The Outfield Page #2

She doesn't exactly keep

us apprised of her movements.

Of course, right.

Sit down. Sit.

Where are my cleats?

Guys, Dad...

where are my cleats?

Joey, Tommy...

I need...

Get out of the way.

I don't know

where your cleats are.

I need to find my cleats.

- I don't know where they are!

- I don't know, man!

- Frankie.

- Ah.

Joey, you all set for Thursday?

This iron has seen better days.

Mom, it's okay. Mom. Mom.

Okay. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

- What time's the game?

- 12:
30.

All right.

Why don't you boys

stop by the diner afterwards

and I'll fix you

something to eat?

Sounds good, Ma.

Hey, Einstein.

Hey, he's a ballplayer.

Oh, excuse me.

Mr. Mantle, don't forget.

You got obligations

after the game.

What kind of obligations?

He's a big boy now.

Don't worry so much.

I just have to drive

them somewhere.

It's nothing big.

All right. Thanks.

Found 'em.

- Hey, Jack. Can we talk?

- Uh, not now, Dad.

Shh. All right, I'm hiding.

Why's your door locked?

Jack?

Hey, Dad. What's up?

Why are you so sweaty?

Oh, you know, I was just, uh...

cleaning.

Cleaning, huh?

Cleaning what, your teeth?

You missed a spot.

So Schoffman has

some concerns, valid ones.

He feels you need

to bulk up considerably

if you want to stay at center.

None of the other schools

seem to have a problem with it.

I think we need to discuss

moving you back to second.

I haven't played second

since little league.

Second's a much better fit.

It was a mistake to ever

move you in the first place.

But I made All-State.

And what about Austin

and Frankie?

What about 'em?

We're the Outfield.

I need them.

No. Come on, Jack.

The only reason

I ever moved you from second

was because I thought

being out there

with those two chuckleheads

might bring you a kind of...

They're not chuckleheads.

Being out there

with those two chuckleheads

might bring you a kind of,

I don't know, a comfort

after your mom left us.

She didn't leave us.

What's this?

Cal Arts?

I'm gonna kill Ms. Rachels.

Who?

Ms. Rachels,

the new art teacher.

You know her.

She thinks I should, you know,

apply to, uh, art school.

They have schools for that?

Come on, Dad. You know I draw.

And I drive. You don't see me

going to Daytona.

Wait.

Is this about your comics?

They're not comics.

Jack...

art is not a life.

I wish you'd take

that thing down.

It's the only thing

I have left of hers.

Sorry you had to hear that.

Are you mad?

I was recruited too.

Remember?

But I pushed it off for you

because I thought it was

our dream to start at State...

together.

It was.

I mean, it still is.

So can you explain

why you have that brochure

for art school?

I didn't even ask for it.

Ms. Rachels just gave it to me.

Then why are you being

so defensive?

Wait, Em, please.

Give me a reason to stay.

There's just so much

right now, honestly.

First, my dad wants me

to change my position,

and then State says

I need to bulk up,

and everyone says

I need to work on my swing,

but all I can freakin' think

about is,

what if the scouts

decide I can't cut it?

I'm scared

of letting down my dad,

but most of all, Em...

Em, I-I'm scared

of letting down you.

You never let me down, Jack.

You just shut me out.

I don't know.

I guess when Ms. Rachels

mentioned this school

all the way out in California,

it just...

it made me feel

like I had another option.

But you don't really want

to move to California, do you?

Nah.

I mean, that would be crazy.

Psst!

What are you doing here?

What is your problem, bro?

My problem is that

it's your free period,

and you should be coming

to the Dairy Fair

to get Freezies

with me and Frankie.

I know this new art teacher

is hot, but...

- Mr. York.

- Ms. Rachels.

This isn't

the boys' locker room.

No. I had the urinals

removed last week.

Touch, milady.

- Touch.

- Ow.

Actually, Coach sent me.

He needs our young

Mr. Sanders for something.

- What kind of something?

- Something important.

What kind

of something important?

Oh, something very important.

- Oh, something very important?

- Yeah.

Hmm.

Well, we don't want to keep

something very important

waiting, so...

We don't.

There you go.

Hey, Jack, did you get a chance

to look at that Cal Arts

brochure I gave you?

You know what?

I totally forgot.

Oh. Well, if you need help

putting together your portfolio

or anything

for your application,

just let me know.

Yeah, I'll let you know.

Don't you want

to think this is our time?

Don't you want

to think this is our time?

Maybe second base

is a good idea.

And break up the Outfield?

Hell, no.

Yo, so, why is Ms. Rachels

riding you so hard

about art school?

Oh, it's, like, the best

in the country or something.

I don't know.

She wants you to give up

playing ball for that?

While I'm out here

working on my homework.

Great.

- Hey, you're back!

- Yeah, we are.

Um, I was wondering, do you guys

have any batting lessons?

Yeah. Of course we do.

We just...

Oh, actually...

our batting coach just got

drafted by the Cubbies,

but I'll tell you what,

my man Jack here,

was just named All-State.

- Really?

- Yeah, um...

I'll tell you what,

how about I take you out

for a lesson, huh?

- You?

- Yeah.

Sound more grateful, all right?

Come on.

What you reading?

Why?

You want to ruin this one too?

Forget it.

You know, you were

really rude the other day.

No, I was just honest.

Those aren't mutually

exclusive concepts, you know.

Hey, Fancy Pants.

Swing through, and you're just

gonna want to elbow up...

Okay. Yeah.

That's gonna be what not to do.

So what you want to do is...

Magnitude of electrostatic force

of interaction

between two point charges

is directly proportional

to the scale of multiplication

of the magnitude of charges

and inversely proportional to...

To what? Tell me.

And spoil the ending?

That's your move, not mine.

Jerk. Just tell me.

I actually have no idea.

So what are you doing tonight?

You're looking at it.

Homework? On a Friday night?

Yes, homework on a Friday night.

Is there something wrong

with that?

So many things, I don't even

know where to begin.

Hmm.

Okay, super-awesome cool guy,

what should I be doing

on a Friday night?

Going to a party...

with me.

Oh, really?

Really.

- Well, okay.

- Yeah?

Kels, you're never gonna

believe what just happened.

- What just happened?

- Austin got hit by a ball.

Oh. Um, is Austin okay?

Nope. Dying slowly.

Well, we should probably

get going.

- How much is it?

- On the house.

Oh. Thank you.

See you later.

You bet ya.

- What?

- You know what.

What?

What was all that

"you bet ya" about?

Yeah, dude.

There is so much intrigue.

Don't you have somewhere to be

that requires you to tuck

in your shirt?

Knock 'em dead.

Can you technically knock

someone dead at an art show?

Mr. Sanders?

Oh, please. Call me Coach.

Oh, I'd rather not.

I'm Andrea Rachels,

Jack's art teacher.

The lady with the brochures.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes