Bad News Bears

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Nice. Sorry, good catch.

Boys, lunch is ready.

Here we go.

Ain't no doubt about it, lady,

you got a shitload of rats down there.

Damn, is it 3:
00?

I gotta get out of here.

But wait,

what about my basement?

Well, just call and make a follow-up

appointment. It's no problem.

But...

Bring it in, here you go.

Got one of those for me?

Nice try, you little creep.

Mr. Buttermaker.

Mr. Buttermaker. You're late.

I got held up, sorry about that.

Jesus! Are you drinking?

Hell, no. That's nonalcoholic.

I'm driving, you know.

I'm so sorry.

You hear that, Toby?

Drinking and driving don't mix.

That's right.

Stay away from crack too.

One hit of that,

and you'll wake up in prison

married to some guy

named Big Blue,

and he's branding his initials in

your ass with a hot coat hanger.

I knew a guy.

Yes, crack is bad too.

Yeah, I know.

But we are really excited

to have you do this,

and Toby is really excited to play,

aren't you, honey?

Between his trumpet lessons,

photo club, Boy Scouts and swimming,

this is his favorite, isn't it, honey?

Can you believe they tried to

keep these kids out of the league?

All kids should be able to play baseball,

no matter what their skills.

Well, I think they heard me

loud and clear.

All that aside,

forget I filed the injunction.

Just go out there and have fun.

Don't let the legalese crimp

your enthusiasm in any way.

Yeah, I got enthusiasm

flying out my ass.

Got the check?

It's a shame none of the fathers

could be here.

Is that thing glued to your fingers?

I almost forgot.

I think it's really important,

what we're doing for the kids.

I feel really good about it, don't you?

Yeah.

Toby, have fun.

- Mr. Buttermaker?

- Yeah.

Is it true you were on the Mariners?

Long ago and far away.

Here, carry that.

Where do we get the equipment?

Over there.

Sorry the stuff's so ratty,

but this is a six-team league,

and I'm afraid your boys are getting

the S-H-I-T end of the stick.

Yeah, I can spell "sh*t," all right.

Does she think I'm 11?

Girl softball players.

I think we all know

what that means, right?

- How you doing? Ray Bullock.

- Hey, Morris Buttermaker...

No, no, no.

No introduction necessary.

Morris "The Blade" Buttermaker.

Carving up batters, one by one.

Sound familiar? I used to watch you

over at Regis Field in high school.

You were amazing. Man, I was

just a kid, but you owned it.

It's great you're doing this, Morris.

Really.

I mean, a pro. Finally,

somebody who gets it, you know?

I gotta tell you,

a lot of these dads, they don't...

They don't understand the dedication

that it takes to run a serious program.

No offense, but that "Ms." Whitewood

friend of yours,

she's not helping things, you know.

I mean, yeah, I get it,

we were a little selective.

Kept some of the lesser players out.

But stopping the season

till we complied?

Come on.

This is a serious program.

Not because I want it that way, either.

It's for the kids, you know?

Listen to me going on and on.

You know what it takes.

Anyway, I think we're gonna

have a lot of fun.

Learn a lot from each other,

you know?

You know, I never thought

I'd hear myself say,

"Look at the ass

on that second baseman."

But look at the ass

on that second baseman.

A lot of brisket butt.

All right.

Well, listen, I'll see you around.

Or stop by, see me sometime.

I'm over at Chevy Valley Subaru.

"Quality you can drive."

All you need is a jar of honey

and a glass coffee table.

It's more fun than a taffy pull,

I promise you.

Buttermaker!

Buttermaker, they're here.

See you later, Buttermaker.

Come on.

Kid, let me explain

something to you, okay?

All right, listen up.

- Tanner Boyle.

- Yeah, here.

- Mike Engelberg.

- Here.

Timmy Lupus?

Timmy Lupus?

Raise your hand, Lupus.

He can't see you sitting behind

- Planet Fat Ass.

- Up your cornole, Tanner.

Come on, come on.

Play nice.

Hey, hey.

Let go of him.

- Prem Lahiri?

- Present.

But you don't have to use me.

I'm just doing this for

my transcript, for college.

Okay.

Let's see, Toby White...

Oh, Whitewood, I know you're here.

Matthew Hooper?

Matthew Hooper?

Okay, no Hooper.

The hell?

Garo Dara-gaga-braga-dagian.

What the hell is that,

- Aztec or something?

- Armenian.

Same sh*t. They both built pyramids.

All right.

- Ahmad Abdul Rahim?

- Here.

Yo, bro, what up?

Nothing much. Just ready

to play some baseball.

Twenty-five, huh?

- Ken Griffey, right?

- No.

- Satchel Paige?

- No.

No? Willie Mays?

No, it's Mark McGwire.

Mark McGwire? But he's a white.

Yes, he's from Claremont.

He's my favorite player.

Okay.

Agilar. Miguel and Jose.

You guys twins?

You can save it, son.

I don't understand a damn thing

you're saying, okay?

All right.

Got the damn

League of Nations here.

Their dad's our gardener. Mom said

we need them to fill out the team.

Okay, let's hit the field. Come on.

- Jeez. Could this team be any lamer?

- So there's no Hooper?

You don't know

a Matthew Hooper?

- You know where he is?

- Right here.

You gotta be shitting me.

That's right, I'm in a wheelchair.

Okay.

Charge it.

Oh, yeah, that's charging it, all right.

Good hustle.

There you go, bro.

Another good one.

What's the...?

What's the cripple kid's name?

- Hooper.

- Hooper. Hooper!

Roll your machine up.

Don't necessarily

have to catch it, I guess.

Can't hope for miracles, can you?

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