In baseball, you don't know nothing.

--Yogi Berra

Whoever wants to know the heart and

mind of America had better learn

baseball.

--Jacques Barzun

You could look it up.

--Casey Stengel

Titles over--

FADE IN:

A series of still photos. Black and white. Ancient.

BABE RUTH SWINGS -- An icon of American history. His giant

upper body balanced delicately on tiny ankles and feet. The

huge bat in an elegant followthrough...

DISSOLVE TO:

TY COBB ROUNDS THIRD -- The most vicious ballplayer of them

all, a balletic whirling dervish.

DISSOLVE TO:

JACKIE ROBINSON STEALS ROME -- Yogi Berra applies the tag.

Too late.

DISSOLVE TO:

JOE DIMAGGIO WITH HIS SON in the Yankee clubhouse. Walking

down the runway, Joe in uniform. Number five.

PULLBACK REVEALS:

A WALL COVERED WITH BASEBALL PICTURES behind a small table

covered with objects and lit candles. A baseball, an old

baseball card, a broken bat, a rosin bag, a jar of pine tar--

also a peacock feather, a silk shawl, a picture of Isadora

Duncan. Clearly, the arrangement is--

A SHRINE -- And it glows with the candles like some religious

altar.

We hear a woman's voice in a North Carolina accent.

ANNIE (V.O.)

I believe in the Church of

Baseball.

(beat)

I've tried all the major religions

and most of the minor ones--I've

worshipped Buddha, Allah, Brahma,

Vishnu, Siva, trees, mushrooms,

and Isadora Duncan...

PAN AWAY FROM THE SHRINE across the room. Late afternoon

light spills into the room, across fine old furniture, to a

small dressing table. A WOMAN applies make up.

ANNIE SAVOY, mid 30's, touches up her face. Very pretty,

knowing, outwardly confident. Words flow from her Southern

lips with ease, but her view of the world crosses Southern,

National and International borders. She's cosmic.

ANNIE (V.O. CONT'D)

I know things. For instance--

(beat)

There are 108 beads in a Catholic

rosary. And--

(beat)

There are 108 stitches in a

baseball.

(beat)

When I learned that, I gave Jesus

a chance.

(beat)

But it just didn't work out between

us The Lord laid too much guilt

on me. I prefer metaphysics to

theology.

(beat)

You see, there's no guilt in

baseball...and it's never boring.

ANNIE OPENS A CLOSET DOOR -- Dozens of shoes hang from the

door. She chooses a pair of RED HIGH HEELS, with thin straps.

She sits on a bench and

ANNIE

Which makes It like sex.

(beat)

There's never been a ballplayer

slept with me who didn't have the

best year of his career.

(beat)

Making love is like hitting a

baseball--you just got to relax

and concentrate.

ANNIE SLIPS ON THE RED HIGH HEELS -- Smoothing her hands up

her calves as she does.

ANNIE

Besides, I'd never sleep with a

player hitting under .250 unless

he had a lot of R.B.I.'s or was a

great glove man up the middle.

(beat)

A woman's got to have standards.

SHE HOLDS OUR HER LEGS DISPLAYING THE HEELS, side by side.

Like a little girl showing off her new shoes.

ANNIE

The young players start off full

of enthusiasm and energy but they

don't realize that come July and

August when the weather is hot

it's hard to perform at your peak

level.

(beat)

The veterans pace themselves

better. They finish stronger.

They're great in September.

(beat)

While I don't believe a woman

needs a man to be fulfilled, I do

confess an interest in finding

the ultimate guy--he'd have that

youthful exuberance but the

veteran's sense of timing...

ANNIE STARTS PACKING A HUGE HANDBAG -- With fruit, an official

scorebook, binoculars, a radar gun, and lipstick.

ANNIE

Y'see there's a certain amount of

"life-wisdom" I give these boys.

(beat)

I can expand their minds.

Sometimes when I've got a

ballplayer alone I'll just read

Emily Dickinson or Walt Whitman

to him. The guys are so sweet--

they always stay and listen.

(beat)

Of course a guy will listen to

anything if he thinks it's

foreplay.

ANNIE TOUCHES PERFUME BEHIND HER EARS and, ever so slightly,

in her cleavage.

ANNIE

I make then feel confident. They

make me feel safe. And pretty.

ANNIE POSES IN FRONT OF THE MIRROR -- She smoothes her dress

along her hips. And puts on a flashy pair of sunglasses.

Stylish and slightly mad.

ANNIE

what I give them lasts a life-

time. What they give me lasts

142 games. Sometimes it seems

like a bad trade

(quickly rebounding)

but bad trades are part of baseball--

who can forget Frank Robinson or

Milt Pappas, for Godsakes!

(beat)

It's a long season and you got to

trust it.

ANNIE STARTS FOR THE DOOR and grabs her baseball glove

CUT TO:

EXT. ANNIE'S HOUSE -- DUSK

A frame house with porch and lots of trees--a Thomas Wolfe

house...with a 1959 faded red Volvo in the driveway.

ANNIE LEAVES ON FOOT, turning onto the sidewalk of a bucolic,

old Durham, North Carolina neighborhood. In the b.g. other

people are heading the same direction ANNIE PULLS A DURHAM

BULLS BASEBALL CAP from her handbag and pulls it on her head.

ANNIE

I've tried them all--I really

have--

(beat)

and the only church that truly

feeds the soul--day in, day out--

is the Church of Baseball.

CUT TO:

EXT. THE CHURCH -- DURHAM BASEBALL PARK -- DUSK

Now visible In the late afternoon sun, a rickety old stadium

carved into the center of an old Tobacco town.

People are arriving on foot from all around...

"Rock Around the Clock" by Bill Haley fills the air.

CLOSE ON A BASEBALL CLOWN -- MAX PATKIN, 60, at home plate

doing his famous Bill Haley routine.- A comic pitcher's windup

full of twists and goofy choreography.

RECORDING OVER P.A.

One o'clock, two o'clock, three

o'clock, rock...Four o'clock,

five o'clock, six o'clock rock...

ANNIE SITS DOWN IN HER PRIVATE BOX SEAT -- Her chair is wiped

off by a young black boy, JACKSON, 11, who then sits next to

her. He is her employed errand runner, note sender, and

friend.

A GROUP OF GROUPIES ENTERS THE PARK -- 20 year old girl/women,

dressed in tight pants, tight everything.

Friendly, eager, innocent--THEY WAVE TO ANNIE.

FIVE PLAYERS' WIVES AND THREE SMALL CHILDREN sit in a special

box seat behind a small sign "Players' Wives".

RECORDING OVER P.A.

Seven o'clock, eight o'clock,

nine o'clock rock...we're gonna

rock around the clock tonight

CUT TO:

EXT/INT. THE DURHAM BULL DUGOUT -- NIGHT

AS MAX PATKIN CONTINUES HIS ROUTINE, PLAYERS WARM UP, AND-

THE MANAGER, JOE RIGGINS, 45, known merely as SKIP, short

for "Skipper", a chaw of tobacco in his cheek, stands with

his pitching coach, LARRY HOCKETT late 30's, an ex-big leaguer

whose body has seen too many cocktail lounges.

LARRY ROLLS SOME RED MAN CHEWING TOBACCO into a slab of pink

bubble gum, carefully folding the corners, tucking it neatly

together. Larry examines it as they talk-And shoves the

giant chaw into his mouth.

SKIP

Where's Ebby?

LARRY

Ain't he warning up?

SKIP

(cynically)

No. The guy's professional debut

and he forgets about it.

LARRY

Better find our bonus baby, eh?

A PLAYER, DEKE, 25, stuffs a hot dog into his mouth.

SKIP

Seen Ebby?

DEKE

(mouthful of food)

Nope.

SKIP WHIRLS AND HEADS UP THE TUNNEL into the:

CUT TO:

INT. THE DURHAM CLUBHOUSE -- NIGHT

SKIP enters, shouting--

SKIP

Ebby?!

CLOSE ON A BARE ASS -- Baseball uniform around the ankles,

short t-shirt on top, and on top of that the head of EBBY

CALVIN LALOOSH, baseball cap on backwards. EBBY is a great

looking energetic man-child with the endless confidence,

naivete and horniness of youth.

Life is a party.

A YOUNG WOMAN, MILLIE, 20, half nude, is dressing quickly.

EBBY WHIRLS as Skip enters.

SKIP

Jesus. Game starts in four

minutes!

(beat)

Why ain't you warm?!

EBBY

I am warm.

SKIP

I'm fining you a hundred dollars.

Jesus, Ebby, this is your

professional debut tonight--you

know how many guys out there'd

give blood to be in your shoes

an' you're leavin' your fastball

in the locker room for some piece

of ass!

MILLIE LOOKS OUT FROM BEHIND A BAT RACK -- Outraged.

MILLIE

Skip, It's me! I'm not some quote

piece of ass unquote.

SKIP

Oh, Millie, jeez, sorry--I didn't

recognize ya. Don't take it

personal but if I catch you in

here again you're banned from the

ballpark.

MILLIE

You can't ban me from the ballpark

'cause Daddy donated the scoreboard

and if you banned me he might

take the scoreboard away.

SKIP

Whatta we need a scoreboard for?

We haven't scored any runs all

year

(tough, to Ebby)

Get your ass out there.

As Skip starts to leave.

EBBY)

Hey Boss, I got a question.

SKIP

(stops, exasperated)

What?!

EBBY

You think I need a nickname? I

think I need a nickname. The

great ones have nicknames--

somethin' like Oil Can or Catfish

Skip stares at him. He can't believe this guy.

SKIP

Ya got three minutes.

SKIP WHIRLS AND HEADS BACK OUT TO THE FIELD -- And Ebby

unperturbed, turns his attention back to Millie.

EBBY

Got time for another quickie?

MILLIE

Jesus, you got a game to pitch!

EBBY

But we got three minutes.

EXT. THE BALLPARK -- MOMENTS LATER -- NIGHT

CUT TO:

MAX PATKIN STILL FLAILING AWAY to "Rock Around the Clock".

RECORDING

When the clock strikes two, three,

and four and the band slows down

we'll yell for more, gonna rock

around the clock tonight.

ANNIE LOOKS THROUGH HER BINOCULARS -- Studying the players

warming up casually on the sidelines as Patkin winds up his

act.

P.O.V. A LATIN PLAYER playing pepper.

ANNIE

Number twenty-two's thighs are

just great. Who's he?

JACKSON

(reading the program)

Jose Galindo. He hit .314 at

Lynchburg last year.

ANNIE

Three-fourteen? Hmmm... Look't

those thighs, Jackson

BACK TO MAX PATKIN -- He finishes his routine.

RECORDING OVER P.A.

Gonna rock, gonna rock around the

clock tonight.

INT. PRESS BOX -- NIGHT

CUT TO:

A WOMAN ANNOUNCER, MARYLOU, 30, speaks into the P.A. mike.

ANNOUNCER

Let's hear it for Max Patkin--

Applause as Patkin takes his bows, leaves the field, shakes

hands with a the BULL MASCOT LEADING THE APPLAUSE.

ANNOUNCER

"The Greatest Show on Dirt"--your

own Durham Bulls!

CUT TO:

INT. THE DUGOUT

CLOSE ON ANOTHER PLAYER -- MICKEY MCFEE, 23, black. Smoking

a cigaret--always smoking a cigaret. He snuffs out his

cigaret and RUNS onto the field with the rest of the team,

as--

EBBY ENTERS THE DUGOUT from the runway. Larry and Skip

encourage their players running onto the field. Ebby is

trying to get the zipper on his fly unstuck. He smiles

broadly at Skip and Larry, and grabs his glove.

EBBY

I'm there, Skip, I'm ready.

CUT TO:

INT. THE PRESS BOX

THE RADIO ANNOUNCER, TEDDY CULLINANE, 50, leans into the

radio mike of a very small local station. Next to him is

the local SPORTSWRITER, WHITEY SHERRARD, 40. Between them

they've seen a million minor league players come and go.

WHITEY

Is this guy LaLoosh worth a hundred

grand? I hear he's a quart low?

TEDDY THE RADIO MAN

(covering the mike)

He's left handed. Whattya expect?

(on the air)

The Bulls are off to a slow start

having dropped their first three

games, but hope to turn it around

tonight with the professional

debut of the heralded young left

hander, Ebby Calvin LaLoosh.

(beat)

Stepping In for the Peninsula

White Sox is leadoff hitter Willie

Foster

CUT TO:

EXT. THE BALLFIELD -- NIGHT

ANGLE TO ANNIE'S BOX SEAT -- Millie has joined Annie and

Jackson. Clearly, the younger women look up to Annie for

wisdom and insight.

ANNIE

--Millie, you've got to stay out

of the clubhouse. It'll just get

everybody in trouble.

MILLIE

I got lured.

ANNIE

You didn't get "lured". Women

never get lured. They're too

strong and powerful for that.

Now say it--"I didn't get lured

and I will take responsibility

for my actions".

MILLIE

"I didn't get lured and I will

take responsibility for my

actions".

ANNIE

That's better.

(to Jackson)

Got the radar ready?

JACKSON

Ready.

JACKSON AIMS A RADAR GUN at the plate.

THE PENINSULA WHITE SOX LEADOFF HITTER steps in.

TEDDY THE RADIO MAN (V.O.)

The word on LaLoosh is that the

good looking young lefty has a

major league fastball but sometimes

has problems with his control

EBBY CALVIN LALOOSH WINDS UP and fires. The pitch sails

over the batter's head, over the catcher's head, over the

backstop, and CRASHES INTO THE PRESS BOX.

CUT TO:

INT. THE PRESS BOX

THE ANNOUNCER AND SPORTSWRITER CRASH to the floor as the

ball smashes into their booth.

CUT TO:

INT. THE DUGOUT

SKIP SPITS TOBACCO, mumbles flatly to Larry.

SKIP

Little high.

LARRY

(shouts to EBBY)

C'mon big 'un, you're okay...

ANNIE'S BOX SEAT -- She turns to Jackson.

JACKSON

Ninety-five miles an hour.

ANNIE

He looks great, just great!

CUT TO:

EXT. THE PITCHER'S MOUND

THE CATCHER TALKS TO EBBY, trying to calm him down.

CATCHER

What the hell was that?! Lighten

up a little. Awright?

EBBY,

(to catcher)

Hey--what's your name again--I'm

bad with names--

CATCHER

Ed. You want me to write it on

my chest? Jesus ...

EBBY

Sorry. Hey, Ed, I got a question.

CATCHER

What?

EBBY

Who's the beef sitting behind the

third base dugout?

CATCHER

(slowly)

That's Annie Savoy. Nice eh?

But that's more woman than you

ever dreamed of, Rook. She could

kick your ass and have you for

breakfast

THE CATCHER RETURNS to the plate.

INT. THE PRESS BOX

CUT TO:

WHITEY AND TEDDY WARILY CLIMB back to their seats.

TEDDY

One ball and no strikes to Willie

Foster...

CUT TO:

EBBY'S NEXT PITCH HITS FOSTER in the ribs. He crumples.

CUT TO:

ANNIE'S BOX SEAT -- She's writing a note. She hands it to

Jackson.

ANNIE

Take this to Ebby in the dugout

between innings.

JACKSON

What's it say?

ANNIE

It says he's not bending his back

on his follow-through.

JACKSON RUNS OFF with the note. Annie turns to Millie.

ANNIE

Well let's get down to it, honey--

how was he?

MILLIE

Well, he fucks like he pitches.

Sorta all over the place

P.O.V. EBBY LALOOSH FIRES ANOTHER ONE into the stands. And--

Hit "Rock Around the Clock"--

DISSOLVE INTO:

QUICK MONTAGE OF EBBY'S FIRST GAME -- Strikeouts and wild

pitches. A young, gifted, uncontrollable thrower.

BILL HALEY AND HIS COMETS

When the chimes ring five, six

and seven--We'll be right in

Seventh Heaven, Gonna rock around

the clock tonight...

EBBY UNLEASHES A WILD ONE -- And decks the Bull Mascot.

EBBY IN THE DUGOUT READS THE NOTE from Annie.

EBBY STRIKES OUT a Peninsula batter.

EBBY UNLEASHES ANOTHER WILD ONE and a batter hits the dirt.

End "Rock Around the Clock" and--

CUT TO:

INT. THE BULL LOCKER ROOM -- NIGHT

SKIP WALKS THROUGH THE PLAYERS ROOM -- Players are up, joking

irreverently.

JOSE

Hey Lefty, hold 'em to 12 runs

every night, you'll win 20--

EBBY

(he might be serious)

Had 'em all the way.

A DURHAM PLAYER SITTING HALF DRESSED in front of his locker.

A PICTURE OF JESUS hangs amidst his gear. The player, JIMMY,

25, has a Bible and prays softly to himself.

JIMMY

Dear Lord, thank you for being

with us tonight, thank you for

protecting us from injury and--

DEKE WALKS BY, shaking Jimmy irreverently as he prays.

DEKE

Wake up, wake up--

MICKEY (A BLACK) COMPLAINS TO TONY as they undress.

MICKEY

This league is racist, man.

TONY

Every time you go 0 for 4 you

think the league is racist-face

it, Mick, you're an equal

opportunity "out".

CUT TO:

THE MANAGER'S OFFICE -- A tiny cubicle, a desk, phone Larry

joins him with the pitching charts. Skip studies the charts.

SKIP

He walked eighteen?!

LARRY

It's a league record.

SKIP

Struck out eighteen...

LARRY

League record.

(beat)

And he hit the Radio Announcer, a

Sportswriter, and the Bull Mascot

twice--also league records--

(beat)

Joe, the guy's got some serious

shit.

THE DOOR OPENS -- A PLAYER ENTERS, in street clothes, carrying

his suitcases. CRASH DAVIS, 30, older than the other players.

And different. More than just opinions, he actually has a

point of view. A career minor leaguer, hanging on wherever

he can get a job. Unlike Ebby--Crash knows a lot about the

world without baseball. Also unlike Ebby--he loves baseball

desperately.

LARRY

Who're you?

Crash speaks slowly, with a trace of cynicism and pride,

like an old warrior who knows he's just a hired gun.

CRASH

I am the player to be named later.

Beat. Skip looks out, half dressed, from his cubicle.

SKIP

Crash Davis?

CRASH

The Crash Davis.

(beat, then nonstop))

And you, Larry Hockett, should

recognize me 'cause five years

ago in the Texas League when you

were pitching for El Paso and I

was hitting cleanup for Shreveport,

you hung a curve on an 0-2 pitch

of a 3-2 game in bottom of the

8th and I tattooed it over the

Goodyear Tire sign, beat you 4-3--

and I got a free wheel alignment

from Goodyear.

LARRY

(remembering)

Ohyeah. I shoulda throwed a

slider. Damn, Crash, how're ya?

SKIP

I'm Joe Riggins. Sit down

CRASH

I'm too old for this shit. Why

the hell am I back in "A" ball?

SKIP

'Cause of Ebby Calvin LaLoosh.

(beat)

The Big Club's got a hundred

grand in him-

LARRY

He's got a million dollar arm and

a five cent head.

SKIP

--we had the gun on him tonight--

the last five pitches he threw

were faster than the first five.

96 miles an hour, 98, 97, 97.

97. (beat) He's got the best

young arm I've seen in 30 years.

LARRY

But he ain't quite sure which

plane he's on, y'know what I

mean...

SKIP

You been around, you're smart,

you're professional, you know

what it takes--

(beat)

We want you to mature the kid.

CRASH

"Mature" ain't a fuckin' verb.

LARRY

You go to college or what?

SKIP

We want you to room with him on

the road and stay on his case all

year.

(beat)

He can go all the way.

CRASH

And where can I go?

SKIP

You can keep going to the ballpark

and keep gettin' paid to do it.

(beat)

Beats hell outta working at Sears.

LARRY

Sears sucks, Crash, I tried it

once. Sold Lady Kenmores--it's

nasty, nasty work.

SKIP

Even if it's the Carolina League--

this is a chance to play everyday.

CRASH

(angrily)

You don't want a player, you want

a stable pony. My Triple A

contract gets bought out so I can

hold the Flavor o' the Month's

dick in the bus leagues?!

(angrily)

Fuck this fucking game... I

fuckin' quit.

CRASH RISES TO LEAVE -- Picks up his luggage, and turns to

Skip and Larry before exiting. A deep breath

CRASH

Who we play tomorrow?

Beat. They know, they share the inability to quit the game.

They're all clinging to the Church of Baseball.

SKIP

Winston-Salem. Batting practice

at 4:30.

CRASH LEAVES and as he does -- Ed (the catcher) enters.

ED

You wanted to see me?

SKIP

Yeah, Ed, shut the door...

He does. Remains standing. He can see it coming.

SKIP

This is the toughest job a manager

has, Ed...

(deep breath)

But the organization has decided

to make a change--we're releasing

you from your contract...

CLOSE ON ED -- Silent. Motionless. Empty.

CUT TO:

INT. THE LOCKER ROOM --

CRASH PUTS HIS BAG IN A LOCKER as other players return from

the shower. Crash watches as EBBY SOAKS HIS ELBOW IN A TUB

OF ICE WATER as the sports writer, Whitey, interviews him.

WHITEY

How's it feel to get your first

professional win?

EBBY

It feels "out there". A major

rush. I mean it doesn't just

feel "out there" but it feels out

there.

CRASH

Hopeless. Utterly fucking

hopeless.

CUT TO:

INT. MAXWELL'S BAR -- LATER THAT NIGHT

Loud country music in the players' hangout and pickup spot.

It's full of players and lots of young women.

MILLIE SITS DOWN NEXT TO YET ANOTHER PLAYER, TONY, 25-- He's

slick, urban, smooth.

MILLIE

Hi, I'm Millie.

TONY

I'm Tony. I play left field.

MILLIE

I know.

ANNIE SITS IN THE CORNER at her own table. Max Patkin,

looking spiffy in a turtle neck sweater and double breasted

blazer, sits down next to her. Old friends.

MAX

Love the game, Annie, love it

(dead serious)

When I die I'm gonna have my ashes

sprinkled around a pitcher's mound

in some ballpark somewhere--

(beat)

--and I'll have a few ashes saved

for the rosin bag so I'll still

be in the game after I'm gone.

ANNIE

What a sweet idea-

A COCKTAIL WAITRESS DELIVERS another round to them.

ANNIE

We didn't order this, honey...

WAITRESS

(she points)

He did.

P.O.V. CRASH DAVIS SITTING ALONE IN THE OTHER CORNER. HE

waves, and smiles easily.

ANNIE

(to Max)

Who's that?

MAX

Hey--that's Crash Davis. He's

played in more towns than I have.

Helluva guy--real different... I

actually saw him read a book

without pictures once

ANNIE

Really? Kinda cute...

ANNIE NODS AT CRASH -- He comes over to her table, greets

Max as an old friend, and introduces himself.

CRASH

I'm Crash Davis.

ANNIE

Annie Savoy. Wanta dance?

CRASH

I don't dance.

ANNIE

I don't trust a man who don't

dance. It ain't natural.

SUDDENLY -- HARD CORE ROCK AND ROLL on the juke box. Several

couples dance, and out of the pack--

EBBY DANCES WITH A GROUPIE -- Spinning and whirling,

uninhibited and infectious. He's suddenly dancing with a

different WOMAN, then another, and another...

ANNIE, CRASH AND MAX WATCH the mad performance.

MAX

Who's he dancing with?

ANNIE

All of 'em, I think...

EBBY PUTS ON A ONE MAN SHOW ON THE DANCE FLOOR -- The whole

bar stops to watch him, applauding as he spins to a finish.

A quirkier "Saturday Night Fever" show. More naive, fun.

He climbs off the floor and joins Annie's table.

EBBY

Thanks for the note--you're right,

I wasn't bending my back.

ANNIE

You got a live arm there.

He extends his hand to introduce himself.

EBBY

Ebby Calvin LaLoosh.

ANNIE

You need a nickname.

EBBY

That's what I been telling

everybody! Wanta dance?

CRASH

She's dancing with me.

ANNIE

Crash, I didn't think you--

CRASH

I'll learn. C'mon--

EBBY

Just a minute, pal

The two men square off quickly. Annie mocks them.

ANNIE

You boys gonna fight over little

me?

CRASH RISES, pulling Annie with him. But--

EBBY STANDS to challenge Crash.

EBBY

Step outside, pal.

CRASH

Love to--

ANNIE

Oh don't be such guys--

But Crash and Ebby head outside. She turns to Max--

ANNIE

Hell, Max, wanta dance?

CUT TO:

EXT. THE PARKING LOT -- NIGHT

A circle is formed. Everybody gathers. Millie clings to

Tony, her guy of the moment. Crash and Ebby face off.

CRASH

I don't believe in fighting.

EBBY

Pussy.

CRASH

Take the first shot at me.

EBBY

I ain't hitting a man first.

CRASH

Hit me in the chest with this...

CRASH PULLS A BASEBALL from his jacket pocket, tosses it to

Ebby.

EBBY

I'd kill ya.

CRASH

From what I hear you couldn't hit

a bull in the ass with a slingshot

EBBY

Don't try me.

CRASH

Throw it. C'mon, right in the

chest.

EBBY

No way.

CRASH

C'mon, Meat. You can't hit me

'cause you're starting to think

about it already, you're starting

to think how embarrassing it'll

be to miss, how all these people

would laugh.

(teasing mercilessly)

C'mon, Rook--show me that million

dollar arm 'cause I'm getting a

good idea about the five cent

head--

EBBY REARS BACK AND FIRES THE BALL -- From ten feet away,

right at Crash's chest. But, alas--

THE BALL GOES THROUGH A SECOND STORY WINDOW in the distance.

Crash never blinks.

CRASH

Ba11 four.

EBBY IS ENRAGED -- HE CHARGES CRASH, lunging at him.

EBBY

Who the fuck are you?!

CRASH LASHES OUT A SHORT LEFT -- With lightning speed,

effortless. And brutal. BANG! Ebby goes down. And stays

there stunned. He looks up.

CRASH

I'm Crash Davis. Your new catcher.

And you just got Lesson Number

One--"Don't think--it can only

hurt the ballclub".

(beat)

Buy ya a drink?

CUT TO:

INT. THE CLUB -- NIGHT

ANNIE AND MAX DANCE to Billy Eckstein on the juke box. Millie

and Tony are also on the dance floor.

ECKSTEIN (ON JUKE BOX)

April in Paris, chestnuts in

blossom, Holiday tables under the

tree...

EBBY AND CRASH WATCH FROM THE CORNER TABLE -- Ebby's right

eye is blackened. He holds a drink on it.

EBBY

We fight, she gets the clown--

how's that happen?

CRASH

Shut up--I like this song...

(sings along)

April in Paris, this is a feeling,

No one can ever reprieve...

EBBY

She's playing with my mind.

CRASH

It's a damn easy thing to play

with.

ANNIE SUDDENLY APPEARS at the table.

ANNIE

Well--you boys stopped fighting

yet? Are you pals now? Good. I

love a little macho male bonding--

I think it's sweet even if it's

probably latent homosexuality

being "re-channeled" but I believe

in "re-channeling" so who cares,

right?

(beat)

Shall we go to my place?

EBBY

Which one of us?

ANNIE

Oh both of you, of course...

CLOSE ON EBBY -- His eyes full of fear and wonder.

CLOSE ON CRASH -- He smiles.

THE THREE OF THEM LEAVE the bar together.

CUT TO:

INT. ANNIE'S LIVING ROOM -- NIGHT

THE SHRINE OF BASEBALL GLOWS -- Annie lights the candles.

EBBY AND CRASH SIT ON OPPOSITE ENDS OF HER COUCH -- Both men

look around the room with wonder. Ebby is clearly more

nervous than Crash, who's been in some strange rooms in his

minor league career.

ANNIE

These are the ground rules.

(beat)

I hook up with one guy a season--

I mean it takes me a couple of

weeks to pick the guy--kinda my

own spring training...

(beat)

And, well, you two are the most

promising prospects of the season

so far.

(beat)

So... I thought we should get to

know each other.

CRASH

Why do you get to choose? Why

don't I get to choose?

ANNIE

Actually none of us on this planet

ever really choose each other.

It's all Quantum Physics and

molecular attraction. There are

laws we don't understand that

bring us together and break us

apart.

EBBY

Is somebody gonna go to bed with

somebody or what?

ANNIE

You're a regular nuclear meltdown,

honey--slow down.

Crash rises to leave, and heads for the door.

CRASH

After 12 years in the minor

leagues, I don't tryout. Besides--

I don't believe in, Quantum Physics

when it comes to matters of the

heart...or loins.

ANNIE

(challenging him)

What do you believe in?

Crash at the door. Annie's question is slightly taunting.

He stops, and speaks with both aloofness and passion:

CRASH

I believe in the soul, the cock,

the pussy, the small of a woman's

back, the hanging curve ball,

high fiber, good scotch, long

foreplay, show tunes, and that

the novels of Thomas Pynchon are

self-indulgent, overrated crap.

(beat)

I believe that Lee Harvey Oswald

acted alone, I believe that there

oughtta be a constitutional

amendment outlawing astro-turf

and the designated hitter, I

believe in the "sweet spot", voting

every election, soft core

pornography, chocolate chip

cookies, opening your presents on

Christmas morning rather than

Christmas eve, and I believe in

long, slow, deep, soft, wet kisses

that last for 7 days.

ANNIE

(breathless)

Oh my...

(softly)

Don't leave...

CRASH

G'night.

Crash heads out into the night. Annie hurries to the-door

while Ebby sits on the couch, bewildered.

EBBY

Hey--what's all this molecule

stuff?

ANNIE STANDS IN THE DOORWAY -- Crash is on the porch.

ANNIE

Wait, Crash--don't go--all I want

is a date. I'm not gonna fall in

love with you or nothin'.

CRASH

I'm not interested in a woman

who's interested in that boy.

ANNIE

I'm not interested yet.

Ebby appears in the door.

EBBY

Who you calling a "boy"?

CRASH

See ya at the yard, Meat.

Crash walks out into the Durham night. Ebby and Annie stand

in the doorway. She speaks softly to Ebby.

ANNIE

No ballplayer ever said "no" to a

date with me.

EBBY

Well shit, then, let's fuck.

CUT TO:

INT. ANNIE'S BEDROOM -- MOMENTS LATER

ANNIE PUTS ON A RECORD -- Edith Piaf sings "Le Trois Cloches".

EBBY STARTS UNDRESSING across the room.

ANNIE

Wait, honey, slow down--I want to

watch.

She sits in a chair. Piaf sings. Ebby practically rips his

shirt off, exposing a great upper body.

ANNIE

No, no, no. Put it back on and

take it off slowly.

EBBY

Jesus, what kinda broad are you?

ANNIE

When you know how to make love,

you'll know how to pitch.

(turning to the stereo)

Shh. I love this part.

Piaf sings. Annie listens. Ebby re-buttons, then unbuttons

his shirt. It drops, revealing his back.

ANNIE

Oh my--what a nice back.

Ebby drops his pants.

ANNIE

No, no, honey... first the shoes

and socks.

EBBY

The socks? It's cold in here.

ANNIE

(sweetly, unthreatening)

You think Dwight Gooden leaves

his socks on?

Ebby considers this. Pulls his pants back up. Takes his

socks off. Then his pants.

ANNIE

Ebby honey have you ever been

handcuffed in bed?

CUT TO:

EXT. DOWNTOWN DURHAM -- NIGHT

Deserted streets of the old tobacco town. Crash walks alone.

He picks up an old newspaper out of a trash can. He stops

in front of a store window. He rolls the newspaper like a

short bat. He takes a batting stance, and--

CRASH TAKES HIS BATTING STANCE in front of the window,

studying his reflection. He taken a "swing". And another.

A GROUP OF OLD BLACK MEN stand in a doorway, watching.

CUT TO:

INT. ANNIE'S BEDROOM -'CONTINUOUS NIGHT

CLICK -- A handcuff is locked onto Ebby's wrist. Both his

arms are outstretched--he's getting very excited.

EBBY

Awright! I read about stuff like

this. Bring it on!

Annie calmly drags a chair over and sits down.

ANNIE

Sweetie, have you ever heard of

Walt Whitman?

EBBY

Who's he play for?

ANNIE

Well, he sort of pitches for the

Cosmic All-Stars.

EBBY

Never heard of 'em.

Annie opens a book and begins reading as Piaf sings softly.

ANNIE

Good--then listen.

(reading)

"I sing the body electric. The

armies of those I love engirth me

and I engirth them--"

EBBY

We gonna fuck or what?

ANNIE

Shh, shh...

(reading)

"They will not let me off till I

go with them, respond to them,

and discorrupt them and charge

them"

DISSOLVE TO:

SAME SCENE -- LATER

ANNIE

"Limitless limpid jets of love

hot and enormous -- quivering

jelly of love, white blow and

delirious juice--

CLOSE ON EBBY'S FACE -- Intrigued, aroused, frightened.

CUT TO:

EXT. DOWNTOWN DURHAM -- NIGHT

THE OLD BLACK MAN is tossing wadded up balls of paper at

Crash who takes beautiful, fluid swings with the rolled up

newspaper. Batting practice.

CLOSE ON CRASH'S EYES -- Studying the "pitches" with intense

concentration, endlessly working on his game.

CUT TO:

EXT. THE DURHAM FIELD -- NEXT DAY

LARRY, DEKE, MICKEY AND BOBBY ARE SINGING at home plate as a

pre-game show. Larry is Diana Ross, the other three are the

Supremes, and the routine is brilliantly tacky.

LARRY (AND THE SUPREMES)

Baby love, oh oh, baby love, I

need ya oh how I need ya, All ya

do is treat me bad, Take my heart

and leave me sad...

CUT TO:

INT. DURHAM BULLS LOCKER ROOM -- DAY

JIMMY STANDS ON A BENCH trying to get the players' attention.

JIMMY

Listen up, guys, could I have

your attention a minute?

(a few heads turn)

I'm going to be leading a daily

chapel service at three In the

afternoons here in the locker

room and you're all invited to

drop by and worship before batting

practice.

BOBBY

Jimmy, God damn it--loosen up and

get laid.

BOBBY, 25, smooths the creases of his uniform, preening.

JIMMY

I don't care If you think I'm

square but I believe what I

believe.

All heads turn as:

EBBY ENTERS THE LOCKER ROOM -- He looks trashed.

BOBBY

Jesus, Ebby, what truck ran over

you?

EBBY

(glassy eyed)

Call me "Nuke". Annie said it's

my new nickname.

Lots of teasing from around the clubhouse.

DEKE

Annie nailed you? That's great,

means you're gonna have a helluva

year. Does she fuck as good as

they say?

EBBY

We didn't do it, man--she read

poetry to me all night, I swear.

It's more tiring than fucking.

EBBY GOES TO HIS LOCKER and starts undressing. Crash sits

next to him, looking straight ahead. Bobby nearby.

EBBY

--of love"...hey, Crash, does

that mean what I think it means?

What's the deal here?

Crash studies Ebby.

CRASH

Your shower shoes have fungus on

'em. You'll never get to the

Bigs with fungus on your shower

shoes.

(beat)

Think classy and you'll be classy.

If you win 20 in the Show you can

let the fungus grow back on your

shower shoes and the press'll

think you're colorful.

(beat)

Until you win twenty in the Show,

however, it means you're a slob.

CRASH RISES AND HEADS OUT to the field. Ebby sits silently,

holding his shower shoes, taking it all in.

CUT TO:

EXT. DURHAM BALLPARK -- GAME IN PROGRESS -- DAY

IN THE DUGOUT -- THE GAME FROM A DUGOUT P.O.V. The players

sit, stand, stir restlessly. A combination of relaxation

and intensity not visible from the stands.

CRASH IS HANDED HIS BAT and helmet by the bat boy.

DEKE

This guy's bringing some serious

smoke out there.

DUGOUT P.O.V. THE WINSTON-SALEM PITCHER throwing hard.

CRASH

He ain't got shit.

FOLLOW CRASH INTO THE ON-DECK CIRCLE -- The ritual. The bat

boy hands him the pine tar rag and he rubs pine tar on the

bat with great care.

CRASH RISES -- Heads to the plate. Talking to himself.

CRASH

You ain't getting that cheese by

me, meat.

CRASH TAKES HIS STANCE -- Upright. Calm. Head still.

CRASH (VOICE OVER)

Look for the fastball up. He's

gotta come with the cheese. Relax.

Relax. Quick bat. Pop the

clubhead. Open the hips. Relax.

You're thinking too much. Get