Golden Boy Page #3

You're a tough one

to figure out, all right.

So are you.

Sometimes you're like

a little girl in pigtails.

Sometimes...

Sometimes what?

There's something

about you so sad,

your eyes, your mouth,

even your hands.

Don't pick me

apart like that.

You mean, I look like I've

been kicked around.

Oh, no. I mean...

Say, they have concerts in the park

every Wednesday night.

Will you come

with me sometime?

Oh, hello.

What are you doing here?

This place is for business. You can't

train for your next fight in an office.

I did my work at the gym.

Borneo said I could go home.

This ain't home.

I know it ain't.

Any objection to my being here?

Save some of that fire for the ring.

We want you in tiptop shape

for the next bout, that's all.

You don't have to worry

about my condition.

You'll find me in the gym

tomorrow morning, early.

Funny kid. Like a firecracker.

Yeah.

I see trouble ahead unless

you handle him with care.

I can take care of him.

Lorna, darling, we've got the Pittsburgh

date, and there's the word clinching it.

All set, and Buffalo too.

Yes, and these are

real money bouts.

Boys and girls, I'm getting

to feel like 1928 again.

I can smell the dough all around me.

I've got that swimming sensation.

If you hear a noise,

it's my mouth watering.

Lorna, darling, do you

know what I see?

I see a penthouse

in your eyes.

Oh, yes, bread.

Excuse me, what you say?

Bread.

Bread.

You hear music?

Sure.

You hear me say, "bread"?

Joe.

Papa, it's beautiful.

Where did it come from?

You like it?

Like it? It's a Ruggieri.

I buyed it for your birthday.

Your teacher tell me it's one

for which you dream.

Oh, Papa, it costs so much.

You shouldn't have done that.

Play, Joe. Please,

no stop playing it.

How do you like

my haircut?

It grow back.

Play, Joe.

"Brickbat of the Week

to Joe Bonaparte,

hailed three months ago

as a new Mickey Walker,

endowed with a champ's

speed and cleverness.

KO'd his first opponents

in short order.

Today he dodges and dances,

pulls his punches,

and was lucky to get a draw

in his last couple of fights.

Is Bonaparte another

flash in the pan?"

Brickbat of the Week.

Fine publicity.

The guy is right. Bonaparte used

to have a punch like dynamite.

Now a mosquito

even stings harder.

All he does is box, tries to use

his head. Just a brain trust.

What's wrong with that?

I'll tell you in a capsule.

The people who pay to see a brain trust

you could fit into a telephone booth.

Tom, you know Bonaparte's

not a slugger.

His main value is his science.

He's a student.

Excuse me, Miss Moon.

In the prize ring,

the cash customers

don't look for students.

When I want a student,

I'll hire Einstein,

a wonderful man

in his line.

Roxy's right. Not only won't

the kid fight like he used to,

he ain't even been to

the gym in two days.

I've stood enough from him.

Now, I'm going down to his house and

find out what's wrong. Let's go.

Service.

Joe Bonaparte live here?

That's right.

I'd like to see him. Moody's my name.

My name is

Joe Bonaparte's father.

Oh, well, we ought to know

each other. I'm his manager.

Oh, I'm pleased

to know you.

Well, well, we'd like to talk to you

for a minute, Mr. Bonaparte.

Sure. Come inside,

please. Sit down.

Your Joe's a very clever fighter.

We wanna make your boy famous,

a millionaire, but he won't let us,

won't cooperate. How do you like that?

Sit down, please.

Why? What he do?

I'll ask you. What does he do

that's right? Nothing.

We offer him on a gold platter:

Wine, women and song.

To make a figure of speech.

We offer him magnitudes.

Yeah. Take an apple.

You like to have some fruit?

No, thanks.

Your son won't fight.

He fight for you, no?

That's right. No.

Your boy has unexplored

possibilities. Unexplored.

He's trying to say that Joe

keeps holding back

in the ring.

Hold back?

Oh, his defence is brilliant...

But what about the offence?

That's right. Where's the sense to it?

He thinks it's wiser to receive than

to give. He'll take but he won't put.

Hey, you talk too much,

and nobody's contradict you.

Everybody's contradict me.

Even you, and I never met you before.

I no understand.

What did Joe not do right?

They think he don't

punch hard enough.

He seems shy

with his hands.

Hands? He could hurt them?

Every fighter hurts his hands.

Could get hurt? Could break?

What's so special about hands?

I suppose your kid plays piano.

My boy's playing the best

violin in New York.

Is this on the level?

If I had hair, I'd tear it out.

Five hundred fiddlers stand on the

corner of Broadway and 48th Street

every day, rain or shine, and your

boy dares... How do you like it?

Joe's afraid of his hands

because he fiddles?

I don't know. Must be.

Moody, do something,

do something.

I'll do plenty.

No.

No, Joe no like

to be disturbed when...

Say, this is a surprise.

What are you fellows

doing down here?

So this is the way

you waste your time.

Never in my nightmares could I imagine

such a thing. It's an outrage.

For days you ain't been to the gym.

What's the big idea?

Now, take it easy.

And for weeks now,

you've been holding back with your hands,

carrying a torch for that violin.

You should've seen that bunch

of fiddlers on 48th Street.

Not a dime in the carload.

I don't like you barging into my room.

I'll see you both at the office.

Now, look here, kid, let's talk plain.

I got a contract with you,and it

reads you're to fight, not fiddle.

Suppose you bust a hand,

what's a busted hand to a fighter?

Now look, we're all

in this game for dough.

Take some advice from a friend,

kid, and throw that 10-cent banjo away.

Friend? You act like you

own me bag and baggage.

Like I'm a bargain you

picked up in a basement.

Well, I've been thinking

I might give up fighting.

I'm not convinced it's what I want.

Now, don't get on your high horse.

We're talking for your own good.

When we tell you how to fight...

If I fight, I'd fight the way I want.

That way you'll be through in no time.

Okay, I'll be through.

In fact, I'm through

right now.

Come on, Roxy,

I've had enough.

I never had any brothers either.

No?

Joe's got a sister, my Anna,

and Siggie, her husband.

He's A-number-one

son-in-law.

Come on, Lorna.

I hope Joe's no angry

because you interrupt.

He should be angry. My friend,

your son is no prize package,

you can take my word

for it. Goodbye.

Come on, Lorna.

Looks like they didn't do so good

upstairs. Goodbye, Mr. Bonaparte.

I would like to talk with

you more sometime.

You come see us again.

Thanks. Maybe I will drop around.

Yeah, hear Joe play.

Goodbye. I'm glad

to have met you.

What happened in there?

You both look ready for the morgue.

Lorna, you can toss me to the hounds.

It's all over. Bonaparte just quit.

Quit cold. He says he's not convinced

he wants to fight. How do you like it?

There goes our last chance

of getting married,

and my last chance of making some dough

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes