You Gotta Believe

Come on, Walker!

Let's go, buddy!

Nice one, Jack.

Oh!

Aw, man, the popcorn.

Really poppin' throw, bro.

Dude, I know!

Is that a forced error?

His old man forced him to play ball.

Just mark it down as an error, Patton.

Hey, Jon, can we at least finish up

the season with a shred of dignity?

-That is, if you're not too busy. -Sorry,

I gotta finish all this up by Monday.

Besides, I'd say we're looking

pretty good and whupped here, right?

What are you talking about?

-We still got a chance. -Really?

Look at the score.

-I'm just being realistic. -Come on!

You don't understand numbers, Bobby.

Hey, you know I'm dyslexic.

That's true.

I mean, it's statistically impossible to win this game,

especially with this lineup.

Peter!

No sleeping in the dugout.

Gotta stay awake, Pete.

Hey, what do you want me to do?

Conjure up miracles out here?

Remember what you said to me at the beginning of the season?

That I was Yogi Berra

to your Sparky Anderson.

No, I don't.

You ever feel like you're in prison?

Ump, time!

Time? They don't even have signals.

And they're having a meeting on the mound.

Why're you calling time-out, Scooter? It's nine to nothing.

Because, you're not throwing the pitches I'm calling.

We don't have pitches.

I'm trying to get it across the dang plate.

Listen, just nick that batter where it counts, all right?

We'll get out the inning on a run limit,

and if he charges the mound,

I'll take him out like a black cur on a wild pig.

Real smart, Mitchell.

How'd that work out for you last time?

Well, coming from someone who's scared of the dang ball,

I don't think I have to answer that condescending question.

Now, I want you to throw one right at his nugget.

No, dude, you'll be thrown out of the game.

That might be a good thing.

Then you can go sit with Caroline.

I swear, Mark, I'll cram a french fry

in your earhole if you even try.

How you two came from the same parents

should be on Unsolved Mysteries.

-Focus, guys. -Hey!

This ain't helping. Get back out in the field.

Wrap it up, guys.

Yeah, that's enough with the... come on!

Your pitcher throws like a string bean flicking a booger.

-Play ball! -Come on, Walker!

Come on, Walker!

-Oh... -You, you're gone!

-It was an accident. -That's the inning.

-That was your third and final warning. -What happened?

He said Walker beaned the guy.

Aren't you gonna say something to the ump, Dad?

I didn't mean it!

All right, well, I didn't...

I don't know. G-Go sit over there with your mom.

-We'll get you a snack soon. -All right, guys.

Patton, you're up. Mark, you're on deck.

-I think it's the other way. -Mark's up. I'm on deck.

That's what I said, son. Let's go.

That's what he said. Come on, guys.

-Strike! -Good eye, Mark. Good eye.

What's he doing? What's he looking at?

-Caroline. -Who's Carol Anne?

-Scooter's sister. -Scooter's sister?

She helping him with his batting?

-Dang it! -Strike two!

He didn't even swing at it.

-What's he looking at? -I think Caroline.

Oh.

Look at the pitcher.

Strike three! You're out!

It's all right, Mark.

Talk to her after the game, meet up at the mall

or at the hamburger stand, whatever.

Don't do it in the middle of the game, doesn't make any sense.

Okay, Patton. Come on, big dog.

You got it.

You're out!

Mm. I like that bunt, though.

-Lousy bunt. -Hey. Shh.

Come on, Chris.

Let's go! Let's go!

There you go!

Ha-ha!

You can bring him home.

Just get in there, wait for your pitch, all right?

You got it.

-Come on, Robert! Get a hit! -Go, Robert!

I've been holding this rabbit's foot all season.

I'm starting to lose confidence in it.

It's okay.

Look, he's gonna get a hit right now.

Come on, Robert. You got two more.

You got this.

Ah!

Man, is he slow.

Good game!

Stupid foot.

Next time, you might want to take

the concrete out of this cleats before the game, Mom.

-Hey. -It's okay, guys.

Next time.

All right, boys. Good game, good game.

It's all right, baby!

Let's go, baby! Let's go!

Tough season. Sorry I wasn't around more,

especially considering I talked you into it.

Next season'll be different. All right?

-Deal. We'll get 'em next year. -That's the fun.

Need a ride home, Rivera?

I don't think my barrio is on your way home.

I don't mind for my star player.

Star player?

You got plenty of good players,

you just don't know how to coach 'em, Coach.

Coach. Hey.

-You got a sec? -Klifford Young.

I already paid all my Little League dues

including those late fees you tacked on.

Last game of the season.

What could you possibly need from me now?

-I got a proposition for you. -Uh-huh.

How about you manage the All-Stars,

and make a run in the Little League World Series?

Yeah, you can even take your own team.

Okay? I talked to the board.

It's your decision, being it's so last-minute and all.

Come on, what do you say?

I would say that would defy all reasonable logic

to the game.

You have a good afternoon.

No, I'm serious, Jon.

Kliff, what's wrong with you?

You get hit by a foul ball today?

I manage the worst team in the league.

I can't mess around with this.

I got work up to my eyeballs. I got mouths to feed.

Yeah, sure, there's better teams, but--

hey, not better managers, huh?

I'm a lawyer by trade, Kliff.

So I deal with professional liars day in and day out.

With all due respect, you're not one of them.

Look, nobody wants to play against select ball clubs.

To keep our sponsors,

I got to send a team to the tournament.

Come on. I'm desperate, Jon.

Hey, just call it a glorified practice.

Boys could use it.

I appreciate the offer.

I do.

My boys have lost enough for one season.

What did Kliff want?

He's trying to sell me some fancy socks

at the end of a losing season.

What kind of a dang fool does he take me for?

All right. Well, I don't know about you two,

but I'm hungry.

-Mm-hmm. -Walker, you want enchiladas?

-Whatever. -Love it. Let's do it.

How's he doing, Peanut?

Robert! You getting hot yet?

I just don't like that he's walking over the bridge

-by himself. -No, he'll be fine.

He's got that whole sidewalk over there.

Downtown looks nice.

Mom, did you see the size of that longhorn turd?

-It was enormous. -Come on, Peanut.

Let's go, Robert. Let's get home, I'm starving.

Chill out, Peanut!

-What's this? -Is that Robert?

What is he doing?

Little late for batting practice.

Needs to work on his running.

It'd take a big ol' rocket to get that boy to first base.

Keep it up, Rocket!

Peanut has a whole outfit for the barbecue.

Got an outfit? What, like some special trunks?

A Hawaiian robe and sunglasses.

A Hawaiian robe?

-You know, he wanted it. -Seriously?

Hey, don't be too hard on him.

He asked for my help,