Balls Out: The Gary Houseman Story Page #2

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Yeah.

All three sides of an equilateral triangle

have the same length

and each corner has a 60-degree angle.

An isosceles triangle,

only two sides are the same length and...

What's going on?

- Mr. Tuttle's dead!

- What?

He was just explaining isosceles

and then he bent over and he just dropped.

I don't understand. Triangles?

He just dropped!

Make a path! Get out of my f***ing way!

Coach down!

What the f***!

- Hey!

- He's clear.

Give me the f***ing things! You know,

the things! The f***ing clappers!

- He's been gone for 20 minutes.

- Bullshit!

You medevac in a baboon's heart

right f***ing now.

I'm sorry, sir. You have to step back.

He's gone.

Clear a path.

Coming through.

Come back, Coach.

Those bright lights aren't court lamps.

And, obviously, we're all stunned

at what happened the other day.

Lew was the real deal.

They broke the mold

when they made that son of a gun.

I understand Lew appointed you

to be his assistant.

- Yes, sir.

- Glad to hear it.

That'll make the transition a lot easier

on the boys.

Gary, I've appointed Steve to be head coach.

Unfortunately, Steve doesn't know

a thing about tennis,

or any other sport, for that matter.

Well, you know, actually,

badminton is very similar

in that they both use rackets,

only instead of keeping balls aloft...

But, he's the only faculty member

who volunteered,

so, he's in.

I'm sorry I couldn't promote you

to head coach, Gary.

City rules dictate that all head coaches

have to be faculty.

But you can make this a lot easier

on the boys by keeping up Lew's routines.

He ran a tight ship.

So, I want the two of you

to think of yourselves as co-head coaches.

Amy, what are you doing here?

- Sorry, Daddy, I had to leave school.

- What is it this time?

I'm pregnant,

and I need money for an abortion.

Amy, do you remember what Dr. Saxena said

about telling lies?

But I'm not lying!

And last month you had AIDS?

That prostitute made me shoot up

with a dirty needle.

I don't want my baby to have the AIDS!

That's why I need an abortion!

Honey, I'm in the middle of something here.

Why don't you wait outside with Meg

and I'll walk you back to school later, okay?

Okay.

That's right, sweetie, stay with me.

- How old is she?

- Eight.

That's a fun age.

Anyway, this isn't football,

so no one's gonna be overly concerned

about your record.

Let's just try to make tennis

something these boys can fall back on

while they deal with their coach's death.

- Well, yeah, certainly death is not an easy...

- I disagree.

Mr. Daubert's exactly right!

We can help these boys!

Tennis won't die on them.

And they need to know that!

Well, I never meant to suggest

that tennis would die on them.

I'm just saying that every life form expires,

and it's not easy for other organisms

in the vicinity of the dying party.

- Jenny, can you get the door?

- Okay, Mom.

Hi, Jenny. I'm so sorry.

- I brought your family some chocolates.

- Thanks.

- Jenny, who is it?

- The janitor.

And the new head coach.

Yes?

I like them short.

Yes?

Hi.

God damn it! Doesn't make any sense!

Prime of his life!

I'm just worried about the boys.

Coach T. Left shoes too big

for 10 men to fill,

and here my assistant and I...

Do you know Steve Pimble?

I believe our eldest

had him for Chemistry last year.

- Your eldest? Son or daughter?

- Son.

- He's a freshman at the U.

- That's great.

Will he coach tennis after college?

I don't think so. Brad's pre-med.

He's more of an intellectual than an athlete.

Yes!

Yeah!

Well, the world needs doctors, too.

Anyway, I just thought I would ask,

and please stop me

if this is inappropriate timing,

I was hoping that Coach T. Had some

instructional tools,

or anything that might help our transition.

I remember that he had a student

videotape some of the matches.

That would be great.

Jenny, grab the sun tea off the porch

and pour Gary a glass.

Down! Down! Get off!

Here you go.

Thank you.

So, Jenny,

I know how much you love tennis.

And I just want you to know

that if you ever want to hang around

at practice like you used to,

or if you need a ride home, or anything,

just let me know.

I don't love tennis.

You at least like it, though, right?

I like watching it, I guess.

But I don't really play.

Volleyball's more my sport.

- Court or sand?

- Court.

I'm more of a sand man, myself.

In fact, I was partying with the Dominican

sand team down in Cabo a few years ago,

and we were just completely

out of our minds on mescaline,

and these two little nymphos walked by

and they were like,

"Show us your c*cks!" You know.

I'm sorry, Jenny, that was probably not

the most appropriate story right now.

So do you play on the volleyball team?

I played in junior high,

but I'm not good enough for varsity.

Thanks.

Are those Coach Tuttle's dogs?

Yes, they are. Were.

They're quite a handful,

always knocking me down.

They're just so big.

May I pet them?

Whether it was on the court or off the court,

Coach T. Always had time for his kids.

No matter if they were in his class,

on his team,

or just needed someone to talk to,

Coach T. Always made them a priority.

If they needed him, he was there.

He was unique, and he was an original.

I want to thank you all for being here today.

Please sign the memorial book

on your way out.

This will conclude our service.

I remember the first time that I saw Coach T.

He was on the court,

his beloved boys gathered around him.

My God, what a presence!

Next day, I met him.

He told me this was his year.

With this group of boys,

he would end the 20-year drought

and bring home the Ark of the Covenant,

the elusive Nebraska state tennis title.

Like Moses, Coach T. Will not see

the promised land with earthly eyes.

But I want him to know

that we will fight the good fight.

And with the help of his guiding spirit,

we will bring home the state trophy

to West High

where Coach always knew it belonged.

God bless you, Coach T.

We will always...

We will always...

God damn you, heaven, you son of a b*tch!

We're gonna miss the sh*t out of you,

you old man!

He was a good man.

Maybe the best.

I love Mike.

I boss tennis.

What?

I have...

bandana.

I'm sorry to interrupt.

I'm Gary, the new tennis coach.

May I borrow Mike for a few minutes?

Yes. Mike...

Yes.

Yes.

- She's really hot.

- Yeah.

- What's her name?

- Miss Sanchez. She's from Argentina.

- You banging her?

- No.

So I've been watching some of your

junior year work against Southpoint.

Watch this and tell me what's wrong.

Get your damn head in the game!

Yeah, Mike. Pull your damn head

out of your ass!

- My approach shot was down the middle?

- No, that's fine.

And forget that bullshit about

always approaching to the backhand.

Down the middle takes away passing angles.

- My approach shot was too soft?

- That's not it.

I should've sliced my approach

to keep it low.

Forget the f***ing approach shot!

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