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[Audience chattering.]
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Good afternoon!
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I am Reinaldo Garcia.
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And you are the audience.
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[Laughter, applause.]
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Okay! Um,
turn off all cel phones, please.
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And, we're in a residential
neighborhood,
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so, no drag racing down the streets
of quiet Carmel, when we leave.
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The show is about an hour and
10 minutes long.
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There is some harsh language
in the piece, okay?
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I'll be taking confessionals
in my booth over here,
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after the plays are over,
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[Audience chuckles]
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if anybody wants
to unburden their hearts, okay?
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So, welcome to "Dream Butchers."
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[Applause.]
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PLACE HOLDER
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[Acoustic guitars]
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[Sings] You crawled across dry thorns
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and chewed cut glass.
-
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Please come through my door,
lay down on the grass.
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[Guitar phrase]
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I don't care where you've been,
in the dark side of town.
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Your history might be shameful.
-
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I will always let you in,
I will never let you down.
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[Guitar chords]
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I'm entertaining angels.
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[Acoustic guitars]
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Now you're down on your luck,
your spirits broke.
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I see your beggar's cup
filled with busted hope.
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Let this new day begin,
before the sun goes down.
-
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I'll know I served an angel.
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I will always let you in,
I will never let you down.
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I'm entertaining angels.
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[Guitar flourish.]
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Hello, stranger. Drop your things.
Come on in.
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There's no danger.
I see the wings beneath your skin.
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I am no holy man.
Just a human
-
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who must obey the plan
for a communion.
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It's a mortal sin
if I would renounce a man
-
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whose life is painful.
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I will always let you in,
I will never let you down.
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Because I'm entertaining you angels.
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[Guitar flourish.]
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[End chord holds.]
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[Applause.]
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[Spoken] I played baseball
in 2 different baseball leagues around town.
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And I also umpire, uh, baseball.
-
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And our opening piece,
"Low and Inside,"
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is about a local man
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uh, whose career,
whose professional career was destroyed.
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But there is a romance to baseball.
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And I wrote this song up in the
San Jose Giants stadium.
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Uh, I recommend going to
Minor League baseball.
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You get right up next to the players.
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They are the future stars of the game.
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It's really exhilarating to me.
-
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So, I wrote this song,
as the players were warming up.
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It's called
"The Church of Baseball."
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[Cheerful acoustic guitars]
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The ground crew rakes the infield,
they line the batter's box with lime.
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Then they spray the baselines,
dust it down 'til players take the field.
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The church of baseball.
Warm in summer air.
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The church of baseball.
It's all prepared.
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Now the players stretch and run.
Boys of summer filled with dreams.
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The fan girls scream.
The local boy warms up in the sun.
-
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The church of baseball.
Blesses all the minor leagues.
-
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The church of baseball.
It'll last for centuries.
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Local talent sings the anthem.
Out of tune loudspeakers squeal.
-
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Now the home team takes the field.
Bonus babies, tall and handsome.
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The church of baseball.
It's a sacred space.
-
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The church of baseball.
Steal a base.
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For Willie, and Maury,
Even Ricky Henderson too.
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The church of baseball,
It welcomes you.
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[Guitar flourish.]
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"Low and Inside."
[Applause.]
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[Announcer] I get it.
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Baseball is a historical game.
I like to compare different things,
-
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compare different eras.
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But how in the world, John Ruck,
can you compare a guy
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getting all these hits in Japan,
and then add it up with the Majors,
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and then say he truly hit
came from a paper on point. You can't.
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The people should know.
What he has done is incredible.
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To say he has passed Pete Rose,
as all time hit leader, we can't do that.
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[Announcer voices continue.]
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Hey Neal.
[Drunkenly mumbles.]
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Uh. Hm. Uh.
[Laughs.]
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Gimme a 7 & 7.
And go easy on the 7-Up.
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Would you turn down the --
turn the TV off?
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I gotta give a reason?
I been comin' here for 5, 6 years?
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Because! I don't wanna
see, hear, or read about baseball.
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[?]
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And another, por favor.
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No tab tonight.
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I'm leavin' no debts.
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You remember Jason?
Big, body builder type?
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Yeah! With the rash down his neck.
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You know any hit men?
Ahh, just kidding.
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I think. You remember Roosevelt?
Fat guy, with a face like a badger?
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He went over big time.
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R - R - Rosie?
Neal. You live upstairs.
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There's nobody here.
Can I stay a while?
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Gracias, mi amigo.
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Ahhh. [Exhales.]
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You know me.
I'm a friendly guy, right?
-
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So does professional baseball.
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It was in Marietta, Georgia.
Pre-season sessions.
-
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Director of officials tells me
I've been elevated to crew chief.
-
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Working beside of me,
two guys with me.
-
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Jason Olivetti, and
Roosevelt Truman.
-
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"Jason Olivetti!" I said.
"Oh no. No, no."
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"I heard he's a piece of work."
-
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"Rico!" he says.
"You're the kind of
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natural-born leader
who can get along with anybody."
-
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"Mentor the kid."
-
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Them's my marching orders.
-
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Two years away from the
Majors, a lifelong dream. Hmm.
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Through Berman, Chatanooga, Jackson,
Pensacola, Knoxville, Montgomery.
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Mobile, Cogsville. Athletes!
Dripping testosterone and doubt.
-
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Adonises driven by a dream.
And, there I am. Deep within it.
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Benevolent, dispensing justice.
Witnessing brilliance.
-
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John Smokes. Matt Holliday.
Juan Fiera. Ah! Ahh.
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A cavalcade of future stars.
Passing through my station
-
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on their way to immortality.
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The baseball field is a timeless Eden.
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And, into my crew chief's ear
slithered Jason Olivetti.
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Dwelling in a body stocking of a rash.
-
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You know it even discolored his weiner?
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Yes! I looked.
Ahhhh.
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Don't be naive, Neal.
Everybody looks.
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Ahhh. Ehhhh. [Laughs.]
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Ahh. [Exhales.]
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You know....
I...I...I....
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Taking charge of a ball field
was just -- almost second nature for me.
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I was a catcher in college.
Field General. I ran the pitchers.
-
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Directed the fielders. Worked the arms.
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And when I wasn't drafted,
I went to umpire school.
-
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Vero Beach, Florida.
Dodger Town. Heh-heh.
-
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Ahh. Sailed right through.
Through rookies. Single ed.
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By my 3rd year, I was already crew chief.
Two guys under me.
-
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In a [?] applied by the Majors.
First class hotels all through the South.
-
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Ha-ha! The future World Series ump!
-
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Tell me...tell me.
How does a guy who gets along
-
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with everybody, grow to hate a man?
-
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Who the mere sight of
provokes nausea and vomiting? Eh?
-
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Jason was a -- a strapping farm boy
who was seduced by big city ambition.
-
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Prostitutes. Marijuana. Hm?
Ah! I'll show you what I mean.
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We checked into a hotel.
-
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During dinner, Jason is flirting
with the waitress.
-
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Flirting. Ha. How's about this.
-
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[Hick accent] "That was one fine meal!
Mmm- mmm - mmm!
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But it lacked some spice.
-
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Why don't you come up to my room later,
and let me taste your pussy?"
-
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[Audience groans.]
-
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[His own voice again]
Then, they were down at the front desk.
-
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Proclaiming, bitching that his towels
were not white enough.
-
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He would weiner-wag the maid,
when he came out of the shower.
-
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Couple of times, he came back to his room
to find it ransacked.
-
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Well deserved, I'd say.
-
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Hm? Oh, on the diamond?
Okay.
-
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Jason's behind the ditch, right?
Guy gets a home run.
-
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As he's circling the bases,
Jason picks up the bat,
-
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and leans on it, like Mister Peanut
leaning on his cane.
-
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Right on home plate! Hmm?!
Ahh.
-
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No, he never smoked it in the van.
-
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It was just the idea of driving through
the South, with my protege,
-
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holding grass -- terrified me!
-
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No. Nooo, no. I could never report him.
-
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You have no idea what it would do
to my reputation.
-
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[Laughs] And his taste in music.
-
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We had -- we had a rule.
-
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The guy behind the wheel
chooses the tunes. Hmm?
-
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Jason wouldn't be out --
we wouldn't be out of the parking lot,
-
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the hotel parking lot,
not 5 minutes.
-
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Jason slides in his
'Greatest Hits of the '70s' CD.
-
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"Afternoon Delight."
"Summer Breeze."
-
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Da-da-da da-da-da
-
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"Blowin' through the jasmine
of my mind."
-
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"One Toke Over the Line."
-
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From Mobile to Jackson!
-
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Jason is the reason I drink
these 7 & 7s.
-
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This official beverage of choice.
-
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I, I enjoyed them, to -- to
establish rapport.
-
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Roosevelt, too.
Drank in the back seat.
-
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Tapping away at his [bleep]ing
iPhone.
-
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Watching porn.
Aiming the camera at the front seat.
-
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Making what he calls his
'POV dramalogue.'
-
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Ahhh.
-
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Okay. So. So! So.
-
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We are in 'bama now.
-
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The Barons pitted against
their arch-rivals, Huntsville Stars.
-
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Battling for the title.
Two games left.
-
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Two games,
and Jason is out of my life!
-
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Yeah.
The Barons, and the Stars.
-
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Huge rivals. Mutual hate.
-
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So.
-
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It all comes down to two outs,
bottom of the 9th, bases loaded.
-
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Barons down 3.
-
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22 year old defector Cuban.
22 year old Cuba defector Oscar Morales
-
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is a 5'2" phenom.
-
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Already, he has tripled, and stolen home.
-
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Now, he slides to the plate,
with a hit on the line.
-
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Huntsville pitcher launches a fast ball.
-
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Inside and low.
-
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Ball one.
-
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The catcher --
the wisecracking, Polack misfit
-
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Anje Prozinski,
asks for a clean one.
-
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"Gimme a ball you can see."
-
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Hm? Of course! I tossed him!
-
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The guy turns on me.
Huntsville keeper leaps out of the dugout,
-
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restraining Prozinski with one hand,
and screaming for an explanation.
-
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"I dunno what the guy said."
-
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"You're not allowed to argue
balls and strikes. You know that."
-
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The manager looks at this catcher.
Says, "you say that?"
-
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"Yeah. Hey. If Blue-Hair grew an eye,
he'd be a Cyclops."
-
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Huntsville manager nearly breaks his ribs,
he's laughing so hard.
-
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The fans are going ape-shit.
The pitcher comes in to the ditch.
-
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Jason and Roosevelt run up
to restore order. Hmm. Ugghhh.
-
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I'm coming to it. Gimme a sec.
Wait a minute.
-
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And then, the pitcher says,
-
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"Hey, Blue. We know you're blind.
We've seen your wife."
-
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Just a minute here.
I'm coming to that.
-
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Okay. Now, back to the game.
-
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Okay. So. The pitcher, the new pitcher
delivers a rising fast ball.
-
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Morales fouls it back, knocks off my mask.
I go down to my knees.
-
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Someone in the Stars dugout yells,
-
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"Hey, Blue! Get up off your knees!
You're BLOWING the game!"
-
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I go over to the Huntsville dugout.
I give 'em the 'stink eye.'
-
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That settles them down.
-
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Next pitch, Morales slams
way down the right field line.
-
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Fouled by inches.
Counts one and two.
-
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Next pitch a slider, outside.
-
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But Morales, already, you know,
what we call a professional hitter,
-
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fouls off the next five pitches
before taking a ball
-
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millimeters over the plate.
-
Not Synced
The new catcher goes,
"Hey Blue!"
-
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I go, "Ah-ah!
One peep out of you,
-
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you shower with your friend."
-
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Guy goes, "Peep!"
-
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I swallow it.
-
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Morales fouls off
the next 3 pitches too.
-
Not Synced
Eh? Good -- good hitter?
You better believe it.
-
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OK. So, now...
-
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So now, the Huntsville pitcher
hangs a curve.
-
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Oh-ho-ho-ho!
-
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Morales drools.
-
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He spins on it!
-
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And launches the ball
high into the Alabama night.
-
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The crowd leaps as one,
-
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as the ball is
Pensacola-bound.
-
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Walk off Grand Slam!
-
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[?] by a run.
-
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Hm-hm!
-
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Me and my crew,
we have to pass
-
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the Visitors' dugout
to exit the field.
-
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The losing pitcher
comes up behind me.
-
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"Hey! Lucky you don't have
an ERA, Blue.
-
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Those runs are yours!"
-
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So.
-
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So we have a game
the next day.
-
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No time to shower.
We have to go to Jackson.
-
Not Synced
We pile into the van,
Jason behind the wheel.
-
Not Synced
[Sings] "Sky rockets in flight!
Afternoon -- "
-
Not Synced
Jason starts to dig in.
-
Not Synced
"Hey, Rico.
That 2 strike call on Morales.
-
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That was strike 3."
-
Not Synced
"Jason," I said.
-
Not Synced
"That ball was so far outside,
it had a hat and a coat on.
-
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Could you turn it down a bit?"
-
Not Synced
I look in the back,
at Roosevelt, for some support.
-
Not Synced
Roosevelt is aiming
his iPhone at us.
-
Not Synced
Another chapter in his
on the road documentary.
-
Not Synced
Jason digs in deeper.
-
Not Synced
"Hey, Rico.
You -- You Latinos
-
Not Synced
look out after each other,
don'tcha?
-
Not Synced
What, did Morales
slip you some pesos?
-
Not Synced
Huh? Huh? One gone call
tips the championship.
-
Not Synced
I thought only horses
slept standing up."
-
Not Synced
"Alright, Jason. That's enough."
-
Not Synced
"You guys," Roosevelt says,
"been goin' at it for 4 solid months.
-
Not Synced
Since opening day. Why don't you both
settle it like men?"
-
Not Synced
"Just a minute, here. Just a minute."
-
Not Synced
Hey -- gimme another 7 and 7, huh?
-
Not Synced
Anyway --
-
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I'm trying every umpire's trick
to NOT listen.
-
Not Synced
One more game left!
-
Not Synced
And then I notice.
We're going in a circle.
-
Not Synced
I say "Jason, you do have
the directions? Right?"
-
Not Synced
And he says, Jason says,
"Uh, I ran out of rolling papers."
-
Not Synced
"Uh, built me a doobie
out of the directions."
-
Not Synced
"Up in smoke!"
-
Not Synced
I said, "Jason, go straight.
At the lights, turn right.
-
Not Synced
That will lead you onto
highway 20 on ramp to Atlanta."
-
Not Synced
"Man who doesn't know his way
around a strike zone,
-
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giving me directions?"
-
Not Synced
"Hmmm. Hey! Slip me some pesos,
and I'll consider it."
-
Not Synced
"Hey Rico! Next time
you're behind the dish,
-
Not Synced
bend over.
Call the game with your good eye."
-
Not Synced
Roosevelt is breaking up
in the back seat.
-
Not Synced
"Four solid months. You two
should form a comedy team."
-
Not Synced
"Ahh, getting caught in a
wetback conspiracy, Roosevelt
-
Not Synced
is no laughing matter."
-
Not Synced
"Hey, maybe -- maybe Rico
would call a more accurate game,
-
Not Synced
if home plate were shaped like
a tortilla."
-
Not Synced
I'm staying cool.
-
Not Synced
"Hey Rico! Yo Rico, I'm your daddy.
Hitchhiked to Salinas once,
-
Not Synced
and [bleeped] your mother,
in a lettuce field."
-
Not Synced
"OK. OK, listen.
One more crack,
-
Not Synced
I'll wreck your career."
-
Not Synced
"Crack? Your mamacita's
tasted like guacamole."
-
Not Synced
"Whoa, you gonna take that,
Rico?"
-
Not Synced
"I just about had enough
of you, Rico.
-
Not Synced
Let's settle this like men."
-
Not Synced
Jasmine is blowing through
our minds.
-
Not Synced
Jason pulls the van over,
under the streetlight.
-
Not Synced
He rips open the driver's door.
-
Not Synced
Races around
the back of the van.
-
Not Synced
And I've got blood in my eyes.
-
Not Synced
He yanks open the passenger door,
-
Not Synced
and before he could remove his hand,
I clocked him, with a solid left to the jaw.
-
Not Synced
Jason grabs my arm,
and the Oklahoma farm boy
-
Not Synced
slings me out,
under the street light.
-
Not Synced
We are tussling like wildcats.
-
Not Synced
The guy has got 100 pounds on me.
-
Not Synced
Roosevelt is filming the whole thing
on his iPhone.
-
Not Synced
Thirty seconds later...
-
Not Synced
it's over.
-
Not Synced
We get back in the van,
-
Not Synced
and pull into Jacksonville,
just before dawn.
-
Not Synced
Not a word spoken
the whole way.
-
Not Synced
A week later,
our little altercation
-
Not Synced
shows up on You Tube.
-
Not Synced
"Posted anonymously."
-
Not Synced
ESPN runs it.
-
Not Synced
Jason and I are released.
-
Not Synced
Fired.
-
Not Synced
Roosevelt's on his way
to the Big Show.
-
Not Synced
What am I gonna do here?
-
Not Synced
What am I gonna do.
-
Not Synced
[Applause.] 26:01