Any Given Sunday Page #5

And your dumb country ass

can't even read a f***ing playbook.

You can take your football, since

it's the only ball you got anyway...

...and stick it up your ass...

...because my beautiful ass

you won't be seeing anymore.

I'll be at Darlene's house.

She might f*** better than you, b*tch!

-Get your dyke ass out!

-I'm not a dyke!

You got a nasty mouth on you too!

I don't want you around my kids...

...with that goddamn cussing and sh*t!

F*** you, big-ass b*tch!

Mind if I sit down for a minute?

What you listening to?

Rap.

Anyone I know?

Trick Daddy.

-You know him?

-Sure.

You ever listen to jazz?

You know, Coltrane, Monk...

...Miles Davis, Billie Holiday?

I don't get into the old stuff much.

Well, maybe I'll put together

a tape for you.

-My favorites--

-CDs.

These. CDs.

Forget about it then.

How about your mom?

Is she ever gonna come to a game?

Church.

She thinks that Sundays is for church.

Maybe you don't know this...

...but I lost my dad

when I was young too.

World War ll.

If you ever want to talk

about that stuff...

...I'm around.

Deuce Right Split 25 Barrel Clear

on one.

I'm coming in fast.

Don't make me wait.

On one. Ready?

-What did he say?

-I don't speak Ebonics.

I don't speak Beamen.

-I got the outside backer?

-You got the nose.

Nose. Face.

They think that you are a bunch of

lowbrow Neanderthal shitheads!

They think they'll gut you and leave

you with your insides hanging out...

...so that the goddamn buzzards

can eat your no-playing asses!

You're gonna have a stroke!

I don't get strokes, motherf***er!

I give them!

Fumble! Oh, no!

There goes another one from J-man.

Or was it Willie Beamen?

Aw, come on!

Damn it!

-Snake Eyes Right, right?

-I was adjusting!

You didn't adjust sh*t!

I think McKenna's got a distended knee.

He's out.

He's out for how long?!

If he's lucky, Easter.

You didn't adjust sh*t!

Knock it off! Knock it off!

You realize that that little screw up

just cost us McKenna for the season!

Sit down, all of you!

Sit down and shut the f*** up!

They're leaking,

you don't know where. Fix it!

Don't scream, yell,

all that bullshit! Fix it!

What the f*** is wrong with you?

Where'd you find this f*ggot?

-I had to get that out of my system.

-Don't do it on my shoes.

-On your period, you anorexic f***er?

-Yes, I am.

Right Deuce Dog 90 Smoke on three.

Jimmy, you're one. Ice, you're two.

Champagne, you can clear out.

J-man, take the flat.

Don't force it if you don't got it.

I'm a righteous f***er.

On three. Ready?

Wow, look at that block!

Perfect throw! Touchdown!

Touchdown pass,

Beamen to Sanderson.

Touchdown, Beamen.

Touchdown, Sharks!

Strong right!

Will you get someone to block 58?

Turn it up!

Punting team. Jesus!

Right Deuce Gun, F-shoot 60 Snake Eyes

on three.

You run Snake Eyes in the red zone.

Get on my page or shut the f*** up.

On three. Ready?

Under incredible pressure,

off his back foot!

Sixty yards! Touchdown!

Playoffs!

Playoffs, New York

and home-field advantage.

As the Sharks go in to

their bye week...

...the story's gotta be

Willie Beamen.

He 's running. He 's throwing.

He 's rocking and rolling,

chucking and jiving.

He 's flat-out steaming.

This magic Sunday,

he's Steamin' Beamen.

Hell, no.

Not this Nazi rock sh*t again!

Metallica rules!

Hetfield is God.

We live to serve him.

You should bow down

to the monsters of rock!

That's right, b*tch!

Can you feel the intensity, baby?!

We did something exceptional today.

We were under pressure, and we did it.

Come Wednesday,

we got one thing on our minds.

One thing, victory!

We wanna feel this way again,

don't we?

Hey, guys.

-Clark. Great game.

-Appreciate it.

Where's Beamen at?

He's down there.

How's it going?

Hey, Cap.

J.J., great game.

Looking really good out there.

Pete, don't stiffen up on me.

Congratulations. You were great.

Really exciting to watch out there.

Well, you know, I thrill to chill.

You can't dance!

Get off the juice,

you'll get a little loose!

F*** you. F*** you.

It's like that?

I'll be back. I'll be back.

I hope you don't think this is rude.

You know, I don't B.S., Miss Pagnicci.

You do it to me.

I was wondering if we could go out

for a drink or something, hang.

-I'm flattered. Really, I am.

-You should be.

But I've never dated players.

It gives the wrong impression.

I guess you're saying you're

influenced by what other people think.

I think we all are, in business.

And it's...

..."Pagniacci."

Eat this, you f***ing pussies!

I'm sorry, baby, I'm sorry!

Reebok's got this ad campaign...

...ready to go the moment I hit

I don't get the ball, I don't get

my stats, I don't get my money.

This team isn't about your damn stats.

That's a winning attitude, J.

How much you paying that

Let him block.

Because he sure can't run like I can.

J-man's got a point.

Beamen ain't doing his homework.

He won't read the playbook,

he won't come see the films.

He doesn't even know the names

of the defense he's facing.

He don't give

a gee-whiz about anybody.

He just wants

to make the plays himself.

He's young, Cap.

He doesn't know how to read like you.

What do you mean, he's young?

Come on! He just does what he likes.

He's changing the plays in the huddle.

Plays that you designed, that I love.

He's dissing this play and dissing

that play. "l got a better play!"

Guys, we won.

What's the point?

I'm trying to get paid!

That's the point!

The point is, if we don't win,

you can't do your commercials.

What do you know?

You're an offensive coordinator!

Jesus Christ.

Keep your mouth shut.

Get this sh*t straight, coach.

I'm with you, man.

It's all right, J.

Anything else?

Hey, guess what?

Coach suddenly invited me

over for dinner.

Or orders me, more like.

That means you made it, boy.

The coach thinks you're the real deal,

invites you to his house...

...makes the worst jambalaya.

Better bring some flowers.

Coach gets really pissed off

if you don't bring flowers.

Flowers?

Trust me, man.

When?

Saturday.

That's tight, man.

Got a gig over at my house.

Going to be a lot of trim.

Don't bring no sand to the beach.

Come on, I'm a born-again ladies' man.

I bet you were born again, baby.

With a team, hotshot, you can try

to lead them, but will anyone follow?

You go out there on your own,

you're gonna die a very lonely death.

You feeling me?

Say, Cap, how old are you again?

We got a problem.

There's something wrong with Shark.

Brilliant. Did you

go to medical school for that?

His eye-hand coordination's

deteriorating.

He's f***ed up. The crazier they are,

the more the crowd likes it.

This isn't pro wrestling.

He needs an MRI.

You gonna order a $20,000 workup

for every nutcase on this team?

Could have a subdural hematoma,

intracranial bleeding.

Or he could just be

a crazy f***er, okay?

They walk on that field every Sunday.

They got only one thing going for them:

their confidence.

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