Everyone's Hero Page #3

so I guess we'll never know. Too bad.

- Come on, boys.

- All aboard!

Hey, wait, wait.

Where are you taking me?

Take a head count

when you get inside, okay?

- I think that's him.

- Let's call the cops.

I'm not sure. Take a closer look.

- Wow!

- Is it him?

There's a horse jumping off a diving board.

Wait, I think that's Eleanor Roosevelt.

Screwie, is it Lefty or not?

Take a quick look as you roll yourself back.

Roll myself back from...

Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!

Ow, what a headache! Nope. No.

Hello.

No.

Did you see him?

Third row, aisle seat.

Where are you going?

Good. You got it,

now take me back to the sandlot.

Oh, no!

Huh?

Uh-oh.

Oh, rats!

Oh, no!

Good. That thing's brought us

nothing but trouble.

Hey, you!

Stop right there.

I'm a ball.

I'm probably gonna survive this,

but you, you're a squishy little kid.

Whoa.

Screwie.

Yankee, help me!

Give me back my box, kid.

Huh?

Oh!

Huh?

Oh, yeah, the kid's still got the moves.

Sir, I need to see your ticket!

Whoa!

Whoa!

Whoa!

Whoa!

Kid, you're gonna get such a time-out.

The fun's over, you little punk.

Screwie, hang on!

Gotcha!

Hey, you...

Hit him! Use your elbow.

Kicking is good.

Oh, that can't feel good.

Doesn't really hurt so bad.

Wait. Yes, it does hurt.

Here it comes. Oh, yeah.

Oh!

But I need to get to New York.

New York? That way.

You can buy yourself a ticket inside.

Oh, great.

No tickets, no train, no sandlot.

What could be worse?

Well, at least I got the bat.

- Oh, here she goes again.

- Help me, somebody. Help me.

I'm not supposed to be here.

Help me!

Whoa, sister, relax.

You're a hunk of wood,

not the Hope Diamond.

Do you know who I am?

I am Darlin', honey. I'm the Babe's bat.

Born of a 1000-year-old tree

on the side of Mount Olympus.

Struck by lightning,

and carved by monks using

the horn of a unicorn.

Since when do monks make baseball bats?

- Are you calling me a liar?

- No, of course not.

In fact, I was made

from the hide of Seabiscuit,

and stitched together by Betsy Ross!

Screwie was in the Major Leagues, too.

He'd have been a home run ball,

if he hadn't fouled out.

- Oh.

- Kid, don't.

A foul ball? Really?

Well, isn't that impressive.

I've hit thousands of guys

that were better than you.

You know, you bats are all prima donnas.

You only come out

three or four times a game,

carried to the plate and back.

"Oh, don't let me lay in this dirt.

Where's my batboy?"

Well, here's what you know.

I don't need anybody to carry me around.

I can handle myself. Put me down.

- Put me down!

- Whoa!

Okay.

So long, farm team.

Excuse me.

Two.

You know something?

If you think

I'm rolling all the way to Chicago,

you've got another thing coming.

You may pick me up.

If, in fact, you're rescuing me,

then I assume that you are returning me

to my rightful owner, Mr. Babe Ruth,

who, as I'm sure you're aware,

is currently in Chicago

playing in the World Series.

You have heard of the World Series,

haven't you, ball?

Oh, yeah,

I've heard of the World Series.

But we ain't going to Chicago,

we're going to New York.

New York? Why?

I just told you Babe is in Chicago.

When Lefty stole you, my dad got fired.

If I take you to New York,

then he'll get his job back.

Oh, no, no, no.

You gotta take me to Babe.

Hey, table leg,

don't put any crazy ideas into his head.

We are not going to Chicago.

We are going to New York.

That's it. The baseball has spoken.

- But...

- I said, "The baseball has spoken. "

Fine, that's all right with me.

I just happen to know that

Mr. Babe Ruth is a generous man,

and I'm sure he could get

your daddy's job back.

Maybe even with a big raise.

But y'all want to go to New York,

we'll go to New York.

Only you can make that decision.

Oh, Stanley, where could he be?

This is all my fault.

I was too hard on him.

How will we ever find him?

I think it's time to call the police.

Ouch! Ouch!

Is that our train?

I don't think so.

Oh.

I know that smell.

Kid, kid, wake up.

Wake up.

- Hey, what do you...

- Quiet.

Lefty's here.

Oh, no.

Get it back some...

Oh, he's gonna be sorry.

I'll have a non-fat mochaccino, please.

Quiet, tentpole. It's the bad guy.

...use his head for batting practice.

Whack, whack, whack, whack, whack.

Babe Ruth, stop hitting yourself.

Seriously, why are you

hitting yourself, Babe?

- What?

- Hello, Mr. Cross, it's Lefty Maginnis.

Ah! Lefty.

I've been expecting your call

for several hours.

- From now on, we have to talk in code.

- What?

Are you on the way to Cairo?

- I thought you wanted me in Chicago.

- It's ode-kay, you idiot-ay!

Do you have

our little wooden friend with you?

Yeah, yeah, I've got the bat right here.

Listen.

- And no one even suspects us.

- Us?

Raoul, there is no "us. "

If you get caught,

I don't know anything about this.

- Absolutamente not.

- No, Mr. Cross, I just meant

they blamed it on some janitor and his kid.

Get this. They fired the guy.

We're... I mean, I'm in the clear.

So, now that I have the bat

I'm pitching in the Series, right?

Not so fast, Raoul.

When you make the delivery,

we can discuss your compensation.

- Oh, but Mr. Cross.

- I look forward to seeing the package.

Oh, what's wrong, little Babe Ruth

bobble-head? You don't approve?

You look a little groggy. Are you?

Well, perhaps you can use

a seventh-inning stretch.

Yeah.

Ow.

Ow.

Wait till I get...

- Bottom of the ninth, kid.

Train!

Yankee!

Holy cow!

Mama!

Now, what?

We're going to Chicago, silly.

We head for New York,

right, kid?

I don't know. Just let me think.

Why don't we flip a coin?

Heads, we go to New York.

Tails, we burn the bat.

Now, that was rude and uncalled for.

What's that?

- Wolves?

- Wolves?

We're in Pittsburgh.

Wolves are too scared

to come to Pittsburgh.

Oh, kid.

- Screwie!

Help! Help!

Run, Yankee.

Forget him. Run. Save me.

Don't eat me.

You don't know where I've been.

The stench!

I bet even dogs think you have dog breath.

Ow!

- Hey.

- Screwie.

Screwie.

Remember, protect me at all costs.

All right, all right.

I'm doing the best I can with what I got.

- Who are these guys?

- I think they're pirates.

- In Pennsylvania?

- Pittsburgh Pirates, okay?

Huh?

Sorry.

I was just looking for my ball.

Oh, you mean this?

- Whoa.

- Hey.

- Daisy, easy with that.

Come on, play dead.

Sit, sit. Oh, for crying out loud.

Don't worry, she won't go far.

Not with dinner almost ready.

Louie, I think we have a guest.

Mmm. This is good.

What's your name, son?

- Yankee Irving, sir.

- Yankee?

Yankee Irving. I like that name.

Hey, kid, it's a pleasure to meet you.

Hey, hey, quit it, will you?

Hmm. Mmm.

- Are you guys...

- Bums?

No.

- No, we're not bums.

- I'm a bum.

Yes, Jack's a bum.

But the rest of us

have just fallen on hard times.

Perfect.

Don't move a muscle, Jack.

For the

New York Yankees.

I got it! Hey, guys, the game is on!

The game. Babe.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes