Sticks & Stones

- There are but a handful of individuals

in this world whom I would consider to have been touched

by whomever does the touching.

Albert Einstein, Thomas Jefferson, Sir Isaac Newton,

and Joseph Patrick Finley, sometimes known as "Cy,"

after the late, great Cy Young.

Who is Joseph Patrick Finley, you wonder,

besides the son of Doctors Archibald and Catherine Finley,

besides the finest friend a friend could have?

Nobody special, at least not in his eyes,

which is good in one way and a problem in many others.

Suffice it to say, his is a curious case.

Watch your step, cockroach.

15, 16, 17, 18.

56, 57,

58, 59, 60.

Sixty feet, six inches.

Man, I was doing 120, easy.

Easy.

Man, me and that ball were neck and neck.

- Look, it is scientifically impossible for that bike

to do 120 miles per hour.

Then 100.

Then I'm right.

You're never right.

Air confuses you.

Probably more like 30, man.

More like 90.

The ball, maybe.

But not the bike.

- So what do you think Cy's rookie card will be worth, huh?

- Forget the card, that's chump change, man.

It's the arm.

What do you think that cannon will be worth?

10, 15 mil a year?

- And that's not including endorsements or bonuses.

Innings pitched, strikeouts, E.R.A.,

all-star team appearances, and the Cy Young award.

Factoring in inflation, it'll probably be,

hm, 15 to 20 mil a year by then.

Quit dreamin'.

Start dreamin'.

And I'm gonna be your catcher.

- I'm gonna be your slime-bucket agent.

What am I gonna do with all that green?

Spend it fast.

What are you doing?

- Check out the first ingredient.

Alcohol.

SD alcohol 38-B.

Are you kidding?

Go ahead, it's a good buzz.

You were born with a buzz.

- You can't get drunk off this crap.

It takes the edge off.

- Mouth, you are one scary human being.

- Not half as scary as you, Gump.

What's with the umbrella?

It's hot enough to grow a cactus out of your butt.

My mom said it was gonna rain.

Oh, really?

And what'd she say

about the sky falling and Chicken Little?

It is supposed to rain, Mouth.

That's what the forecast said.

We'll be lucky if we make it to tryouts this afternoon.

We'll get to try out.

We better.

We will.

Shit.

He's in our strike zone.

Where you goin'?

Other side of the school.

- It sucks over there, and you know it.

Come on, Mouth.

He won't be there later.

And if he is?

Other side of the school.

And the next day?

- Other side of the freakin' school.

You're chicken-size chicken.

- It's got nothing to do with that.

- Yeah, it's gotta do with something

that you've never heard of: range.

And I quote, "He who fights and runs away",

"lives to fight another day."

- And I quote, "He who fights and runs away is a pussy."

What about your pride?

- I've got pride in other things.

Like what?

Hayes doesn't give a shit about us.

It's a mind game, and we're playing right into it.

I'm sure if we ask him to move, he'll move.

- Yeah, right after he slits your throat.

Then I'll slit his back.

- You really are a frightening human being, Mouth.

Strike him out!

Shit!

Let's go to tryouts!

Slow down, gentlemen.

It's gonna be awesome.

Traveling in the team bus.

Going to road games.

Hanging with the guys.

Spittin' seeds.

Chewin' tobacco.

Night games.

Gettin' laid!

You wish!

- Psh, just 'cause you can't even see yours.

You're an asshole.

Do I irritate you?

Do I noseate you?

Do I disarm you?

Hey! Hey, where is everyone?

Hey, where are the tryouts?

Thursday afternoon.

But uh, we already got our bat boys.

And mascot.

Come on, Baker, get over the plate!

- What happened to the tryouts for the 13 and 14 year olds?

Canceled.

Budget cuts.

- Yeah, diapers got too expensive.

Very funny.

So how come no one told us?

Why should they?

- 'Cause we walk upright, that's why.

Sorry, kids.

Them's the breaks.

Them's the breaks.

Why is it always just the little guys who lose out, huh?

What are we, invisible?

We don't count?

Yup.

Do you think we like

being the them's-the-breaks generation?

You think we like having no choice in the matter?

Yup.

- So, you don't think we like playing baseball

as much as you do.

Who decides?

Who makes the rules?

Who makes the budget cuts?

Why us?

Why not you guys?

Because we can play the game.

You diseases, you're still trying to figure out

how to throw the ball over the plate

without having it bounce a few times.

Is that so?

Well, you just practice up,

because come Thursday afternoon,

my friend over there is going to blow the ball right by you.

Laugh.

He throws so hard,

he'll make you look like a ballerina in a hailstorm.

That little twerp?

Tell you what,

why don't you go home and nurse?

Ah, blow me!

Whip it out.

You got a forklift?

I'll see you Thursday.

No way in Hell, Book.

I'm not trying out.

You have to.

I don't have to.

Reason number one,

I'm not half good enough to play on that team.

And reason number two...

You're an idiot.

Reason number two,

we all play together or we don't play at all.

And reason number three...

You're an idiot's idiot.

- Reason number three through one thousand, my brother!

My brother's gonna be on that team,

and if he so much as finds out we were on that field,

he'll break both my legs off and beat me with them.

You'll still make the team.

Save it, Book.

I'm telling you, Joseph.

You gotta try out.

This one is in the stars.

It was meant to be.

My mom always said, "Good comes from bad."

And I believe it.

Good always comes from bad.

Move it!

Asshole!

Wait up!

Wait up, guys!

Wait up!

Coming through!

We were mad-dogged.

Billy Hayes mad-dogged us.

We were mad-dogged.

Goddammit!

We're dead.