The Fan Page #4

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He slipped into a coma,

and he never pulled out. I'm sorry.

- How come you didn't tell me?

- Like you take bad news well.

What am I supposed to say?

"Great news, the kid didn't make it."

That's all right, man.

Enough of these hospital gigs.

They're off the list.

You know what the bright side is?

You knocked the cover off the ball.

You're back.

The hell I did. It was a fluke.

I never even saw the pitch.

Let go, Tim.

- What do you want?

- How is he? He okay?

He's not. He's crying his eyes out.

What do you think?

- Come on, don't start.

- Don't you start.

You violated your agreement.

I called my lawyer.

I'm getting a restraining order.

- Don't start.

- No, don't you start. Go away.

- I've had it. I don't care what you want.

- Let me see him.

You had to bring him home?

What is wrong with you?

- I want you out. Tim, call the cops.

- I'm gonna explain to him.

- Come on, everything's okay.

- You bastard.

You motherf***er! You cocksuck...!

- Hey.

- Tim!

Tim, call the cops. He f***ing hit me!

Hey. Hey, slugger.

Slugger, I'm sorry. You forgive me?

- Hey.

- You left me.

I know, I screwed up. I'm sorry.

- You forgive Dad?

- Mom's got a terrible headache.

Well, that's called a migraine.

She'll live.

Look what I got for you.

I got your favourite pizza.

Gil, open the door!

- Gil, open the door.

- It's got pepperoni and mushroom.

- I don't like mushrooms.

- You can pick them off.

Is it true, if Mom marries Tim,

I'm not gonna be a Renard anymore?

- Gil, open the door.

- It's open!

- It's locked.

- It's open.

It's locked, Gil. Open the door now.

I'm calling the police.

You still worried about the tryouts?

I don't know.

Think I'll make the majors?

Of course you'll make it.

Remember what I said.

Positive things happen

to positive thinkers. Who said that?

- Coop.

- Damn straight.

He was the greatest player

I ever played with.

Gil, unlock the door.

Got you a Coke.

Call the cops.

Didn't you hear me? Call the cops!

Call the f***ing police!

- I can't drink Coke.

- Who says?

Mom and Dad. I mean, Tim.

The door's locked. It's okay.

Gil, open the door.

Hey, Art.

I said, " Enough of this sh*t.

You sign the contract right now."

He signed it. I swear to God,

on my honour, he signed the contract.

Hey, Gil, got a second?

If you do. It's 8:00.

- Shall we?

- There you go.

Sit down, Gil.

That's okay, I'll stand.

Chuck from McKinley and Everest

called yesterday.

Said they wanted to drop

their account with us.

I sent Figgy over there

to sort things out.

You sent Figgy down?

- Sit down, Gil.

- Yeah, he sorted them out.

He did it with my opening-day tickets.

What are you gonna do about it?

- He didn't steal your account.

- He did. What will you do?

We gave him your account.

I gave him your account.

What do you mean?

You're not getting

the numbers we need.

I know. It's been a little slow

last couple of months.

But that'll change. I've got

a new strategy. It's gonna work.

- Listen, your behaviour is unacceptable.

- What do you mean?

- People are scared of you.

- Why, because of the other day?

You cannot do things like that

in this day and...

I want your reorder book.

Outstanding commissions

will be forwarded.

My father started this business.

Look, perfection and principles don't

belong in business, not now or then.

- As a friend of your father's...

- Keep your mouth shut.

You know nothing about my father.

- He made this business.

- Your father made knives.

- San Francisco made this business.

- By ripping him off.

He wasn't a businessman, Gil...

...and neither are you.

That's the bottom line.

And so, in a Freudian sense, Jewel...

... the catcher is the father,

and the son is the pitcher.

that's fascinating.

Let me ask you.

- What does the bat and ball represent?

- Well, the bat speaks for itself...

... and, of course,

the ball is the ejaculate.

Thanks for calling, doc.

Who do we have on line two?

- Do we have anybody on line two?

- I believe everybody hung up.

Hey, man. Hey, you got a van?

Kids are breaking into your van.

Somebody's breaking into your van.

Stop those kids. Cut that out.

- What?

- Kids breaking into a van out there.

- Yeah.

- Here, this is for you.

- What's that?

- Take it. Take it.

- Take it.

- What is it?

It's for you.

It's a temporary restraining order.

- What?

- You have been s"erve"d.

Hey, man, can I use your...?

Okay, last one.

Good swing. All right, who's next?

Eleven. Let's go, buddy.

Hustle up there.

- Okay, pal.

- Come on, Rich.

Okay, watch the ball.

Good swing.

Next one, Richie.

Attaway, Richie boy.

- That's okay.

- He's throwing too hard.

He almost took his head off.

Hey, coach. Coach.

- Yeah.

- Slow down.

- This is Little League. Little League.

- I know.

- Leave him alone, Gil.

- Mind your f***ing business.

Hey, coach, mix in some strikes.

What are you doing?

- You're making it hard.

- I'll coach from here.

- Mix in some strikes.

- He's throwing strikes, Gil.

- F*** it, I'm gonna go down.

- Easy, Gil.

Remember, Ellen's got

that restraining order on you.

- The bat is too f***ing heavy.

- Come on.

You f*** with me,

I'll send your head into the outfield.

Go easy. You're letting the bat

swing him.

- Hey, hey, come on, you guy.

- Look how heavy this bat is.

Here.

Let go of my son.

- He's my son too.

- Don't remind me. Get off him.

- He's my son too.

- You are not gonna ruin our lives.

- Tim, call the cops now.

- I'm just trying to tell him something.

Get out of here. Tim!

You get out of here.

Can't you read, stupid?

The restraining order says

you have to stay 100 yards away.

- Tell him one thing.

- You can't come near him.

- I wanna tell him one thing.

- Get out of here.

- I just wanna tell him one thing.

- You better go.

Don't swing at anything.

Wait for a good one.

Step on the eggshell,

squash the bug. Okay?

You mind your f***ing business.

You're lucky.

Just give him... Give him something.

He's a kid.

It's okay. Play ball.

Bobby Rayburn again

failed to earn his k eep.

Almost grounding into

a game-ending double play...

... just beating the throw to first.

When the Giants

needed a pick-me-up...

... number 11, Juan Primo,

provides San Francisco with a lift.

And it was a big one. His two-run

shot over the left-field fence...

... scored Rayburn,

and the Giants went home happy.

That is, except possibly

Bobby Rayburn...

... whose lackof hitting is giving

new meaning to the term "three hole."

The way Primo's carried

this team on his shoulders...

... mak es you wonder who the real

$40 million player is.

Lanz came up with a big hit to drive

in a k ey run in the Giants' victory.

Jimmy has been a spark plug

during this home stand.

Motherfuck.

Ladies and gentlemen, now batting,

the centre fielder, number 33...

... Bobby Rayburn.

All right, Bobby, let's go!

All right, Bobby.

Strike.

Strike.

- Strike thr"ee."

- Sh*t.

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