Resurrecting The Champ Page #7

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Some mornings I wake

up, I think I'm dead too.

Yeah.

No, seriously though.

I just- I need something, uh...

that I can prove

that you're Bob Satterfield with.

What did you say your name is again?

Erik Kernan.

- Can you prove that?

- Well, I have a driver's license with my picture on it.

- Well, who took that picture?

- The D.M.V.

And how did they know

you was who you said you was?

Well, from my last driver's license

with my last picture on it.

Oh! And who took that picture?

You see where I'm going with this?

No, Champ.

I don't- I just-

I need- How about a passport?

Do you have a passport?

Um, any-

I don't know.

Anything with your picture...

And your name on it.

Denver Times! "Resurrection

of the Champ," by Erik Kernan.

- That's what I got.

- Yeah.

Except for

that-that-that video you got.

Where'd you get this?

I have a great research assistant.

SatterfieldKincaid. I was there.

No sh*t? You were there?

- Really?

- South Bend.

I went to all the Satterfield fights.

That boy could punch.

I knew-

I mean, he showed me his scar.

His father did it to him when he

was nine years old. It's the same guy-

That's the man you interviewed?

- Yeah.

- The one with the scar? You're sure about that?

Yeah. Battlin' Bob Satterfield.

That's Kincaid.

- No-

- Satterfield's the other one.

You've been had, son.

Who would it hurt?

You, for one.

It wouldn't hurt me

if nobody knew about it.

Oh, is that an option,

that nobody will know about it?

Joyce, let me ask you a question, okay?

How many newspapers print articles with

errors of fact in them every day in the U. S?

It's already done, Joyce.

It's printed. It's out there.

Then print a retraction.

I can't just do that.

People have sent in money to Champ.

- Then give it back.

- I can't.

I don't know

where half of it comes from.

It's not just the money.

The Showtime job?

Joyce, the point of the article

is still true.

Okay, Erik. It's a lie.

I mean, if you profit by a lie,

then you're the same as a liar.

If you write a great story

but it's a lie...

then you'rejust a liar

who writes great stories...

which is worse than an ordinary liar...

because people who can write

ought to be better than your average liar.

So, you're a liar, and you let me down,

and you let everyone else...

who works on this paper down

because you ought to be better than that.

Is that simple enough?

- No, Joyce, that's not simple enough.

- Then let me put it another way.

You need to behave

as ifTeddy was watching.

And the winner, by a technical knockout...

one minute, six seconds

into the second round, Leo McCracken!

Hey, Leo! Leo!

Hey. So-

Leo McCracken-

Hey, Leo- Leo McCracken,

the new heavyweight champ-

- Oh, look, look, look, look, look! Who's that? Who's that?

- That's Daddy.

- It's your Daddy?

- He lived up to his nickname tonight.

Say something to your fans.

First- First I want to say

"Thank you, Jesus. "

I want to say thank you

to my trainer, Tommy McCracken...

and my brother and father 'cause they used

to beat the living crap right out of me.

And, Erik- Man, you always

believed in me, didn't you?

- Hard not to believe in 22-0.

- Yeah, you did! Yeah! Whoo!

- I get my mike back.

- Take that.

- Thank you.

- Number one.

- Looks like about all we're gonna get out ofhim tonight.

- Number one!

It's gonna be a long night for Leo McCracken

- one of the best nights of his life.

I love you, Teddy.

"I love you, Teddy. "

Hey. Hey.

Boy Wonder.

You were terrific.

Sit.

Thanks, Miss Flak. I, uh-

That was fun.

That was a lot of fun.

- Do you mind?

- No, not at all.

What a city. The only place

where you can do harm to yourself...

and others

and smile all the way.

"Fun. " That's good.

- Fun is what it's all about. I'm glad you

had a good time. - I did. I did. I'm not-

- You want a drink?

- Sure, yeah.

- I'll take a scotch on the rocks, please. Thank you.

- Yes, sir.

They're all watered down.

But they keep 'em coming, God bless.

- Mmm. So-

- Yes?

Do you think we can turn this one-night

stand of ours into a torrid love affair?

I'd like that.

Very much, very much.

Where's the smile, Erik?

Well, I guess it's just that, uh...

I'm not sure what I... actually did.

You were great. Photogenic.

Well, thank you.

That's the beauty of television.

You don't have to do anything. Just be.

So they tell me your old man was

some sort of boxing hotshot, a real poet.

Yeah, yeah. He was, um-

- One scotch.

- Thank you.

So, if we're gonna do this,

if we're gonna make a deal...

um-

Of course I need to continue

with my journalism.

Um- So I can only work part-time

at the most.

Well, this is a full-time gig, Erik,

with full-time pay.

Take a good look at me.

Are you looking?

Yeah.

Does it look like I know

the first thing about boxing?

Does it look like I know the difference

between a hook and an uppercut...

or what a standing eight count is

or what a holding penalty is?

See, I don't have to know

what any of that is...

because Showtime

has a parade of boxing experts.

We spend a fortune being the best

in the world at this.

But I am the head of casting, Erik...

and I am here to help Showtime

do what it does best...

and that is entertain the sh*t

out of its audience.

Because in the end, absolutely everything

is about entertaining the audience.

There is no journalism anymore.

There's no news.

The people who cling to the hopes

that they can inform the world...

are only slightly less naive

than the people who think...

they can pray their way

out of a tsunami.

And do you know

the one thing people don't want?

Is the truth.

This guy who won-

McCracken.

Do you think anybody really wants to know

how badly his brains got mangled tonight?

How badly his manager

is gonna rip him off...

or how bad his life's

gonna be in a few years?

Maybe end up on the street

like your bum?

The answer is "no. "

It's "no. "

Men want to see triumph,

and women, well-

Here you are,

with just enough credibility...

to make their husbands not resent you.

Oh. That's-

That doesn't sound

like much of a job at all.

Well, it never does

until it actually is a job.

Who's Teddy, by the way?

- He's my son. He's six.

- Mm.

- I bet he's a cutie-pie.

- He is.

And proud as hell of you tonight.

So...

would you like to come

have a drink in my suite?

No. You know what?

I'm gonna catch the last flight out,

but thank you.

Mm.

Monday we'll talk.

Hey.

Hey.

I took the last flight out.

Wanted to see if I could catch Teddy.

All the lights were off.

Well, not unusual at 1:00

in the morning.

- Did you let him watch it?

- Are you kidding?

Night of his life,

seeing his dad on Showtime.

What'd you think? How'd I do?

You did exactly

as I thought you would.

Joyce, I can't get it off my brain.

That's because you're decent.

I'm gonna speak to Whitley tomorrow.

I'm gonna drop the bomb on him.

Good.

I'm so fired.

It's cold.

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