Ballers

- Good morning. Good morning. - Good morning.

Guys.

It's more embarrassing than anything.

Where the fuck's my stuff?

What the hell happened?

Hurricane Joe's what happened.

Category 5.

Fuck you!

I fucking hate everybody!

Holy shit.

Good morning, Spencer.

- Hello. - I'm Virginia.

Let me show you upstairs. Come on.

Am I fired, Virginia?

This is your new office.

I'm your new assistant.

Mr. Anderson will be with you in a minute.

And you're fine as hell.

Thank you.

A balcony. Shit.

Huh, how about it?

Tell me you love your new locker.

It's fucking dope.

Tell me where you hid the camera crew.

I don't have the patience for practical jokes.

So?

I thought you were gonna clip me.

Clip you?

My friend, you are the one who handled the Angela Lee situation.

You are the one who brought us big-time players,

most importantly, Vernon Littlefield.

- I hear his offer is huge. - Who'd you hear that from?

I make a lot of charitable donations.

Only way in this world to make friends.

I prefer to make mine the old fashioned way.

To each his own.

Spencer, you have shown me that you can right the ship

in the middle of a shit storm

all while preventing an iceberg like Joe from sinking you,

so I'm promoting you.

And where's Joe in all this?

Well, he wasn't exactly pleased with the new chain of command

and resigned in true Joe Krutel fashion.

The man loves a spectacle, I'll give him that.

Joe can be hotheaded sometimes, but I can't do this without him.

Bullshit. I'm dumping five million

into our new sports division.

I'm handing you the keys to the kingdom.

You can hire a whole team of Ivy League douchebags to handle the numbers.

It's not just that. Joe has connected with our clients

in ways that I could never have imagined.

Spencer, now is the perfect time to announce to the world

that Vernon Littlefield and all the other players

that you've brought in are repped by my new sports division

and Spencer Strasmore, future Hall of Famer,

number 92, is the man behind the wheel for me.

PR is creating a campaign as we speak.

Hey, champ, how's things?

Oh, you know, one of those good news, bad news days.

Tell me about it. Vernon finally checked in.

- And? - He doesn't want to sign his deal.

You gotta be kidding me, right?

I'd have to have a pretty sick sense of humor to find that funny.

- It's exactly what he asked for. - He won't even talk to me.

- You know where he's at? - Mentally, no.

But I know where we can find him.

All right, I'll pick you up in an hour.

All right. All right.

- Ricky! Ricky! - All right, listen.

Look, look. You did a good job.

Brandon, you did a good job today, man.

Way to keep your head up. Who's next? I got you.

- Ricky! Ricky! Ricky! - Wait a minute. Wait a minute.

Y'all, wait a second. What do you want it to say?

"To Shawn. Fuck you, Dad.

Your hero, Ricky Jarret."

How about we leave out the "F you" part, okay?

No cussing. It's not nice to cuss.

And I don't want your old man mad at me.

He's in jail for not paying child support.

"Fuck you, Dad" it is.

"Fuck you, Dad" it is.

There you go. Listen, did y'all have a good time today?

- Yeah! - So did I. So did I.

Y'all are great, all right?

Love this sport, keep God first.

- What do the shirts say? - Ricky's Runts!

- What do the T-shirts say? - Ricky's Runts!

- What do we say? - Stay fit, eat healthy!

All right, there you go.

How about an autograph for your biggest fan?

Yeah. Yeah, sure.

Uh, what do you want it to say?

How about "Sorry for shit talking you on national TV

'cause without you, I would not exist"?

Or "Man, you look good in that outfit."

How about "Go fuck yourself, asshole"?

Richard, that's no way to talk to your father.

I ain't talking to my father.

Oh, you can't talk to me, but you got no problem talking about me.

How much you want?

Look over there. You see that fine-ass Mustang?

That's your daddy's ride.

I didn't come here for your money.

I came here for a little conversation.

Hey, hey, hey, Richard, come on, man.

Come on, now. Don't be like that.

Hey, Spence.

- Hi, Joe. - What's going on?

Well, I stopped by Abuelas.

I picked up some Cuban coffee, some flan.

- You like flan, right? - Yeah, I like flan. Come on in.

Wow, place is nice and tidy.

Yeah, Mr. Clean is the man behind that shine.

Yeah, does Mr. Clean want to tell me

exactly what the fuck happened between you and Anderson today?

Nothing I wasn't expecting.

Joe, I'm your fucking partner.

You resign and you don't talk to me?

That fucking asshole.

You were the one who quit in a blaze of glory.

The whole fucking office has to have group counseling now because of you.

I didn't fucking quit, Spence.

I was fired.

Why else would I trash the fucking place?

'Cause you're a crazy motherfucker, that's why.

He's a liar.

Look, I admit it.

I can push the envelope sometimes, right?

But there's nothing crazy about taking our clients

and opening up our own shop.

I found a perfect spot. Can get a great deal on the lease.

Look, there's no way we can cover the overhead.

There's computers, furniture, travel, your fucking bar tabs.

Joe, I've got next to nothing in the bank. Zero seed money.

- I got some socked away. - Enough to launch a company?

Enough to convince a bank to lend us the balance.

Do you know how to run an entire company?

'Cause I sure as fuck don't.

If Kendall Jenner can run a fucking company, so can we.

Everybody has their own company nowadays.

In fact, you're nobody if you don't have your own company.

Joe, you got to stop flying off the fucking handle like this.

I'm not flying off the handle.

I was fired.

I expressed my objection to that decision.

Now cleaning up, moving on.

And I think you should come with me.

Ain't it a little soon for all this?

We'll just take back what we don't use.

Like you say at the dealership,

deals like this won't last.

Now, baby, this is the Wombat, okay?

It is the Lamborghini of baby carriages.

Now you can finally keep up with Ricky.

Hey, it's Mr. Siefert from the Dolphins.

Answer it.

Hey, Mr. Siefert. How you doing?

Doing good, Charles. How you feeling?

Feeling like I let you down the other day.

I really wasn't at my best

and I don't know if I've ever been worse.

I'm not gonna lie to you, Charles.

You got a lot of rust on you.

Peyton Manning once said, "Play till you suck."

You, my friend, definitely do not suck.

What do you mean I don't suck?

In fact, I want you to suit up for the Dolphins this season.

- I don't suck. - You don't suck!

- I'm so proud of you. - Yes!

You don't suck.

That went well.

You said some unflattering things about me, Richard.

My name is Ricky, all right?

And it's the only thing you gave me to say.

I mean, back when we were in the league,

we talked to the media about football instead of airing our dirty drawers.

I didn't know Glazer was gonna ask me about you, but I'm glad he did.

I'm glad people know what you all about now.

But airing your family business in the public eye, it ain't cool, son.

And you have no right to call me son, Dennis.

Now, look, life was real sweet before.

But now I got reporters who want to interview me.

My barkeep won't serve me. My barber won't shave me.

And my old lady done kicked me out,

put me on the couch in my own damn house.

And Korean girls are supposed to be docile.

- I mean, it's a nightmare, Richard. - Your life is a nightmare?

Well, imagine what mine is like not having your love,

huh, your respect, or your guidance.

- Would you stop being such a baby? - I am not a baby.

All right? You're looking at a man.

Well, stop whining about what you don't got.

I mean, God damn, I can't believe you sitting up there

and you can't appreciate what the hell I done gave you.

Exactly what the fuck did you give me, huh, besides heartbreak?

All right? The feeling of being unwanted, not good enough?

I put that chip on your shoulder, boy.

I gave you that fire in your heart.

Come on, you think I knew my daddy?