Tin Cup

1.

TINNY CHEATIN' HEART MUSIC, the dull GROAN of a TRACTOR,

CRICKETS CHIRPIN' love songs, sporadic ZAPS from BUGLIGHTS, and an occasional random THWOCK as we -FADE

IN:

1 EXT. TEXAS - DRAMATIC ANGLE - SUNSET 1

Out west where the sun descends gloriously over desolatemountains. A sense of timeless and incorruptible beautyif you ignore the TWANG of the MUSIC, the SPUTTER of theTRACTOR, the ZAPS, the THWACKS... and something else...

... MEN'S VOICES. Garrulous with drink, fraternity and

amusement.

We PAN DOWN TO:

2 EXT. DRIVING RANGE - LATE DAY 2

A man, JOSE, is on the roof, wrestling with a ricketysatellite dish, stringing wire, trying to get it to work.

(We get glimpses of him throughout the scene as hestruggles with what is assuredly a pirate operation.)

Four of six floodlights nailed to the roof cast pools ofyellow into the gathering darkness. ROY "TIN CUP" McAVOY

stands under the swarm of moths crowding the brightestlight, hitting golf balls. THWOCK...! Launching them,

really, into the deepening night. There's a beer between

his legs. Behind him:

A group of men forms a semicircle, facing away from TinCup. These men are the range regulars: CURT, CLINT,

EARL, and DEWEY. Each man has money in one hand and hispreferred libation in the other. They're all lookingback and forth between the bug lights hung on the backwall, and muttering what sounds like bets to:

ROMEO POSAR -- a smaller man, he stands at the center of

the group with a handful of cash. Romeo is a part-timebookie and full-time driving range man. Born across the

river in Mexico, Romeo is Tin Cup's caddie, confidante,

best friend.

ROMEO:

Okay, all bets are down!

Their eyes rivet on the bug lights, edgy, hopeful,

until... ZAP! A BUG is ELECTROCUTED. And Dewey cheerstriumphantly while the other regulars mutter curses abouthow they woulda, coulda, shoulda bet.

2.

ROMEO:

Number one is the winner! Dewey

has the winner. Pays five to two!

Romeo quickly pays Dewey and more quickly takes money from

the losers. It's fast-paced, inane, time-killing

gambling. Tin Cup looks over.

TIN CUP:

Don't you shitheels ever get

bored?

The regulars flap dismissive palms and mutter in the

negative as they turn back to Romeo and the action at the

bug lights.

TIN CUP:

... 'Cuz I got a riddle.

Tin Cup leads the regulars inside.

CUT TO:

A3 INT. DRIVING RANGE - LATE DAY A3

Tin Cup holds court.

TIN CUP:

Takes about two ounces of brains

to figure it out. Anyone think

they got a brain with two ounces

of brains in it?

The regulars silently look at each other, reluctant to

reveal the heft of their brains.

TIN CUP:

For Chrissakes, boys! A little

self-confidence from the players'

gallery. We ain't talking long

division.

EARL:

(timidly)

How much we gotta lose?

TIN CUP:

You want to liven things up, Earl?

That's a hell of an idea. Say

everyone puts in twenty bucks and

the pot goes to whoever solves the

riddle.

DEWEY:

You going to get the riddle, Tin

Cup?

3.

TIN CUP:

(patiently)

Dewey. I'm the one asking the

riddle. I already know the

answer. I don't getta guess.

Although... We could say if I get

to five hundred bounces and no one

gets the riddle, I get the pot.

And I know what you're thinking.

It's an impossible riddle. Well,

It's not. It's an easy riddle.

And if somehow by the grace of

fluke luck I win, and you all

don't agree it was an easy

riddle, hell, I'll refund your

money.

EARL, CLINT & ALL

I'm in... We're in... Count us

in... etc...

TIN CUP:

Okay, a man's driving down the

road with his son and they get

in a crash. Two ambulances come

and take the man and his son to

different hospitals. Son goes

into the operating room, the

doctor looks at him and says, 'I

can't operate on this boy. He's

my son.' How's that possible?

(beat)

The clock's ticking boys...

Tin Cup begins bouncing a ball on the face of his wedge.

EARL:

Father didn't sneak back in,

right? He's still at the other

hospital?

TIN CUP:

It ain't 'Star Trek,' Earl. No

one beamed him aboard.

That eliminates the most plausible theory in their minds.

The men think harder.

EARL:

Well... if the father married the

son's daughter -

TIN CUP:

It's a family riddle, Earl. Think

clean thoughts.

4.

The regulars puzzle some more.

CLINT:

Give us a little hint.

MOLLY (O.S.)

The doctor's a woman.

All heads turn to take in the arrival of:

3 MOLLY GRISWOLD 3

Standing just inside the door -- she's a fresh-faced

beauty in her early thirties, and she's got all new

everything the sport of golf requires: new bag, new

clubs, new shoes, new clothes, new visor... she looks

like she stepped out of an ad in Golf Digest. And all

the men are asking themselves the same question: what's

she doing here? The silence invites Molly to supply the

riddle's answer.

MOLLY:

The doctor is the son's mother.

Feminists pose the riddle to

reveal how deeply our sexual

stereotypes run.

(directly to Tin Cup)

I take it you're a feminist?

Tin Cup misses the ball he's been bouncing, breaking the

spell. The regulars wait for Tin Cup's response.

TIN CUP:

Ma'am, I've been called a lot of

things -- but no one's ever

saddled me with that one.

MOLLY:

You might try being saddled

sometime -- the smell of leather,

the sting of a whip...

The regulars snicker, enjoying her one-upmanship.

TIN CUP:

(slightly taken

aback)

I'm just a humble golf pro...

MOLLY:

You're Roy McAvoy the golf pro? I

pictured something... different.

I have a seven o'clock lesson.

TIN CUP:

I thought I had a Doctor Griswold

5.

at seven.

They hurry out to the range, Tin Cup oblivious to hisgaffe.

And the regulars gather to look out the window -4

THEIR POV - THROUGH WINDOW 4

To the range, where Molly is stretching and Tin Cup isdiscreetly waving to the regulars to get lost.

CUT TO:

5 EXT. DRIVING RANGE - NIGHT 5

The lesson begins. Tin Cup can be slightly condescendingin these situations, though she's got him a little wary.

TIN CUP:

The first thing you gotta learnabout this game, Doc, is it ain'tabout hitting a little white ballinto some yonder hole. It's about

inner demons and self-doubt and

human frailty and overcoming allthat crap. So... what kinda

doctor'd you say you were?

MOLLY:

I'm a psychologist -- in layman'sterms call me a neo-Jungian, post-

modern Freudian, holistic

secularist.

Damn.

TIN CUP:

She begins unpacking one of her bags, pulling out everygolf gimmick on the market -- swing aid straps to pullyour elbows together, a ball pendulum that hangs fromyour hat, a metal contraption for your feet, etc.

MOLLY:

Inner demons and human frailty aremy life's work. I used to

practice in El Paso but I've movedhere now...

TIN CUP:

What're those?

MOLLY:

I ordered these from the Golf

Channel.

6.

He stares in disbelief as she tries to wriggle into some

of this stuff. He's enchanted and dismayed.

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