Fat City

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Hey, kid.

Want to spar?

You a pro?

I used to be.

I'm a little out of shape now.

Come on. I won't hit you hard.

Maybe we can just fool around.

I'll teach you a few things.

You'd better put this on.

You look good.

Ready?

Bong.

You all right?

Good.

Hold it.

- You all right?

- Yeah, I pulled a muscle.

You okay?

I should have warmed up better.

I haven't fought

in a year and a half.

What's your name?

- Ernie Munger.

- How many bouts you had?

- None.

- You've never been in the ring?

No. I just came to the Y

to fool around a little.

- How old are you?

- Eighteen.

- You've never been in the ring?

- No.

Well...

I think you've got it, kid.

I ought to know

what I'm talking about.

I fought Efram Soto.

There was a time

when nobody could hit me.

They'd try, but I wouldn't be there.

- You ought to start fighting.

- No, I just come to fool around.

Listen...

don't waste your good years.

You know, you ought to go over

to the Lido Gym...

and see my manager, Ruben Luna.

Tell him I sent you... Billy Tully.

- I saw you fight once.

- Yeah?

- Did I win?

- No.

Don't you ever go home?

I just got here.

What's keeping him?

He can see we're sitting here.

- Can't you get him to serve us?

- Just take it easy. He'll be here.

You spineless son of a bitch.

You'd take anybody against me.

I want a cream sherry.

Earl and me got something

very wonderful together.

I love that man more than

any man's got a right to be loved.

If he left me, I couldn't make it.

I couldn't live without him.

Do you think he'd even raise his voice

and get me a drink? No.

He'll just sit there

and let them ignore us.

- Here he comes.

- Yeah, no thanks to you.

Two sherries.

I pulled a muscle.

I make up my mind

to go back into training...

I hardly get the gloves on...

I pull a muscle.

Earl, this guy's a fighter.

- Oh, yeah?

- Aw, Christ.

Why did I even mention it?

What do you know about it anyway?

- Not much.

- That's what I mean.

Sorry to bother you.

Why'd I open my mouth?

I apologize.

What do you want? I said I was sorry.

What more can I say?

- I hear you, baby.

- Jesus, you sure don't act like it.

I was sparring...

with this young kid.

He's a good prospect. He'd make a lot of

money someday if he was handled right.

A natural athlete.

What's his name?

You wouldn't know who he was

if he did tell you.

- Just asking.

- He's got to know everything.

Aw. Now he's mad.

He's not gonna talk.

He buts in, then he shuts up.

- I want to hear this. Go ahead.

- That's it.

Nothing more to hear.

That is all.

The kid is a natural...

and they come along

about one in a million.

He's so goddamned sour.

I don't see why

I can't have a little fun.

I believe that everybody has

a right to live his own life.

So screw everybody.

I want to say something.

I want to make a toast here

to this gentleman.

I'll make it short...

just a few words.

Here's to your health.

God bless you and keep you

in all your battles.

What is it?

Oh, for Christ sakes.

What do you want?

- Can't I even talk to anybody?

- I'm not stopping you.

No. No, you're not stopping me.

You just sit with your face shut

until the minute I start having fun.

I'm sick of your bellyaching.

Is it my fault you can't fit in?

Why can't you mind

your own business?

And that goes for the rest of you.

Oh, to hell with you.

Want to fight, kid?

- What's your weight?

- 175.

Yeah, you've got a very good reach.

Looking for a manager?

Yeah, I'm looking for Ruben Luna.

Thanks.

I'm Luna.

You want to see me?

I thought I'd work out a little bit.

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