42 Page #16

Jack’s either going to explode or break into tears.

JACK:

Do you know what it's like, having

someone do this to you?!

RICKEY:

No. You do. You’re the one living

the sermon. In the wilderness.

Forty days. All of it. Only you.

JACK:

And not a damn thing I can do about

it.

RICKEY:

Of course there is! You can stand

up and hit! You can get on base

and you can score! You can win

this game for us! We need you as

well! Everyone needs you.

(a beat; exhausted)

You’re medicine, Jack.

Rickey reaches out, touches the wall to stay standing. Jack

just breathes as familiar sounds reverb down the tunnel.

JACK:

They’re taking the field.

RICKEY:

Who’s playing first?

Jack considers him. Everything hangs in the balance. Then:

JACK:

I’m gonna need a new bat.

As Jack heads back down the tunnel for the field.

CUT TO:

133 EXT. SCOREBOARD - EBBETS FIELD - DAY 133

Eight zeros hang for the Phillies. Seven for the Dodgers.

No score, the bottom of the 8th coming up.

134 JACK 134

Steps into the batter’s box. Chapman and his sidekicks step

from the Stygian abyss of the visitor’s dugout.

PINK REV 4-19-12 8181.

CHAPMAN:

Hey, black N*gger! I know you can

hear me! If you were a white boy,

you know where you’d be right now?!

On a bus headed down to Newport

News cuz you can’t play for sh*t!

Here comes the pitch. Jack nonchalantly sticks his bat out,

pokes a soft hit past second. A nothing hit, but he’s

standing on first. And he looks, well, ferocious in fact.

As Pete Reiser steps up into the batter’s box...

Jack stares at Dutch Leonard. Assassin’s eyes as he takes an

insolent, in-your-face lead off first.

Dutch fires to first. Jack dives back safe!

Back on his feet, he spits out a piece of grit he picked up

sliding back on his belly. Not bothering to dust himself

off, he’s turning into something elemental before our eyes.

135 RED BARBER 135

Up in the booth.

BARBER:

Two strikes now to Reiser as

Leonard looks in. Robinson with

another big lead off first. He's as *

restless as a cat with a hot foot. *

136 RACHEL 136

Witnessing.

RACHEL:

Steal it, sweetheart. Take it.

137 FIELD 137

Dutch throws. Jack on the run as Reiser swings and misses -

STRIKE THREE! - and Seminick comes up throwing.

Jack slides into second, the throw high, ends up in center.

Half a dozen Dodgers impulsively on their feet and waving him

on as Jack gets to his feet and motors into THIRD. The throw

well late. Phillies third baseman HANDLEY throws the ball

back to Dutch. Handley then looks to Jack.

HANDLEY:

I’m sorry. I want you to know what

goes on here, it don't go for me.

Jack barely nods, but he heard.

BLUE REV 4-07-12 82.

BARBER’S VOICE

Hermanski steps up.

PLATE:

Dutch looking to third, nodding distracted at a sign, looking

back to third before... Hermanski cracks a single to left.

As Jack crosses the plate, he stares down Chapman on his way

to the dugout. As Chapman turns his head, spits -CUT

TO:

138 INT. VISITOR’S LOCKER ROOM - DAY 138

Several REPORTERS around Chapman as well. He drinks a BEER.

CHAPMAN:

You fellas are making too big a

deal out of this. He scored We

lost. One to nothing.

REPORTER THREE:

Do you think you were a little hard

on Robinson?

CHAPMAN:

We treat him the same way we do

Hank Greenburg except we call Hank

a kike instead of a coon. When we

play exhibitions against the

Yankees, we call DiMaggio the Wop.

They laugh at it. No harm, it’s

forgotten after the game ends.

Chapman tosses away his beer can.

REPORTER THREE:

Don’t you think this was maybe one

foot over the line?

*

CHAPMAN:

Hey. Let's get the chips off our

shoulders and play ball. It's a

game, right?

CUT TO:

139 INT. SHOWER - DODGER LOCKER ROOM - DAY 139

Jack alone in the shower. Water beating down. Steam rising.

A warrior who survived another day of battle. Maybe. They

say the Lord doesn’t ask us to bear any more than we’re able,

but God is cutting it pretty damn close here. He is in pain.

CUT TO:

GREEN REV 4-27-12 8383.

140 INT. BRANCH RICKEY’S OFFICE - BROOKLYN - LATE AFTERNOON 140

Rickey sits brooding, thinking. Parrott enters, upset.

PARROTT:

I’m going in that Phillie dugout

tomorrow and wring Chapman’s neck!

Rickey considers Parrott, starts laughing. Parrott is hurt.

PARROTT:

Did I say something funny?

RICKEY:

When I first told you about Jackie,

you were against it. Now all of a

sudden you’re worrying about him.

How do you suppose that happened?

PARROTT:

Well, any decent minded person -

RICKEY:

Sympathy, Harold, is a Greek word.

It means to suffer. I sympathize

with you means I suffer with you.

This Philadelphia manager has done

me a service.

PARROTT:

A service?!

RICKEY:

Is there an echo in here? Yes,

he's creating sympathy on Jackie's

behalf. Philadelphia by the way is

Greek for brotherly love.

The intercom BUZZES.

JANE ANN’S VOICE *

Bob Bragan to see you, Mr. Rickey.

RICKEY:

(flashes angry)

What in Satan’s fire does he want?

(presses button)

Send him in.

Rickey pretends to review papers as Bragan enters, his hat

literally in his hand. Rickey lets him stand there a moment.

RICKEY:

What do you want, Bragan?

WHITE 3-14-12 84.

BRAGAN:

I’d like not to be traded, sir, if

it isn't too late.

RICKEY:

What about Robinson?

Bragan’s been staring at the floor. He looks up now. The

low afternoon sun hits his face.

BRAGAN:

I’d like to be his teammate.

RICKEY:

Why?

BRAGAN:

The world’s changing; I guess I can

live with the change.

RICKEY:

(sarcastic)

Red Sox just offered Ted Williams,

but I’ll see what I can do.

BRAGAN:

Thank you, Mr. Rickey.

Bragan leaves. Rickey looks at Parrott: ‘What do you know?’

CUT TO:

141 EXT. UNDER THE STANDS - EBBETS FIELD - LATE AFTERNOON 141

Rachel waiting. Jack exits, sees her, hadn’t expected her.

JACK:

You shouldn’t have waited.

RACHEL:

They haven’t made a day long enough

that I wouldn’t wait for you.

JACK:

Give these boys time. It’s a three

game series.

A beat between them, framed by the steel girders around them.

JACK (CONT’D)

I don’t care if they like me; I

didn’t come here to make friends.

I don’t even care if they respect

me. I know who I am; I got enough

respect for myself. But I do not

want them to beat me.

YELLOW REV 4-24-12 8585.

RACHEL:

They are never going to beat you.

JACK:

They’re taking their best shot. I

don’t want you coming tomorrow. I

don’t want you to watch that, them

beating me.

RACHEL:

Wherever you are, I am, too. Look

at me. Jack...

He looks over. It’s not easy for this most proud of men.

RACHEL:

I have to watch. So our hearts

don’t break... Plus I already

bought a scorecard.

She holds it up. His name the only one filled in.

RACHEL:

And I put your name on it. See?

Jack Robinson.

He puts his hand out, takes hers.

JACK:

I did good the day I met you.

RACHEL:

Baby, you hit a home run.

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