Angels in the Outfield Page #3

On what base?

Come on, a guy's got a right

to know his own angel.

Just give me a hint.

What team were you with?

- What position?

- All right, lay off.

Your broken-down ball club

is winning ball games.

What more do you want?

I'll see you around.

- No, wait. Listen.

- Goodbye.

Goodbye, and keep your nose

out of things that don't concern you.

All right, all right.

Don't go away sore, huh?

- Sorry, Mr. McGovern.

- Oh, that's all right. Sit down, son.

Well, I told Minelli

I'd have dinner with him.

Hey, when you made that catch today,

how come you were so far to your right?

I don't know.

I had a feeling Johnson would hit it there.

A left-hander?

He never hit there in his life.

I don't know, just call it a hunch.

He's reading Shakespeare.

- Go on.

- The Tempest, I had it in English III.

- He asked me to sit down with him.

- Yeah, this morning he said hello.

- I don't like it. It isn't natural.

- He hasn't changed...

...he's just charging his batteries. Waiter?

- Yes, sir?

You do what I said?

Yes, sir.

- This is all right?

- You're sure it's tough enough?

Mr. Baxter, this was cut right

from between the horns.

- Hey, Saul.

- Yeah?

- Pull up a chair.

- Thanks, but I'd like to digest my dinner.

You did all right in the old days.

Remember how we used to tear around?

I don't wanna think about the old days.

I don't wanna think about you.

Do you mind?

Your steak all right, sir?

It's a wee bit tough,

but it has a very nice flavor.

When the Pirates played

their next game in Pittsburgh...

... it started out

just like any other afternoon.

But events were taking shape

in the bleachers section.

Some orphan kids in on passes

had come to cheer for the home team.

It was a regular weekly event.

- Who's pitching, Mr. Smalley?

- Martin, Sister.

Won four, lost six.

Come on, Martin.

Stay in there and keep it high.

If he feeds it to Modbury low,

he'll put it in our laps.

- Oh, dear.

- Don't worry about Martin, he's super.

Let's go Marty,

show them what you did in Boston!

Pass the peanuts, dear.

Fair.

Fair? Fair? Fair ball?

Why, thou knave, thou dolt!

Thou hast eyes but seest not!

You heard him, he said fair.

Fie, fie upon you and a pox upon you too.

Thou art blind, thou black-livered bat!

Hey, Hamlet, blow.

- Now, let's get it, come on.

- Attaboy, Joe.

The orphan kids cheered for the Pirates

all through the game...

... but they were losing.

It was the sixth inning.

The score, 7 to 2 in favor of the Phillies.

Things were looking bad for the Pirates.

Then suddenly it happened.

Look! Look at the angel behind Mandekic.

What did you say, dear?

And there's one behind Ronson too,

and Rothberg and Rezende.

There's one in the back of everybody.

- One what?

- Angel.

Get her out of the sun.

Come along, Bridget.

- How do you feel, dear?

- I feel fine.

There they are again!

- There are people sitting behind you.

- But I see them, angels.

- The kid is seeing angels.

- Ain't nothing to what I've seen sometimes.

- Look!

- You'll get us in trouble.

Bridget, that's enough.

But I see them, Sister, big as life.

In the outfield, in the infield...

And there's one

sitting on the scoreboard.

Are you having trouble, Sister?

Nothing I can't take care of, thank you.

Do you want to leave again

and not come back?

- No, Sister.

- Then let's have no more angels.

The Pirates won again, 10 to 7.

It was getting to be a habit.

On the way out,

I ran into Smalley, the park cop.

He told me about the little girl

in the bleachers...

... an orphan who saw angels.

I had my story for the day.

- Hello, Joe.

- Good morning.

- Yes?

- I'd like to see a little girl.

Come in, please.

What age?

About 8, I guess.

That would be third grade, my class.

Would you wait just a moment, please?

Children, there's a gentleman here.

He's looking for a little girl.

They never adopt them with glasses.

Why, Mr. McGovern.

I think she's the one.

I'd like to talk to you.

I think you should talk

to some of the others too.

- We have some very nice girls here.

- Well, I'm sure...

What is it, Sister? Oh, Mr. McGovern.

Well, how do you do?

I came about the story in the paper.

Yes, I read it.

Is this the kid that...?

Is she the little girl who saw the angels?

Well, I just want to ask her

a couple of questions.

Bridget, wait in my office.

Yes, Sister.

Thank you, Sister. Mr. McGovern,

will you come with me, please?

Thank you.

I'm Sister Edwitha, mother superior.

How the paper got the story,

I have no idea.

But I think it's best for all concerned

that we just forget it.

Yes. Oh, Sister...

Excuse me, but you don't know baseball,

baseball fans.

Thing like this gets started, it becomes

a big megillah, and megillah's a sort of a...

- Federal case.

- Yeah.

- Go on.

- Well, the fans want answers...

...and I'm the manager,

and I've got to supply them.

A little girl sits too long in the sun

without her hat on...

...and she thinks she sees something.

Surely, you don't believe

they were angels?

Me?

Would it do any harm

just to talk to her?

- I don't want the child excited.

- Oh, I won't. I promise.

Well, just one moment.

- Oh, there's one other thing.

- Yes?

In the seventh inning

yesterday afternoon...

...when Rothberg was on third,

why didn't you try a squeeze?

- They expected it.

- Well, that's just it.

They were expecting it. They knew

you knew that they were expecting it...

...so you wouldn't pull it.

Why, it would be completely unexpected.

Rothberg's fast.

He'd have made home easily.

Yeah, well, Rothberg happens to have

a bad ankle. He hurt it in practice.

Oh, I'll light a candle for him.

Will you just go along in? Excuse me.

- Hi.

- Hi.

Sit down.

You read this?

It says yesterday you saw angels.

Did you?

Are you sure?

Did you ever see angels before?

- How did you know that they were angels?

- They looked like angels.

- With wings?

- Well, sort of like wings.

Not baseball uniforms?

Sort of like uniforms.

What color socks?

I couldn't see. Their robes were too long.

How many were there?

One behind each player.

The Pirates, I mean.

One on the scoreboard

and one in the bullpen.

Was there one behind me?

Is he there now?

Who's that?

- That's St. Gabriel.

- Figures.

Now, about these "sort of like uniforms"...

...was there any writing across the chest...

...like New York maybe,

or Cardinals or Dodgers?

It wasn't a whole name, just initials.

Well, what initials?

HC.

- Heavenly Choir.

- What?

Nothing, nothing.

Now, about these other kids,

they didn't see anything, huh?

Just you? Well, why was that,

do you suppose?

Maybe because I've been praying for you.

- Me? You've been praying for me?

- The whole team.

How long have you been praying?

Ever since you hit the slump.

You must have been praying

pretty hard, huh?

Oh, yes. Every night and every morning...

...and sometimes during arithmetic.

That's very nice. Thanks.

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