oh.

I don't like to discuss
my sexuality at work,

'cause all it does is embolden
straight white guys

to ask me a bunch of stupid,
personal questions.

- Just... one question...
- Nope. Nope. Nope.

If you ask me who leads when
we dance, I swear to God.

No, my question is
how do lesbians always

remain such good friends
with their exes?

- That's a stereotype.
- Is it though?

May I say that you look
very nice today.

And I... no, I mean that
in whatever way is appropriate

to this current...

Thank you.

Do you mind if I drink in front of you?

If it's a trigger,
I can put it in a paper bag

or just take nips in the bathroom.

That's very considerate,
but, no, I don't mind

if people drink in front of me.

No, my only triggers are dive bars

and the movies of Christopher Nolan.

That's right.
You threw a whiskey bottle

- at my TV during...
- "Interstellar."

I mean, I just want to be told
the story of the goddamn movie.

I don't want to get taught a lesson

in how to solve the puzzle
of what the hell I'm watching.

Could I get a pint glass of
Chardonnay on the rocks?

I know you don't do that,

but really that just means
you haven't done it yet,

'cause it's simple.

You fill a pint glass full of ice,

then charge me for your finest
bottle of Chardonnay,

pour that bottle into the glass
till it hits the brim.

Then keep the bottle handy,
'cause I need a buzz

to make it through this lunch.

I'm gonna make it worth your while.

Wow.

Oh, hey, I like Jules
with money and power,

and I think the rest of the world...

- I'm dating someone.
- I'm sorry?

I say I'm seeing someone.

Oh.

Okay.

Of course, you're great.

I'm sure you met somebody great.

- It makes sense...
- Someone you know.

Really? Okay.

Listen, new Jim, totally fine with it.

We work in the same field.

I mean, it was inevitable, right?

It'd be weird if
I didn't know this, uh...

- acquaintance?
- It's a good friend of yours.

Okay, that narrows it down
to zero, Jules.

No, I don't have any good friends.

Unless you're gonna tell me
you're dating George Brett.

I'm gonna need a top off.

I'm dating George Brett.

Jules, seriously?

'Cause he's not a good friend,
he's my one friend.

He's the only person
that sends me a birthday card.

I mean, he's my goddamn
emergency contact.

I know. That's how we met.

He was used to getting
calls from hospitals

and brothels around the world,

and then you disappeared
for a whole year.

He was worried. We all were.

He reached out, and then we hit it off.

Oh, so, I kind of
brought you guys together.

- All right.
- In a way.

- That's romantic.
- And you know I always

had a crush on
Crocodile Dundee growing up.

Yeah, well, George
is very Paul Hogan-esque.

- Give you that.
- I had to tell you,

'cause it's really serious.

We're moving in together.

Well, now that's surprising, Jules,

considering that you never

forgave me for leaving Morristown...

George is moving to Morristown.

Oh, get out of here. Come on.

- Yeah.
- Okay,

um, I need a little time with
this, but, um...

- There's more.
- Oh, really?

You're not even gonna
do me the courtesy

of stabbing in the back?

You're just gonna look me
straight in the face

as you plunge the knife in, huh?

It's not a knife, it's just my life,

but, okay, I'll drop it.

Thanks.

What is it? What?

He's up for a studio job
with Bob Costas

on the MLB network.

- Okay.
- So I figured,

since you know Costas...

I haven't spoken to Costas
since he got me

cut out of "Ken Burns's
Baseball Documentary."

Yeah, I know all about your interview.

Yeah, an interview
which will never be seen

in the definitive,
visual history of the game

all because Bob Costas is
the world's smallest asshole.

You... no, you want me to eat
a cold plate of shit

and call him up,
all to get your new boyfriend,

my best friend, a job?

Never mind.

I don't know why I even thought...

All right, you know what?
I'm gonna do it.

- Really?
- Mm-hmm.

- Why?
- Because the old Jim

would have used this as an excuse

to go on a bender and try to catch

that super gonorrhea with both hands.

But I'm new Jim.

Thank you for supporting
Tampa baseball.

During the game...

You know, the only things
I know about George Brett

are he is a hall-of-famer,
and, more impressively,

Lorde wrote her song "Royals"
about him.

Thank you for that fun fact, Gabby.

You know what really
chaps my ass though?

She had the balls, she had the cajones

to ask me to do her a favor

by calling up Bob Costas on the phone.

So what's the big deal?

The year's 1993, okay?

I'm walking into an interview
as Costas is walking out.

I say, "Hey, Bob",

what kind of stuff does
Ken Burns want to know?"

He says, "Oh, he's looking
for all the X-rated details"

that nobody ever shares on camera."

So I sit down in front of Ken Burns

and I launch myself into this graphic

and detailed history
of beaver shooting.

- I don't know what that is.
- Most of baseball history,

the players like
to sneak underneath the stands

and try to find the women who
weren't wearing any underwear.

It's kind of like bird watching,

except, you know, for labias.

So that's what you thought
Ken Burns wanted to hear?

Just a tradition of low-grade
sexual assault?

The point of that story was not really

how Ken Burns' funereal tone

sands over the profane aspects
of American history.

The point is Bob Costas fucked me

and didn't even have the
decency to finger my ass first.

Wait, don't you always brag

that you gave Bob Costas
pink eye in Sochi?

Yeah, I definitely did that.

So then you're even. Feud over.

Now you can go help
the woman's who's heart

I assume you broke over and over.

It was just twice.

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

Welcome, everybody,
to Port Charlotte, Florida,

home today not only
of spring training baseball

but to the 2019 South Eastern
Rodeo semifinals.

And although it's only 10:00 a.m.,

the broiling sun is reminding
us all that livestock

are in fact defecating in very
large numbers out there.

Smells so bad it
actually hurts my feelings.

How about you, Gabby?

Yeah, I don't know what's worse, Jim.

That I can taste it or that
I've gotten used to the taste.

Oh, definitely the latter,
but what's remarkable

is that this stadium slash
animal toilet

is somehow packed full of fans.

Oh!

Wow.

We haven't had a sellout here
in, uh... ever.

Never had a doubt.

What's with all the phones?

Augmented reality.
Future of live entertainment.

A composite between the real world

and the digital world.

Right now they're all playing a game

called "Beasts of Bedlam."

They're using their phones
to battle and capture monsters.

So I partnered with the creators

and made the stadium
a realm of rare creatures.

Video games on your phone.

My fat grandson plays those
all the time,

but what's that have
to do with baseball?

You promised me fans for life.

This...

this is a gimmick.

Top of the seventh, Ramirez
on to pitch now for Tampa Bay

in what has been
a very strange ball game.

Most of the crowd has been playing

some weird game on their phone.

Holy shit!

A new character was just released.

It's the baseball throwing guy.

On the field. On the hill.

Ramirez!

If he strikes out the next batter,

his character will buff 20%

and become the most powerful monster

in the M-O-B-A.

- Is that the MOBA?
- Yep.

The MOBA. My goodness,

this is making me long for the days

when I did commercial reads

for the smooth taste
of extra tar cigarettes.

Gabby, can you please tell me

what the heck it is that I just read.

If Ramirez strikes out Copeland,

basically I'll never lose a game

to my nieces and nephews again.

That didn't clear anything up.

Well, there's strike two.

Why are they all going crazy?

'Cause we just made the game
real to them.

This'll be their favorite
memory of favorite their thing,

and they'll be forever drawn to Tampa

to see if we're as fun
as they remember.

Nostalgia. Swing, and strike three!

It's the most powerful drug there is.

Come by tomorrow.

I'll give you all the regular
season dates I can.

Tomorrow doesn't work for me.

- Really?
- I'm kidding.

- I was just...
- Ah. Ah...

I like money. I'll be there.

Well, you did it, Jules.

- I did.
- You did.

Have you called George yet?
Tell him the good news?

Yup.

He doesn't really get the whole
video game thing.

- I mean, he's from a different era.
- Yeah.

I had to explain to him who Lorde is.

You know that he inspired her
to write the song "Royals"?

I heard that. That's very cool.

You know, Jules,
what you did here today,

that's one of the most amazing
things I've ever seen,

and I once saw a triple play
end a ball game. Ha.

Thank you.

Hope you and George go out

and just get drunk
as two skunks tonight.

Nuh-uh.

No, no.

George is sober.

Sober as in serious,

like in how you would describe
a hardened pilgrim woman

named Goodie who watched
all of her children die?

No, I mean, he...

stopped drinking around
the same time you did.

Will you excuse me for just a minute?

Yeah.

Everything okay?

Hooooow dare you!

How dare you date someone sober
who isn't me!

All this time I thought
you were just too damaged

to handle my sobriety,

but now I see I was just
too young for you.

Turns out you wanted to fuck your dad.

- Okay, we're done.
- Sorry, Jules, well...

I'm sorry. Jules.

Sorry. Sorry. Sorry.
Sorry. Sorry. Sorry.

Look, I said some
unforgivable things to you.

Now you say some unforgivable
things to me... we'll be fine.

I don't want to say horrible
things to you.

I don't want to say anything to you.

Great, just keep talking about how

you don't want to talk to me anymore.

Holy shit.

Look, can we at least talk...

Oh, my God. Can we talk about

what's going on with this loose pig?

I mean, the rodeo left hours ago.

Did it escape? Was it abandoned?

Why is it wearing a pirate hat?

No, seriously, I really feel
like if ever there were

a worthy topic of conversation...

If I broke up with George right now,

would you even be capable of
having a relationship?

Not at this point in my sobriety, no,

but I did just get
a turtle though, so...

So you want me to just

keep putting my life on hold
in perpetuity

while you get your shit together?

I mean, how would that even work?

Well, now, one scenario
that could play out

is we start with one to two
phone calls a week.

One to two phone calls a week?

Are you insane? We didn't work out!

You needed to get out
and pursue your dreams,

and I had to stay
and try to salvage mine.

I'm glad you're trying to get healthy,

but let me be clear.

We're never getting back together.

Ever!

Move the pig.

Well...

Holy shit, Jules, the pig's
wearing a different hat.

Seriously, that's either
a different pig

or he made a wardrobe change
all on his own.

I mean, Jesus Christ. I really feel

that we should put
our differences aside

and focus on this pig situation.

Move the pig, or I'm gonna run it over.

Understood. All right.

All right, Mr. Pig. Soo-ee.

Move along.

Hoo-ahh!

Jules, please don't leave.

I was ready to kill the magical pig.

What do you think I'll do to you?

I need you in my life, okay?
I need to at least know

that if I called you someday
you'd answer the phone.

What do I have to do to make
this up to you?

George Brett is great,
but so are a lot of people.

This is a big ask.

Yeah, but don't you think
you kind of owe me

after the whole Ken Burns thing, Bob?

You know I only did that

because you and Joe Buck
planted all that Swedish porn

and a dueling pistol in my suitcase

at the '93 All Star Game.

Yeah, but that was really funny, Bob.

The Baltimore airport police
didn't think so.

Oh, yeah, that's why we
planted the gun.

In all seriousness though,
done a lot of work on myself.

I'm finally in a place where
I can admit to you

that that was 100% Joe Buck.

Joe Buck. I warned you about him.

No, you were right. Not all
sociopaths are serial killers.

- Punk.
- Punk ass bitch.

Oh, God.

You know, I forgot how delightful it is

to share a meal with
a fellow raconteur.

You know, one time I had dinner
with Dick Cavett.

It turned into a two-week
river cruise of the Danube.

We were on Peter Bogdanovich's
houseboat.

Well, we should do this again
sometime soon.

Aw.

You know, I feel like I should
get something off my chest.

Part of the program is we, uh,

we make amends to people
we feel we have wronged.

- Yeah.
- And uh...

Bob, I was the one
who gave you pink eye

at the Sochi Olympics.

- What?
- Yeah.

Now, you ever been to Ojai?

They got a delightful bistro there...

I don't understand.

All the doctors told me it was viral.

Oh, it was. Oh, it took some doing.

I mean, I have connections
with the Russian Mafia.

And... but the tough part was
getting into the second eye.

You son of a bitch!

I've won 28 Emmys, a Peabody,

hosted who knows how many Olympics,

World Series, Super Bowls, NBA Finals,

and nobody gives a shit about
any of that anymore.

But that's why I want to
make it up to you.

After all I've done,
if you Google my name,

the first thing that comes up
is pink eye.

Before all the honors,
even before Bob Costas' feet.

And as it happens, my feet
are goddamn delightful.

Well, now, Bob, does this mean you,

you're not gonna help out George Brett?

Oh, no, I'm gonna help him,
and you know why?

Just so that every day I can
think about how George Brett

is satisfying your ex-girlfriend

in ways you never dreamed of.

So long, douche bag.

Okay. Ow.

Just because you put
hollandaise on a hot dog,

it doesn't make it a Benedict, Steve.

Good God.

Oh, boy, George Brett.

- How you doing, Jim?
- Oh, I'm good.

Hey, I can't thank you enough

for putting in a good word for me.

- It means the world to me.
- Sure, George. Sure.

We cool?

Oh, yeah, we're cool, George.

Did you really move to Morristown?

Butler Heights.

Ten miles out of town,
that way you're up on a hill

and above that smell. That's smart.

You always were the smart one, George.

- You know how great she is.
- I do.

That's why I want you to give her

all the love that she deserves.

- So we're cool?
- George, we're cool.

Okay, buddy. Good to see you.

Okay, you too.

Hey, hey, you know who I just saw?

Crocodile Dundee.

It was George Brett, Gus.
Are you kidding?

Oh. Hey, you know that singer Lorde?

She wrote a song called "Royals"...

I know. Lorde wrote the song
"Royals" about George Brett.

I'm aware that the man's
magnetism was so intense

that a single image of him
autographing baseballs

was enough to inspire
a 17-year-old Kiwi goth teen

to write the biggest single
of the 21st century.

So glad I know it too, Gus.
You know why?

'Cause every time I hear that song,

which because it's a modern classic

should be pretty much all the time,

I get to be reminded about
how the love of my life

traded up and is never ever
coming back to me again.

Great talking to you as always, dummy.

Hey, I just saw a guy who
looked like Crocodile Dundee!

Open with runners in scoring position

for the first time here this afternoon

as Stubblefield looks at a fastball

on the outside corner for a strike.

2-0. Check it, 1-1.

Sorry about that, folks.

Breaking ball, missed outside
this time, 1-2.

Just did it again.

- Count's 2-2.
- 2-1.

My goodness, three decades
of broadcasting,

I don't think I've ever
butchered the count.

At least not quite that badly.

Well, it's spring training
for broadcasters too, Jim.

So it is. Thank you, Gabby.

Stubblefield fouls that one
down the right side,

2-1... no, 2-3.

2-3? Doesn't even make any sense.

Sorry, folks, check it. 2 balling...

2 balls... and tiny...

Jim, are you having a stroke?

I wish. I think I have the yips.

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