Resurrecting The Champ Page #8

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I can make up the guest room.

You know,

it seems like everybody I know...

everybody I meet knows

"The Wow Man" except me.

The only image I have of him...

is a bus poster and some audiotapes.

I don't want that to happen

to me and Teddy.

I want to move back home, Joyce.

I'll do whatever you want me to do.

I'II... just do-

I just want Teddy to know me.

And you think because you're here,

he'll know who you are?

You don't know whether to run away

from your dad or to chase after him...

and the minute that you figure that out,

you're gonna stop running in circles.

Seeing Whitley...

it's the right thing.

Erik, you kicked ass on Showtime.

Congratulations.

- Thanks.

- Don't forget the little people.

Erik.

- Mr. Whitley, I wanted to-

- Come on in, would you?

...talk about my family.

I want everybody to know...

- that everything I've ever

done with my life- - Hello, Erik.

- I just want you to let me do the talking. All right?

- Erik Kernan, Riley Washburn.

It's a pleasure to meet you.

I was a great fan of your dad's.

I'd like you to meet my client,

Robert Satterfield. Erik Kernan.

I traveled all this way, Mr. Kernan...

to look into the eyes of the man

who dared to suggest in print...

that I was ashamed of my father.

The man you've been interviewing-

Tommy Kincaid-

has been impersonating

Bob Satterfield for years...

fraudulently fought under his name

for years.

There was even an injunction

brought against him way back when.

We've come to sue your ass

right off its hinges, Mr. Kernan-

you and this newspaper.

The author of the piece

in The Denver Times is Erik Kernan Jr...

the son of the legendary radio

sports reporter of the same name.

Kernan, who recently began a broadcasting

career, has not returned calls to ESPN News.

Reporters must be held

to a higher degree of accountability.

Apologies don't-

Apologies can't fix some things.

- You can't go around saying things

you did not follow up on.

- Great. Great.

- Nursing your wounds with a little whiskey.

- There's a clich for you.

- Well, what would you expect from a writer like me?

- Right, Ralph?

- Yeah, perfect.

A little humility.

And it's precisely too late-

- Hey, you know what? Could we change this channel?

- Yeah, no problem.

Just change it to, like,

Golf Channel or something.

So, Showtime, huh?

I saw you. You were good.

You're a natural.

You know what bothers me the most?

What's that, Ralph?

I only found out about this piece

when it came out.

You deceived me.

You set out to deceive me.

That hurts my feelings.

Ah, come on, Ralph.

Don't get like a chick on me.

The magazine is gonna

have to print a retraction.

How big, I don't know.

And Satterfield Jr.

Is going to want money.

- Could I get another one? Thanks.

- Yeah, just a sec.

- And S-Are you listening to me?

- Yep.

- I'm over here. Look at me.

- Yes, sir.

There's gonna be a settlement meeting...

at 3:
30 tomorrow afternoon.

You're expected to be there.

Okay.

You know,

Whitley's gonna be out on his ass...

on account of this-

his watch and all that.

And there's gonna be an internal review.

We're gonna wanna talk to your wife.

What are you talking about?

We want to make sureJoyce didn't

have something to do with this.

You know Joyce didn't have anything

to do with this. I didn't know about this.

Joyce is a brilliant journalist.

It'd be a damn shame if you somehow

sucked her down to your level.

Tell me.

Was it just sloppy journalism,

or did-did you know it was a lie?

- What?

- Yeah. Whatever it took to be worthy of your last name, right?

Here's- Here. Look.

That's Satterfield's obituary.

The Chicago Defender.

A black paper.

Misfiled, but it was there.

You ought to resign.

Save the paper the hassle of firing you.

That's for the bum.

People have been

sending him dough for days.

Ralph, he's not a bum.

He's homeless.

Nah, he's a bum.

- Champ.

- Hey, kid, how ya doin'?

- This is for you.

- What's that?

Open it.

- People who read your article

sent it in. It's for you.

It's for poor Bob Satterfield.

Well, people can be nice.

You're not Bob Satterfield.

Who says?

His son, for one.

Yeah, well, he always

telling people I'm dead.

The Chicago Defender.

Ike Epstein. You know him?

- Sure, I know Ike! How he doin'?

- He saw the tape, Champ.

You're Tommy Kincaid.

Bob Satterfield knocked you out

in the second round!

You made a fool out of me.

I didn't make no fool out of you.

Maybe you made a fool out yourself.

Why, because I believed you?

You put my reputation on the line!

I didn't know you had one.

I ain't never heard of you.

Yeah, well,

I never heard of you either.

- I'm Battlin' Bob Satterfield.

- Bullshit! Bullshit!

I've been Satterfield longer than

you been whoever you say you is.

Now just go on.

Ain't nothin' else here for you.

I can't believe I let

another loser break my heart.

I ain't no loser.

I fought Ezzard Charles.

I- I-I fought Harold Johnson

at the Polo Grounds.

Went the distance with Floyd Patterson.

I- I-I broke Marciano's nose!

- You're nothing. You're nobody.

- What you doin', kid? It's over.

- Just go home, okay?

- You're just another stumblebum!

Um, um, hi.

400 block of Curtis-

Yeah. Yeah, there's

- He got knocked out, and the guy's down. He's down on the ground.

It's a homeless guy.

Tell them-

Uh, yeah, this guy with a cart-

Because I work

for The Denver Times, and he's just-

He-He was a- He was a homeless man,

and he was an ex-boxer...

and, I don't know,

I thought it was a good story.

- Oh, yeah, you're that, uh- that

writer guy. - Yeah. I'm that writer guy.

- And I want to press charges, okay,

because the man is- - Officer, um, excuse me.

- I'm sorry. My- - He's a threat

to the community, is what he is.

- My husband is heavily medicated.

- I want him locked up.

He can't be expected to make

critical judgments at this time.

- We'll let you know when he starts making sense.

- Okay.

Okay. Uh, top one's from Showtime.

What?

Nothing.

Joyce, I don't need this right now, okay?

I don't need a lecture. All right?

I know I screwed up.

It's all on me, okay?

I'll take care of it myself.

Oh, well, you certainly demonstrated

that you can handle yourselfjust fine.

I mean, I get drunk and pick fights...

with professional boxers when I'm upset too.

Yeah.

What do you want? What?

I mean- Okay.

I'm a monumental screw-up.

There. Alert the media.

Oh, that's long done.

It's all over the wires.

Kernan, the great name

in journalism, sullied.

The Rocky Mountain News

and the Post have essays...

on your quote-unquote "colossal blunder"

on the front page tomorrow.

Great.

I went to see him.

At thejailhouse.

He wouldn't talk to me.

He wouldn't talk to the other reporters

camped out at the jail either.

See, he's protecting your byline.

He still thinks he's helping his friend.

He humiliated me.

He lied to you. That's his fault.

You're a journalist.

You believed him. That's your fault.

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