Gridiron Gang

GRIDIRON GANG (2006)

Most 16, 17-year-old kids,

they make a bad choice,

something gets broken,

they screw up in class,

hurt somebody's feelings,

show up at the prom drunk,

they get sent to the principal's office,

have their car keys taken away

or get grounded.

Then there's kids, they make a bad choice,

somebody ends up shot dead

in a parkin' lot.

Those kids get sent here.

- Get off me, homey!

- Hey, man!

I'll shut your mouth, punk!

- Weathers! Get off of 'im! Get off-a him!

- You don't know me! Shut your mouth!

- Get off me! Don't you ever diss my hood.

- I got him! Just get the door!

Goddamn 88.

Let's go, Weathers!

Go back to sleep, guys. Lay down.

What is wrong with you?

Sh*t!

G'night, Weathers.

Back to bed, gentlemen.

Mr. Porter?

Gettin' beat in the middle of the night,

how do you like it, Roger? You like that?

Whatchu hitting me for?

What'd you hit Kelvin Owens for?

He dissed my hood.

And now he's up there asleep

and you're stuck in here.

So what does that make you?

Hey, man. Can you do dat?

- Can I do what?

- Be smackin' me and sh*t.

I guess I can.

Sh*t, man!

Roger, you're 1 7 years old.

Where you gonna be in four years, huh?

I don't know.

Answer me.

Where you gonna be when you're 21?

Probably in jail.

What?

Look at me!

What'd you say?

In jail.

No. You're not gonna be in jail.

You're gonna be dead.

You're a good kid, Roger.

But you're gonna be

back out on the streets tomorrow.

Back in your hood with your homeys.

You wanna stay alive, you gotta make a life

for yourself outside of your set.

If you don't do that,

if you don't find an alternative,

you're gonna die.

If you want any kinda help,

if you want to talk, I'm here for you.

Think about it.

Man, the moon be playin' with me, dawg.

Locked up at camp, used to look up

and see it all white and clean.

And think how it's the same o'er here

in the hood, only it's all dirty and sh*t.

Look, man, you back in the hood now, man.

You best forget that moon.

Keep your eyes on this here street, man.

You're back, baby.

Yo, I remember this poem said once,

"The moon is a friend

for the Ionesome to talk to."

Damn, girl.

You got a poem for everything that come up.

Didn't I tell you she was smart?

Yeah, she so smart

why is she witchu, dawg?

Ya know,

I ask myself that question all the time.

There they go. There they go.

Yo, lil' homeys. 9-5s just jacked

my lil' bro's bike. We gotta get it back.

Yeah, man. Y'all got to come with us.

Case we gotta apply some force

to these niggas, man.

Man, don't look to her

when there's work to be done, dawg.

Look, man, I ain't got no heat.

I'm out here naked, man.

That's cool. I got a extra fo-fo.

Man, what's the matter witcha'll two?

What, you ain't ridin' for the hood no more?

Hey, yo, chill, C-Co.

Hold up.

So, whatchu wanna do here, man?

Look, man, if you wanna just chill,

we don't gotta do this, man.

There she goes.

Yeah, there she go.

Man, we wastin' time out here. Come on.

I'm cool.

Yo, man, this ain't no damn math quiz.

Is you ridin' or not?

Here, bro, you ain't naked no more.

- Come on, man.

- Let's roll out.

Put that sh*t away, man. Hurry up.

Where these niggas at anyway, man?

They 95s, right?

Yo, where these...

- Damn, man!

- See, the nigga ain't even breathin', man.

- Lil' Dove!

- Sh*t! He's dead, man!

Sh*t, man, the damn niggas comin'...

He's comin' back.

- Man, let's go.

- Come on, nigga!

Sh*t! Damn!

Damn it!

Roger!

Baby! Roger!

Baby!

Oh, God!

I saw the whole damn thing, officer.

Destroying the community.

Get all them damn gangs.

Drac.

Who did this?

95s, man.

One they call Klick.

Yeah, all right.

I know how it hurts. You and Raja

like lil' brothers to me, all right?

We gotta do right by him.

Me, I'll deal with Klick.

You put in work on his brother.

His name's Anthony.

Works nights, Parkside Market.

Free, let me go wit 'im.

I want to smoke some 95s too, man.

C-Co, this here is Drac's work. Right?

For Raja.

Oh, God!

Oh, God!

All right, put all reading and writing material

and games away.

Hey, come on, homes.

If I see it, it's confiscated.

- Sean.

- What's goin' on?

Back up a little bit.

Roger Weathers got killed

in a drive-by today.

I said don't rush me, b*tch!

See what happens?

What?

- Wassup?

- Get back! Enough! Come on!

Wassup?

Junior. Hey!

To the box.

I know the way.

You get your hands

behind your back, mister.

We got your back, homey.

That's the third time in the box

this week for Junior.

Back in your bunks.

Anyone else wanna laugh and joke

with him in the box? Is that it?

I'll send somebody's ass back to the box.

Christ, Malcolm, what are we doin' here?

We're like goddamn sheepherders.

We fatten 'em up and put 'em right back

on the street where they get slaughtered.

Tell me about it.

We're not even makin' a dent.

Willie!

Willie!

Where's Anthony at?

In the back.

Go, baby! Go!

Don't do this, please.

I got two little boys at home.

For my dead homey!

No, don't do this.

Oh, my God, what are you do...

Oh, sh*t!

Damn!

Where you been?

I thought somethin' happened to you.

Naw, I'm a'ight.

Bro, y'all gonna

shoot the boys killed Roger?

Dewayne, why would you say...

Just shut up.

'Sup, man?

Come here.

- Wassup, Ma?

- Here.

What's this?

- It was an accident.

- "Accident."

Accident? Why you keep lettin' him

do this to you, Ma?

Why you keep lettin' him back in here?

Hey, hey, hey,

whyn't you stay outta this, boy.

- Stay outta this?

- That's right. She know why she got it.

- This my mother. This is my mother.

- Who you talking to?

Naw, Mama, I'm sick of it!

- You better calm him down.

- He come and go whenever he please,

take your money and disappear

till he need more? I'm tired of this lowlife!

- Stop!

- Get off, lowlife woman!

I'm tired of this...

Show me some respect, you little punk.

Don't hit my son! Are you crazy?

- You better show me my respect!

- Don't you put your hands on him!

Get off!

I told you, you hurt her again...

You ain't got the balls to shoot me, boy.

Just leave!

Oh, God, no. No, no. No, no, no, no. No.

No, baby. No. No.

He's dead.

Listen, Paul, we convince a kid to stop

gangbanging, all we do is create a void.

And unless we fill that void

with somethin' better, we're gonna lose 'em.

According to the teaching staff,

the kids here have trouble being punctual,

responding to authority, being a member

of a team, and accepting criticism.

What one activity can improve 'em

on all these areas?

- You wanna start a football team?

- Exactly.

Sean, look at them.

Our whole system's designed

to prevent them from making contact.

Our whole system right now is a joke.

Malcolm, you're not buying into this,

are you?

Seventy-five percent of our kids

end up back in jail.

How much worse could it be?

Well, who are they gonna play against?

I'll find 'em high school teams to play.

Wait a minute,

you wanna take 'em out of the camp?

You really think you can trust these kids?

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