Love and Basketball

FADE IN:

TITLE CARD:
"FIRST QUARTER" then "1981"

BALDWIN HILLS:

EXT. MCCALL HOUSE - LATE MORNING

An upper middle-class neighborhood, known as the Black

Beverly Hills. Big houses, green grass and Caddies in every

other driveway. The street is quiet, until --

YOUNG VOICE (O.S.)

You wanna be Kareem?

CAMERA REVEALS:
QUINCY MCCALL, eleven years old, dribbling a

basketball in front of KELVIN and JAMAL, also eleven. He

sports a fro, a "Clippers" jersey, and a serious swagger.

QUINCY (CONT'D)

All his big butt do is stand by the

basket.

JAMAL:

Shoot, I'll be blocking your stuff.

KELVIN:

I'm gonna be like Dr. J.

QUINCY:

I'ma be like my Dad.

JAMAL:

He ain't a star or nothing.

QUINCY:

I don't see none of your sorry daddies in

the NBA.

KELVIN:

Hey, look, Q.

Quincy follows Kelvin's eyes, to a beat-up pair of Converse

All-Stars approaching from next door. Walking in the kicks

is a YOUNG KID in a T-shirt and Tuff-skins, and a LAKERS cap

pulled low. A moving van is parked in the driveway.

KELVIN (cont'd)

Thought only girls were moving in.

QUINCY:

That's what my Moms said.

KELVIN:

I hope he can ball.

JAMAL:

Bet he's a scrub.

The Kid stops at the edge of Quincy's driveway.

KID:

Hey.

QUINCY:

Hey.

KID:

Can I play?

QUINCY:

You nice?

KID:

Yeah, I'm nice.

Quincy looks the Kid up and down, then --

QUINCY:

You and Kelvin gainst me and Jamal.

Quincy tosses the Kid the ball. The Kid pulls off the

baseball cap. Brown hair tumbles down, framing a soft brown

face and bright eyes. She is MONICA WRIGHT, eleven years

old.

JAMAL:

Ah man, he is a girl.

QUINCY:

Girls can't play no ball.

MONICA:

Ball better than you.

Quincy laughs derisively as Monica walks to the top of the

driveway.

QUINCY:

(whispering)

What a dog.

Monica shoots him a glare.

JAMAL:

She heard you.

QUINCY:

Nuh uh, they could only hear dog

whistles.

Monica starts to dribble. Jamal whistles as he walks

backwards, guarding her. She throws up a shot. IT'S AN

AIRBALL. Quincy and Jamal crack up. Kelvin rolls his eyes.

Quincy grabs the rebound and shoots. Swish.

QUINCY (cont'd)

One, zip.

He rolls the ball to Monica. She starts dribbling and again,

Jamal just backs up with her. She passes to Kelvin. Jamal

and Quincy collapse on him, leaving Monica open under the

basket. Trapped Kelvin has no choice but to pass it back.

Monica catches the ball and throws up a shot. It banks off

the backboard...AND DROPS THROUGH THE NET. The boys look at

her in shock. Monica tosses the ball back to Quincy.

MONICA:

One, up.

QUINCY:

Lucky.

Quincy easily dribbles by Kelvin and lays up the ball. He

throws the ball back to Monica.

QUINCY (cont'd)

Two, one.

Monica dribbles. Jamal plays her a little tighter. Monica

bounces the ball through his open legs and lays up the ball.

MONICA:

Two, up.

Quincy can't believe it. Kelvin cracks up.

KELVIN:

Aaah, she dogged you.

JAMAL:

Shut up.

The game continues, with Quincy and Monica trading baskets

for their teams. Quincy grows agitated with Jamal, who is

unable to stop her. The score hits nine, nine.

Quincy stands at the top of the driveway, ball in hand.

QUINCY:

Point.

Quincy dribbles through his legs, then pops an outside shot.

The ball bounces on the rim...and rolls off.

Quincy curses as Monica grabs the rebound and clears the

ball. Jamal moves to guard her, but Quincy shoves him off.

QUINCY (cont'd)

I got her.

Quincy defends. Monica smiles back at him.

MONICA:

Told you I was nice. I'm going to be

the first girl in the NBA.

QUINCY:

I'ma be in the NBA. You're gonna be my

cheerleader.

Monica suddenly passes to Kelvin, sprints for the basket.

Quincy stumbles, giving her a step. Kelvin throws it back.

Quincy knows he's beat as Monica goes for the winning lay-up.

In desperation, he swings at her for the hard foul, shoving

her off balance.

THE BALL FLIES FROM HER HAND AS SHE CRASHES TO THE GROUND,

FACE-FIRST. SHE GRABS HER CHEEK. BLOOD SLIPS THROUGH HER

FINGERS.

The boys stand frozen. Quincy stares down at her, his eyes

wide with fear...and regret.

INT. WRIGHT HOUSE - BATHROOM - LATE MORNING

Monica leans over the sink as her mother, CAMILLE, 36, wipes

the blood from her face with a washcloth.

GIRL'S VOICE (O.S.)

Eeew.

Her sister, LENA, 14, leans in the doorway, making a face.

She is a mirror of their mother, with relaxed hair and

painted nails.

Her father, NATHAN, 39, moves behind Lena, holding a box.

NATHAN:

How are you feeling, munchkin?

Monica nods. He smiles.

NATHAN (cont'd)

Yeah, you're through.

CAMILLE:

She needs to stop running around like a

little boy.

NATHAN:

She's alright.

CAMILLE:

How is she alright looking the way she

does?

NATHAN:

Camille, she'll be fine.

He gives Monica a wink, crosses away. Monica pulls the

washcloth away from her Mom and starts wiping the blood

herself.

CAMILLE:

I'll get some ice.

She exits. Lena shakes her head, follows.

Monica pulls the washcloth from her face and stares into the

mirror. TORN SKIN SURROUNDS A SMALL DEEP GASH IN HER CHEEK.

Seeing her latest battle scar, there's only one thing left

for this little girl to do. She smiles.

INT. MCCALL HOUSE - KITCHEN - DAY

Quincy sits at the kitchen table, writing "I AM SORRY" in

block letters across a homemade card. His face is tight with

concentration as he tries to write in a straight line.

At the counter, his mom, NONA, moves a cake from its store

box to a cake dish. She is 30, beautiful, with effort. She

smooths the frosting with a spoon.

ZEKE, 32, with the height and ego of an NBA ballplayer,

enters. He laughs.

ZEKE:

Girl, who you trying to fool?

Quincy looks up, smiles. He quickly grabs a piece of

crumpled paper, and tosses it to Zeke.

QUINCY:

Alley-oop, Dad.

Nona intercepts his pass.

NONA:

Boy...

She points him back to his card. Quincy scowls, starts

writing again. Nona scoops some frosting on her finger,

holds it up.

NONA (cont'd)

New neighbors.

Zeke wraps his lips around her finger, sucks the frosting

off.

ZEKE:

See, Quincy, this is how your Moms caught

me, with the old fake and bake. Had me

thinking I was getting a sister who could

burn.

Nona laughs, pulls him down for a kiss. Quincy suddenly

throws down his pencil in frustration.

QUINCY:

I can't do this sh*t.

Zeke and Nona pull away, stare at Quincy in shock.

ZEKE:

Boy, what'd I tell you about using that

word?

QUINCY:

(sighs, then)

"Can't" should never be in a man's

vocabulary.

ZEKE:

Why not?

QUINCY:

Cause when you say can't, you ain't a

man.

ZEKE:

That's right.

NONA:

Zeke.

ZEKE:

What?

(then)

Oh, and, uh, don't say "sh*t."

Nona just shakes her head.

NONA:

We should head over.

ZEKE:

Just you and Quincy, baby. I got a

meeting.

NONA:

With who?

ZEKE:

Business folks.

NONA:

You just got back from a four game road

trip.

ZEKE:

Nona, don't start bitching. I got maybe

two years left to play. I'm just trying

to put some things together for us.

Zeke grabs his keys.

ZEKE (cont'd)

Later, Quincy.

QUINCY:

Later, Dad.

Zeke exits. Nona leans against the counter, concerned.

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