A League of Their Own

- Come here, Bobby.

- Come on. Give me...

You might need that.

Where'd you find this?

It was in one of those cartons.

- Needs oil.

- Who doesn't?

You ready?

- I'm not going.

- Mom!

I already got two children,

I don't need a third.

Why is it so important that I go?

Well, for one thing, it'd be nice

if you just left the room.

Besides, these are your old friends.

They probably won't even

remember me.

The "Queen of Diamonds,"

Dottie Hinson?

I just don't think this is a good idea.

Oh, come on, Mom. I mean,

you're gonna get to see Aunt Kit.

- You hardly ever see each other.

- We still won't.

She'll be traveling around

with that husband of hers.

- Frank. He has a name.

- Frank.

And he's always been

very nice to you.

He makes me nervous.

- There's a lot of reasons why I can't go.

- Mom.

Honey...

...l'm not comfortable about this.

I'm not really part of it.

It was never that important to me.

It was just something I did.

When are you gonna realize how

special it was, how much it all meant?

I...

Yeah. I know how you feel.

I really do.

But you're going.

Car.

- A car, a train, a bus. I'm tired already.

- Sleep on the plane.

- Grandma's out. Is there a fire?

- Wisenheimer.

Julie next door is watching you.

I don't want any bad reports.

- Okay. Bye, Grandma.

- Bye.

Jeffrey, come here.

No matter what your brother does,

he's littler than you are.

Give him a chance to shoot. Promise?

- Yeah.

- Okay.

Bobby, come here.

Kill him.

Come on, you'll miss your plane.

Yeah!

Well, I still think I shouldn't go.

Get a hit, Beans!

I'm coming, Mae! I'm coming!

This week in the world of sports.

With the boys overseas

and off to war...

...baseball pitches in

for the war effort.

Trading bats for bullets,

Yankee Joe DiMaggio...

...promises to give

those Nazis a jolt.

Ace fireballer Bob Feller...

...has traded Cleveland gray

for Navy blue.

Baseball's biggest stars say:

"Look out, Mr. Hitler.

The Yanks are coming."

Not to mention the Indians,

Red Sox and Tigers.

And they won't come back

till it's over, over there.

Meanwhile, Chicago club owner

Walter Harvey, the candy-bar king...

...met with other team owners at the

Harvey Mansion as rumors persist...

...that baseball may be shut down

for the duration of the war.

Harvey's promotional whiz kid,

Ira Lowenstein...

...has been given the job of figuring

out how to keep baseball going.

Good luck, Mr. Lowenstein.

Strike 2!

Hey!

- Hey, fatso!

- Come on!

Get the hell out of the way!

What are you, crazy?

Strike 3!

Kit! Kit!

- Sis, don't swing at that high pitch.

- I can hit it.

- You can't.

- I can.

This bat's too heavy.

You'll never get it around.

I will!

Kit, Kit. Listen. There's a big hole

on the right side. Don't look.

- Unless she pitches inside, pull it.

- I know.

Batter up!

No high ones.

I like the high ones!

- Mule!

- Nag!

Come on, one more.

Easy out, easy out.

Come on, Kit.

Keep your eye on the ball.

Right in here, right here.

Strike 1!

Strike 2!

Too high. No.

All right, Kit. Look it over!

Look it over there!

Strike 3!

All right, two out, everybody.

That's two away!

- Better luck next time!

- Come on, Dottie!

- Knock it out of here!

- Okay, Dottie!

Two outs. Batter up!

Dottie!

- You can do it.

- Play ball.

Right in here, Becky.

Bring them in, bring them in!

Bring them in there, Dottie!

Ball!

- Keep your eye on it, Dottie!

- Come on, Becky.

Come on, Dottie! One hit and we win!

Dottie!

That's it, Dottie! You did it!

Great.

That's the ball game!

Dottie, Dottie, Dottie.

That was a swell hit. Good job!

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