Angels in the Outfield Page #6

I don't like to intrude, but may I have

your autograph, Mr. McGovern, on a check?

I got the tab today from my dentist.

Repairing bridgework, $ 180.

Just send me the bill, first of the month.

I think you'll like his work. Look at my...

Will you stop? Will you stop?

I thought you'd like to see

what you're paying for. I beg your pardon.

- Look, blow, huh? Please.

- Let me explain.

You see, a few weeks ago, Mr. McGovern,

in his usual charming, inimitable style...

...put the slug on me.

Didn't you, Guffy?

- Would you step outside for a moment?

- I'd be delighted.

McGovern.

Oh, sure, sure. Don't worry.

- Yeah? What?

- Look, I'm having a little birthday.

- Don't louse it up.

- No.

You had a couple of drinks,

you feel good.

- I feel fine. Great shape.

- Sure, be a nice guy. Go on home.

Why should I be a nice guy for you?

Give me one reason.

- Nobody's bothering you tonight.

- Nobody will.

If any party tries to bother me,

I'll hook him in the mouth.

Now, wait a minute...

I'll take her in. You stay where you are.

- You'll have to carry her.

- Up we go.

Thank you.

Come in. Right this way, please.

- Oh, no, no, I just...

- Please.

No, no, no.

Right up to bed now, dear.

- Good night.

- Good night.

That's a sweet kid, that one there.

- Did you have a good party?

- Nicest time I ever had.

- Happy birthday.

- Well, thanks.

What happens to the kids here, Sister?

- What do you mean?

- Well, do they stay here forever...

...or doesn't anybody ever come around

and, you know?

Adopt them? Occasionally.

Not so often as we'd like.

They all seem to want tiny babies now.

I'd be afraid.

Were you thinking of adopting Bridget?

Who, me? No, I just... I couldn't, could I?

Well, it would present certain problems.

There's no law against it, of course.

But the court usually doesn't permit children

to go to unmarried people.

Yeah, that would be a problem.

- I'll pray on it.

- Thanks.

It's not that I couldn't afford to keep her.

I've got some dough.

I just never had anybody to spend it on...

...but a kid like that ought to have

somebody. Well, like a father.

Not that I'm any shining example

of behavior.

There have been some times and...

Well, baseball's a pretty tough game...

...and a lot of people say that l...

Well, maybe you've heard.

I sat in the back of first base one day.

Oh, well, I don't have to tell you,

but that's all over, believe me.

It's a thing of the past.

I keep my mouth shut...

...and my hands in my pockets.

No language, not even one fight.

You see, Sister, we were in this restaurant

and there was this fella...

Good night, Sister.

Good night, McGovern.

- Oh, thank you.

- Wait for me, will you?

She's really a sweet child.

She just adores you.

- Have you ever thought of adopting her?

- Who, me?

Well, I don't see anybody else

around here.

Oh, don't be silly. What would I want

with a kid around the house?

Besides, a thing like that...

Well, it presents certain problems.

Well, this is where I live.

What kind of problems?

Problems.

It has been a wonderful evening,

especially the main event.

Bet that's the first black eye

you've had in years.

You travel around with me,

I'll fix you good.

Is my face on crooked or something?

Well, yours is.

You'd better go home and fix it.

Don't believe that beefsteak routine,

that's just superstition.

What it needs is hot and cold applications,

preferably Epsom salts.

Look, you make a move,

I'll make a move, huh?

A long time ago,

I played third base in Minneapolis.

There was a girl in Saint Paul,

the nicest girl I ever knew.

We did a lot of talking

and I made some big plans...

...but they didn't include

a certain shortstop...

...the one she finally married.

It was quite a blow.

I can imagine.

I guess I've been taking it out

on everybody else ever since.

Good night.

Good night.

Sister?

- Is it always right to turn the other cheek?

- Certainly. Why?

Well, Mr. McGovern did last night,

and he got sloughed something awful.

The meek shall inherit the earth.

I never missed a game after that.

In September, the Pirates met the Giants

in the final series.

They needed three straight games

to win the pennant.

Stay there, boy.

Make him pitch to you.

Two and two, boy.

Make him pitch to you.

Guffy!

- How do you feel?

- It's nothing. I don't feel a thing.

Did it again, didn't I?

Why did I have to go and wave at you?

It's nothing. We won, didn't we?

Where am I having dinner?

I mean, where are you having dinner?

I mean us.

You're not going anyplace except home.

I've got a cab.

Hi, Guffy. Nice catch.

You okay? Any injuries?

No, no. I've been hit in the head

20 times. I feel fine.

Did you see any angels?

I've never seen an angel

but I talked to one.

- What did you say? You speak to angels?

- Certainly.

- Can we quote you?

- Why not?

An angel sits in back of me in the dugout.

- Oh, Guffy.

- Where they running?

Oh, let's get out of here.

Sister?

Isn't it wonderful?

I see them and Guffy talks to them.

Believe me, gentle listener,

there is more to this than meets the eye.

Mr. McGovern's antics,

on the field and off...

...are no longer a source of amusement,

but a basis for serious inquiry.

His latest peccadillo, an admission to

the press that he converses with angels...

For heaven's sakes, you were hit

on the head. You could say anything.

- is unworthy of the high position

he now commands.

Proof beyond doubt that Mr. McGovern is,

to put it charitably...

...emotionally unstable and guilty of

conduct detrimental to organized baseball.

Mr. McGovern's supporters claim

his peculiar statement was made...

...after being hit in the head

with a line drive...

...therefore, he is not responsible.

He admits it.

I would like to ask

Mr. McGovern a question.

Was he responsible seven weeks ago

in Boston?

How about it, McGovern?

Seven weeks ago, were you

or were you not of sound mind and limb?

Beside me in the studio tonight

is a man who can answer these questions.

- Would you tell us your name, please?

- Patrick J. Finley.

What is your occupation, Mr. Finley?

I'm a groundkeeper at Braves Field,

up in Boston.

Will you please tell us what you saw

in Braves Field about seven weeks ago?

- Well, I see Mr. McGovern.

- What time?

I don't know. After the game.

Where was he?

Sitting on second base.

And what was he doing?

He was talking.

Talking to whom?

I don't know.

There wasn't anybody there.

And when he was sitting

on second base...

...talking to somebody who wasn't there,

where was he looking?

Up.

- What did he say?

- I don't know exactly.

I couldn't hear everything.

I was in the dugout.

But one thing he said was, "I have a right

to know the name of my own angel."

He said that, "my own angel"?

Yes, sir. Then he said again:

- "Don't go away mad."

- Thank you, Mr. Finley.

I ask you, ladies and gentlemen

and Mr. Commissioner...

... is this the act of a normal,

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