THE FLUKE
Fade in on:
EXT. WRIGLEY FIELD - DAY
It's the seventh game of the
World Series, the Chicago Cubs against the Detroit Tigers. The stadium is
rocking in anticipation, HARRY CARAY calling the game from the broadcast booth.
HARRY CARAY
... Here we are - top of
the ninth, two out, Tigers on second and third. The Cubs lead has been cut to
one, and they've called in their ace reliever, Wallace Marsh, to shut the door
and nail down the world championship.
On the mound we see WALLACE
MARSH. In his mid-thirties, he stares in at the catcher, a look of
determination on his face. He doesn't flinch as the fans begin to chant his name.
FANS
Wallace! Wallace!
Wallace!
Getting the sign, Wallace
straightens up. He glances at the runners before turning his concentration back
to the batter.
HARRY CARAY (o.s.)
This is it, seventh game
of the World Series on the line - what every boy dreams about. And here's the
pitch...
Wallace winds up and
delivers...
CUT TO:
EXT. LITTLE LEAGUE FIELD -
DAY
... the ball landing halfway
to the plate and rolling to a halt at the batter's feet. The batter is ten-year
old KEVIN NORMAN, the star pitcher for the Little League team Wallace manages,
who are gathered here to practice. Kevin picks up the ball, firing back to
Wallace, who flinches as the ball smacks into his glove. Awakened from his
daydream, he shrugs and laughs.
WALLACE
Haven't quite figured
out the grip yet...
Kevin rolls his eyes as
Wallace delivers another pitch. This one floats in over the plate - Kevin
swinging and knocking a long fly off the left field fence, a few feet foul. The
LEFT FIELDER is too busy playing airplane (arms outstretched, making motor
noises with his mouth) to shag it down.
WALLACE
You're swinging too
soon. You're too far out in front.
KEVIN
Throw it faster. You
throw like a girl.
WALLACE
(calls to the dugout)
Okay, next up! And let's
hear a little chatter out there!
Kevin frowns, tossing aside
his bat in disgust as another kid (SECOND BASEMAN) steps into the batters box.
Wallace winds up and delivers... the kid driving the ball over the center field
fence. Wallace watches it go, amazed.
WALLACE
How come you guys don't
hit like this during the games?
SECOND BASEMAN
Are you kidding? Those
kids throw hard.
WALLACE
(sighs)
Next...
BILLY AARON steps into the
box. A small, frail looking boy with an uncertain frown on his face, all the
other kids immediately begin to razz him.
KEVIN
Everybody scoot in -
Billy's up!
SECOND BASEMAN
We should go sit in the
dugout, he's not going to hit anything.
WALLACE
All right, cut the
chatter. Are you ready, Billy?
Billy nods tentatively,
Wallace floating a ball over the plate. Billy closes his eyes and swings -
missing the ball by a mile, his batting helmet slipping down over his eyes. The
other kids all laugh. Wallace calls to Billy patiently.
WALLACE
Relax, Billy. You're too
tense. Loosen your grip a little, and just watch the bat meet the ball.
Wallace pitches, Billy
swings - the bat flying out of his hands, Wallace ducking as it narrowly misses
his head. The kids laugh even harder.
KEVIN
Relax, coach - watch the
bat meet your head.
This really cracks
the kids up, Wallace and Billy exchanging depressed frowns.
CUT TO:
EXT. LITTLE LEAGUE PARKING
LOT - DAY
After practice, Billy walks
with Wallace to his car.
WALLACE
Your swing looked a lot
better today. At least the times you held onto the bat.
BILLY
Sorry about almost
killing you. I was wondering if I could get a ride home? My mom has to work
late again.
WALLACE
Sure. I have to stop by
the card shop first. Do you mind?
Wallace loads the baseball
equipment into the trunk of his car, shuffling a couple dozen unopened boxes of
candy bars to fit it in.
BILLY
I guess not. But I think
I've had enough baseball for one day.
Wallace looks to another
field, where there's a game in progress.
WALLACE
You can never get too
much baseball, Billy. The sting of the ball in your glove... the taste of fresh
hot dogs... the smell of freshly mown grass...
BILLY
... The stink of an
overflowing outhouse.
WALLACE
(frowns)
Yeah, well they're supposed
to pump those out next week. One day you'll learn to love the game as much as I
do.
(grins)
In fact, you even remind
me of myself when I was your age.
Wallace drops the bat bag,
which spills open, bats clattering and rolling everywhere. Billy watches,
nodding.
BILLY
That's encouraging.
CUT TO:
INT. WALLACE'S CAR - DAY
Wallace and Billy sit in the
front seat, chatting as they head downtown. The back seat is stacked with more
unopened boxes of candy bars.
WALLACE
So if you hate baseball
so much why did you join Little League?
BILLY
My dad visited for
Christmas and he gave me a bat.
WALLACE
And you feel obligated
to use it?
Billy grins, giving Wallace
a sidelong glance.
BILLY
Not as much as my mom.
She felt obligated to use it on my dad when he snuck into her room Christmas
Eve.
WALLACE
(laughs)
So what would you rather
be doing than whizzing bats past my head?
BILLY
I like to draw.
WALLACE
Why won't your mom let
you draw, then?
BILLY
She did. Until she saw
the drawing I did of her and dad Christmas Eve.
Wallace laughs again. They
stop at a light next to a large diesel truck. Billy looks to Wallace pointedly.
BILLY (cont.)
Why aren't you married,
Wallace?
Wallace leans back, giving a
world-weary sigh.
WALLACE
I'm a lone wolf, Billy.
I have dreams and ambitions. I can't be tied down to a wife and kids. I'm a man
on the move, I can't have anything cloud my vision.
The light changes to green,
the diesel truck shifting gears. The exhaust pipe, angled directly into
Wallace's open window, sprays the inside of the car with thick black smoke.
CUT TO:
EXT. BASEBALL CARD SHOP -
DAY
Wallace's car pulls up,
smoke still wafting out the windows. It parks in front of a small shop, a sign
identifying it as 'BASEBALL CARDS AND STUFF'. Wallace and Billy climb out of
the car, coughing.
INT. BASEBALL CARD SHOP
Wallace and Billy enter the
shop, which is decorated like a shrine to the Chicago Cubs. Sitting quietly
behind the counter is CLINTON RUSSELL, Wallace's lazy employee, reading a copy
of 'Penthouse'. Wallace looks around the vacant store, frustrated.
WALLACE
How much did we make
today, Clinton?
CLINTON
I made minimum
wage - you made considerably less.
WALLACE
Did the shipment come
in?
Clinton nods distractedly.
CLINTON
Yeah. I didn't get around to
unpacking it...
(studies magazine at odd
angle)
... I've been too busy.
Shaking his head, Wallace
steps to a pile of boxes, cracking one open. He pulls out a poster, unrolling
it to reveal an action photo of Ken Davis, the Cubs' slugging outfielder,
taking a mighty cut. Wallace grins, admiring the photo.
WALLACE
Ken Davis. This guy is
what baseball's all about, Billy. He's decent, hardworking, self-sacrificing...
CLINTON
... Overpaid, overrated,
overweight and over-the-hill.
Wallace ignores Clinton,
hanging the poster on the wall.
WALLACE
I always wanted to be a
pro ballplayer, but this is the closest I could get. You know, sometimes late
at night I still dream I could pitch for the Cubs. I think if I could do that I
might give anything...
He turns wistfully - only to
find Billy and Clinton not listening, absorbed in the copy of 'Penthouse'.
Wallace gently steers Billy away.
BILLY
I only read it for the
cartoons!
WALLACE
Do you have to read that
stuff in here?
CLINTON
It's informative. You
learn how to treat women, what they like, certain personality disorders...
BILLY
Wallace doesn't like
women. They cloud his vision.
CLINTON
More like they fog up
his glasses.
Billy turns to Wallace
eagerly.
BILLY
Maybe you should go out
with my mom, Wallace. She likes baseball, too. She's five-eight, 125 pounds,
bats right, throws right...
CLINTON
(leering)
Is she a switch-hitter?
Wallace and Billy turn,
giving Clinton a scornful look.
WALLACE
All you ever think about is
one thing.
(to Billy)
So - does your mom like
the Cubs?
DISSOLVE TO:
INT. WALLACE'S APARTMENT -
NIGHT
Wallace steps into his
apartment and turns on the light. It doesn't look much different than the store
- interior decoration by Major League Baseball. He carries several newspapers,
turning on the TV to ESPN SportsCenter and pressing the button on his answering
machine. He takes a seat as the machine plays his messages.
WALLACE'S MOM (on machine)
Wallace, this is your
mother. Just calling to let you know I'm still alive.
Wallace pulls the sports
section out of each newspaper, throwing the rest in the trash. He grimaces at
the headline 'CUBS' SLUMP CONTINUES', tossing the paper aside in disgust. The
machine beeps, another message playing.
WALLACE'S MOM (on machine)
It's your mother again.
Don't bother to call back. I'm sure you're busy.
The machine beeps and
continues as Wallace steps into the kitchen, taking a kiddie frozen dinner from
the freezer and popping it into the microwave.
WALLACE'S DAD (on machine)
Wallace - this is your
father. What did you say to your mother? She's awfully upset... call me at work
tomorrow.
Wallace sighs, giving the
machine a tired look. It beeps and continues as he begins to cut a couple of
baseball cards off the back of the frozen dinner box.
SECRETARY (on machine)
Mr. Marsh? This is Mrs.
Carlson from Little League. I'm pleased to inform you that your team has sold
more candy than any other in our candy drive, and has won the opportunity to
run fielding drills at Wrigley Field before the Cubs game this Friday night.
Call me for the details. And congratulations.
Wallace jumps up excitedly,
pumping his fist like Kirk Gibson after a home run.
WALLACE
Yes! I knew we could do
it! 750 boxes of candy! This'll be such a treat for the kids.
Wallace steps to the hall
closet, opening the door to reveal it stocked to the ceiling with unopened
boxes of candy. Wallace breaks one open, treating himself to a victory candy
bar.
WALLACE
My Little League team
taking infield practice at Wrigley Field! Everyone's going to be so
impressed...
CUT TO:
EXT. LITTLE LEAGUE FIELD -
DAY
Wallace's team in action: A
ball rolls through the shortstop's legs... confused outfielders let balls drop
between them... the dazed Second Baseman is attended to in the infield by a
DOCTOR. Wallace stands in the dugout, arms crossed, as a couple of fathers
stand behind him. They are led by ED NORMAN, Kevin's large, intense father, who
speaks through the chain-link fence.
ED
(sincerely)
The team's playing a lot
better this week, Wallace.
WALLACE
Kevin's pitching a great
game.
FATHER #1
19 - 19. We might actually
win one. And against the defending champs!
(giggles)
That'll really piss off
their parents!
The fathers perk up at the
crack of the bat, watching the arc of the ball. As it comes down they grimace
and groan, the Doctor running past them onto the field.
FATHER #2
Serves you right, Sammy
- get your finger out of your nose and use two hands!
Wallace turns to the
fathers, irritated.
WALLACE
No offense, guys, but
what are you doing down here? Shouldn't you be in the stands with the other
parents?
ED
We like to be close to
the kids. We like to give them our support. And we like to look up the womens'
dresses from this angle.
Wallace turns, looking into
the stands and shaking his head.
WALLACE
You guys are worse than
the kids.
FATHER #2
Where do you think they
learned it from? Incoming - three o'clock.
The men turn to see KATHY
AARON approaching. Billy's mother, Kathy is in her early thirties, and very
attractive. The fathers all smile, sucking in their guts as she walks by. Even
Wallace perks up, interested. She smiles as she passes.
KATHY
Sorry, guys - I wore
pants today.
Kathy takes a seat in the
stands, the fathers all exhaling as they let their stomachs out again.
WALLACE
Who is that?
ED
Kathy Aaron, Billy's
mom. I saw her at tryouts last spring. Lace panties.
The other fathers groan
appreciatively.
WALLACE
Divorce has turned
Little League games into the singles bars of the 90's.
The UMPIRE's voice booms
out.
UMPIRE (o.s.)
Stee-rike three!
The fans applaud as the kids
come off the field, gathering in the dugout. Wallace claps his hands, speaking
enthusiastically.
WALLACE
Okay - last ups, tie
game. Let's bear down and score a run, guys.
EXT. HOME PLATE
The Second Baseman stands in
the batters box, swinging and missing the ball by a mile - as does the catcher,
the ball smacking the Umpire in the face mask.
UMPIRE
Ow! Strike three!
EXT. HOME PLATE - A MINUTE
LATER
Another kid swings wildly,
losing his balance and spinning around - whacking the Umpire in the back with
the bat.
UMPIRE
Ow! Strike three!
Goddammit...
EXT. HOME PLATE - A MINUTE
LATER
Kevin Norman steps to the
plate, taking his place in the box confidently. The fathers call out from
behind the fence.
ED
Hit it out, son - pull
it down the line. If we win, that new stereo is yours!
Kevin swings at the first
pitch, missing badly - trying too hard. The Umpire, now standing behind the
backstop while the Doctor tends to him, calls out.
UMPIRE
Stee-rike one!
The fathers go crazy,
Wallace frowning.
ED
Come on, Kevin. Pull it
outta here and I'll buy you a mini-bike. You can use your college savings for
anything you want.
FATHER #3
You can spend Sammy's
college money, too!
Kevin connects with the next
pitch, driving a long fly to center. The fans rise hopefully, watching with
disappointment as the center fielder camps under the ball, catching it for the
third out. The opposing fans go wild, Kevin throwing his helmet as he comes
back into the dugout. Ed looks to him scornfully.
ED
I said to pull it.
You're grounded, pal.
Able to take no more,
Wallace shoos the fathers away.
WALLACE
Okay, that's it. Back in
the stands, let's go. These kids are wound up enough without your support and
understanding.
The fathers retreat to the
stands, grumbling. Wallace notices Kathy Aaron sitting in the bleachers.
Getting an idea, he steps into the dugout.
INT. LITTLE LEAGUE DUGOUT
Wallace moves to the far end
of the dugout, where Billy sits, drawing on the wall with a pencil stub.
WALLACE
Billy, right field.
BILLY
No thanks. I don't want
to play.
WALLACE
(sitting)
Come on - we need you.
Your mom's even here to see you play.
Scared, Billy looks up at
Wallace, speaking discreetly.
BILLY
Wallace... I stink. What
if someone hits it to me?
WALLACE
Try to catch it. Don't
worry so much.
Scowling, Billy grabs his
mitt and trudges out of the dugout, Wallace grinning and slapping him on the
back.
EXT. LITTLE LEAGUE
BLEACHERS
Billy steps out of the
dugout, glancing up at his mother in the stands. She waves, smiling proudly as
he trots to his position in right field. The fathers see Billy heading onto the
field, gasping in disbelief.
ED
Billy Aaron? What's
Wallace trying to do, throw the game? He can't put that little dork on the field!
FATHER #2
You're kidding! It's a
tie game and he inserts the biggest spaz on the team!
They turn to see Kathy
glaring at them. Smiling sweetly, they call out enthusiastically.
ED
Go, Billy!
FATHER #2
Make us proud!
EXT. DUGOUT
Wallace paces in front of
the dugout, cheering on his team.
WALLACE
Okay, let's hold them! Keep
your heads in the game!
(under his breath)
Pretend your fathers are
dead...
EXT. LITTLE LEAGUE FIELD
Kevin Norman stares in from
the mound, delivering his first pitch - the batter hitting a long fly ball to
right field. Moaning miserably, Billy backs up... the ball carries... Billy
continues back... the ball reaches the top of its arc... Billy reaches the
warning track, blindly sticking up his mitt... the ball klonking off Billy's
head, flying up into the air - and over the fence for a game winning homer.
EXT. BLEACHERS
The parents sit, stunned, as
the opposing team's fans go wild. Ed and the fathers look to one another
grimly. Concerned, Kathy stands, looking to where Billy lies in right field.
EXT. LITTLE LEAGUE FIELD
Wallace hurries to Billy's
side, helping him to his feet. The rest of the team gather around.
WALLACE
Billy! Are you okay? Is
your head all right? Do you know where you are?
Billy looks at the hostile
expressions of his teammates.
BILLY
Hell?
Wallace gives Billy a sad
smile as we...
CUT TO:
INT. PIZZA RESTAURANT - DAY
The restaurant is filled
with rowdy, unhappy Little Leaguers and their parents, gathered here after the
tough loss. Wallace wades through the crowd, holding two pizzas over his head
as the kids rush him.
WALLACE
Okay, okay - take it
easy. There's enough for everyone. Hey, you - you're not on our team! Back away
quickly and you won't get hurt.
Setting the pizzas on a
table, Wallace looks across the room to where Billy sits alone, holding a
baggie of ice against his head. Wrestling a piece of pizza away from a ravenous
kid, Wallace heads over to Billy.
WALLACE
Here ya go - pepperoni
and mushroom. They don't have aspirin as a topping. How's your head?
BILLY
Fine. I wish the ball
had hit me harder, then maybe I wouldn't be able to remember what happened.
WALLACE
Don't worry. Everyone
else has already forgotten it.
Kevin Norman walks past,
calling to Billy.
KEVIN
Hey - way to blow the
game, bonehead!
WALLACE
Almost everyone.
They both brighten as Kathy
steps up, setting a pitcher of soda on the table.
KATHY
It's like trying to
cross a river full of piranhas out there. Hi, I'm Kathy - Billy's mom.
WALLACE
Hi, I'm Wallace. I know
it looked bad out there, but Billy's made a lot of progress. A month ago he
would've run away from that ball instead of getting underneath it.
BILLY
That's progress?
Wallace and Kathy laugh,
even Billy cracking a smile.
WALLACE
It's progress because you
made the effort, Billy. That's all you can ever do. We never know what the
results are gonna be with anything. All you can ever do is try your best.
(stops, grinning)
Man, I'm starting to
sound like my Little League coach.
BILLY
You played Little
League?
WALLACE
Oh yeah. I was the
worst. When they gave us our first jock straps, I thought you were supposed to
wear it on your face to keep dirt out of your mouth while sliding.
Billy and Kathy laugh, Kathy
impressed by Wallace's ability to make her son forget his troubles.
KATHY
That's a pretty sad
story.
WALLACE
Stick around, I've got a
million of 'em.
They exchange smiles, a
spark passing between them. A spark that is not lost on Billy. They turn as
across the restaurant chairs crash and glass breaks, kids chanting 'Fight!
Fight!'.
WALLACE
Great...
KATHY
How can you handle these
children all day?
WALLACE
Just part of being a
coach.
Wallace hurries to break up
the fight - separating Fathers #1 and #2, who push and wrestle as the kids
cheer them on.
FATHER #1
My kid can too hit a
curve ball!
FATHER #2
Yeah? Watch me
hit a screwball!
They lunge at one another,
Wallace keeping them apart.
WALLACE
All right, cut it out,
guys. You're setting a bad example for the boys.
ED
Yeah - you fight like
sissies.
WALLACE
Here...
(pulls candy bars from
pocket)
... have a candy bar.
The fathers calm down, each
taking a candy bar. Ed looks to Wallace seriously.
ED
You know, Wallace, the
other parents and I are concerned that you might be in over your head. We
thought you might need some help coaching.
WALLACE
Gosh, Ed - who do you
think I could get to do that?
ED
We're 0 and 3 already.
What we need is a little discipline to turn this team around. It's been my
experience that kids respond better when you crack the whip. That's where I can
help.
WALLACE
Look, I appreciate the
offer, but...
Ed slings a beefy arm around
Wallace's shoulders.
ED
Think about it, Wallace. We
came this close to beating the defending champions today. Kevin threw a
26-hitter - you can't waste pitching like that.
(pointedly)
And I'm sure the team
sponsor feels the same as I do...
Getting the message, Wallace
nods, giving in.
WALLACE
Okay, fine. If you'd
like to help out, Ed, I could use an assistant.
ED
Great.
(turns to others)
Practice tomorrow at
3:00.
WALLACE
Wait a minute.
Tomorrow's bad for me.
ED
Oh, I'm sorry, Wallace...
(turns)
... See you all tomorrow
at 3:00.
WALLACE
Wait a second - tomorrow at
3:00 is no good for anybody...
(speaks up)
... I was hoping to make
this announcement under saner circumstances, but... we won the candy drive. We
get to go to Wrigley Field to meet the Cubs.
The kids and parents cheer -
hats, mitts, beer, soda and pizza flying everywhere. Even Ed slaps Wallace
good-naturedly on the back, nearly sending him sprawling.
ED
Nice job, buddy. What
all do the kids get to do at Wrigley?
WALLACE
They get to meet the
Cubs, tour the locker room, and best of all - they get to run fielding drills
before the game!
There is a collective gasp
as the restaurant goes silent.
FATHER #2
They can't run fielding
drills - they're even worse than the Cubs.
FATHER #1
What if people I know
are there? I'll be a laughing stock.
Wallace shakes his head,
amazed.
WALLACE
How about if they all
wear fake noses and glasses? We're not doing this to impress anyone. It's for
fun.
ED
Fun? Now instead of
being laughed at by forty parents at Little League it'll be 40,000 at Wrigley
Field.
WALLACE
What do you guys want me to
do, cancel so none of you have to go through the trauma?
(to kids)
What do you think, guys?
There is a moment of
silence. Then:
KEVIN
Well... if Sammy would
keep his fingers out of his nose...
SAMMY
Oh yeah? Well I didn't
miss two easy pop-ups to the mound today, Ke-vin.
SECOND BASEMAN
Just don't hit anything
to Billy. If he fields any more balls with his head we should trade him to a
soccer team.
The kids all start fighting
and yelling, Wallace once again jumping in the middle of it.
WALLACE
Stop it! You're acting
like parents!
The kids stop quarrelling,
quieting down as Wallace speaks.
WALLACE (cont.)
That's better. I think
it's time we started acting more like a team, here. You don't see the pros
acting like this - complaining, moping around. If we're going to meet them, I
think we should try to be more like them...
CUT TO:
INT. CUBS' LOCKER ROOM -
NIGHT
Two Chicago Cubs players
grapple with one another, the other players gathered around chanting 'Fight!
Fight!'. The MANAGER steps between them, trying to calm everyone down.
MANAGER
All right - break it up!
FIGHTING PLAYER
I can too hit a
curve ball!
MANAGER
Save it for the other
team, you idiots! Listen up - everybody sit down, we've got to talk.
The players all sit,
grumbling as the Manager continues.
MANAGER
I think it's time we
started acting more like a team, here. We've got a bunch of Little Leaguers
visiting today...
The players all groan, but
the Manager persists, louder.
MANAGER (cont.)
... so I don't want any
fighting or bitching. It's bad for our image. And besides, you guys fight like
sissies.
The players gripe some more
as KEN DAVIS stands. Wallace's idol, Ken is the team's star player and
clubhouse leader. He addresses them with an air of authority.
KEN
I have a few other things to
keep in mind before the kids get here. Some of you guys haven't been around
children much, so you don't know how to act.
(counts off on fingers)
First - make sure your
valuables are locked away, preferably someplace high. Second - no free
autographs! It might set a precedent that could damage the earning power of
every player here. And third - never underestimate them. Kids can be sneaky
when they want to be.
Ken steps down as the
Manager stands again.
MANAGER
I'd just like to say one
more thing. Last place. It's the middle of May and we're seven-and-a-half games
out. I'm already getting letters calling me a fat tub of crap - those don't
usually start until the All-Star break! We need to take our destiny into our
own hands. To concentrate...
Standing next to a large,
Nautilus-like arm massager, the Manager pounds on it for emphasis.
MANAGER (cont.)
... to be aggressive...
to compete... to focus ourselves...
The players begin to file
out. They've heard this before, chanting along with the Manager as he recites
his speech.
MANAGER (cont.)
... to accept the
challenge... to show pride and dignity...
The players are gone, the
Manager continuing to pound the arm massager, which buzzes and moans as he hits
it harder.
MANAGER
We need a miracle!
Baseball history is full of miracles. They happen on the field every
day. But my team hasn't had one
stinking miracle in years!
He hits the arm massager
with all his might as he leaves. Behind him the arm massager clicks and buzzes,
sounding seriously defective.
EXT. WRIGLEY FIELD - FOUL
AREA - NIGHT
Wallace, Ed Norman and the
Little Leaguers step onto the field, looking around in amazement as the
ANNOUNCER speaks over the p.a. system.
ANNOUNCER
... And now, as a
special treat, the Screaming Weasels of the Chicago-American Little League will
run a series of fielding drills for your entertainment.
There is a smattering of
applause as the kids run onto the field. Wallace grabs a bat, calling out
encouragingly.
WALLACE
Okay, everybody - just
like in practice, except don't get hurt.
Ed stops Wallace, taking the
bat from his hand.
ED
Why don't you let me
handle this, Wallace? You can't even hit the ball to the outfield.
WALLACE
But I'm the manager...
ED
So manage. I'll hit.
Ed steps to home plate.
Humiliated, Wallace looks into the stands, where Kathy and the other parents
sit nervously in anticipation of the carnage to follow. Kathy waves cheerfully,
Wallace returning it half-heartedly. Feeling out of place, he moves off the
field.
Ed tosses a ball into the
air, lining a hard shot down the third base line. Terrified, the THIRD BASEMAN
dives out of the way. There is some laughter from the fans, the Little League
parents shifting uneasily in their seats.
INT. CUBS' LOCKER ROOM -
NIGHT
Bored, Wallace strolls into
the Cubs' darkened locker room. Realizing where he is, he wanders around,
dazed.
WALLACE
Wow! The Cubs' actual
locker room...
He looks through lockers,
running his fingers over uniforms, inspecting things - living a dream.
WALLACE
Wow. An actual cap.
He tries it on.
WALLACE (cont.)
I'm wearing an actual cap.
(picks up a bat)
An actual bat...
He swings it.
WALLACE (cont.)
I'm swinging an actual bat...
(steps in a jockstrap)
An actual jockstrap...
He tries to kick it away.
WALLACE (cont.)
My foot is caught in an
actual jockstrap...
He pries it off his foot
with the bat, walking away gingerly.
EXT. WRIGLEY FIELD -
BLEACHERS
The fans are now lazily
booing the Little Leaguers. Kathy winces as the other parents hide their faces
in shame.
EXT. WRIGLEY FIELD
On the field, Ed hits a
high, terrifying pop-up. The infielders gather underneath it. Then, as it
begins its descent, they bolt out of the way, the ball landing untouched on the
grass.
ED
Come on, catch the
goddamn ball!
Kevin Norman picks up the
ball, turning to his father, who chides him.
ED
Well, Kevin, since you
can't catch the ball, why don't you try pitching it?
Kevin turns to the Third
Baseman, who shields his face from Ed with his mitt.
THIRD BASEMAN
I'll give you five bucks
if you bean him.
INT. CUBS' LOCKER ROOM
Still roaming around the
room, Wallace steps to the arm massager. It buzzes and hisses faintly.
WALLACE
Cool. An...
(reads label)
... arm massager.
Climbing onto the machine,
he sticks his arm inside, hitting the power switch with his free hand. The
machine seems to short out, sparks flying as the massager goes haywire. It
twists his arm at ultra-high speed, Wallace screaming in pain and fear.
WALLACE
Ow! Somebody help me! Help!
Hooking the electrical cord
with his toe, Wallace manages to yank out the plug, the machine slowing and
finally stopping. Relieved, he pulls his arm out of the machine, rubbing it
gingerly. He looks up as Billy races into the locker room.
BILLY
Wallace? We need you!
INT. DUGOUT
Ed Norman lies on the bench,
surrounded by the Cubs and Little Leaguers as the team TRAINER applies ice to
his forehead. Ed moans in pain as the Third Baseman slips a grinning Kevin five
bucks. Everyone else seems depressed.
LITTLE LEAGUER #1
That was embarrassing...
CUB PLAYER #1
Try going through it
every day.
CUB PLAYER #2
Yeah - they didn't throw
stuff at you...
Wallace and Billy step into
the dugout, the Cubs' MEDIA REPRESENTATIVE hurrying forward.
MEDIA REP
Are you the manager of
this team?
WALLACE
Yes...
MEDIA REP
Good. Since Mr. Norman
is unavailable, we need you to throw out the first pitch. This is our catcher,
Bip Anderson.
BIP ANDERSON, the Cubs'
veteran catcher steps up. He shakes Wallace's hand as they head onto the field.
EXT. WRIGLEY FIELD -
PITCHERS MOUND
Stepping to the mound, Bip
hands Wallace the ball, giving him a reassuring pat on the back. Wallace is
still rubbing his arm.
WALLACE
I don't know how good
this'll be - I think I hurt my arm.
BIP
Just heave it, I'll
catch it.
Bip takes his place behind
home plate as the p.a. Announcer speaks.
ANNOUNCER
... And now, throwing
out the ceremonial first pitch of the night is Screaming Weasels manager
Wallace Marsh.
Wallace shrinks a little at
the heckling from the crowd.
INT. DUGOUT
The Little Leaguers stand on
the dugout steps, cringing in anticipation. Billy crosses his fingers
hopefully.
EXT. BLEACHERS
Kathy and the other parents
can barely bring themselves to watch.
EXT. WRIGLEY FIELD
Shrugging, Wallace begins
his clumsy wind-up. He follows through, firing the ball to the plate, scorching
the air. It rips the catchers mitt off Bip's hand, sending it to the backstop.
Behind the backstop the man testing the radar gun clocks Wallace's pitch at 120
m.p.h.
RADAR MAN
Jesus!
BIP
Jesus!
WALLACE
Jesus!
INT. DUGOUT
The Cubs players gape,
slack-jawed, while the Little Leaguers cheer. The Manager stares, mouth open,
his tobacco chaw dropping into a player's Gatorade cup. Dumbfounded, the player
takes a drink and doesn't notice.
EXT. BLEACHERS
Kathy stands, applauding,
while the parents and other fans around her stare at the field in disbelief.
EXT. WRIGLEY FIELD
The crowd finally begins to
cheer as Wallace steps off the mound, in shock himself. He doesn't know what to
make of what just happened. Bip retrieves his mitt and catches up with Wallace
on his way back to the dugout.
BIP
(excited)
You've really got an arm
there. Have you ever pitched before?
WALLACE
(numbly)
In Little League once. I
threw the ball over the backstop.
Bip laughs, slapping Wallace
hard on the back.
BIP
Good thing you didn't
today - you might've popped the blimp!
Numb, Wallace steps into the
dugout, where he is swarmed by the Little Leaguers, who cheer wildly.
CUT TO:
EXT. WRIGLEY FIELD -
BLEACHERS - NIGHT
Wallace, still surrounded by
the Little Leaguers, makes his way down the aisle to where the parents sit. The
kids are excited, still chattering away as he takes a seat.
SECOND BASEMAN
Hey Wallace, how come
you never threw like that in practice?
KEVIN
We always thought you
threw like a girl.
LEFT FIELDER
Yeah - a weak girl.
Wallace, still stunned
himself, rubs his arm.
WALLACE
Thanks, guys - but
enough hero worship already...
A FAN carrying a tray of
nachos passes by, calling to Wallace.
FAN WITH NACHOS
Nice throw, man. We
could use you on the pitching staff.
Another FAN steps up.
FAN WITH BEERS
Yeah, no doubt. You ever
pitch professionally?
Confused by the sudden
attention, Wallace doesn't know how to respond. A PEANUT VENDOR makes his way
down the aisle.
PEANUT VENDOR
Peanuts! Peanuts here!
WALLACE
(flags him down)
I'll take one.
Another man calls out at the
far end of the aisle.
HUNGRY FAN
Me, too.
The Peanut Vendor hands Wallace
a bag of peanuts, dropping another on the ground. Wallace picks it up.
WALLACE
I've got it.
Wallace lobs the bag of
peanuts to the man at the end of the aisle - the bag zinging through the air,
smacking the startled man in the forehead and exploding, peanuts flying
everywhere. The Little Leaguers cheer happily as the man is knocked back into
his seat, stunned.
BILLY
Cool!
Wallace grimaces, calling to
the man, embarrassed.
WALLACE
Sorry...
Billy watches Wallace
excitedly. Getting an idea, he runs down the steps to where Kathy sits next to
Ed Norman. Bandage on his head, Ed mutters incoherently as he tries to eat a
plate of nachos.
ED
Don't worry about me,
Kathy, I'm perfectly fine. You know me, Mr. Hardhead. Ha ha - have I told you
how attracted you are to me?
Ed winks at Kathy as he
tries to eat a nacho, the chip and cheese sticking to his cheek. Kathy smiles
politely, glancing around for help.
KATHY
I didn't know that. Did
the doctors say you should be up and around?
Billy rushes up.
BILLY
Hey, mom - did you see
Wallace's throw?
KATHY
Yes. How'd they do that,
some special kind of ball or something?
BILLY
No, he really did it. He
wanted me to tell you that he needs to talk to you about me. Something about
Little League.
KATHY
What did you do now?
(sighs worriedly)
Tell him any time is
fine.
Grinning, Billy rushes back
up the steps toward Wallace. Trying to be suave, Ed turns to Kathy, chips,
cheese and jalepenos stuck all over his face.
ED
So, mind if I call me
sometime?
Kathy rolls her eyes.
EXT. WALLACE
sits in his seat, trying to
eat his peanuts. Holding one between the thumb and index finger of his right
hand, he squeezes - POOF! - the shell turning to dust. His face and hair are
covered in a thin layer of peanut dust.
BILLY
Wallace! Hey, Wallace...
Wallace turns to Billy,
distracted.
WALLACE
I think there's
something wrong with these peanuts...
Billy looks at him
seriously.
BILLY
My mom says she wants to
talk to you about me. Something about Little League.
WALLACE
What did you do now?
(sighs)
Tell her any time is
fine.
BILLY
She said tonight.
Wallace thinks a moment.
WALLACE
Sure. If you don't mind
coming with me. There's someplace I have to go...
He pops another peanut to
dust as we...
CUT TO:
EXT. CARNIVAL - NIGHT
Wallace stands in the
pitching booth at a local carnival, where pitches are timed with a radar gun.
Kathy and Billy stand behind him as he winds up and throws, the ball whizzing
through the air, thudding hard against the back wall. They all look up at the
radar gun, which registers 127 m.p.h. The PITCHING BARKER grudgingly hands
Wallace a large teddy bear.
PITCHING BARKER
Something's got
to be wrong with the machine...
Wallace hands the stuffed
bear to Kathy, who places it on a pile of a half-dozen identical bears. The
Pitching Barker tosses a ball to Billy.
PITCHING BARKER
Here, kid - you try it.
Billy winds up and throws -
the ball hitting the ground ten feet shy of the target and rolling to the back
wall. The radar gun reads 3 m.p.h. The barker shrugs.
PITCHING BARKER
Naw, that seems about right.
(to Wallace)
You ever pitch
professionally?
Wallace just shakes his
head, gathering up the stuffed toys as he, Kathy and Billy move off down the
midway. Wallace flexes his arm.
WALLACE
This is so weird. My
arm's never felt this strong before.
KATHY
Good thing - we're gonna
need a strong arm if you win any more animals.
Reaching into his pocket,
Wallace removes a handful of change, giving it to Billy.
WALLACE
Here, Billy. Why don't
you try a few of the games? Just don't touch any of the carneys.
BILLY
Okay. Thanks, Wallace.
Billy runs off to the ring
toss booth as Wallace and Kathy exchange uneasy looks. Each thinking the other
has something important to say.
WALLACE
Uh, I thought it might
be better if we talked without Billy.
KATHY
Yeah, all right.
An uncomfortable pause. Each
waiting for the other to speak.
KATHY
So you wanted to talk to
me about Billy's Little League? You're not going to kick him off the team are you?
I know he's not a very good player...
Wallace frowns, confused.
WALLACE
Wait... what? I'm not
going to kick him off the team. I thought you wanted to talk to me.
Billy said...
Kathy nods, a knowing grin
on her face.
KATHY
Billy said, huh? He said
I wanted to talk to you?
WALLACE
(smiles)
Uh-huh. I think we've
been duped.
They turn to where Billy
stands at the ring toss booth. He aims the wooden ring at the line of soda
bottles... concentrates... and throws - the ring landing around the barker's
neck. Kathy looks back to Wallace, who seems preoccupied with his arm. He
stretches it, bends it, twists it as they speak.
KATHY
You should be flattered.
Ever since his dad and I divorced, Billy's been pretty lonely. Ten year old
boys don't much like hanging out with their mothers.
WALLACE
It's okay, I still
don't. I like Billy, I think he's a great kid. Not such a hot baseball player,
but a good kid.
KATHY
I know he's not very
good at baseball, but I think it's good for him to get out. He's such a loner,
he doesn't make friends very easily.
Billy hurries to the dart
toss booth, where players throw darts at balloon covered targets.
WALLACE
He told me he likes to
draw. I'd like to see his work sometime. Maybe I'll commission a portrait - you
know, me, a crown, a throne. Something modest.
Kathy pauses, looking at
Wallace in amazement. He looks up from his arm, puzzled.
WALLACE
What, is he expensive?
How about me, a bull and black velvet?
KATHY
You're the first guy
I've been around who's even willing to acknowledge Billy's existence. Most guys
I've been out with couldn't care less, or try to pretend like he doesn't exist.
And I'm including my ex-husband in that.
Wallace shrugs, embarrassed.
WALLACE
I don't know... I just
worry about him a little, that's all. He's a lot like I was - small,
introverted, a little underdeveloped athletically...
Billy prepares to throw a
dart at the target. He aims... concentrates... and throws - the dart flying
backward out of his hand, a woman screaming in the background.
KATHY
Well, it's nice of you.
And Billy really likes you. Thanks for being his friend.
Kathy gives him a little
hug, Wallace becoming slightly flustered. He forgets his arm for the first
time.
WALLACE
You know, if you ever
need any help... or if there's anything I can do - tutoring, bail bonds, engine
overhauls - feel free to give me a call.
KATHY
There is something you
can do.
WALLACE
I knew I shouldn't have
mentioned the engine overhaul...
KATHY
You could take me out
some night so we could get to know each other one-on-one.
Wallace smiles, surprised.
WALLACE
I could do that.
They exchange grins, turning
to see Billy at the softball toss booth, trying to knock metal milk bottles off
a stand. He aims... concentrates... and throws - the barker ducking as the ball
loops past his head. Wallace steps up, taking a ball from Billy.
WALLACE
You're letting go too
soon. You've got to release a little later. Watch.
Without thinking, Wallace
winds up and lets fly - the ball zinging into the milk bottles, which ricochet
off the other bottles, which carom off the walls, dislodging the shelves full
of stuffed animals, which fall and bury the barker. Wallace and Billy exchange
worried looks, until the barker's hand emerges from beneath the pile, handing
Wallace a stuffed toy. He takes it, calling into the pile sheepishly.
WALLACE
Sorry...
DISSOLVE TO:
INT. WALLACE'S APARTMENT -
NIGHT
Wallace enters, weighed down
with stuffed animals. He drops them on the floor, letting out a deep breath. He
tosses his keys down, where they imbed themselves in the coffee table. Wallace
looks to his arm in wonder.
WALLACE
Damn! What is going on
here?
Noticing the light flashing
on his answering machine, he pushes the button, the machine playing his
messages.
WALLACE'S MOM (on machine)
(big sigh)
It's your mother again.
Not one of your flashy Chicago friends. Oh well, guess I'll go talk to the
mailman, tell him about the son I raised who never calls.
Not paying attention,
Wallace grabs a baseball, posing like a pitcher in front of a mirror. He goes
into a clumsy wind up as another message plays, the voice of the Cubs Manager
coming from the machine.
MANAGER (on machine)
Wallace Marsh? This is Casey
Walker, manager of the Chicago Cubs. Listen, we were all real impressed with
the way you threw the ball tonight, so I thought I'd call and see if you'd like
to come down to the park for a little tryout tomorrow. Gate three, eleven a.m.
(pause)
Oh, and bring back those
team towels you stole from the locker room - we know it was you.
Stunned by the message,
Wallace stares at the answering machine in disbelief.
WALLACE
A tryout? With the Cubs? You
gotta be kidding!
(stops, concerned)
Wait. This is too weird.
It's gotta be a dream. In a minute Miss August 1976 is gonna walk in that door
and want to have hot sex, and right when we're in the middle of it my mom'll
walk in with a bag of bratwurst.
He pauses a moment, staring
at the door in anticipation. When nothing happens, a grin spreads across his
face.
WALLACE
I'm going to try out for
the Cubs!
Wallace poses before the
mirror again. He goes through the stretch, wind-up, and his motion, accidently
letting go of the ball - which smashes through both the mirror and the wall
behind it. He hurries to the hole in the wall, calling to his neighbors.
WALLACE
Sorry...
DISSOLVE TO:
EXT. WRIGLEY FIELD - DAY
The ballpark is largely
deserted as the Cubs take batting practice. Ken Davis stands behind the batting
cage, speaking with STEVIE WHITE. A sports agent, Stevie is an incredibly
attractive but businesslike woman - very intimidating. Several players sit in
the dugout, staring at her as they hone their bat handles.
STEVIE
Nike's offered us a deal
worth $100,000.
KEN
Are they nuts? Don't
they know who I am? How much does Michael Jordan get?
STEVIE
Michael Jordan isn't a
slumping, big-butted outfielder on a last place team. I say we take the offer.
Ken frowns, giving Stevie a
hard look.
KEN
Maybe I need a better
agent. When Jordan walks into a restaurant in this town they stand and cheer.
STEVIE
And when you walk in
they guard their plates.
Ken sidles up close to
Stevie, speaking seductively.
KEN
Why don't we go out to
dinner sometime?
STEVIE
I don't date clients.
Besides, I don't think I could afford it.
EXT. WALLACE
steps uncertainly onto the
field, swimming in the oversized uniform he's been given for the tryout. The
Cubs players smirk, fighting back their laughter as he walks past.
CUB PLAYER #3
Is that a player or
someone from the 'Make-A-Wish Foundation'?
Wallace trots to the batting
cage, where the Manager stands with Bip Anderson. Excited and out of shape,
Wallace tries to catch his breath.
MANAGER
You've gotta be kidding.
He doesn't even look like he can lift a ball.
BIP
Trust me, he can.
(to Wallace)
You want to take a few
warm-up tosses?
Wallace shakes his head
nervously.
WALLACE
Naw - let's just get
this over with.
MANAGER
Fine. Take the mound,
we'll see how you do against major league hitters.
Wallace nods, jogging toward
the mound. The Manager turns to Bip, smirking.
MANAGER
You want to take a few
swings, Bip?
BIP
I'll wait and see how
wild he is...
Wallace takes the mound, the
players around the batting cage regarding him suspiciously. He waves awkwardly.
WALLACE
Hi, guys. I guess I'm
throwing batting practice. Just step into the swing and watch the bat meet the
ball...
Stepping up behind the cage,
Ken calls to the Manager.
KEN
Hey, how's this supposed
to help our hitting? Give us a real pitcher.
MANAGER
You guys haven't been
able to hit real pitching all year. Now get in there.
The players grumble
unhappily, the first batter stepping to the plate. Wallace anxiously grabs a
ball from a bucket.
WALLACE
Ready?
CUB PLAYER #4
Just pitch it, butthead!
Nodding, Wallace winds up
and fires... the ball hitting the ground five feet in front of the mound and
bouncing up into the stands. The players laugh as the Manager grimaces.
WALLACE
Ooops. Not used to this
mound...
Wallace picks another ball
out of the basket - zipping it past the batter, who doesn't even have time to
swing. The ball smashes into the backstop and lodges there, the players
instinctively diving out of the way. The Manager's eyes bulge in shock.
WALLACE
(grins)
Hey, this is easier than
I thought!
The man holding the radar
gun whistles, amazed.
RADAR MAN
One-hundred-twenty-three.
The players scoff in
disbelief. The batter steps back into the box, determined.
CUB PLAYER #4
No way! The gun must be
busted. Try it again, butthead!
Wallace shrugs. Winding up,
he lets fly again - the batter swinging and missing by a mile. Wallace laughs,
starting to enjoy his newfound power. He calls out playfully.
WALLACE
That was my change-up!
RADAR MAN
One-twenty-nine...
The players all whistle,
impressed. A goofy grin begins to spread across the Manager's face.
MANAGER
Next batter!
Ken Davis grabs a bat,
stepping angrily to the plate.
KEN
Let's see you throw it
by me, butthead.
Wallace smiles, barely able
to control his excitement. He mutters to himself.
WALLACE
Oh, man - I'm pitching
to Ken Davis! I wish I had this on the camcorder...
Wallace lets another pitch
fly. Ken swings mightily, but way too late. Now the other players are laughing,
enjoying this as much as Wallace, who does a little dance on the mound.
WALLACE
This is so cool! Are you
guys really trying?
Ken pounds the plate with
his bat, taking an aggressive stance in the batters box.
KEN
This one's coming right
back at you, butthead...
Wallace winds up and throws
- Ken can't touch it. Wallace struts around the infield grass as the other
players applaud. Stevie White steps up to the backstop, an interested grin on
her face. Ken rubs some dirt on his hands and steps back in.
WALLACE
Ready?
KEN
PITCH!
Nodding, Wallace throws the
ball. Ken swings too hard, falling on his butt as the ball crashes through the
batting cage and smashes the speed gun out of the man's hand. Ken watches in
shock as Wallace jumps around the infield in triumph.
WALLACE
I did it! I struck out
Ken Davis! I can't believe it!
Wallace hurries to Ken,
helping him up. He speaks like an adoring fan.
WALLACE
This is a great honor
for me, Mr. Davis. I mean, you're my favorite player... and you weren't even
close! I mean, I made you look like the pathetic amateur. I mean...
KEN
(seething)
I know what you
mean.
Bip and the Manager look on,
impressed.
BIP
I think we've got a new
pitcher.
The Manager calls to
Wallace.
MANAGER
Hey, butthead... er,
Marsh! You have an agent, son?
WALLACE
An agent...?
STEVIE (o.s.)
Yes, he does.
The men turn as Stevie White
steps up, flashing a killer smile. Wallace gawks at her, obviously attracted.
STEVIE (cont.)
I represent... uh...
WALLACE
Wallace Marsh.
STEVIE
Right. You're gonna be a
rich man, Wallace Marsh.
Wallace smiles happily,
eyeing Stevie like a schoolboy with a crush as she and the Manager step off.
Brushing the dirt from his uniform, Ken watches from the batting cage, spitting
in disgust. Bip puts his arm around Wallace's shoulders, walking him back to
the dugout.
BIP
I can't believe you've
never pitched before. It's like Leonardo DaVinci never painting, or Vanna White
never learning to spell...
Wallace laughs, speaking to
Bip confidentially.
WALLACE
To tell you the truth, I
couldn't pitch before yesterday. I stuck my arm in that massager in the
locker room and it went haywire. I don't know if it loosened a muscle, or if my
arm was out of joint for thirty five years or what.
Bip grins skeptically,
shaking his leg in the air.
BIP
Right. Pull on this one
and it plays 'Jingle Bells'.
CUT TO:
INT. CUBS' LOCKER ROOM -
DAY
The entire Cubs team is
gathered around the arm massager. They all try it out, then throw a baseball -
each one disappointed. Bip and the Manager watch impatiently.
BIP
Whatever happened, it
only worked on Marsh.
MANAGER
This is it, Bip. I can
feel it. This is the miracle this team's been waiting for.
Ken walks past, grumbling.
KEN
This is the biggest
crock of shit in baseball history.
They look at Ken unhappily
as we...
CUT TO:
INT. KATHY AND BILLY'S
HOUSE - DAY
There is a knock at the
door, Kathy answering to find Wallace on the porch. She smiles, pleasantly
surprised.
KATHY
Well hello!
Wallace steps inside, nearly
vibrating with excitement.
WALLACE
Hi. Where's Billy?
KATHY
(frowns)
Fine, and you?
WALLACE
No, no - I want to see
you, too. This is for both of you.
Puzzled by Wallace's
behavior, Kathy watches him uncertainly as she calls up the stairs.
KATHY
Billy! Wallace is here.
(to Wallace, concerned)
Is everything okay?
WALLACE
Okay is not the word.
Actually, I'm not sure if okay is a word. But everything's fine.
Billy races down the stairs,
jumping over the last two.
BILLY
Hi, Wallace. Going to
score with my mom tonight?
Kathy playfully whacks Billy
on the back of the head. Wallace holds up two baseball tickets.
WALLACE
How would you guys like
to see a Cubs game tonight?
BILLY
Cool! Who's pitching?
WALLACE
(grins)
I am.
Kathy and Billy exchange
startled looks before rushing to embrace Wallace. They dance joyfully around
the living room as we...
DISSOLVE TO:
EXT. WRIGLEY FIELD - NIGHT
Barkers sell programs as
fans file into the stadium. As they hand the magazines to buyers, we see an
insert page has been hastily added, featuring a goofy snapshot of Wallace.
PROGRAM BARKER
Get your programs, here!
Cubs sign a new pitcher - yesterday a nobody on the street, today a well-paid
nobody!
INT. CUBS' LOCKER ROOM -
NIGHT
The players prepare for the
game. Wallace stands at his locker, scraping a piece of tape with the word
'BUTTHEAD' on it off his name plaque. The Manager watches, smiling.
MANAGER
All rookies get razzed.
The thing is not to take it personal.
WALLACE
(nervously)
I've been thinking - I
don't know if I'm ready for this.
The Manager sits Wallace
down - arm around his shoulders, earnest expression on his face, in full
pep-talk mode.
MANAGER
Everyone's nervous
before their first game. Ryan, Koufax, Drysdale - they were all scared. But
they had fire. They had determination. They had greatness. What do you have?
WALLACE
Diarrhea.
MANAGER
Well, try to use it.
(stands to go, pauses)
Whatever happens, enjoy
it. Even if it doesn't work out, you've got something to tell your grandkids.
WALLACE
I'm in my mid-thirties
with no home life at all. I may never have any grandkids.
MANAGER
Listen, I heard your agent's
contract proposal - you can buy grandkids. Just go out there and have
fun.
(moves off)
Somebody's got to. This
team gives me ulcers...
EXT. WRIGLEY FIELD -
BLEACHERS
Kathy and Billy take their
seats as the Cubs warm up.
BILLY
Where's Wallace?
Kathy scans the field,
pointing.
KATHY
There he is - sitting on
the bench in the bullpen.
BILLY
Sitting on the bench?
That's what I do. Maybe there's a future for me in baseball after all...
EXT. WRIGLEY FIELD -
BULLPEN
Wallace sits all alone on
the far end of the bench, nobody talking to him. He seems uncomfortable and out
of place. A voice calls from out of the stands.
STEVIE (o.s.)
Hey, butthead!
Wallace turns to see Stevie
White standing at the railing, papers in hand.
WALLACE
Please, you're my agent.
Call me Mr. Butthead. Or better yet, Wallace.
STEVIE
Okay, Wallace. This is a
six-week contract. Just sign the last page and initial where I've marked.
Wallace takes the contract,
flipping through it.
WALLACE
Don't I have a say in
any of this?
STEVIE
Sure - say 'thank you'.
The only reason I got this much was because of the free publicity I promised
them. You're the best baseball freak since that midget that batted for the
Browns.
WALLACE
What a legacy.
Wallace signs the contract,
handing it back to Stevie, who laughs.
STEVIE
Don't worry, you're kind
of cute for a freak. Oh, and try not to pitch for awhile - don't blow it until
I can wrap up a full years deal.
Stevie saunters away,
Wallace watching appreciatively as she heads back up the aisle. He sits back
down as the first batter steps up, the crowd cheering as the pitcher delivers.
WALLACE
Heybatterheybatterhey -
swing!
The other players turn slowly,
staring at him. Wallace grins, embarrassed.
DISSOLVE TO:
EXT. WRIGLEY FIELD -
SCOREBOARD
The top of the ninth inning.
The Cubs are down 15 to 3.
EXT. BULLPEN
The phone rings, the
PITCHING COACH answering it. Wallace still sits by himself - rally cap on and
rooting valiantly as the other players watch, emotionlessly.
WALLACE
Okay guys - three up,
three down, then we need a rally! They got twelve runs in one inning, so can
we...
The Pitching Coach hangs up
the phone.
PITCHING COACH
Marsh - take your
warm-ups.
WALLACE
(shocked)
Are you crazy? We're
only twelve down!
PITCHING COACH
They want to see you in
a game situation. Loosen up.
WALLACE
I'm ready... I'm
loose...
Wallace grabs his mitt and
jogs onto the field.
WALLACE (cont.)
... I'm a complete idiot
for putting myself in this situation...
EXT. BLEACHERS
Kathy and Billy perk up as
Wallace trots to the mound.
BILLY
There he is - he's going
to pitch!
KATHY
Oh my god...
EXT. PRESS BOX
Stevie speaks into a
cellular phone.
STEVIE
That's right, the team
pays to wash his uniform, and in return Wallace cleans out the shower stall
once a week...
Seeing Wallace headed for
the mound, she sits up, concerned.
STEVIE
Oh my god...
EXT. PITCHERS MOUND
Wallace arrives on the
mound, glancing around at the now sparse, apathetic crowd. Wearing heavy,
hockey goalie-like padding, Bip steps to the mound.
BIP
Here are the signs. One
finger means fastball... do you throw anything else?
WALLACE
I don't know.
Bip is concerned, sensing
that Wallace is rattled.
BIP
We'll stick with the
fastball. What's the matter?
WALLACE
I can't believe the size
of this crowd.
BIP
Yeah, only about five
thousand left. And that's only because most of 'em are too drunk to move.
WALLACE
When I screw up at work
I usually don't have five thousand people watching me.
BIP
Don't let it rattle you.
When I'm nervous I picture everyone in their underwear. It's a great equalizer.
Bip waddles back behind the
plate, Wallace looking up into the bleachers.
EXT. BLEACHERS - WALLACE'S
P.O.V.
The fans still look bored
and apathetic - except now they're all sitting in their underwear. The team
mascot dances on top of the dugout, wearing only it's giant head and a pair of
boxer shorts. Kathy and Billy wave to Wallace, Kathy wearing sexy black lingerie
and blowing him a kiss.
EXT. WALLACE
smiles slyly, waving to
Kathy. He seems more relaxed... until a huge, hairy, potbellied BATTER lumbers
to the plate, his gut drooping over his jockstrap. Wallace frowns, gesturing to
Bip in disgust. Bip trudges out to the mound.
BIP
What now?
WALLACE
(averting eyes from
Batter)
Can we try something
else, or at least have this guy shave his back?
Confused, Bip turns and
looks at the Batter. Understanding, he turns to Wallace.
BIP
Jesus, don't imagine him
in his underwear. You'd never throw a strike.
WALLACE
I can't help it, it's
fascinating - like a used Kleenex or a scab...
BIP
Try!
Bip heads back behind the
plate. The Batter sneers at all the excess padding.
BATTER #1
Who are you, the
Michelin Man?
BIP
I see you already carry
a spare tire.
The Batter scowls, stepping
into the box. Bip squats, the UMPIRE crouching behind him. Wallace takes a deep
breath and winds up.
WALLACE
I hope my parents aren't
watching this on TV...
Wallace fires a 125 m.p.h.
fastball which knocks Bip and the Umpire on their backs. The Batter stares,
wide-eyed, as the Umpire calls out, sandwiched between Bip and the backstop.
M.L. UMPIRE
Strike!
INT. DUGOUT
The Manager and coaches
exchange smug grins.
EXT. BLEACHERS
Kathy and Billy cheer, the
fans around them sitting up and taking notice of the action on the field.
EXT. PRESS BOX
Impressed by Wallace's
performance, Stevie speaks confidently into a cellular phone.
STEVIE
... That's right, in
the contract - a home jacuzzi, a $50,000 signing bonus, and a new car. But
enough about me, let's talk about Wallace...
EXT. HOME PLATE
The Batter dives out of the
box as the ball whistles down the middle of the plate.
M.L. UMPIRE
Strike three!
EXT. HOME PLATE - A MINUTE
LATER
The next batter dives for
safety.
M.L. UMPIRE
Strike three!
EXT. HOME PLATE - A MINUTE
LATER
A third batter shrugs, bat
on his shoulder, walking back to the dugout before the pitch even comes in.
M.L. UMPIRE
Steeee-rike three!
You're outta there!
DISSOLVE TO:
INT. DUGOUT
After the game, Wallace
gathers up his things, the other players slapping him on the back as they pass
by. Wallace notices Ken Davis at the end of the dugout, stepping toward him
uncertainly.
WALLACE
Uh, Mr. Davis?
Ken looks up, not thrilled
to see Wallace.
KEN
What do you want?
WALLACE
I wanted to apologize
for the way I acted after I struck you out this morning. I didn't mean to gloat
or anything, I just got a little carried away. I hope you don't mind.
They turn as a group of
reporters clatter into the dugout, photographers flashing photos of Wallace and
Ken. Big smile on his face, Ken places a friendly hand on Wallace's shoulder.
Wallace beams happily... smile fading as Ken speaks out of the side of his
mouth.
KEN
No, I don't mind. I don't mind that some little weenie
throws a few lucky pitches and acts like he just won the World Series. I don't
mind being made to look like a fool in front of my teammates. And I'm sure you
won't mind my knocking all your teeth down your throat if you ever do it again.
Wallace can only stare at
his hero in shock as the flashbulbs continue to pop.
DISSOLVE TO:
INT. RESTAURANT BAR - NIGHT
Wallace and Kathy sit at a
table, enjoying a late dinner after the game.
KATHY
This has been some day.
Your whole life is going to change.
WALLACE
I guess. But it doesn't
seem real. It's like a dream I used to have as a kid, only less believable.
Kathy laughs as behind the
bar the bartender turns on the TV news, the sports segment playing. Wallace and
Kathy look up, surprised to see Wallace's face onscreen.
INSERT - TV SCREEN
REPORTER (on TV)
With me is Wallace
Marsh, the Chicago Cubs' newest acquisition, who tonight astounded fans and
opposing batters by throwing fastballs clocked at over 120 miles per hour.
Onscreen, Wallace giggles,
trying not to laugh. The Reporter gives him a strange look, pressing on.
REPORTER (cont. - on TV)
Wallace, never in my
career have I...
Wallace snorts, letting out
a guffaw. The Reporter pauses, confused.
REPORTER (cont. - on TV)
Uh, is everything all
right?
WALLACE (on TV)
(trying to control self)
It's nothing, it's just
- your cameraman looks ridiculous in his underwear!
Onscreen, Wallace bursts out
laughing, the Reporter looking into the camera, bewildered.
INT. RESTAURANT BAR
Kathy turns away from the
TV, giving Wallace an odd look.
WALLACE
(shrugs)
It's something Bip
taught me...
A WAITER steps up, looking
to Wallace, then the TV, then back to Wallace.
WAITER
Hey! You're the guy on
the TV. You pitch for the Cubs?
WALLACE
Uh, yeah. I do.
He looks to Kathy, smiling
and raising his eyebrows. He likes the sound of that.
WAITER
Can I have your
autograph?
WALLACE
(surprised)
Sure. Can I have yours?
You're the first person to ever ask me.
Wallace and the Waiter each
sign napkins, exchanging them.
WAITER
Thanks, man. Sorry the
team's so bad.
The Waiter walks away, Kathy
smiling at Wallace.
KATHY
I've never been with a
celebrity before.
WALLACE
That's what's weird
about it. It's like it's some kind of fluke or something. He should've asked
for your autograph, you're the one doing all the hard work. I know it can't be
easy raising Billy, especially with your husband gone.
KATHY
Are you kidding? It's easier
without him. He never payed attention to me. I used to think he heard every
third word I said.
WALLACE
I hate guys like that.
Two more GUYS step up to the
table.
GUY #1
Are you that Cubs
pitcher?
GUY #2
Can we have your
autograph?
WALLACE
I pitched in one game,
why do you want my autograph?
GUY #1
It might be worth
hundreds of dollars some day.
WALLACE
Maybe if I signed
hundred dollar bills.
They laugh, Wallace signing
their napkins.
KATHY
So, as I was saying, he
ignored me all the time...
WALLACE
What?
KATHY
My husband. He always
ignored me.
WALLACE
I hate guys like that.
KATHY
And he was constantly
flirting with other women.
A beautiful girl in a tight
skirt walks by, slipping a piece of paper into Wallace's jacket pocket. Wallace
watches her go, amazed. Kathy waves her hand in front of his eyes.
KATHY
Wallace?
WALLACE
Huh? Oh, yeah - I hate
guys like that...
KATHY
What did that girl give
you?
Wallace looks at the slip of
paper.
WALLACE
Uh... her autograph.
KATHY
She gave you hers?
WALLACE
Well, it's her
autograph... and phone number. But I'd never call her.
Wallace crumples the paper -
and slips it back into his pocket. Kathy looks at him pointedly.
KATHY
I guess you could say my
ex-husband was inconsiderate, thoughtless and rude.
Wallace is turned to the
bar, watching himself on TV, where he holds up a Little League candy bar in
mid-sales pitch.
WALLACE
What a jerk...
KATHY
Just like you've been
tonight.
Wallace turns back to her,
frowning sheepishly.
WALLACE
I'm sorry, I don't know
what's wrong with me...
KATHY
(smiles)
I understand. It's a big
night for you, you should enjoy it. But whatever happens, try to stay Wallace,
okay?
Wallace grins, taking her
hand.
WALLACE
Okay.
KATHY
Now give me the paper
with that girl's phone number.
Sighing, Wallace digs it out
of his pocket, handing it to Kathy, who burns it over the candle.
CUT TO:
EXT. LITTLE LEAGUE FIELD -
DAY
Ed Norman runs the Little
Leaguers through a militaristic practice: jumping jacks... running laps... Ed
hoses down the dirt between first and second, the kids running through the mud
carrying bats over their heads as if they were rifles.
EXT. PARKING LOT
Wallace pulls up, climbing
wearily out of his car. Billy rushes out to greet him. Behind them we see
players charge the mound, where Ed has set up a tackling dummy in a Little
League uniform.
BILLY
I saw you on the news
last night, Wallace! You were great. How'd you do with my mom after the game?
WALLACE
Not so well, I'm afraid.
Billy frowns, disappointed.
BILLY
I know she likes you -
she bought new underwear. That's usually the sign.
Wallace pulls the equipment
bags from the trunk, trying to change the subject.
WALLACE
She probably exchanged
them for chastity belts this morning. How's practice?
BILLY
Great. I think I'm
getting the hang of it. Watch - you be the second baseman, and I'll show how I
spike you...
Shouldering the equipment
bag, Wallace walks with Billy to the field.
WALLACE
Ed's teaching you that?
BILLY
Not just... want to see
how to cork a bat?
EXT. LITTLE LEAGUE FIELD
Wallace steps onto the
field, the kids all running to surround him, cheering their new hero.
WALLACE
Okay, calm down! It's
only me, guys.
Ed stands to one side,
jealous of Wallace's sudden success.
ED
Wallace is right,
everybody back to work. We've got a game next week.
KEVIN
That was so cool,
Wallace - could you kill someone with a pitch if you hit him in the head?
WALLACE
I'm not trying to hit anyone.
Baseball is for fun.
(glares at Ed)
There will be no
beaning, spiking, corking or anything like that. Am I understood?
THIRD BASEMAN
Hey - check out the
babe!
Everyone turns to see Stevie
White stepping onto the field, a TV camera crew following her.
WALLACE
Now what...?
(sees Stevie,
starry-eyed)
Oh, hi!
STEVIE
(brightly)
Hi, Mr. Butthead. Do you
have time for an interview with C.N.N.? They want to do a story on the Little
League coach signed by a major league team, but who still has time to guide his
kids and mold them into little men. Catchy, huh?
WALLACE
Are you kidding? I
barely had the energy to guide myself to practice.
The C.N.N. REPORTER turns to
Ed curiously.
C.N.N. REPORTER
Say - aren't you Ed
Norman?
ED
(confused)
Yes... how did you know
that?
C.N.N. REPORTER
You were beaned by your
own son at Wrigley Field the other night. It was 'Play of the Day' on our
sports show.
KEVIN
I made 'Play of the
Day'!
The kids all cheer, giving
Kevin high fives as Ed rubs the bump on his forehead. Wallace takes Stevie
aside.
WALLACE
Do we have to? I'm kind
of busy here.
STEVIE
Are you kidding? A big
league pitcher who takes time out to coach a team of measly Little Leaguers?
That's great human interest.
WALLACE
Yes, but how can I coach
them if I'm being interviewed by C.N.N.?
Stevie glances at her watch
impatiently.
STEVIE
You can't, you've got to
be across town for a commercial shoot in forty-five minutes. Let the big guy
with the lump on his head run things.
Wallace perks up,
interested.
WALLACE
Me in a commercial? Like Michael Jordan and Ken Davis? This is incredible! What's the product - Nike shoes?
Gatorade? Soloflex?
CUT TO:
INT. TV STUDIO - NIGHT
Wallace stands on a pitchers
mound in his Cubs uniform. We winds up and throws, an UMPIRE calling out.
UMPIRE #2 (o.s.)
Strike three!
Wallace mops his brow as an
ANNOUNCER'S voice is heard.
V.O. ANNOUNCER (o.s.)
Wallace Marsh - Cubs
pitcher and cheese lover.
Wallace speaks awkwardly
into the CAMERA.
WALLACE
Have you ever had a craving
for cheese, but didn't want the bother?
(reaches off-camera)
Well, bother no more...
(holds up bottle of
yellow liquid)
... with Jacob's
Delicious Cheese Drink! It comes in three flavors - cheddar, jalepeno, and
bubbly swiss. It's just the thing after a hard day on the mound, cheesing off
batters.
He takes a swig, leaving a
thick cheese moustache on his upper lip. He tries not to grimace.
WALLACE
Eccch! That really hits
the spot. So drink Jacob's Delicious Cheese Drink - your stomach will churn for
it.
A man in a COW suit steps
into frame.
COW
It's dairy-licious!
The DIRECTOR calls out
tiredly.
DIRECTOR
Okay, let's do it
again...
Everyone groans. The Cow
stalks off as Stevie steps up to Wallace, who wipes his tongue on his sleeve.
STEVIE
Nice job, you're a
natural at this.
WALLACE
Really? You don't think
eighty-three takes is too many?
Stevie smiles, rubbing his
back supportively.
STEVIE
No, no. You're doing
great - you haven't even thrown up since take 58.
WALLACE
(groaning)
Eighty-three takes...
(glances at watch)
Jeez, what time is it? I
have to make a phone call...
He hurries to a pay phone,
where the man in the Cow suit screams into the receiver, holding it up to the
mask's mouth.
COW
Why do I have to work
with amateurs? I'm a classically trained actor! I've auditioned for
Shakespeare...!
The Cow slams down the
phone, Wallace hurriedly inserting his coins and dialing.
WALLACE
Hello, Kathy? It's me -
Wallace... Hi. You'll never guess where I am... Right, I'm not on a date with you,
which is where I said I'd be. But I'm filming a commercial!... Yeah, for a
cheese drink... No, not since take 58...
Wallace leans against the
wall, the Cow pacing agitatedly behind him, smoking a cigarette through his
mask.
WALLACE (cont.)
It looks like we're
going to be here a while, so I won't be able to make dinner... Tomorrow? Uh,
I've got to go with the team on a road trip tomorrow. How about I call you when
I get back?... Okay. I'm really sorry...
He hangs up, a guilty look
on his face. He turns to the Cow.
WALLACE
It's all yours.
COW
(wiggling an udder)
Suck me.
The Cow grabs the phone and
dials, Wallace turning to see Stevie standing nearby.
STEVIE
Girlfriend?
WALLACE
Yes. No. I don't know,
we've only gone out a couple of times...
STEVIE
So what's the problem?
If she liked you before you were famous, think how much she's gonna like you
when you have six-figure endorsement deals under your belt. Besides, tonight
you're going to dinner with me.
WALLACE
Really?
STEVIE
I know this great little
Russian place with the best cheese blintzes...
Wallace groans, holding his
stomach. Stevie laughs playfully as they head back to the set.
DISSOLVE TO:
INT. BUS - DAY
The Cubs players take their
seats on the bus, all looking groggy and tired - except Wallace, who's never
been so happy in his life. He sits next to Bip, bouncing excitedly.
WALLACE
A road trip! Isn't this
great? We're getting paid to see the country.
BIP
See the country? How
different do you think the Holiday Inn in New York is from the one in
Pittsburgh?
The Manager walks down the
aisle, handing out envelopes.
MANAGER
All right, you know the
rules - curfew's at midnight. No babes, no booze, no sticking body parts out
the bus windows...
The Manager hands Wallace an
envelope. He rips it open, jaw dropping in amazement.
WALLACE
What's this?
MANAGER
Meal money.
WALLACE
Are you kidding? This is
my rent!
CUT TO:
EXT. JACK MURPHY STADIUM -
NIGHT
The Cubs lead the San Diego
Padres in the ninth, 6 - 5. The fans are rowdy and unhappy.
S.D. ANNOUNCER (o.s.)
Now pitching for the
Chicago Cubs - Wallace Marsh.
There are loud boos as
Wallace takes the mound. He looks around as the hostile fans and opposing
players heckle him. Bip steps up, grinning.
BIP
Isn't it great to see
the country like this? Okay, 1-2-3, just like Chicago.
WALLACE
I've never had this many
people boo me before - except for when I got caught with my girlfriend under
the bleachers in college. That was a tough crowd.
BIP
Tell you how we shut 'em
up. When you take your warm-ups, uncork a wild one.
Bip heads back behind the
plate as Wallace continues to be razzed. Wallace winds up and uncorks a high
pitch. Very high. It smashes a row of stadium lights, silencing the crowd. The
first batter steps up, looking to Bip anxiously.
S.D. BATTER
Jesus - how hard does
this guy throw?
BIP
I don't know, he's too
wild for the speed gun to get a reading.
Gulping nervously, the
batter steps in. Wallace throws his first pitch, the batter diving out of the
way - as does every fan in the park, ducking under their seats. Bip catches the
ball down the middle of the plate, the umpire poking his head over the
catcher's shoulder, relieved.
S.D. UMPIRE
Oh! Strike.
CUT TO:
INT. HOTEL ROOM - NIGHT
Wallace dances into the
room, Bip dragging in behind him.
WALLACE
I love staying in
hotels. Let's make prank phone calls to the other guys.
Bip dials the phone as
Wallace trampolines on his bed.
BIP
Room service? This is Mr.
Coffee in room 312. I'd like a club sandwich and tea...
(looks to Wallace)
... and my roommate
would like a shot of valium.
Bip hangs up, lying back on
his bed tiredly.
WALLACE
I still don't get why we
have to register under fake names.
BIP
Because if the other
team's fans knew we were here they'd call all night and we'd never get any
sleep.
The phone rings, Wallace
answering it brightly.
WALLACE
Hello, Mrs. Butterworth
speaking...
A familiar voice comes over
the line.
WALLACE'S MOM (on phone)
So now you're using
aliases to avoid talking to your mother...?
Wallace covers the
mouthpiece, turning to Bip.
WALLACE
I think we need a better
system.
CUT TO:
EXT. DODGER STADIUM - NIGHT
The score is tied 3 - 3 in
the eighth, the Cubs at bat. Ken Davis is at the plate, swinging and missing
the first pitch. Wallace and the others watch from the dugout - Wallace wearing
a rally cap and chewing a plug of tobacco. He calls out encouragingly.
WALLACE
Okay, big Ken! Smack
that baby! Tear the cover off the ball!
Ken gives Wallace a look
before stepping back in, where he swings and misses for strike two. Wallace
calls out again.
WALLACE
That's okay, Kenny-baby!
You can do it - step into the pitch and watch the bat meet the ball!
Seething, Ken drops his bat
to his side, yelling back at Wallace.
KEN
I know how to hit, you
asshole!
He doesn't even notice as
the pitch floats over the plate.
L.A. UMPIRE
Steee-rike three!
Ken slams down his bat in
frustration. The players sitting near Wallace scoot away from him as we...
CUT TO:
EXT. DODGER STADIUM -
CLUBHOUSE EXIT - NIGHT
The players head toward the
team bus, accosted by fans. A well-endowed GROUPIE approaches Wallace.
GROUPIE
Are you that goofy
pitcher? I think you're cute. Will you sign my breasts?
WALLACE
Uh, I don't have a
pen...
GROUPIE
(purring)
I guess you'll have to
use your tongue.
Wallace swallows, eyeing her
breasts uncertainly.
WALLACE
I don't think I have
enough saliva...
Stevie steps up, dragging
Wallace away.
STEVIE
Sorry - he's with me...
Ken Davis watches jealously
from the bus as Stevie leads Wallace to a waiting limousine.
CUT TO:
EXT. CANDLESTICK PARK - DAY
Bottom of the ninth. Wallace
is on the mound as we hear Harry Caray's voice over the radio.
HARRY CARAY (o.s.)
... The Giants have two
on, two out in the bottom of the ninth, Cubs lead 6 to 4. Wallace Marsh has
been brought in to dazzle another crowd with his amazing fastball...
Wallace winds up and fires,
the batter wincing as he checks his swing, the ball accidently hitting the bat.
HARRY CARAY (cont. - o.s.)
... Here's the pitch -
check swing blooper... oh my goodness...!
The ball carries, the fans
rising to their feet.
HARRY CARAY (cont. - o.s.)
... It's still
carrying... Ken Davis at the warning track... It's gone! A check swing home
run! Cubs lose!
The San Francisco fans go
crazy, Wallace standing on the mound in shock.
CUT TO:
EXT. PLANE - NIGHT
A private jet speeds back to
Chicago.
INT. PLANE
Wallace sits with Stevie,
the only two passengers on the plane. Wallace seems annoyed.
WALLACE
Why couldn't I fly back
with the team in the morning?
STEVIE
I've got a lot of
appearances lined up for you. You're a big celebrity in Chicago now.
WALLACE
(scoffs)
As the guy who gave up a
three-run homer to lose our last game?
Stevie grins, looking to
Wallace pointedly.
STEVIE
A check swing homer. You pitch so fast that any contact at all sends
the ball over the fence. That home run will make you more famous than if you
struck out the side. This is the stuff baseball legends are made of.
WALLACE
Three-run homers are the
stuff ex-relief pitchers are made of.
(leans back, sighs)
It'll be good to get
back. I've been neglecting my store, and the Little League team...
Stevie frowns, a little
irritated.
STEVIE
What are you talking
about? You don't have time for that stuff any more. This is your life
now. You're a major league pitcher, you have different obligations - to the
team, to yourself, to me. Let somebody else handle that other stuff, it's not
your responsibility any more.
WALLACE
(thinking)
Maybe you're right. I
just don't want to let anyone down...
Stevie pats his hand
reassuringly.
STEVIE
I like you, Wallace.
You're not like most athletes. They're all so money and celebrity conscious.
You're not like that.
WALLACE
No, but I'm ready to
learn...
Stevie kisses Wallace
lightly on the cheek.
STEVIE
Get some sleep.
She leans back, closing her
eyes. Wallace looks down, realizing that her hand still rests on his. He slips
his hand away, slapping it sternly with his other hand. Stevie's hand glides
over, caressing his again. Wallace turns to her, Stevie smiling seductively.
They kiss as we...
DISSOLVE TO:
INT. BASEBALL CARD SHOP -
DAY
Clinton sits behind the
counter, reading a 'Penthouse' featuring the 'Girls of Chernobyl' - a woman on
the cover shielding her three breasts with her hand. Clinton looks up as
Wallace enters, his arm confidently around Stevie.
WALLACE
Hey, Clinton! How's
business?
CLINTON
If we had any I could tell
you.
(whispers)
Who's the luscious babe?
WALLACE
Oh, this is my agent,
Stevie White.
CLINTON
Agent? Weren't you 'Pet
of the Month', February 1989?
Stevie frowns, staying as
close to the door as possible.
STEVIE
Sorry.
CLINTON
I could've sworn...
could you just moisten your lips and kind of lay back against the counter...?
Wallace hurriedly puts an
arm around Clinton's shoulders, leading him toward the back of the store.
WALLACE
Uh, listen, Clinton. I
was wondering - what are your plans?
CLINTON
(thinking)
I'm not sure, I'll
either settle down with the 'Girls of the Big 10', or plug in my 'Booty and the
Breast' videotape.
WALLACE
No, not your plans tonight,
your career plans. I'm not going to have time to run the shop any more, being
on the road with the Cubs and all. I'd like you to run it for me.
Clinton looks at Wallace,
surprised.
CLINTON
Me? Run the shop? All by
myself?
WALLACE
(benevolently)
Yes. All by yourself.
Clinton frowns, yelling at a
startled Wallace.
CLINTON
And destroy my social
life?
CUT TO:
EXT. LITTLE LEAGUE FIELD -
DAY
Wallace steps onto the
field, while Stevie takes a seat in the bleachers. Ed Norman has the team
gathered around the pitchers mound, where he lectures.
ED
... All baseball players spit
and adjust their cups, but you've got to do it in the right order.
(demonstrates)
Snort - spit - adjust
your cup. Do it wrong and you've got a logey hanging off your arm.
KIDS
Snort - spit - adjust
your cup.
Billy sits at the back of
the group, bored. He sees Wallace, calling out happily.
BILLY
Wallace!
The others jump up, cheering
as they rush to surround him.
WALLACE
Hi, guys. Listen, could
everyone kind of gather around, I've got some news...
EXT. DUGOUT
A few of the fathers have
gathered near the dugout. One glances at Stevie in the bleachers, eyes going
wide.
FATHER #2
Check it out, guys. In
the black dress - no panties!
Excited, they high five
before casually sauntering toward the stands.
EXT. LITTLE LEAGUE FIELD
Wallace speaks haltingly to
the team. This is hard for him.
WALLACE
I know it's been tough
for you guys with your coach gone all the time...
The Second Baseman calls
out.
SECOND BASEMAN
We won four games since
you were gone!
WALLACE
Oh... great. Anyway, I
feel like I'm holding the team back because I'm not here to help...
THIRD BASEMAN
We're only two games out
of first!
Wallace frowns, surprised.
WALLACE
Uh-huh. So I'm afraid I
have to step down as your manager and turn the team over to Ed. Are there any
questions?
KEVIN
(raises hand)
Have you nailed that
luscious babe yet?
Wallace glances at Billy
uneasily.
WALLACE
Well, if there are no
more questions...
Ed claps his hands sharply.
ED
Okay guys, everyone to
the snack bar - sodas on me.
The kids all cheer, running
off. Billy steps to where Wallace stands, bewildered.
WALLACE
You guys are really good
now?
BILLY
They are. I never
play. Do you really have to quit, Wallace?
Wallace puts a reassuring
hand on Billy's shoulder.
WALLACE
Afraid so. Playing with
the Cubs is kind of a full-time thing. There's more to it than I thought.
Billy looks up as Kathy's
car pulls into the parking lot.
BILLY
I have something for
you, it's in my mom's car.
WALLACE
Great.
(grimaces)
Oooh - your mom's here?
They walk toward the parking
lot, Wallace waving to Stevie lovingly. The fathers all stand near the
bleachers, whistling idly and sucking in their guts. Stevie waves to Wallace,
bored - the fathers smiling and waving back at her.
EXT. PARKING LOT
Kathy climbs out of her car
as Wallace and Billy step up. She smiles, happy to see Wallace.
KATHY
So, the baseball legend
returns. How was your trip?
BILLY
Wallace quit the Little
League team.
Wallace shrugs uneasily. As
he and Kathy talk, Billy climbs into the back seat of the car.
WALLACE
I just don't have the
time, with the road trips and the interviews...
KATHY
Yeah, that makes sense.
It's too bad though, I know the kids loved having a real baseball star coaching
them. It's really good to see you, Wallace.
WALLACE
It's good to see you,
too. I'm sorry I didn't call, but some strange things happened on the road
trip...
KATHY
That's okay, you'll make
it up at that dinner you owe me.
WALLACE
(frowns)
Dinner, right. I'm
afraid I may have to give a rain check on that. I'm really swamped right now...
Wallace and Kathy look up as
Stevie approaches. The fathers tag along behind her, having a hard time walking
with their guts sucked in.
STEVIE
Wallace, can we leave now?
(nods to fathers)
It's getting crowded
around here.
WALLACE
Uh, sure. Kathy Aaron, I'd
like you to meet Stevie White.
Kathy sizes up Stevie
knowingly. They nod to one another.
KATHY
I see.
WALLACE
Stevie's my agent.
Kathy smiles wanly. Stevie
frowns at Wallace as Billy climbs out of the car, presenting Wallace a large
painting of him on the mound in his Cubs uniform.
BILLY
I had some trouble with
the eyes. They're kind of weird looking.
WALLACE
Then it probably looks just
like me.
(looks at painting,
touched)
Billy... this is
terrific... you did this yourself?
BILLY
Yeah.
WALLACE
I don't know what to
say. Thank you.
Stevie is already in
Wallace's car, honking the horn.
STEVIE
Come on, Wallace. We've
got to be downtown in half an hour.
Wallace looks to Kathy and
Billy apologetically.
WALLACE
I've got to go. Listen,
I'll give you guys a call. For real this time. This is a great painting,
Billy.
Wallace climbs into his car,
he and Stevie pulling away. Kathy and Billy watch him go, Billy waving sadly.
BILLY
Goodbye, Wallace.
DISSOLVE TO:
EXT. WRIGLEY FIELD -
BLEACHERS - DAY
TV cameras have been set up
all over Wrigley Field for a nationally televised game. The mood is different,
the stands full and the fans rowdy. They hold up handmade signs for the cameras
- one man raising a 'MATTHEW 3:15' sign, another waving a banner reading 'JOHN
3:3'. They notice one another, a fistfight breaking out.
EXT. KEN DAVIS
steps to the plate. He
glances toward the left field bleachers, where a sign reading 'KEN DAVIS HOMER
ZONE' has been hung. He grins smugly as a TV ANNOUNCER calls the game.
TV ANNOUNCER (o.s.)
... One out, runner on
first as Ken Davis steps to the plate for the streaking Cubs. They lead by one,
eighth inning, four p.m. Chicago time, stadium full, C.B.S., network of
champions, Saturday, the 23rd of June, 1992, A.D., fans going wild...
INT. DUGOUT
The Manager glances at the
scoreboard, conferring with his coaches.
MANAGER
He's slumping - better
have him bunt the runner over.
The Manager flashes a sign
to the third base coach.
EXT. WRIGLEY FIELD
The third base coach relays
the sign to Ken, who scowls unhappily before stepping into the box.
EXT. BULLPEN
Wallace watches the game
from the bullpen, shouting encouragement.
WALLACE
C'mon, Ken-baby! Let's
go, big fella--
The bullpen catcher
hurriedly reaches over, covering Wallace's mouth with his hands.
EXT. WRIGLEY FIELD
The pitcher delivers to the
plate - but instead of squaring to bunt Ken swings away.
TV ANNOUNCER (o.s.)
The runner goes and
Davis swings - it's a long fly ball, the left fielder going back... back... to
the wall...
The fans stand anxiously,
watching the flight of the ball.
TV ANNOUNCER (cont. - o.s.)
... and it's caught on
the warning track. Hendricks guns it to the cutoff man, who fires to first for
an easy double play.
The fans slump back into
their seats, disappointed.
INT. DUGOUT
The Manager tosses his hat
across the dugout in disgust as Ken trots back in.
MANAGER
What the hell was that?
I told you to bunt!
KEN
I guess I missed the
sign. Sorry.
Grabbing his mitt, Ken
starts onto the field, muttering to the shortstop.
KEN
Who does he think he is?
I'm not laying down a bunt on national TV...
EXT. WRIGLEY FIELD
In the bullpen, the Pitching
Coach hangs up the phone, turning to Wallace.
PITCHING COACH
Okay, Marsh - you're in.
Wallace jumps up, taking off
his jacket. He trots down the foul line, the fans beginning to chuckle as he
passes. They point and laugh, word spreading quickly. The players on the field
are puzzled by the laughter... all except for Ken, who grins nastily in left
field.
KEN
Let's see how you like
being the center of attention now, butthead.
Wallace reaches the mound,
confused by the fans' reaction. As he turns we see that someone has replaced
the name on the back of his jersey with the word 'BUTTHEAD'. The other players
try not to laugh as Wallace self-consciously checks his fly.
INT. BROADCAST BOOTH
The TV Announcer frowns,
puzzled.
TV ANNOUNCER
Something seems to have
caught the fans' attention...
(looks at TV monitor)
... Ooops - never mind.
EXT. WRIGLEY FIELD
Shrugging, Wallace delivers
the first pitch - the batter laughing so hard he doesn't even bother to swing.
TV ANNOUNCER (o.s.)
The first pitch... an
incredible fastball by butthead - I mean Marsh.
The fans begin to chant.
FANS
Butthead! Butthead!
Butthead!
Wallace finally looks over
his shoulder, pulling on his jersey to see the fake nameplate. Laughing, he
tips his cap to the crowd, who cheer and chant even louder. In left field,
Ken's smile fades as he looks around the stadium in disbelief.
CUT TO:
INT. CLOTHING STORE - DAY
We chart Wallace's rise as
the season progresses. He models an expensive new suit, standing uncertainly in
front of a mirror as Stevie nods approvingly, pinching his behind.
CUT TO:
EXT. CAR LOT - DAY
A salesman drops the keys to
a new Porsche convertible into Wallace's hand. Stevie climbs into the car, the
salesman checking out her legs and nudging Wallace admiringly.
CUT TO:
INT. EXPENSIVE HOME - DAY
A real estate broker shows
Wallace and Stevie the empty living room of a palatial home. The broker looks
to Wallace expectantly. He shrugs, looking to Stevie, who nods her head 'yes'.
Handshakes all around.
CUT TO:
INT. WRIGLEY FIELD -
CONCESSIONS STAND - DAY
The concessions stands at
the ballpark have started to sell official Wallace Marsh 'Butthead' souvenirs -
caps, pennants, t-shirts. They're doing a brisk business.
CUT TO:
EXT. WRIGLEY FIELD -
PITCHERS MOUND - DAY
Wallace strikes out a batter
to end the game. He smiles happily as Bip hurries out to congratulate him.
HARRY CARAY (o.s.)
... Cubs win! Cubs win!
Wallace Marsh strikes out the side as the Cubs take their tenth in a row...
CUT TO:
INT. TV STATION - BLOOPER
SET - DAY
Wallace stands uncomfortably
on the set of a sports bloopers TV show. He speaks woodenly into the camera.
WALLACE
Hello, I'm Wallace
Marsh, host of 'Goofy Sports Bloopers'. Tonight we'd like to focus on
'Baseball's Wackiest Career-Ending Beanballs'...
CUT TO:
EXT. WRIGLEY FIELD -
BATTERS BOX - DAY
Ken Davis takes a big swing
and misses, pounding the dirt with his bat before heading back to the dugout.
HARRY CARAY (o.s.)
Strike three! Ken Davis
is now 0 for his last 24 at-bats. I've never seen him slump this badly...
CUT TO:
EXT. WRIGLEY FIELD - LEFT
FIELD BLEACHERS - DAY
The fans replace the 'KEN
DAVIS HOMER ZONE' banner with a new one reading 'BUTTHEAD MARSH FAN CLUB'. They
all wear rump-shaped butthead hats.
CUT TO:
EXT. BILLY'S ROOM - DAY
Billy sits on his bed, the
walls covered with Wallace Marsh paraphernalia. He affixes a stamp to an
envelope addressed to Wallace, hurrying out to mail it.
CUT TO:
EXT. WRIGLEY FIELD - DAY
On the mound, Wallace throws
a pitch inside, the batter diving out of the way. Angry, he tosses aside his
bat and charges the mound. Wallace turns and runs, zig-zagging across the field
as the larger, less agile batter chases after him. He races into left field,
where Ken watches with amusement. Panting, the batter yells at Wallace.
ANGRY BATTER
Come back here, you
little weenie!
Frustrated, the batter slugs
Ken in the face.
CUT TO:
EXT. CHICAGO STREET - DAY
A bus pulls up to a stop
light, an advertisement on the side plugging the 'WALLACE MARSH HOTLINE -
1-900-BUT-HEAD'. Below a gauzy photo of Wallace the ad promises 'LEARN HIS
SECRET THOUGHTS AND DESIRES - DIET TIPS - ADVICE TO THE LOVELORN'.
CUT TO:
EXT. BILLY'S HOUSE - DAY
Billy opens the mailbox,
thrilled to find a manila envelope from the 'Wallace Marsh Fan Club'. He tears
it open, smile fading as he finds an autographed 8 x 10 of Wallace, and a form
letter with the name 'Billy' typed in all the appropriate places.
CUT TO:
INT. WRIGLEY FIELD -
MANAGER'S OFFICE - DAY
The Manager sits at his desk
as a COACH enters tentatively.
COACH
Uh, the new mascot's
here...
MANAGER
What is it, another
teddy bear?
The Coach steps aside as the
mascot enters - wearing a Cubs uniform, it sports a huge butt where it's head
should be. The Manager can only cradle his head in his hands.
COACH
(brightly)
It plays the kazoo...
CUT TO:
INT. ASSEMBLY HALL - NIGHT
Wallace stands at a podium,
speaking to a group of Shriners. He seems more comfortable than we've seen him
before. We PULL BACK to see everyone in the audience wearing only their
underwear and fezzes.
CUT TO:
EXT. BASEBALL PARKS -
VARIOUS SHOTS - DAY/NIGHT
We see a series of shots as
Wallace pitches, striking out batters. He is beginning to look more tired and
withdrawn as we hear Harry Caray's voice over the action.
HARRY CARAY (v.o.)
Chicago is in the grips
of pennant fever as the Cubs now trail the New York Mets by only three games.
The entire Cub team has rallied from their early season slump, galvanized by
the miraculous relief pitching of Wallace 'Butthead' Marsh...
CUT TO:
EXT. THREE-RIVERS STADIUM -
CLUBHOUSE EXIT - NIGHT
Fans surround Wallace as he
heads for the team bus, calling for his autograph. He pushes through them
tiredly.
WALLACE
I can't, not now...
excuse me...
He climbs onto the bus,
ignoring their pleas.
CUT TO:
INT. BASEBALL CARD SHOW -
DAY
Wallace sits at a table,
beneath a sign reading 'WALLACE MARSH AUTOGRAPHED BASEBALLS - $50'. A long line
of children and their fathers wait, money in hand, as Wallace signs.
CUT TO:
INT. BILLY'S HOUSE - NIGHT
CLOSE on a TV, where Wallace
is onscreen holding up a tennis shoe.
WALLACE (on TV)
The 'Air-Butthead', by
Nike...
CLICK! The channel changes
to another commercial, where Wallace holds up an adult diaper.
WALLACE (on TV)
... The official Wallace
Marsh adult diaper - for the fan who never wants to leave his seat...
CLICK! The channel changes
again, Wallace now holding a box labeled 'FRESH N' FREE'.
WALLACE (on TV)
... Say, girls - ever
have that 'not-so-fresh' feeling...?
CLICK! The channel changes
once more, this time to Ken Davis holding a bottle of cheese drink and standing
with the Cow.
KEN & COW
It's dairy-licious!
We PULL BACK to see Billy
slumped on the couch, TV remote in hand. He frowns unhappily, clicking the TV
set off.
CUT TO:
INT. WALLACE'S HOUSE -
NIGHT
Wallace stands in the entryway
of his lavishly furnished home, Stevie adjusting the collar of his expensive
suit.
WALLACE
Do we have to go? I
can't remember the last time we spent a quiet evening at home.
STEVIE
There's a new sports bar
opening, and they've already paid you a lot of money to show up.
WALLACE
How about we stay home and
give them back the money.
(grabs her passionately)
Picture this - you, me,
candles, a steaming bathtub and a jar of mayonnaise.
Stevie laughs
condescendingly, patting Wallace on the cheek.
STEVIE
You're a funny guy,
Wallace. I'll get the car.
She gives Wallace a quick
kiss as he laughs along with her, slumping tiredly against the wall as she
leaves.
CUT TO:
EXT. RIVERFRONT STADIUM -
DAY
Wallace is on the mound,
runners on second and third. Harry Caray announcing.
HARRY CARAY (o.s.)
One more out and Wallace
Marsh will have thrown sixty consecutive scoreless innings, for a new
major-league record...
Wallace fires to the plate,
the batter meekly sticking out his bat and making contact. The ball is popped
to left field, where Ken lopes slowly after it, malicious grin on his face.
HARRY CARAY (o.s.)
A pop to left, Ken Davis
after it...
Ken pulls up, the ball
dropping three feet in front of him.
HARRY CARAY (cont. - o.s.)
Oooh! It drops in! Two
runs score. Cubs lose, and Wallace Marsh's chance for the record goes up in
smoke.
The crowd cheers as Wallace
watches from the mound, fuming.
INT. RIVERFRONT STADIUM -
CLUBHOUSE
The Cubs file into the
clubhouse, the Manager waiting for Ken - but Wallace gets to him first.
WALLACE
What the hell was that?
You can't field now, either?
KEN
Shut up. I couldn't get
to it, sue me.
WALLACE
You used to be my hero.
I respected you because you'd hit 30 home runs and bat .280 every year for a
losing team. But you don't care about the team, all you care about is the money
and the fame.
Ken's temper flares. He
grabs Wallace by the jersey.
KEN
You think you're better
than me? I've seen you - you spend all your time making commercials for things
you don't use and autographing baseballs for fifty bucks a pop. So don't pull
this high and mighty crap with me...
The Manager rushes forward,
stepping between the two men.
MANAGER
That's enough. I don't give a
crap who makes more shoe commercials or who donates more money to charity. All
I care about is who performs on the field.
(to Ken)
I have one strict rule -
you dog it, you sit. You're benched, Davis.
Ken stares at him, stunned.
KEN
Benched? I'm the team
captain!
MANAGER
Then you're gonna have
to captain sitting on your ass. That's final. Now hit the showers instead of
each other.
The Manager moves off, Ken
glaring at Wallace.
KEN
You don't like the way I
do things? Maybe you ought to look in a mirror.
Ken stalks away, leaving
Wallace at his locker. He sits, shaken. Looking up, he sees the heroic portrait
of himself that Billy painted hanging in his locker, staring at it
thoughtfully.
CUT TO:
EXT. LITTLE LEAGUE FIELD -
DAY
The Little Leaguers
celebrate a victory on the field, throwing their mitts and hats into the air.
Billy sits alone in the dugout, drawing on the wall - his sketch now an
elaborate mural. Kathy steps into the dugout, car keys in hand. She sighs,
concerned.
CUT TO:
INT. WALLACE'S HOUSE - DEN
- NIGHT
Stevie sits at a desk, doing
some paperwork as the phone rings. She answers, distracted.
STEVIE
Wallace Marsh
residence...
We INTERCUT with Kathy on
the other end of the phone. She sits at the kitchen table in her house.
KATHY
Hello. I'd like to speak
with Wallace... who is this?
STEVIE
(recognizing her voice)
I'm Mr. Marsh's business
manager. I'm sorry, but he's not in.
KATHY
I'd like to leave a
message for him. My name is Kathy Aaron. It's about my son, Billy. He has kind
of a special relationship with Wallace, and he's been very depressed lately...
Stevie sighs, rolling her
eyes impatiently.
STEVIE
I'm sorry, Mr. Marsh is
far too busy to make personal appearances for every young boy that idolizes
him. If he's depressed, may I suggest a shrink.
Stevie hangs up, shaking her
head.
STEVIE
Gotta get a new
number...
She stands, exiting the den.
INT. WALLACE'S HOUSE -
LIVING ROOM
Wallace sits slumped in an
easy chair, staring at the TV. Stevie steps up, massaging his shoulders as
onscreen Wallace pitches another product.
WALLACE (on TV)
... And if the little
bat turns blue, you're pregnant!
Wallace clicks off the TV, a
troubled look on his face.
WALLACE
Do you think I'm just
like Ken Davis?
STEVIE
No, of course not - your
house is much nicer than his. There's a new nightclub opening tonight. It might
be good for you to attend - free publicity.
WALLACE
(groans)
I'm a baseball player,
not a spokesmodel... Christ, I'm not even really a baseball player.
STEVIE
Well, we've got a few
free hours - what do you want to do?
Stevie leans forward,
nibbling his ear. Wallace grins, eyes twinkling.
WALLACE
I know just the thing!
CUT TO:
EXT. CARNIVAL - NIGHT
Wallace and Stevie walk down
the midway, each carrying an armful of stuffed animals. Wallace smiles, enjoying
himself, while Stevie is obviously bored.
STEVIE
Well, that was fun. Can
we go now?
WALLACE
We haven't been on any
rides yet. The 'Spine-Crusher', the 'Gut-Churner'...
Stevie looks at the cheap
rides skeptically.
STEVIE
The 'Bolt-Loosener'...
WALLACE
(nudges her happily)
Isn't this great?
Doesn't it remind you of your childhood?
STEVIE
Going around in circles
and feeling nauseous? No - it reminds me of my two marriages.
Suddenly a dart flies out of
nowhere, sticking one of Wallace's plush toys right between the eyes.
WALLACE
What the--
BILLY (o.s.)
Sorry, mister...
Wallace turns as Billy steps
up to retrieve the dart. Their eyes meet, surprise on their faces. Wallace is
thrilled to see his little friend again.
WALLACE
Billy!
Billy just stares back -
then punches Wallace in the crotch and runs off. Dropping the toys, he hunches
over in pain, looking up to see Billy standing with Kathy at the dart toss
booth. Frowning, Kathy steps forward.
KATHY
I'm sorry, Wallace. Are
you okay?
WALLACE
Nothing ten hours in a
fetal position won't cure.
KATHY
Good. See ya.
She turns to leave, Wallace
calling after her.
WALLACE
Hey, wait a minute!
What's the rush?
Kathy turns back angrily.
KATHY
Nothing. I just know
you're far too busy to make personal appearances for every young boy that
idolizes you.
WALLACE
Huh? What're you talking
about?
Stevie steps forward
impatiently.
STEVIE
Wallace, can we please
go now?
WALLACE
In a minute. Kathy
Aaron, this is Stevie White...
KATHY & STEVIE
(coldly)
We've met.
Wallace looks at the two
women knowingly.
WALLACE
I get it. Look, Kathy,
we haven't seen each other for four months. When you're around other people
attachments form...
Wallace glances up as Ed
Norman steps forward, putting his arm around Kathy. Kevin follows, looking as
bored as Stevie.
ED
Long time no see, Wallace.
(to Kathy)
Is everything okay?
KATHY
Fine. Why don't you take
the boys and get some hot dogs. I'll be right there.
Ed nods, herding Billy and
Kevin off down the midway. Billy looks back at Wallace sadly. Wallace laughs in
disbelief.
WALLACE
Ed Norman?
KATHY
(shrugs)
Hey, it's been months.
Attachments form.
WALLACE
Look, I didn't mean to
hurt you...
Kathy cuts him off.
KATHY
This doesn't have
anything to do with you and me, Wallace. Did you know that Billy's written to
you half a dozen times, and all he's gotten back are form letters and
autographed pictures.
Wallace frowns uncertainly.
WALLACE
I didn't know, I never--
KATHY
He's ten years old, Wallace.
He doesn't understand how someone could forget his friends so quickly.
(laughs sarcastically)
Maybe I should thank
you, you taught him a valuable lesson. I just wish he didn't have to learn it
so early.
Kathy turns and hurries down
the midway after Ed and the boys. Wallace watches her go, feeling like dirt.
Stevie steps up, now carrying all the stuffed animals.
STEVIE
Had enough fun yet?
CUT TO:
EXT. CARNIVAL PARKING LOT -
NIGHT
Wallace tries to jam the
stuffed animals into the Porsche's tiny storage compartment while Stevie sits
in the car.
WALLACE
I can't believe she's
seeing Ed Norman. All he wants is to get into her pants.
STEVIE
I don't think he'd look
very good in her pants.
WALLACE
I'm serious. He doesn't
care about her. And he'd only be interested in Billy if he aged ten years and
grew breasts.
Wallace tries to close the
hood on the stuffed animals by sitting on it.
STEVIE
What do you care? You
never even see these people any more. You've got a new life...
WALLACE
That's another thing! Ed
Norman's taken over my old life - managing the Little League team, dating Kathy
- and he's doing a better job of it than I did!
STEVIE
Know what I think? I
don't think you're pissed off at this Ed guy - you're mad because you still
care about her.
Wallace is finally able to
close the hood and latch it. He waves Stevie off dismissively.
WALLACE
That's ridiculous. We
only went out a couple times.
STEVIE
It doesn't matter.
WALLACE
If that's the case, why
am I with you?
STEVIE
Ask Ed Norman.
They stare at one another a
moment - before the hood pops open, stuffed toys flying out and burying
Wallace.
DISSOLVE TO:
EXT. LITTLE LEAGUE FIELD -
DAY
Wallace stands next to his
Porsche, which is parked on a hill overlooking the Little League field. Deep in
thought, he watches as the team run drills - Ed Norman standing at second,
padded like an attack dog trainer as the kids take turns sliding and spiking
him. Sighing nostalgically, Wallace climbs into the car, driving away.
CUT TO:
EXT. BASEBALL CARD SHOP -
DAY
Wallace pulls up and parks,
stunned to see that the card shop has changed. The sign over the door now
reads:
XXX HOT VIDEOS
and baseball cards
Jumping out of his car,
Wallace rushes into the store.
INT. BASEBALL CARD SHOP
Dazed, Wallace enters to
find the store completely redecorated - the windows painted black, magazine and
video racks lining the walls, private viewing booths in back. And worst of all,
business is booming. Clinton now stands behind the counter while everyone else
reads dirty magazines. Wallace storms to the front counter, where two men
haggle.
MAN IN BOOKSTORE
I'll trade you Nolan
Ryan and Jose Canseco for Misty Beethoven...
Wallace pushes through them
to confront Clinton, who is happy to see him.
WALLACE
What the hell is going
on here?
CLINTON
What do you think? Great,
huh?
(calls to customer)
Hey! You lick it you buy
it!
WALLACE
(sputtering)
What have you done? This
used to be a nice, wholesome store. A place where kids could come and hang out.
Clinton glances at his
watch.
CLINTON
Still is - junior high
doesn't let out for another half hour.
Wallace glares at Clinton
furiously.
WALLACE
Change it back. I want
everything back just like it was before.
Wallace stalks out, slamming
the door behind him.
CUT TO:
INT. WRIGLEY FIELD - DAY
Sport bag in hand, Wallace
walks down the tunnel to the clubhouse. He drags, depressed by the trip back to
his old neighborhood. Stevie waits by the clubhouse entrance, fixing him with
an angry stare.
STEVIE
Where the hell have you
been?
WALLACE
I'm having a bad day,
okay? I just found out I've gone from Little League coach to the porn king of
greater Chicago.
STEVIE
I've been worried. You
missed three commercial shoots today - jock itch spray, aspirin, and asthma
inhalers.
Wallace laughs humorlessly.
WALLACE
Sounds great. Do I
eventually get my own disease, like Lou Gehrig?
The clubhouse doors bang
open, the Manager storming out.
MANAGER
Where the hell have you
been?
WALLACE
(tiredly)
C'mon, Casey. Not today,
all right?
MANAGER
What do you mean 'not
today'? If we win today we clinch a tie for the division with the Mets, and you
stroll in here twenty minutes before game time?
Wallace sighs tiredly,
patting the Manager on the shoulder.
WALLACE
Look - talk to my agent...
(to Stevie)
... Talk with my
manager. I'll be asleep in the bullpen with the other pitchers.
Wallace trudges into the
locker room, Stevie and the Manager surprised by his change in attitude.
CUT TO:
EXT. WRIGLEY FIELD - NIGHT
In the booth, Harry Caray
calls the game tensely.
HARRY CARAY
Bottom of the ninth, one
out. The Cubs' four run lead is down to one. The Mets won earlier today, if the
Cubs can hold on they'll finish the season in a tie for first. But Wallace
Marsh is on the mound, and he's struggling. I've never seen him like this...
Wallace stands on the mound,
sweating heavily. He seems distracted, chewing his lip as Bip and the Manager
step up.
MANAGER
Sorry, Wallace - I'm
gonna have to pull you.
WALLACE
Come on, Casey. I can
get these guys. I'm just a little wild, that's all.
All three turn and look to
home, where a half dozen balls are lodged in the wire screen behind the plate.
Only a few brave fans remain in their seats.
MANAGER
We're only up by one,
Wallace. This game's too important. Besides, you're scaring the fans.
The Manager reaches out,
Wallace sighing as he hands him the ball. Bip smacks him on the ass as he trots
to the dugout, a smattering of applause from the fans.
INT. DUGOUT
Wallace tosses his mitt down
in disgust, taking a seat on the bench. Ken sits a few feet away, barely able
to keep a gloating smile off his face.
KEN
Gee, that's too bad,
Wallace. But don't worry, it's not so bad here on the bench. You get to relax,
enjoy the night air, drink Gatorade - and, oh yeah, there's all the shit you
can eat.
Ken laughs as Wallace slumps
forward, trying to ignore him.
CUT TO:
INT. CUBS' LOCKER ROOM -
NIGHT
The locker room is a
madhouse, Cubs players hollering and spraying themselves with champagne.
Reporters crowd in, cameras covered in plastic to keep them dry. A LOCAL
REPORTER yells over the din of the celebration.
LOCAL REPORTER
Here on the final day of
the season, the Chicago Cubs, picked to finish last at the start of this
campaign, have won, clinching a tie for first place with the New York Mets.
Their win tonight forces a one-game playoff, to be played here Saturday
afternoon.
The Local Reporter dodges a
spray of foam, glancing around for someone to interview. He spots Wallace,
sitting alone in front of his locker.
LOCAL REPORTER (cont.)
Let's see if I can get a
word with Wallace Marsh, the amazing relief pitcher who came out of nowhere to
inspire this team to greatness. Wallace, you started the season as a Little
League coach, and you're ending it in a playoff for the National League East
title. How do you feel?
He shoves the microphone
into Wallace's face. Wallace looks at him blankly, speaking softly.
WALLACE
I live alone. I don't
have any real friends. My entire life is a fluke. How do you think I feel?
The Local Reporter just
stares at Wallace, mouth open, completely stumped. He turns back to the camera
as he hurries away from Wallace.
LOCAL REPORTER
A sober, introspective
moment with Wallace Marsh. Speaking of friendless, let's try and get a word
with Ken Davis...
DISSOLVE TO:
EXT. WRIGLEY FIELD - NIGHT
After the game, Wallace
steps out of the dugout, wistfully surveying the playing field. Sighing, he
looks into the empty stands, surprised to see Bip sitting all alone.
WALLACE
What are you doing here
- searching for some of the balls I lost?
Bip smiles, caught.
BIP
Naw, I just like to sit
here sometimes. See the field in the moonlight, the smell of beer and peanuts
still in the air. Kind of reminds me how much I love the game. And when you're
hitting .239 you need a lot of reminding.
Wallace climbs up into the
bleachers, sitting beside Bip.
WALLACE
That's something you
always forget - fail 7 times out of 10 and you're an All-Star. Fail 8 times out
of 10 and you're a bum.
BIP
That's why you have to
love it. The odds are always in someone else's favor. The whole season is based
on luck and little miracles. It's a game for dreamers.
Wallace frowns, confused.
This is tough for him to say.
WALLACE
That's what I can't
understand. Making it to the big leagues, pitching for the Cubs - it's always
been my dream, ever since I was a kid. And now that I'm here I'm miserable. I
feel like I'm missing something, like I should be enjoying myself more. But
lately all I can think about is going back to my old life.
(looks to Bip sheepishly)
Am I a jerk?
BIP
No. You're a jerk when
you leave your wet towels all over the bathroom floor. You're not a jerk for
being unhappy.
Wallace leans back, relieved
to be able to talk to someone.
WALLACE
When I was a kid, I
never imagined all this other stuff - shooting commercials, other players
hating me, never having any time to myself. It's not like I thought it would
be.
BIP
You're not a kid now.
Maybe it's not your dream anymore.
Wallace nods thoughtfully.
WALLACE
What's your dream, Bip?
BIP
That I could break .240.
They both laugh, the sound
echoing through the empty stadium as we...
DISSOLVE TO:
EXT. LITTLE LEAGUE FIELD -
DAY
The kids are lined up in the
outfield, running sprints - finishing each with a slide, spikes in the air. Ed
Norman blows a whistle to stop the boys, clapping and yelling.
ED
C'mon, girls - you can
run faster than that. Five more, and let's see some aggressive sliding!
The kids groan, lining up
across the field from Ed. He blows the whistle, the team running toward him.
But as he blows, the whistle shoots out of his mouth. Kneeling, Ed can't find
it in the unmown grass. Hearing a rumbling sound, he looks up to see the kids
charging at him.
ED
No... wait... halt...
He searches frantically for
the whistle, glancing up as the kids slide - a dozen pairs of cleats headed
right at him.
CUT TO:
EXT. LITTLE LEAGUE FIELD -
PARKING LOT - DAY
Paramedics load a moaning Ed
into the back of an ambulance. They close the doors and drive away as the
fathers watch, concerned. The kids goof around in the background, playing
keep-away with Billy's cap.
FATHER #1
Multiple lacerations,
abrasions and contusions. What does that mean?
FATHERS #2 & 3
No coach.
FATHER #1
So what do we do? We've
got the championship game tomorrow.
Father #2 speaks nobly.
FATHER #2
If they forfeit now,
they'll be laughing stocks. It's terrible to be constantly harassed and called
a loser by people on the other teams.
FATHER #3
Yeah, kids can be
cruel...
FATHER #2
What kids? I'm talking
about my co-workers. All their kids are on championship teams.
FATHER #1
What if one of us
coaches?
Father #3 shakes his head
grimly.
FATHER #3
Can't. League rules -
the team's gotta use the coaches registered on the regular season roster.
FATHER #2
(thinking)
That'd be Ed and...
The fathers look to one
another, frowning.
CUT TO:
INT. TV STUDIO - DAY
A commercial shoot is in
progress. A line of girls in skimpy bathing suits dance around Wallace, who
wears a tuxedo and holds a bottle of beer.
WALLACE
Blatz Light - one-sixth
the calories, so you can drink six times as much!
PULL BACK to see the fathers
standing behind the crew, mouths agape as they watch the dancers' jiggling
breasts.
FATHER #2
Amazing. Do you think
they're real?
FATHER #1
Who cares? I want my TV
chair upholstered with that stuff...
The Director calls out.
DIRECTOR
Cut! Stop the music,
stop the boobs. We'll try it again in two minutes.
Everyone scatters to do
their jobs as Wallace steps off the set. He approaches the fathers, who wave
happily.
FATHER #2
Hi, Wallace! Thanks for
seeing us.
(nods to dancers)
This makes the bleachers
look like a dog pound.
WALLACE
I was surprised you
called. What's up?
The fathers look to one
another, unsure how to start.
FATHER #1
You see, Wallace, Ed had
a tiny accident at practice today - nothing serious - and we need someone to
coach the team in the championship game tomorrow.
Wallace smiles, speaking
quickly.
WALLACE
Really? I'll be there.
Standing to one side, Stevie
has heard everything. She steps forward sternly.
STEVIE
Oh no you won't. You're
playing for the National League east title tomorrow. No Little League game is
that important.
Wallace turns to Stevie,
speaking through clenched teeth.
WALLACE
I can run my own life,
Stevie.
STEVIE
No you can't - that's my job.
(to fathers)
Goodbye, gentlemen.
Stevie steers Wallace back
to the set. She straightens his hair, concerned.
STEVIE
What's going on,
Wallace? I don't understand you lately.
WALLACE
Join the club.
CUT TO:
EXT. BILLY'S HOUSE - NIGHT
Wallace steps onto the
porch, nervously knocking on the door. He looks more like the old Wallace - no
expensive shoes or suit. Billy answers the door, Wallace instinctively covering
his crotch with his hand.
WALLACE
Hi, Billy! It's me.
No response. Billy just
stares at him blankly.
WALLACE (cont.)
Uh, is your mom home?
BILLY
I'll check.
Billy slams the door in
Wallace's face. He stands there uncomfortably, wondering if maybe this isn't a
mistake. He turns as the door opens, Kathy now staring at him emotionlessly.
WALLACE
Hi! It's me.
No response. Wallace drops
the cheerful facade.
WALLACE
Why is it that you're
not talking, but I still feel like we're arguing?
KATHY
What do you want,
Wallace?
WALLACE
I wouldn't mind coming
in - it's getting kind of chilly out here.
She steps aside, motioning
him in.
WALLACE
(muttering)
But not as chilly as in
here, I bet.
INT. BILLY'S HOUSE - LIVING
ROOM
Kathy leads Wallace into the
living room, where Billy plays video games on the TV. Wallace stands over him,
watching.
WALLACE
Hey, you're pretty good
at this. These games take hand-eye coordination - if we could just get a bat in
your hand...
Without a word, Billy puts
down the joystick, stands, and leaves the room. Wallace sighs, looking to
Kathy.
WALLACE
I came to apologize.
KATHY
About what? Your dream
came true. We're very happy for you.
WALLACE
I can tell... Look, I
only thought my dream came true. My whole life all I ever wanted was to
be a baseball player, but I was always too small or too weak or too dorky. Then
suddenly this miracle happens, and I'm thirty-five years old and pitching for
the Cubs. It's like everything was handed to me on a silver platter, and I went
a little nuts.
Wallace and Kathy turn as
Billy carries an armload of Wallace Marsh paraphernalia from his room. He
tosses it in the fireplace before leaving again. Frowning, Wallace continues.
WALLACE
I had money, I had fame,
I had a nice house - but a miracle isn't anything if there's no one to share it
with.
KATHY
What about Stevie?
WALLACE
(sighs)
Stevie. Stevie's like
the fancy suits and the car. It's like someone turned me loose in a big
department store and told me I could have whatever I wanted.
KATHY
And what are we - Pic N'
Save? You completely forgot about us, Wallace. You were Billy's best friend and
all he got from you was form letters. And it's not like you just disappeared -
you're on TV every day, getting more and more successful and more and more
distant.
Billy re-enters with a can
of lighter fluid, spraying the souvenirs in the fireplace before leaving once
more. Wallace sits next to Kathy, taking her hand.
WALLACE
I swear, I never knew
about Billy's letters...
She starts to talk, Wallace
raising his hand to stop her.
WALLACE (cont.)
... And I know that's no
excuse for ignoring him. What I'm saying is things got out of my control. I
wasn't running my own life, or making my own choices. But I'm going to change
that. And the first thing I want to do is take you guys out for that dinner I
owe you.
Kathy thinks a moment,
smiling gently.
KATHY
Maybe we can go to Pic
N' Save afterward. See if we can buy the old Wallace back.
WALLACE
I think there's one
left.
Grinning, Wallace leans
forward, giving Kathy a kiss. He eyes her playfully.
WALLACE
I'm sorry, I've got to
ask - what's with you and Ed Norman?
KATHY
Nothing. Ed called and
asked if we wanted to go to the carnival, and Billy'd been so depressed I figured
'why not'? He tried to romance me into bed by reciting 'Casey at the Bat'.
WALLACE
You're joking. What
happened?
Kathy pats him on the
shoulder, laughing.
KATHY
Relax - there was no joy
in Mudville.
They both look up as Billy
steps to the fireplace once more, striking a match and lighting the Wallace
Marsh merchandise with a WHOOSH. Wallace looks to Kathy grimly.
WALLACE
This is going to be
harder than I thought...
DISSOLVE TO:
EXT. LITTLE LEAGUE FIELD -
DAY
The Little Leaguers are in
position for fielding drills, watching as Ed Norman makes his way to the plate.
Heavily bandaged, Ed is barely able to move. He staggers forward, the other
fathers trailing him.
FATHER #2
Are you sure you can do
this, Ed?
FATHER #1
If you're in any
discomfort...
Ed speaks deliberately,
obviously in pain.
ED
I'm fine. Never felt
better.
Reaching home plate, the
catcher hands Ed a bat and ball. He calls to the boys through gritted teeth.
ED
Okay, bring it home.
Ed tosses the ball into the
air weakly, hitting with great discomfort. The Third Baseman fields the
dribbler, gunning it home... the throw hitting Ed in the chest. Heavily
sedated, Ed can only whimper.
EXT. LITTLE LEAGUE PARKING
LOT
Wallace, Kathy and Billy
pull up in Wallace's old car. Giving Billy a friendly nudge, Wallace grins.
WALLACE
Ready to kick some butt,
Billy?
Billy ignores him, Wallace
sighing.
WALLACE
You know, you're going
to have to talk to me sooner or later.
BILLY
Bite me.
He scrambles out of the car,
Wallace looking to Kathy.
WALLACE
It's a start.
EXT. LITTLE LEAGUE FIELD
The fathers stand over Ed,
who lays flat on his back on home plate, eyes rolling back in his head.
FATHER #2
Really, Ed, if you're
not up to it...
The Second Baseman looks up
to see Wallace, Billy and Kathy step onto the field.
SECOND BASEMAN
Look! It's Wallace!
Ed is immediately forgotten,
trampled in the stampede as everyone rushes to greet Wallace.
FATHER #1
I can't believe it - you
made it!
FATHER #3
We're saved!
Wallace drops the equipment
bag, speaking to the kids purposefully.
WALLACE
Okay guys, we're here to
win a ballgame - but we're gonna win it fairly. I don't want to see any
spiking, beaning, bat-corking, or cheating of any kind.
The kids all nod, the
fathers looking to one another worriedly.
FATHERS
We're doomed.
CUT TO:
EXT. WRIGLEY FIELD - DAY
The Cubs are warming up for
their game as well. The mood is tense, as the stakes are high. Bip and Ken
stand next to the batting cage as the Manager steps up, glancing around worriedly.
MANAGER
Where the hell is Marsh?
I warned him about being late the other day.
BIP
Don't worry, he'll show...
(to himself)
... I hope.
MANAGER
Yeah, he wouldn't miss this
game...
(to himself)
... I hope.
KEN
He'd have to be bleeding to
death in a car wreck...
(to himself)
... I hope.
CUT TO:
INT. LITTLE LEAGUE FIELD -
DUGOUT - DAY
The kids prepare for their
first at bats, the game beginning. Wallace walks down the bench, clapping his
hands and calling to the boys.
WALLACE
Okay, let's start it up
with a big inning here, guys.
Billy sits in his place at
the far end of the dugout, where his mural on the wall has become an elaborate
work of art. Wallace steps up while Billy continues to draw.
WALLACE
Wow, that's an impressive
piece of work, Billy. A real epic... Who's the guy in the Cubs hat hanging from
a streetlight?
(realizing)
On second thought, don't
tell me...
CUT TO:
EXT. WRIGLEY FIELD - DAY
Stevie sits in a seat behind
the dugout, the Manager rushing up in a panic.
MANAGER
Where's your superstar?
He's late again!
STEVIE
(surprised)
Are you sure? He's
probably around someplace...
MANAGER
If he isn't here in five
minutes he's benched!
The Manager starts to walk
away, only to be stopped by a Coach.
COACH
We've got another
problem, Casey. Adams is out, he's got the flu.
MANAGER
This is all I need.
There's no chance he can play?
COACH
Only if you install a
toilet in left field.
Cursing under his breath,
the Manager scans the field. Spotting Ken Davis, he calls to him.
MANAGER
Davis! Get over here.
Ken trots up curiously.
MANAGER
Adams is sick, so you're
starting.
KEN
Great, Casey. I'll--
MANAGER
(cuts him off)
This game's too
important for you to screw it up. If I don't see maximum effort out there
you're gonna spend next season in the minors. Got that?
Ken nods, the Manager
glancing at his watch before turning back to Stevie.
MANAGER
Four minutes or he's
benched!
He stalks off, Stevie
ignoring Ken's smug grin as she hurries up the aisle.
CUT TO:
EXT. LITTLE LEAGUE FIELD -
BLEACHERS - DAY
Ed sits next to Kathy, who
tries to listen to the Cubs game on a portable radio while he rambles on
deliriously.
HARRY CARAY (on radio)
ED
News out of the Cubs' ... I
was so proud of
locker room is that Wallace Kevin in the emergency
Marsh has not reported for room. He even helped the
pre-game warm-ups yet today. nurse hook up his old
With the game starting in man's I.V. - of course
twenty minutes, management he got the glucose pouch
is understandably worried. mixed up with a colostomy
bag, but still...
EXT. LITTLE LEAGUE FIELD
The scoreboard shows a 12 -
12 tie going into the seventh inning. Wallace paces, checking his watch
nervously.
WALLACE
Okay guys - three up,
three down!
KEVIN
Coach, we're up.
Wallace glances into the
parking lot as Stevie pulls up. She hurries toward the field, looking none too
pleased.
WALLACE
Okay, home run, then
three up, three down. It's getting late...
Stevie storms into the
dugout, confronting Wallace angrily. The kids on the bench watch - Billy
particularly intrigued.
STEVIE
What the hell do you
think you're doing - other than ruining both our careers?
WALLACE
These kids need me. I
don't think I'm cut out for the big leagues...
By now the parents in the
bleachers are no longer interested in the game, but the argument in the dugout.
Kathy watches with interest as Stevie scoffs cynically.
STEVIE
Right. Now you're going
to tell me you prefer the quiet, simple life to being rich and famous.
Wallace shrugs helplessly.
WALLACE
I guess my dream
changed.
STEVIE
Brilliant. Let me clue
you in on a little secret - any schmuck can have a nagging wife and snot-nosed
kids, but only a handful of people get the kind of fame and wealth you've been
given.
A moment of silence. They
just stare at one another. As do all the kids in the dugout, the parents in the
stands, and the players on the field, the game having stopped dead.
STEVIE
So? You coming to the
game, or what?
WALLACE
I can't. If I leave now
the team forfeits.
STEVIE
If you don't show up at
the game, I never want to see you again.
Wallace frowns, nodding.
WALLACE
Maybe that's best. I
wanted to talk to you...
Stevie calmly picks up a
bat, eyeing it thoughtfully.
STEVIE
Uh-huh. Wallace, did you
remember to wear your cup?
CLOSE ON the parents in the
bleachers wincing as we hear a thud, followed by a scream. Back in the dugout,
Stevie drops the bat, a satisfied smile on her face, while Wallace stands
hunched over.
WALLACE
(gasps for breath)
Jeez, enough with the
testicles already! What was that for? Just because we're breaking up?
STEVIE
Are you kidding? We were
a lousy couple. I'm pissed about all the endorsement money I'll be losing.
Stevie strides out of the
dugout, past the fathers, who cover their crotches. Wallace looks up to see
that the game has stopped, everyone watching him.
WALLACE
What? Did we win?
He glances into the stands,
giving Kathy an embarrassed look. She smiles back sympathetically. Even Billy
looks at him with a new respect.
CUT TO:
EXT. WRIGLEY FIELD - DAY
Players line up on the foul
lines for the introductions. As their names are called they step forward,
acknowledging the fan reaction. The Manager fumes as Wallace's name is
announced - the fans' applause turning to puzzled silence when they see he is
not there. Ken grins happily, the Manager muttering under his breath.
MANAGER
Marsh is benched.
Benchedbenchedbenched.
CUT TO:
INT. LITTLE LEAGUE FIELD -
DUGOUT - DAY
The scoreboard shows the
game still tied 12 - 12 in the 13th inning. Wallace paces anxiously, calling
out to the boys.
WALLACE
Let's go, guys - a
little hustle!
Kathy sticks her head into
the dugout, portable radio in hand.
KATHY
Fifth inning, Cubs down
by two.
HARRY CARAY (on radio)
... A sharp single to
left... Ken Davis charging - it's through his legs! Fernandez scores from
second. That looked like a bad hop...
KATHY
Cubs down by three...
Wallace turns back to the
field, clapping his hands and calling out urgently.
WALLACE
A lot of hustle!
Big steaming gobs of hustle!
CUT TO:
INT. WRIGLEY FIELD - DUGOUT
- DAY
Inning over, the Cubs'
fielders jog back into the dugout, the Manager waiting angrily for Ken.
MANAGER
That ball went right through
your legs! I should've known better than to put this team's fate in your empty
mitt...
(turns)
Griffin - grab a bat,
you're in for Davis.
KEN
It was a bad hop, Casey. I
swear. The outfield's all chewed up.
(seriously)
Don't do this to me
again. Please.
The Manager looks hard at
Ken, controlling his temper.
MANAGER
Griffin - sit down.
Davis, get out there, you're up.
Relieved, Ken grabs a helmet
and bat, hurrying onto the field. Bip steps up to the Manager curiously.
BIP
Any sign of Wallace yet?
Now the Manager
explodes.
MANAGER
I don't care about
Marsh! Quit asking about Marsh! He is benched - permanently! Even when we're
not playing, he eats and sleeps on this bench!
CUT TO:
EXT. LITTLE LEAGUE FIELD -
DAY
The scoreboard now shows the
game in the 17th inning, the Screaming Weasels up 17 - 14. Kevin Norman is on
the mound, looking pretty spent. Wallace yells encouragement.
WALLACE
Okay, Kev-boy! One more
out and we're the champs! You can do it...
Kevin uncorks a floater,
which the batter cracks into left for a clean single, scoring two runners. The
scoreboard changes to 17 - 16. Wallace shakes his head unhappily.
WALLACE
Kevin's exhausted. I'm
gonna have to make a change.
He signals to the umpire for
time-out, stepping into the dugout.
INT. DUGOUT
Wallace approaches Billy,
who stands on the bench as he draws on the ceiling.
WALLACE
Hey, Michelangelo - I
need you to go into right field.
Billy continues to draw,
ignoring him. Wallace sighs in exasperation.
WALLACE
I don't care whether
you're talking to me or not, I need you to play. I'm bringing Tommy in to
pitch, and I need you in right.
BILLY
Why? Are you trying to
make sure we lose?
Wallace is relieved - at least
he's got him talking.
WALLACE
Look, Billy - you're mad
at me because I let you down. Well you made a commitment to this team, and now
they need you. You can't let them down.
BILLY
If the ball is hit to
me, I will let them down.
WALLACE
Nobody can fault you if
you try, Billy. It's the effort, not the outcome. It's not whether you win or
lose, but how you play the game. I can't think of any more cliches, so get out
there.
He hands Billy his glove,
guiding him out of the dugout.
WALLACE
Besides, nobody ever
hits it to right.
BILLY
Can I get that in
writing?
EXT. BLEACHERS
The parents watch as Wallace
jogs to the mound to make the change. He motions the right fielder in as he
takes the ball from a disappointed Kevin. Father #1 points excitedly.
FATHER #1
Tommy's pitching!
They all cheer, encouraged.
Kathy points happily to Billy, who trudges out to right field.
KATHY
Billy's in right field!
The other parents all groan.
Kathy sits tensely next to Ed, who is unaware of anything around him. Two
little kids sit behind him, tossing wet candies onto his head and back.
EXT. LITTLE LEAGUE FIELD
Finishing his warm-ups,
Tommy faces the first batter. He delivers, the batter smacking a long fly to
right. Billy sees the ball coming, a look of terror on his face.
BILLY
Wallace, you lying
bastard...
Billy heads back, the ball
carrying. He reaches the warning track, bumping into the fence.
EXT. VARIOUS SHOTS
as the spectators react: The
parents in the bleachers stand as one... Kathy clenches her fists hopefully...
Wallace walks onto the field, watching the arc of the ball... Kevin sits in the
dugout, shaking his head sadly... Ed stares into the middle distance, making
odd gurgling noises.
EXT. BILLY
blindly sticks up his mitt
as the ball descends. He closes his eyes, the ball smacking into his glove -
and popping out. Billy opens his eyes as the ball squirts away. Diving for it,
he catches it with his bare hand just before it hits the grass.
EXT. LITTLE LEAGUE FIELD
Wallace, the kids and the
parents all cheer wildly, rushing onto the field to mob Billy - who lays on the
grass, staring at the ball in his hand in disbelief. Wallace reaches him first,
lifting Billy onto his shoulders in triumph.
BILLY
I did it, Wallace! I
didn't screw up!
Billy bobbles the ball,
dropping in on top of Wallace's head. Kathy races up, hugging them both.
KATHY
Billy, I'm so proud of
you!
WALLACE
(rubbing head)
How did Ed survive as
long as he did with these kids?
Kathy looks to Wallace
seriously, holding up her radio.
KATHY
The Cubs are down by one
in the seventh inning. They're using every pitcher they have - they need you,
Wallace.
Wallace scowls, shaking his
head.
WALLACE
I don't want to play for
money any more. This is what baseball's about - playing for the love of
it.
Still perched on his
shoulder, Billy leans forward, looking down at Wallace.
BILLY
Your team needs you,
Wallace. You made a commitment to them and you can't let them down. Sound
familiar?
Wallace looks up at Billy,
frowning.
WALLACE
If I'd known you were
going to use the things I said against me, I'd have kept my mouth shut.
CUT TO:
EXT. WRIGLEY FIELD - DAY
It's late in the game, the
Cubs down by one. Bip steps to the plate with a runner on first.
HARRY CARAY
... Bip Anderson steps
in, batting .239. It's been a tough year at the plate for Bip - frankly I'm
surprised they're not bringing in a pinch hitter...
Taking a deep breath, Bip
digs in. The pitcher delivers, Bip connecting solidly - a huge grin spreading
over his face as the ball rockets over the left field fence and onto Waveland
Avenue. The fans go wild as Bip trots around the bases.
HARRY CARAY
Deep fly to left! It
might be... it could be... it is! Home run! Cubs lead! Cubs lead! And Bip
Anderson finally breaks .240!
Bip returns to the dugout,
where he is mobbed by his teammates.
CUT TO:
INT. WRIGLEY FIELD - TUNNEL
- DAY
Wallace, Kathy and Billy run
down the tunnel to the clubhouse. They stop at the locker room door, Wallace
turning to Kathy and Billy nervously.
WALLACE
This is it. I can't tell
if I'm nervous, or my stomach still hurts from getting hit in the crotch.
KATHY
You know you can do it.
We'll be right here watching you.
WALLACE
You and forty million
people on TV. I don't think I can picture that many people in their underwear.
Billy pats Wallace on the
shoulder reassuringly.
BILLY
If I can catch that
ball, you can pitch.
WALLACE
Right. Either that or
we've used up our share of miracles for one day.
CUT TO:
INT. WRIGLEY FIELD - DAY
It's the top of the ninth,
two down. The Cubs are still up by one, but the pitcher on the mound is running
out of gas. He delivers a pitch for ball four, the batter trotting to first.
The Manager and coaches watch, concerned.
COACH
He's running on fumes
out there.
MANAGER
What am I supposed to
do? I've used everyone, there's no one left. I swear, if I ever see Marsh
again...
Just then Wallace steps into
the dugout, in uniform.
WALLACE
Somebody mention my
name?
The Manager and coaches
turn, stunned.
MANAGER
Marsh - you're benched!
Now get in there and pitch!
The Manager grabs Wallace by
the arm, nearly dragging him onto the field. The fans begin to cheer when they
see him, the other players watching with surprise. Ken frowns angrily, walking
in from his position in left field.
HARRY CARAY
The roar you hear is for
Wallace Marsh, who is now making his way to the mound. If anyone can nail down
a victory he can. Listen to the chant - 'Wallace! Wallace!'.
CROWD
Butthead! Butthead!
EXT. PITCHERS MOUND
Reaching the mound, the
Manager takes the ball from the pitcher, who heads for the dugout. Bip steps
up, greeting Wallace with a teasing grin.
BIP
Long time no see.
The Manager cuts in tensely,
handing Wallace the ball.
MANAGER
It's up to you, Wallace.
I've used everyone else - you're the last pitcher we've got.
BIP
No sweat. We only need
one out. Right, Wallace?
Wallace smiles, trying to
hide his nervousness.
WALLACE
Right.
They all look up as Ken
approaches furiously.
KEN
What's this asshole
doing in the game? I thought he was benched. He doesn't even bother to show up
for eight innings and you put him right in?
Wallace turns on Ken,
nudging him in the chest with his mitt as he talks.
WALLACE
You haven't shown up
since April! All you've been doing is sulking and dogging it like a spoiled
brat throwing a tantrum.
(quietly)
What the hell happened
to you, Ken? What happened to that Little Leaguer that used to play ball for
the love of it?
INT. BROADCAST BOOTH
Harry Caray watches the
commotion on the mound through binoculars.
HARRY CARAY
Ken Davis is on the
mound now... looks like he and Wallace Marsh are... uh... discussing
strategy...
EXT. PITCHERS MOUND
The Manager and Bip step
between the two men.
MANAGER
All right, that's
enough. Davis, get back to your position. We've still got a game to win here.
Ken reluctantly heads back
out to left, the Manager shaking his head in disgust as he trots back to the
dugout. Bip and Wallace are alone on the mound.
WALLACE
Heard your home run on
the radio. You're over .240 now.
BIP
Yeah. Let's not waste my
shining moment.
Bip heads back behind the
plate, the crowd cheering expectantly.
EXT. BLEACHERS
Kathy and Billy step up,
standing at the top of an aisle. They watch anxiously as Wallace takes his
warm-ups.
KATHY
You can do it, Wallace.
BILLY
(shouting)
Go get 'em, butthead!
EXT. WRIGLEY FIELD
Wallace finishes his
warm-ups, the batter stepping into the box. Looking around at the crowd,
Wallace takes a deep breath to calm himself before going into his wind-up. He
delivers - the batter meekly sticking out his bat and making contact. The ball
rifles back at Wallace, who can't get out of the way as it nails him in the
right shoulder. The ball caroms into right field for a single, the runner on
first advancing to third.
EXT. BLEACHERS
The fans gasp, Kathy and
Billy wincing when they see Wallace hit the ground.
EXT. PITCHERS MOUND
Wallace sits on the mound,
gritting his teeth in pain.
WALLACE
What is this,
beat-on-Wallace day?
The infielders race to the
mound, Bip and the Manager coming to his aid.
BIP
Jeez, what a shot! Are
you okay?
WALLACE
I don't know. That
really tagged me. My arm feels weak and numb - just like it used to.
MANAGER
Say you're okay,
Wallace. You've got to be okay. If you're not okay we're gonna have to bring
the mascot in to pitch.
Wallace stands shakily,
rubbing his shoulder and rotating his arm.
WALLACE
I'm fine - scared me
more than anything.
Everyone lets out a relieved
sigh.
EXT. BLEACHERS
The fans cheer as Wallace
waves to them that he's okay. Kathy and Billy applaud, joining in as the chant
begins anew.
FANS
Butthead! Butthead!
EXT. PITCHERS MOUND
The Manager leaves, the
other players returning to their positions. Bip starts to go, Wallace stopping
him.
WALLACE
We may have a problem
here. I think my shoulder's screwed up.
BIP
What do you want to do?
WALLACE
What can I do?
I've got to pitch.
BIP
Look, we only need one
out - here's what we do...
INT. BROADCAST BOOTH
Harry Caray calls the game.
HARRY CARAY
This is it - the whole
season rides on this batter. Two outs, top of the ninth, Mets on first and
third. Holy cow!
EXT. WRIGLEY FIELD
Bip takes his place behind
the plate as the next batter steps in. Bip grins, eyeing the batter.
BIP
Man, did you see that
thing take off? And that guy barely swung. Can you imagine how far it'd go if
it beaned someone in the helmet?
The batter sneers.
N.Y. BATTER
Yeah? When I hit it it's
gonna end up in Lake Michigan.
Bip laughs, nodding to
Wallace on the mound. Wallace winds up, muttering to himself.
WALLACE
Please God - don't let
it hit me in the face...
Wallace closes his eyes and
throws. He lets loose a 40 m.p.h. floater, but the batter is so keyed for a 125
m.p.h. fastball that he is way out in front. Swing and a miss. Wallace opens
his eyes, surprised.
M.L. UMPIRE
Strike one!
Bip chuckles, tossing the
ball back to Wallace as the batter pounds the dirt with his bat. The crowd
cheers.
N.Y. BATTER
What kind of cheap pitch
was that? Is he afraid to throw me his fastball?
BIP
Why should he be afraid?
You couldn't even hit one moving that slow.
EXT. BLEACHERS
Kathy and Billy exchange
puzzled looks.
KATHY
What was that?
BILLY
It looked like his old
throw-like-a-girl pitch.
INT. BROADCAST BOOTH
Harry Caray is equally
confused.
HARRY CARAY
Apparently Wallace Marsh
has been working on a changeup... either that or he's wearing his glove on the
wrong hand...
EXT. WRIGLEY FIELD
Bip squats, the batter digs
in, and Wallace winds up and delivers - another 40 m.p.h. creampuff. The batter
grins hungrily and swings, cranking it a good 450 feet... foul. Still out in
front. The crowd cheers, but a bit uneasily, as the batter kicks at the dirt,
frustrated.
N.Y. BATTER
Damn! Just throw me one
more like that!
BIP
So you can hit foul
balls all night? Forget that - our champagne's getting warm in the locker
room...
Bip laughs derisively as he
tosses a new ball back to Wallace. Realizing this may be the last time he's
ever on a major league mound, Wallace looks around - at the screaming fans, his
teammates in the field, and in the dugout.
WALLACE
Okay, calm down. What's the
worst thing that could happen? He drills it, they win, we lose, I'm hated and
despised by everyone in Chicago for the rest of my life. What's the best thing?
(thinks)
It hits me in the head,
they win, we lose, I die and don't have to hear the terrible things said about
me.
Resigned, Wallace winds up
once more, checks the runners, and with a nervous sigh releases the ball. It
floats lazily toward the plate... where the batter times it perfectly, crushing
a shot down the left field line. Wallace turns to watch the flight of the ball.
INT. DUGOUT
The Manager watches the ball
arc into the air, groaning when he realizes who it's hit to.
MANAGER
Oh no - Davis...
EXT. KEN
lopes nonchalantly after the
ball. Suddenly a look of determination crosses his face. He begins to trot
harder... then runs... faster... and faster - finally taking a diving leap,
slamming into the wall face first and tumbling to the ground... the ball in his
mitt.
EXT. WRIGLEY FIELD
Wallace and the other
players jump for joy, rushing to where Ken lays in the outfield.
EXT. BLEACHERS
Kathy and Billy hug each
other as the crowd goes wild.
INT. BROADCAST BOOTH
Harry Caray screams into the
microphone.
HARRY CARAY
Cubs win! Cubs win!
Division champs! Division champs! Postseason broadcast pay! Postseason
broadcast pay!
EXT. WRIGLEY FIELD
Wallace rushes to Ken as the
left fielder staggers to his feet. Ken flashes Wallace a sheepish grin.
KEN
I was a rotten player in
Little League.
Wallace laughs as Ken is
lifted onto the other players' shoulders. Ken tosses him the game ball as he is
carried off. Wallace looks around him, soaking it all in. He smiles happily...
the smile fading when Stevie rushes up, camera crew at her side. She calls to
Wallace over the din.
STEVIE
Wallace! I just landed us the
mother of all commercials! Are you ready? Roll it!
(into microphone)
Wallace Marsh! You and
the Cubs just won the division championship - what are you gonna do now?
Looking into the stands,
Wallace sees Kathy and Billy standing at the railing, waving to him proudly. He
smiles gently as Stevie thrusts the microphone in his face.
WALLACE
I'm going home with my
friends.
He tosses Stevie the game
ball as he hurries off, leaving she and the camera crew abandoned. Glancing
around desperately, Stevie rushes over to Ken.
STEVIE
Ken Davis - you and the
Cubs just won a division championship...
Wallace steps to the railing,
where Kathy and Billy wait for him. He helps them onto the field, where the
three of them embrace happily.
DISSOLVE TO:
EXT. BASEBALL CARD SHOP -
DAY
The sign out front reads
'BASEBALL CARDS AND STUFF' again. A banner announcing the 'GRAND RE-OPENING'
hangs over the door. SUPERIMPOSE TITLE:
SIX MONTHS LATER
INT. BASEBALL CARD SHOP
Billy paints a mural on the
back wall, depicting the Cubs in action - with Wallace prominently featured on
the mound. Wallace, Kathy and Clinton restock the shelves with baseball
paraphernalia. The TV is on, the Cubs playing their season opener... but
Wallace barely seems to notice.
WALLACE
How's the mural coming,
Billy? We open in three days.
BILLY
I ran out of paint
filling in Ken Davis' butt.
KATHY
(smirks)
We'll buy you another
five gallons.
Wallace and Kathy laugh
while Clinton opens a shipping crate.
CLINTON
I ordered some new
videos for the store.
WALLACE
(suspiciously)
I hope they're all baseball
related.
CLINTON
Sure they are - they all
have baseball themes...
He holds up three video
boxes featuring scantily clad couples.
CLINTON (cont.)
'The Unnatural'... 'Hung
Like a Bull Durham'... and 'Field of Reams'...
Wallace snatches the videos
from Clinton's hand.
WALLACE
Throw 'em out...
He notices Billy watching
with interest.
WALLACE (cont.)
On second thought, burn
'em.
He tosses them aside,
rummaging through the crate as the phone rings. Kathy hurries to answer it,
giving Wallace a quick kiss as she passes by.
KATHY
I'll get it...
Wallace pulls a box of
baseball cards from the crate.
WALLACE
Hey, the new cards are
here...
Billy and Clinton step over,
opening new packs of cards as Kathy calls to Wallace.
KATHY
Wallace - it's your
mother. She says she got her foot caught in her Stairmaster, and now she's
trying out as a kicker with the Miami Dolphins.
WALLACE
(groans)
Don't listen to anything
my mother says. She's always making up these unbelievable stories.
BILLY
Hey, cool! Look at this,
Wallace.
Billy holds up a baseball
card, Wallace's jaw dropping in surprise. It's a Wallace Marsh rookie card.
Everyone gathers around, impressed.
WALLACE
My own card...
amazing...
CLINTON
Yeah, this pack's full
of them...
KATHY
It's so cute - look at
the little 'butthead' drawing on the back.
She gives him a kiss,
Wallace unable to take his eyes off the card.
WALLACE
I can't believe I have
my own baseball card. This could be worth something someday.
BILLY
Sure. I'll trade you two
of them for one Ken Davis.
Wallace frowns at Billy, who
begins to laugh. Kathy and Clinton snicker as Wallace grabs Billy, playfully
wrestling with him as we...
FADE OUT
THE END