Cobb Page #7

The problem with baseball today is that...

the players are in it for the money

rather than the love and fun of it.

At the age of 22...

I sunk some dough into a little beverage

outfit in Georgia...

dash, turned into Coca-Cola. Period.

At 24, I sunk some dough...

in a couple of automobile companies

in Detroit...

dash, turned into General Motors. Period.

The money piled up like...

base hits...

and it's still piling up.

A ballplayer loses a step

the older he gets...

dash... No, semicolon...

a man of finance gains one.

Period, double space, new paragraph.

Chapter 7 will be called

"Me and Napoleon Lajoie. "

- How you doing, Stump?

- Great, fine.

- Semicolon is very good.

- Good.

During the day we worked on his book...

at night I worked on mine.

I was drinking like a fish,

smoking too much...

and by writing two versions,

I was becoming something Cobb was not:

I was becoming a liar.

Fabulous stuff.

- Stumpy, just brilliant. You're a genius.

- Thank you, sir.

Damn, I love reading about me.

Hey, what the hell is that out there?

I'm trying to work in here,

you noisy son of a b*tch!

I'd appreciate a little

goddamn peace and quiet.

Try that on, you noisy sons of b*tches!

I'm paying good money to stay here...

and these noisy people

are raising all kinds of hell.

I can't get any work done.

Stumpy, take care of this for me.

- It's okay, no problem.

- It's not okay.

It's okay.

Thought it was a prowler, that's all.

We're leaving. Nobody's hurt.

Everything's fine.

Soon, I knew more about his drugs

than he did.

Whatever bizarre cocktails of morphine,

or lithium, or insulin...

I helped inject into his bloodstream

full of bourbon...

somehow they always revived him.

Somewhere along the way,

I'd gone from biographer to stenographer...

to chauffeur to nurse.

I was the only thing

keeping the bastard alive...

and I kept hoping he'd die.

You know something, Stumpy?

With a friend like you,

I could go on forever.

You're gonna see some great athletes...

great men, great warriors

at this Hall of Fame dinner, Stumpy.

You ain't gonna see no modern,

pansy-ass bullshit.

No, I've been looking forward to this

for a long time.

You f***ing liar.

You've been hoping I'd die first.

- You've got me all wrong.

- I got you right.

But it's all right...

'cause I need your help.

See who that is.

- May I help you?

- Cobb here?

- May I ask why?

- I'm Mickey Cochrane.

Come on in.

Ty, it's Mickey Cochrane.

Where's your goddamn tuxedo?

- I don't have one.

- I sent you money for it.

- It didn't arrive.

- Bullshit, you drank it up.

Can't have you going to the Hall of Fame

looking like that.

Things have been rough, Ty.

Don't complain and don't explain.

Here, please go buy yourself a tuxedo.

Stores are closed.

How could you be so good behind the plate

and so bad everywhere else?

You broke-dick old bastard.

Do I have to do everything

in this goddamn league?

Hello, operator.

Who's got the best men's store

in Cooperstown, New York?

I tell you what. Get him on the telephone

for me at his house.

Hello, Jack, this is Ty Cobb. Yes, sir.

I'll tell you what you can do.

You go down to your store...

open it up, you sell a tuxedo

to the great Mickey Cochrane.

And while you're at it,

get him a cummerbund, new shirt, bow tie...

set of studs, and a set of cufflinks...

and a bottle of cologne

'cause the son of a b*tch stinks.

I don't know. He might have had one.

It's a joke.

What's that?

Sure do thank you.

Mickey, you gotta put forth a better effort.

- Here.

- Thanks, Ty.

It was a great pleasure meeting you.

He's lost, Stump. Fastball to the head.

That poor man is lost.

You support him?

And I have for years.

It's not gonna go in your book though.

- But why not?

- Because it would embarrass him.

I don't wanna take that cane tonight.

You've got to have your cane.

I don't have to have anything.

You'll help me out.

In case I wobble, something like that,

you put a hand here...

you keep me upright, I'm gonna be all right.

I'll be there.

How do I look?

Like the greatest ballplayer of all time.

The great left-handed pitcher

from the New York Giants...

who struck out five men in a row

in the 1934 All-Star game:

Carl Hubbell, ladies and gentlemen.

Welcome "The Meal Ticket. "

The great third baseman

from the National League:

Harold Joseph "Pie" Traynor.

Mr. Double X...

the great star of

the Philadelphia Athletics:

Mr. Jimmie Foxx.

Paul and Lloyd Waner.

And, ladies and gentlemen...

the highest lifetime batting average

of all time...

first man elected to the Hall of fame...

retired with over 90 batting records...

the one and only Georgia Peach, Ty Cobb.

Mr. Cobb?

- Stump.

- I got you.

- Mr. Cobb, good to see you again.

- How do you do?

One more shot, Mr. Cobb.

Good to see you, Lloyd.

Sam Crawford, Cobb, long time no see.

Sam, it's good to see you.

You doing all right?

I'm still alive.

We're gonna have a hell of a party

this evening.

Big parties, Peach.

How you doing? You're looking good.

Rogers, I look like hell, you know it.

Stumpy, I want you to meet

Rogers Hornsby...

next to me, the greatest hitter of all time.

- How do you do?

- Next to me.

We'll tear them up good.

Nice to see you again.

Let's get this son of a b*tch on the road.

- Nice to see you again, Ty.

- Good to see you.

Welcome to Cooperstown,

ladies and gentlemen.

We are here to acknowledge

the greatest ballplayers of all time.

But the greatest of all is with us tonight.

Simply put, the best ballplayer ever:

Tyrus Raymond Cobb.

We've gathered from the archives

some special film on Mr. Cobb.

Lights, please.

This 1916 portrait shows us Ty Cobb...

in his Detroit Tigers uniform.

The Georgia Peach.

Note the smug expression

and the haunting set of eyes.

These disturbing eyes can be

seen in the earliest photo

ever taken of young Ty.

Turn the clock back

to the beginning of the century.

At that time, professional baseball

was a casual game.

Ballplayers were often clowns...

but young Ty Cobb would have none of that.

He turned the game into war...

and in the process,

invented the modern game as we know it.

The aggressive, attacking game

was virtually Cobb's invention.

Here, we see him running over

a first sacker on a drag bunt...

a play he perfected.

That's him. He'd take on the whole team.

Jimmie, that's the way we used to play ball.

You don't find these children

playing ball like that today.

Here, we see Cobb

with one of his five children.

That's Shirley. You remember Shirley?

She's a big girl now.

I love that house, Stump.

Stump, we gotta go see that house.

And here, he shows his son

his curious hands-apart grip.

Though he was unable

to teach his flaming, competitive heart.

Here, the pitcher makes the mistake...

- Stumpy, what in the hell is that?

- Why? It's a great film.

Look, there he goes, watch this!

It's great!

...and 54 times in his whole career.

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