Jim Thorpe - All-American Page #8

Bracelets with pretty beads.

Sell them to tourists

at the railway station.

Make lots of fine wampum for squaws!

Stop it, stop it.

- Raise lots of papooses!

- Stop it!

- Teach them to beg from tourists.

- Stop it! Stop it!

I see you're here, anyhow.

People that sleep with their clothes on.

I don't understand it.

She took everything with her.

Your wife left early this morning

and didn't pay the bill.

$27.50, Mr. Thorpe. $27.50.

Two-and-a-half weeks.

I warn you, we don't tolerate deadbeats

and I have the authorities

behind me on that.

I suppose it's some sort of a game

you two work.

She sneaks out with everything of value

and you wait to be thrown out.

Now, don't try any rough stuff,

I got the authorities behind me.

Just because you're a football player

doesn't mean to say that I'm afraid of you.

I want this room by noon

and my money before you leave.

$27.50, Mr. Thorpe. $27.50.

And don't try to sneak out, either.

The authorities are friends of mine

and we know what to do

with deadbeats in this town.

- Hey, where you going?

- You the manager?

- Yeah. I'm running the show.

- Can you use a back?

I can always use a back.

Why? You know where I can find one?

- I can go.

- With what?

- Try me.

- Forget it, old-timer. Beat it.

Hey!

Wait. Wait a minute.

- Aren't you...

- Yeah.

Yeah.

- You got anything left, Jim?

- I can still go.

- These kids are rough.

- I can handle them.

- Got your suit in there?

- Yeah.

Okay. If you start I'll pay you 10 bucks.

- Ten bucks?

- That's it, Jim.

All right.

- Where do I...

- You'll find some stuff in the locker room.

- Throw that bum out.

- Let's see some action!

- Let me carry the ball again.

- We'll wind up behind the goal post.

- Let me take it again, I tell you.

- Okay, Jim. Take fullback.

Thirty-two on two.

Hut, one, two, three.

He's out!

- Harrison for Thorpe!

- Harrison for Thorpe!

Here it is. Here it is.

The greatest dance marathon

in all history!

Don't fail

to see this phenomenal spectacle

while you're in Los Angeles.

You can see the greatest athlete

of all times in person!

Jim Thorpe, the great Olympic champion!

Couple number 17.

On the floor for 42 hours without a break.

Let's give the little lady a big hand!

This turkey's laying

the biggest egg in history.

Well, we sold tickets for this rat race,

we gotta go through with it.

But we don't need that cigar-store Indian.

Give him five bucks and let him blow.

I wanna call your attention

to our orchestra, ladies...

Hey!

- Hello, Jim.

- Hello.

Hello, Pop.

I saw the ad for this thing in the paper.

- It's been a long time, Jim.

- Yeah.

Last I heard you were playing ball

somewhere in the middle west.

Yeah, well, I...

I've been moving around a lot, you know.

- What have you been doing?

- I'm coaching up at Stanford now.

Oh, yeah, yeah. That's right.

I heard about that.

Stanford Indians, isn't it?

- You seem to stick with the Indians.

- Yes, I guess it's a weakness.

Who do you suppose came up last fall

to see the big game?

Little Boy. With his wife and kids.

They look great. All of them.

Do you ever hear anything about...

- Margaret?

- Margaret married again.

- Is she... Is she all right?

- Yes, fine. Fine.

Jim, that offer I made you a long time ago

still stands.

Forget it, Pop.

Well, I guess you know what you want.

I've got a couple of tickets for the

opening of the Olympics tomorrow.

I thought you might like to come with me.

No, thanks.

Why don't you just come

for the opening ceremony?

You mean all that flag-waving routine?

That rah-rah stuff?

No, I've had my bellyful of Olympics, Pop.

You can always walk out, you know.

Look, Pop.

Why don't you mind your own business?

Oh, come, Jim.

What's the matter with you?

Now, will you get out of here

and leave me alone?

It's been nice seeing you.

Well, I can't say it's been nice seeing you.

Somewhere along the line

you've gone completely haywire.

You've picked up the idea

the world owes you something.

Well, it doesn't owe you a thing.

So you've had some tough ones.

You've been kicked around.

They took your medals away from you.

So what?

All I can say is

that when the real battle started,

the great Jim Thorpe

turned out to be a powder puff.

Thanks for the sermon,

but you're wasting your time.

Yes, I guess I am at that.

Step lively, please. Tickets.

Tickets, folks.

Step lively. Okay. Tickets.

Have your tickets ready.

Ladies and gentlemen. This is the day.

The vast Memorial Coliseum

in Los Angeles is jammed

with over 100,000 spectators

waiting for the opening

of the 1932 Olympic Games!

Here they come,

the athletes of all nations!

And here comes the final contingent,

ladies and gentlemen,

the athletes

of the United States of America.

Ladies and gentleman,

the Vice President of the United States,

Charles Curtis, is entering his box.

Listen to the ovation

the crowd is giving him.

The announcer forgot to add

just one thing, Jim.

Or maybe he didn't think it was necessary.

Charles Curtis, Indian!

In the name

of the President of the United States,

I proclaim open

the Olympic Games of Los Angeles,

celebrating the 10th Olympiad

of the modern era.

We swear that we will take part

in the Olympic Games in loyal competition

respecting the regulations

which govern them

and desirous of participating in them

in the true spirit of sportsmanship

for the honor of our country

and for the glory of sport.

Well, I have to be running along, Jim.

I have some boys down there, you know.

Try to make something of yourself.

Be something.

You'll make your people proud of you.

Too many Indian boys take the easy way.

They quit school

and go back to the reservation.

- Thorpe, Thorpe, Thorpe!

- Thorpe, Thorpe, Thorpe!

There's only one thing

that really gets to me.

That's sports.

That's what I want to be, Pop, a coach.

But you're a member of a team.

Just remember that.

Charles Curtis, Indian!

All I can say is

that when it came to the real battle,

the great Jim Thorpe

turned out to be a powder puff.

Hey!

You broke our ball.

- What goes on here?

- I ran over the kids' football.

Sorry, boys, but you'd better get moving.

You're blocking traffic.

- Hey, I guess this patch is gonna hold.

- Blow it up and let's try it.

- Boy, I'd love to slug that guy in the truck.

- So would I.

- Here! Try this one!

- Holy smoke.

- A brand-new ball.

- A regulation leaguer.

Gosh, can we use it, mister?

- Whose is it?

- It's yours.

Oh, boy!

Let's try it.

Hey, wait a minute. Hold it, hold it!

Well, come here.

If you fellows are gonna use a new football

you ought to learn how to use it right.

That was a pretty bad play.

- What was the matter with it?

- Yeah! Yeah!

It was sloppy, that's all.

Why, you don't block a man

by pushing your elbows in his face.

You hit him with your shoulder. Like this!

And you, when you tackle a man,

don't tackle him around the neck.

Rate this script:3.0 / 2 votes