Bull Durham Page #2

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Life is a party.

A YOUNG WOMAN, MILLIE, 20, half nude, is dressing quickly.

EBBY WHIRLS as Skip enters.

SKIP:

Jesus. Game starts in four

minutes!

(beat)

Why ain't you warm?!

EBBY:

I am warm.

SKIP:

I'm fining you a hundred dollars.

Jesus, Ebby, this is your

professional debut tonight--you

know how many guys out there'd

give blood to be in your shoes

an' you're leavin' your fastball

in the locker room for some piece

of ass!

MILLIE LOOKS OUT FROM BEHIND A BAT RACK -- Outraged.

MILLIE:

Skip, It's me! I'm not some quote

piece of ass unquote.

SKIP:

Oh, Millie, jeez, sorry--I didn't

recognize ya. Don't take it

personal but if I catch you in

here again you're banned from the

ballpark.

MILLIE:

You can't ban me from the ballpark

'cause Daddy donated the scoreboard

and if you banned me he might

take the scoreboard away.

SKIP:

Whatta we need a scoreboard for?

We haven't scored any runs all

year

(tough, to Ebby)

Get your ass out there.

As Skip starts to leave.

EBBY)

Hey Boss, I got a question.

SKIP:

(stops, exasperated)

What?!

EBBY:

You think I need a nickname? I

think I need a nickname. The

great ones have nicknames--

somethin' like Oil Can or Catfish

Skip stares at him. He can't believe this guy.

SKIP:

Ya got three minutes.

SKIP WHIRLS AND HEADS BACK OUT TO THE FIELD -- And Ebby

unperturbed, turns his attention back to Millie.

EBBY:

Got time for another quickie?

MILLIE:

Jesus, you got a game to pitch!

EBBY:

But we got three minutes.

EXT. THE BALLPARK -- MOMENTS LATER -- NIGHT

CUT TO:

MAX PATKIN STILL FLAILING AWAY to "Rock Around the Clock".

RECORDING:

When the clock strikes two, three,

and four and the band slows down

we'll yell for more, gonna rock

around the clock tonight.

ANNIE LOOKS THROUGH HER BINOCULARS -- Studying the players

warming up casually on the sidelines as Patkin winds up his

act.

P.O.V. A LATIN PLAYER playing pepper.

ANNIE:

Number twenty-two's thighs are

just great. Who's he?

JACKSON:

(reading the program)

Jose Galindo. He hit .314 at

Lynchburg last year.

ANNIE:

Three-fourteen? Hmmm... Look't

those thighs, Jackson

BACK TO MAX PATKIN -- He finishes his routine.

RECORDING OVER P.A.

Gonna rock, gonna rock around the

clock tonight.

INT. PRESS BOX -- NIGHT

CUT TO:

A WOMAN ANNOUNCER, MARYLOU, 30, speaks into the P.A. mike.

ANNOUNCER:

Let's hear it for Max Patkin--

Applause as Patkin takes his bows, leaves the field, shakes

hands with a the BULL MASCOT LEADING THE APPLAUSE.

ANNOUNCER:

"The Greatest Show on Dirt"--your

own Durham Bulls!

CUT TO:

INT. THE DUGOUT

CLOSE ON ANOTHER PLAYER -- MICKEY MCFEE, 23, black. Smoking

a cigaret--always smoking a cigaret. He snuffs out his

cigaret and RUNS onto the field with the rest of the team,

as--

EBBY ENTERS THE DUGOUT from the runway. Larry and Skip

encourage their players running onto the field. Ebby is

trying to get the zipper on his fly unstuck. He smiles

broadly at Skip and Larry, and grabs his glove.

EBBY:

I'm there, Skip, I'm ready.

CUT TO:

INT. THE PRESS BOX

THE RADIO ANNOUNCER, TEDDY CULLINANE, 50, leans into the

radio mike of a very small local station. Next to him is

the local SPORTSWRITER, WHITEY SHERRARD, 40. Between them

they've seen a million minor league players come and go.

WHITEY:

Is this guy LaLoosh worth a hundred

grand? I hear he's a quart low?

TEDDY THE RADIO MAN

(covering the mike)

He's left handed. Whattya expect?

(on the air)

The Bulls are off to a slow start

having dropped their first three

games, but hope to turn it around

tonight with the professional

debut of the heralded young left

hander, Ebby Calvin LaLoosh.

(beat)

Stepping In for the Peninsula

White Sox is leadoff hitter Willie

Foster

CUT TO:

EXT. THE BALLFIELD -- NIGHT

ANGLE TO ANNIE'S BOX SEAT -- Millie has joined Annie and

Jackson. Clearly, the younger women look up to Annie for

wisdom and insight.

ANNIE:

--Millie, you've got to stay out

of the clubhouse. It'll just get

everybody in trouble.

MILLIE:

I got lured.

ANNIE:

You didn't get "lured". Women

never get lured. They're too

strong and powerful for that.

Now say it--"I didn't get lured

and I will take responsibility

for my actions".

MILLIE:

"I didn't get lured and I will

take responsibility for my

actions".

ANNIE:

That's better.

(to Jackson)

Got the radar ready?

JACKSON:

Ready.

JACKSON AIMS A RADAR GUN at the plate.

THE PENINSULA WHITE SOX LEADOFF HITTER steps in.

TEDDY THE RADIO MAN (V.O.)

The word on LaLoosh is that the

good looking young lefty has a

major league fastball but sometimes

has problems with his control

EBBY CALVIN LALOOSH WINDS UP and fires. The pitch sails

over the batter's head, over the catcher's head, over the

backstop, and CRASHES INTO THE PRESS BOX.

CUT TO:

INT. THE PRESS BOX

THE ANNOUNCER AND SPORTSWRITER CRASH to the floor as the

ball smashes into their booth.

CUT TO:

INT. THE DUGOUT

SKIP SPITS TOBACCO, mumbles flatly to Larry.

SKIP:

Little high.

LARRY:

(shouts to EBBY)

C'mon big 'un, you're okay...

ANNIE'S BOX SEAT -- She turns to Jackson.

JACKSON:

Ninety-five miles an hour.

ANNIE:

He looks great, just great!

CUT TO:

EXT. THE PITCHER'S MOUND

THE CATCHER TALKS TO EBBY, trying to calm him down.

CATCHER:

What the hell was that?! Lighten

up a little. Awright?

EBBY,

(to catcher)

Hey--what's your name again--I'm

bad with names--

CATCHER:

Ed. You want me to write it on

my chest? Jesus ...

EBBY:

Sorry. Hey, Ed, I got a question.

CATCHER:

What?

EBBY:

Who's the beef sitting behind the

third base dugout?

CATCHER:

(slowly)

That's Annie Savoy. Nice eh?

But that's more woman than you

ever dreamed of, Rook. She could

kick your ass and have you for

breakfast

THE CATCHER RETURNS to the plate.

INT. THE PRESS BOX

CUT TO:

WHITEY AND TEDDY WARILY CLIMB back to their seats.

TEDDY:

One ball and no strikes to Willie

Foster...

CUT TO:

EBBY'S NEXT PITCH HITS FOSTER in the ribs. He crumples.

CUT TO:

ANNIE'S BOX SEAT -- She's writing a note. She hands it to

Jackson.

ANNIE:

Take this to Ebby in the dugout

between innings.

JACKSON:

What's it say?

ANNIE:

It says he's not bending his back

on his follow-through.

JACKSON RUNS OFF with the note. Annie turns to Millie.

ANNIE:

Well let's get down to it, honey--

how was he?

MILLIE:

Well, he fucks like he pitches.

Sorta all over the place

P.O.V. EBBY LALOOSH FIRES ANOTHER ONE into the stands. And--

Hit "Rock Around the Clock"--

DISSOLVE INTO:

QUICK MONTAGE OF EBBY'S FIRST GAME -- Strikeouts and wild

pitches. A young, gifted, uncontrollable thrower.

BILL HALEY AND HIS COMETS

When the chimes ring five, six

and seven--We'll be right in

Seventh Heaven, Gonna rock around

the clock tonight...

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