Jim Thorpe - All-American Page #6

What about that coaching job

down in Virginia?

That's gone, too, Jim.

In view of the so-called scandal

and notoriety,

they've decided

to postpone their decision.

Darling, I'm sure they'll renew

their coaching offer when this blows over.

I'm not waiting.

This job of mine gets tougher and tougher.

I'm gonna need help next year.

I don't want any charity.

They say I'm a professional

because I played a little baseball.

Well, I'm gonna turn pro

and really get paid for it.

- Darling.

- Don't you worry, Margaret.

I know what it takes now. We'll make out.

What a sap.

Working, sweating,

training to go to the Olympics.

For what?

Give them back the whole batch, Pop,

and tell them thanks for the loan.

Oh, Jim!

Jim,

did you see my signal in the last inning?

- Yeah, I saw it.

- Well, what was the signal?

- Bunt.

- Why didn't you?

He threw one low and outside

the way I like them.

- That'll just cost you $50, Jim.

- Why? I got the hit, didn't I?

That's right.

But you're a member of a team

and I run it.

When I give a signal, I want it followed.

Just remember that.

You were a little bit rough on him,

weren't you, John?

Maybe. But he needs the discipline.

If it's gonna be every man for himself,

we wouldn't even be able

to beat Brooklyn.

Well, come on. Oh, you're getting so big.

Is that you, Jim?

- Yes, dear.

- Hello, darling.

- Here, hold him a second, will you?

- Oh, sure. Sure.

Come here, fellow.

Come here to your daddy, huh?

Well, come on, look at me.

Has he had his bath today?

- Can I rub him down?

- Of course.

Come here.

Oh, you sweet little thing. What's that?

You're not gonna cry now, are you?

- Where's the baby oil?

- On the table.

What's the matter, huh? You unhappy?

Didn't your mama feed you yet?

Didn't she? You're husky.

- Margaret?

- What?

Isn't he a little soft?

I should hope so.

When's he gonna walk?

Well, he may be Jim Thorpe, Jr.,

but he's not gonna walk at eight months.

How did it go today?

I've decided to quit the Giants.

Quit? Why?

Well, McGraw and I

don't get along very well.

Oh, listen, there's a bunch of fellows

out in Ohio have a wonderful new idea.

A professional football league

and they made me an offer.

- There's a great future in it.

- Isn't there a future in baseball?

Listen to your mama.

What does she know about it, huh?

In football we can get out there and run.

Yes, we can.

We can pack that old pigskin

down the field, tear through the line

out into the open and nobody can stop us.

We don't have to bunt, we can go.

You, me, go. In the morning. Hunt buffalo.

Find them. Shoot them.

Kill them. Bring them home.

Cut them up. Cook them.

Eat them. Fill them up. Be happy.

Find squaw. Love squaw.

- Big happiness forever.

- Big crazy man, your father!

So Jim became one of the pioneers

of professional football

and its greatest star.

But now even football

had to take second place

to his son

around whom his whole life revolved.

Hey, what's this all about?

You can't run off the field

in the middle of practice.

We got a tough game Saturday.

I know, Tom. But I promised to take

the boy to the park this afternoon.

But it's not right, Jim.

If they see you go, they'll all wanna go.

You know these boys.

I'm sorry,

but I'll make it up to you another time.

Let's go, Jim.

Jim Thorpe, Jr.

For in this boy Jim saw the fulfillment

of a great dream.

The name Jim Thorpe

back in the record books.

The name Jim Thorpe again

on the trophies of great achievements.

Trophies and medals

which would never be taken away.

Yes, that was a pretty good jump

you made today.

Three feet, that isn't bad.

Hey, what's the matter?

Guess my nose is in training, too, Dad.

It keeps running.

Did I hear somebody sneeze?

You get right into bed, young man.

Okay, that's it.

One of the kids at school said

you aren't the greatest that ever lived.

He said it was some guy named Hercules.

I socked him.

- You did?

- Jim!

Your mother's right, son.

You mustn't do a thing like that.

A fellow's entitled to have his own opinion

without being hit for it.

Now you tell him tomorrow

that you're sorry. You hear?

Okay, Dad. But I can't tomorrow.

I'm going with you to Chicago.

Oh, yes, that's right.

Well, the first thing when you get back.

All right, now, off to bed.

Athletes need lots of sleep.

Here we go. Up.

Get those feet out. Head up!

Hold it. Attaboy! In you go.

- Good night, sonny.

- Good night, Mom.

- Sleep tight.

- Good night.

- Good night, son.

- Good night, Dad.

You were right, Jimmy.

That Hercules fellow, he wasn't so much.

I wish you wouldn't take him

with you tomorrow.

He's missed too much school as it is

with all this traveling around.

Besides, he's got the sniffles.

You know, I can't understand it, but

he doesn't seem to be very good at things.

Why, when I was his age

I could jump any fence.

Run faster than a coyote.

- But Jimmy isn't you, dear.

- But he's getting better.

You should've seen him in the park

this afternoon.

Why, he tackled me so hard he almost

knocked me down. Honest!

There are other things besides athletics,

you know.

Not for the Thorpes.

Did I ever tell you about my father?

When he was 50 years old

he was still the best man in the county.

And there were some

mighty tough ones around, too.

You still think this Thorpe's all right,

don't you?

Oh, Jim, don't, please.

I'll tell you what.

If it'll make you feel any better, then I...

I won't take him with me tomorrow.

- But you'll have to tell him. Not me.

- I will.

Do you think I ought to send

for my husband, Doctor?

He's in Chicago.

Course, I don't want to worry him

if it isn't necessary.

Well, there's no cause

for great alarm just yet, Mrs. Thorpe.

The current epidemic is pretty virulent,

but the boy is strong.

We should know by this evening

which way this thing is going to turn.

I'll be back later.

If it will make you feel better,

I'll bring a specialist for consultation.

- Yes, thank you.

- Good-bye, Mrs. Thorpe.

Can't you please try to put

this call through?

Mr. Jim Thorpe,

the Bellmore Hotel, Chicago.

Yes. Yes, please call me.

I'll wait here by the phone.

Here he is.

- Hold it a second, Jim.

- Sure. Come on, boys, get into this.

Good. Just like that.

- Once more, Jim. Big smile, huh?

- All right.

Thank you.

Wanna make a prediction

about the game today?

I don't make any predictions, son,

just touchdowns.

- All right, boys, let's go.

- Hello?

Yes. Yes, I hear you, operator.

I'm very sorry,

Mr. Thorpe's room doesn't answer.

Well, hold on a minute, operator,

I'll have him paged.

Thanks a lot.

This telegram came for you

a little while ago.

- Oh, thank you, Sandy.

- Lf it's another offer, Jim, take me along.

All I can say is, I don't know how you won

today because you were so lousy!

Thompson, Morgan!

You're getting under those punts

like a couple of school girls!

And the rest of you guys,

you weren't blocking,

Rate this script:3.0 / 2 votes