A League of Their Own Page #3

Gotta look at another girl.

Hope you're not jealous.

- I'm sorry.

- It's okay, honey. That was good form.

Thattagirl!

Good, honey. Good, good.

Nice, nice. That's a rope, honey.

Good girl. Good, good.

Right, too high.

She's got an eye like DiMaggio.

Good. Good, good.

Okay, Marla. Now lefty.

She's really good.

- She's your daughter?

- Yeah. Yeah.

Her mom's dead.

It's just the two of us.

Coach said if she was a boy,

she'd go to the state tournament.

I said, "If she was a boy, I'd talk to

the Yankees instead of living here."

That's enough.

You can bring her over.

Okay, Marla. Come here.

Boys! Hit the showers!

- You did good.

- I threw everything I had.

Take off your hat, honey.

We'll let you know.

Daddy, I'm sorry.

Come on, let's go.

We'll miss the train.

Let's move, move, move!

What's the matter?

I can't use her.

She's great. Why not?

What's the problem?

You know General Omar Bradley?

- Yeah.

- There's too strong a resemblance.

You ain't taking her

because she ain't pretty?

Well, look who just caught up!

All right. Come on, let's go.

Pick those suitcases up! Come on!

I'm not kidding. Let's go. Move!

- One foot in front of the other.

- Hey, mister?

I know my girl ain't so pretty

as these girls.

But that's my fault.

I raised her like I would a boy.

I didn't know any better.

She loves to play.

Don't make my little girl suffer

because I messed up raising her.

Please?

- Come on, get on the train.

- I wish you had a decent mitt.

I think maybe I'd better not go.

No, you can relace it.

It'll be okay.

No, I mean, who's gonna

take care of you? Cook?

Help you take care of the equipment?

Don't you worry about me.

You're gonna play baseball.

I'm not gonna know anybody.

Marla.

Nothing's ever gonna happen here.

You gotta go where things happen.

I love you, Daddy.

- All aboard!

- Daddy.

- Let's go, let's go.

- All aboard.

Come on, honey.

Are you coming?

See, how it works is, the train moves,

not the station.

Bye, Daddy.

This is making me sick.

Write to me, honey.

I love you.

Goodbye.

Hey, cowgirls, see the grass?

Don't eat it.

Come on.

Okay, girls, this is it. Harvey Field.

Tryouts. Get out there.

Show them what you got.

Don't embarrass me.

It's been a thin slice of heaven.

Goodbye.

Wait. You're going?

Dry your eyes.

Yeah, I'm going home.

Grab a shower and a shave.

Give the wife a pickle-tickle,

and I'm on my way. I'll see you.

- But...

- But what?

Field! Tryouts! Play!

That's it! Get lost!

Come on, guys.

I hate when they get

attached to me like that.

You've got an arm.

- Hey, Mae.

- What?

- Come look at this.

- Wait a second, Doris.

I can't wait much longer, so get up.

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