The Best of Times Page #3

I've got the Black

0range Roundtable.

As you know, I'm the CE0

of the new Potato Bowl.

You think I'm here on my own?

Who could you represent?

Taft. The entire god damn town.

I am throwing down the gauntlet!

Gauntlet, my ass!

- I don't believe this!

- Are you afraid, Colonel?

Poor Elly, ten years

ago I gave you a job

so she wouldn't be

married to a bum.

The day I hear she's

thrown you out,

is the day you resign

from the bank

and slip quietly

out of town forever,

- sort of like Kid Lester.

- That was a lucky punch.

Victories for the underdog are

aberrations of the universal order.

That's why I've had few losses.

The biggest was

you marrying my daughter.

She could have had Johnny "0".

You must admit she'd have been better

off married to this great halfback.

I wouldn't say that.

Bakersfield high

school football is my life.

And your tax write-off.

Tax loopholes are a god-given right!

Probably even constitutional.

These young men

are like sons to me.

Look at this.

Great men, great poses.

There's more to life than this.

0h, Jack, you can't even pose.

In your entire life, you've

done one significantly correct thing.

What was that, sir?

You dropped the ball.

You verified the order of things.

We accept the challenge.

Well, thank you, sir.

With all due respect,

we'll kick your ass.

You're replaying what game?

I'm sick of games and hearing

about some ball you dropped.

I'm sick of anything

with a ball in it.

Let me rephrase my intentions.

What I propose to do,

stated rather simply,

is to remake history.

Pass the lima beans, please.

We'll blitz like Dick Butkus

into the future and

throw a vicious forearm shiver on

the demon ball carriers of the past.

I don't want to talk about

Dick Butkus at the dinner table.

I told you that.

Who's Dick Butkus?

All American Linebacker for

the University of Illinois.

11 years all-pro with the Bears.

Now he's doing beer commercials.

And I still don't want

to talk about him.

That's fine, Elly.

But this town is headed

into the bowels of hell.

0nly a great victory can act

as an enema for its soul.

That is gross, dad.

Can I be excused?

Can't we stay at the table and

talk like other families?

[Doorbell play Taft's Alma mater]

Entre.

I'm sick of our doorbell

playing Taft's Alma mater.

- It's a great tune!

- Can I be excused?

I don't like your fights.

It's not a fight.

It's a disagreement.

I forgot.

Did you finish your

thank-you notes?

0ui.

[Crash]

You don't need those

sunglasses inside.

She thinks I'm a fool.

No, she doesn't.

I do.

I've lived with that

dropped ball for 13 years!

I knew you weren't happy.

0nly when you talk

about happiness.

The rest of the time

I never think about it.

That's why we'll kill Bakersfield.

If you play that game again,

you'll humiliate me,

you'll humiliate the town and

yourself worse than you can imagine.

You don't think I'll catch it?

I don't care if you catch it,

drop it or sit on it!

How can I live with someone

who doesn't care?

Jack, you're torturing me!

You call the meaning of life torture?

I hate it when we shout.

Me, too.

Jaki's out of the house.

Mr. Weasel's here.

Bon appetit.

0h, Jack.

Elly, I've got a

new move for you.

Show me.

It's part Smokey Robinson,

part Gladys Knight,

but it's all me.

Jack Aquarius.

Gotta, gotta, gotta,

gotta satisfy.

Sort of a white pip.

I love it.

I love that we can

have sex after fighting.

We do fight about stupid things.

Stupid?

The game. Give me a kiss.

Honey, let me clarify something.

Just because we're making

up after our disagreement

doesn't necessarily mean that

the terms of that disagreement

are necessarily resolved.

Am I right?

I've given you every Monday night for

13 years so you could watch football.

I've given you most bowl games,

excluding, of course,

the hula and blue-gray, which

coincide with our theater production

at the petroleum club.

You've been more than fair.

But for the last few

years and the last few months,

your demons have

become my demons,

and quite frankly, baby...

I can't take it anymore.

0hh. Who can?

And not to mention,

If you play that game again,

I'll have to put up with a whole

new batch of crap from my father.

0h.

I am playing that game again, EI.

Jack, if you play

that game again,

you're not

sleeping in this bed.

Honey, now who's torturing who?

It's a tough choice?

0f course.

I love you, but...

Take your pick, Jack.

Me...

0r the game.

Huh? Baby.

Which is it?

[Sounds of lovemaking]

[Bed squeaking]

[Moaning]

Get out of here or

I'll kick your ass.

That was a cat.

You've got an hour to clear out.

Don't be here when I get back.

Right.

0h, that's a nice sky.

Looks like Taft.

This time I think she's

going to leave me

even if I don't fix her car.

I know how you can

get her back.

No, you don't, Jack.

Yes, I do, Reno.

I really do.

Come on.

I want to show you something.

Pose for me.

What?

- Nobody could pose like you.

- 0h, my god.

Give me that one where you're

stiff arming the tackler

and your right arm's cocked

for quick release.

You can't replay that game!

You know what Schutte'd say to that.

"The words of Lucifer.

Are you horny to win,

you commie pissant?

Let's play some football!" Remember?

Gigi loved you

in the home whites.

And you had on those white shoes.

You were the only quarterback

in the history of Kern County

to have white shoes!

We'd run down that tunnel,

and photographers...

"Mr. Hightower."

Boom! Boom! Boom!

And the crowd going,

"Reno! Reno! Reno!"

They're calling your number now.

"Number 12, Reno Hightower!"

Pose... yes!

Don't forget the teeth!

0h, this means you'll play!

We'd get killed, Jack.

You can't remake history

without an offensive line.

We'll get an offensive line.

I don't want to throw

the football anymore.

I can't believe that.

I don't even want to

throw a beer can into the trash

'cause if I miss,

some jerk will say,

"Hey, Ren, what's the matter?

Losing the old touch?"

I'm not a quarterback anymore.

I'm a van specialist.

And I like it.

I don't want to play.

Get off your knees.

I'll buy you a beer.

You've put me in a

difficult position,

but you do owe me something.

You're not going to pull that on me?

Reno, you're behind

on your mortgage payments.

If you were our quarterback,

we might be able to arrange

financing for your shop.

You got no shame at all.

I'd like to tell the caribou tomorrow

I have the greatest quarterback

in the history of south Kern County.

Do I hear the variable mortgage

interest rates coming down?

17%. 16%.

0h. Coming back up again.

Tell the Caribou

whatever you want.

But I'm going to

tell you something.

You're a lowlife, blackmailing,

chickenshit squid.

"Lowlife, blackmailing,

chickenshit squid."

Welcome aboard, Reno!

Hey, Reno!

Are you still the caribou president?

Aaaoooo!

There's your answer.

Give me a beer.

Charlie, I got to ask you a question.

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