The Perfect Game

Fans here at Sportsman's

are glued to their seats

as the Cardinals and Dodgers

are even at two apiece.

Sal Maglie takes the sign

from Campanella. He winds up.

Here's the pitch! Whammo!

Musial's bat cracks off

at his fist

as he sizzles

one to Gil Hodges,

Musial is two for two!

Does anyone want a slightly used bat?

I... I was promised.

Promised? By who?

By Eddie Stanky.

Stanky's gone.

Mr. Tanner,

I've been working

on this shot for years.

You'll get other shots,

but this is the Majors,

and we need to bring in

somebody who's...

Who's what?

Not Mexican?

Look here,

when Stanky found you

you were a batboy

in San Antonio.

Hornsby hired you.

I didn't.

It's my team now, and

you'll do what you're told.

That's all, we're done.

I didn't get it.

Where you going?

Monterrey, Mexico.

Why?

That's where

my folks are from.

You don't know

anyone there.

Yeah, well I thought

I knew people here.

Cesar!

By the end

of the shift,

I want all

of this removed.

Hey you!

Boss needs

this slag cleared.

Sounds good. Why

don't you get it done?

Why don't you go

back to America?

I hear he can't.

Maybe he killed somebody.

You think you're better

than us, Mr. Baseball Man?

Look where it got you.

You'll never know what

it is to have anything

'cause you'll never

have anything to lose.

Cesar!

A few months ago,

his oldest boy was playing

at the Church of the Dead.

All of our boys did,

but his slipped and fell.

Our Father who

art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name.

Thy kingdom come, thy will be

done, on Earth as it is in heaven.

Give us this day our daily

bread and forgive our trespasses

as we forgive those who

trespass against us.

And lead us not into temptation,

but deliver us from evil. Amen.

Today, we command the spirit

of Pedro Macias into Your hands.

In the name of the Father,

and the Son, and the Holy Ghost.

Pedro was a good boy,

a very good boy.

By the end

of the shift.

You want someone? Take me.

These children

have nothing.

How can I give them hope?

Thank you.

And that's two outs!

Brooklyn Dodger fans are on their

feet for the rookie, Sandy Koufax.

The poor lanky kid who rose from the

streets of Brooklyn to the Major Leagues.

Koufax, studies the sign...

He winds up.

And here's the pitch.

Strike three! He's done it!

Koufax has just pitched

his first shutout,

allowing Cincinnati

only two hits!

What a performance, this kid has

champion written all over him!

Koufax studies the sign.

Ugh.

Mario! It's a Holy Day,

not a time for games.

If God didn't want us to play games,

he wouldn't have made them so

much fun! Right?

Will you shut him up?

I'm trying to sleep!

He has to practice

for choir.

Choir? You're turning

him into a woman.

You shut him up,

or I'll do it myself.

Why did you stop?

It's all right, Mama.

I'm finished.

Your Father's

not an evil man.

He just... can't

feel anymore.

Is he ever gonna get better?

I don't know.

Father Esteban says

anything's possible

with the help of God.

Ha! You're out!

I tipped it!

Boys. It's time.

Come.

Did so tip it.

Gil

Hodges steps up to the plate...

Do you think we have a chance?

Two outs, down by

three in the bottom of the 9th!

Enrique, I meant

this season.

You know the beautiful

thing about opening day

is today, every team

is in first place.

Yankees got lucky

last year.

Lucky? You call Don

Larson's perfect game, lucky?

What's a perfect game?

No runs, no hits, no walks.

No one

gets to first.

Yeah.

To me, baseball

is always perfect.

I imagine when you look

out from home plate,

the field

has no end.

And until the final out, you

can, you can play forever.

And only God can make

something infinite and eternal.

Si.

Snider hits a deep

fly ball! Back to the wall,

Our Dodgers have spirit.

And Duke Snider.

And that's why Yogi Berra says,

'It ain't over

'till it's over'

You're late.

The game went

into extra innings.

No. You're not on time

for dinner, you don't eat.

You got

chores to do.

Tonight you can

clean out the corral.

It's too filthy,

even for a pig.

Umberto.

When I was his age, I had to

help put food on the table.

Go!

You're not going

to find answers in there.

Where then?

God.

God took my son.

He sacrificed his

only son! We have Angel!

Angel will never be

the son that Pedro was. Never.

Angel?

Pedrol Pedrol

Pedrol

What are you doing?

I'm Sandy Koufax.

The pitcher.

Well, Koufax,

you just ruined

my siesta.

Koufax is a lefty.

And Jewish.

Yes. Yes. I'm Jew...

I'm Ju... Je...

Whatever you said.

Well, it hasn't

improved your aim any.

What do you know?

Hey.

Hey, where'd you get this?

It... It's from God.

You best take

care of that.

Can I touch it?

Yes, of

course you can touch it.

It's heavier than I thought.

Let me see.

Whoa.

It's like

a woman's skin.

Father. What does it mean?

It means God wants

us to play baseball.

Angel.

That's what

I think it means.

Me, too.

What happens

when we lose this one?

Is God going to drop

another one from the sky?

He's God. He can do anything.

Father, what

does it say?

It says it

belonged to a saint.

Wow.

Angel,

maybe next time you can

ask him to give us a bat!

You again.

Want to have a catch?

No.

Okay, I guess

I'll just

have to practice

everyday by myself.

Every single day,

right here!

Everyday!

All right.

Just this once.

Then you have to promise me you're

going to pitch somewhere else, agreed?

Wow. Who taught

you to pitch?

Cardinals.

In the Basilica?

Saint Louis.

The Saint Louis

Cardinals?

That's right.

You played

in the Majors?

Well, sorta,

I... I coached.

I'm a Dodger fan.

Yeah, you're

Sandy Koufax.

Quiet! There she is!

My girlfriend.

Oh yeah? Then go talk to her.

Yeah.

I have to wait

for the right moment.

How about now?

Enrique, catch!

Oops. A little help, please!

Hi, Gloria,

such a surprise!

What is this?

I... I... It's a baseball.

A real one!

Are these

your friends?

We are his teammates!

Yeah, we're

a real baseball team.

Best in Monterrey!

You know, they told me Monterrey had

the most beautiful girls in Mexico.

Too bad for you, we're

on our way to America.

Yeah, too bad.

So Gloria, I was thinking,

I could, walk you home or something?!

Sorry, my father

picks me up.

Ooh! Popped up

to the catcher.

How embarrassing.

Who do you

think you are?

We're the

Mexico City All Stars.

Can you read?

Sons of gringo

businessmen!

Why don't you play

with Mexicans?

With babies,

like you?

Who are you

calling 'babies'? Dummy.

Come on, guys.

I'll never

get Gloria.

You're not worth getting

dirty over. We're going to America.

America.

Father.

Sorry, but we need to make the team now.

Angel, what

is the hurry?

We're 12. See, we can't

play in the league next year.

Hmm. I see.

Well then, you'll

need a coach.

You could

be our coach!

No, not me.

Please.

You need somebody who knows

the game, not just stick ball.

I don't know anybody

like that in Monterrey.

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