The Outfield Page #2

Oh, well,

right this way, please.

Watch your step over

our little helper friend here.

It's kind of a charity thing.

We do a lot of that here at

Austin York's Batting Bonanza.

Right this way.

So we have Jack Sanders here,

all-star,

hitting in this cage if Ackerman

would just load the machine!

Cage three, right?

Yes.

Uh, 40 bucks.

There's no student discount?

Let me guess, Oak Lawn?

Uh, how'd you know?

Platinum is the card of choice

among Peoria's elite.

Shoot. We left

the bats in the cage.

What's so funny?

It's easy to do

when you're used to people

picking up after you.

Excuse me?

He dies, by the way, Gatsby.

At the end of the book,

Wilson mistakes him

for Tom and shoots him.

I know. I saw the movie too.

Hey, there he is,

the future of Tiger Baseball.

- Coach Schoffman.

- Hey.

Take a load off, son.

I didn't realize

you were in town, sir.

Yeah. I'm taking a look

at a couple of... thank you...

a couple of juniors

over at East.

Do you know Greg Sanford

and Doug Millan?

- Hey, Jackie.

- Hey, Dad.

Played against Sanford

in the Final Four last year.

So how are things going?

Really good. Just, you know,

working on my swing.

Oh, well, you know,

the hitting coach at State

is one of the best

in the game...

that is, of course,

if you sign with us.

But no pressure.

Well, I got a lot of homework

I should probably go

get started on.

All right, all right.

Well, it's always good

to see you, kid.

You too, sir.

- Night, bud.

- Night, Dad.

Oh.

Oh, I remember

when your mom took this.

How is she?

Have you heard from her lately?

She doesn't exactly keep

us apprised of her movements.

Of course, right.

Sit down. Sit.

Where are my cleats?

Guys, Dad...

where are my cleats?

Joey, Tommy...

I need...

Get out of the way.

I don't know

where your cleats are.

I need to find my cleats.

- I don't know where they are!

- I don't know, man!

- Frankie.

- Ah.

Joey, you all set for Thursday?

This iron has seen better days.

Mom, it's okay. Mom. Mom.

Okay. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

- What time's the game?

- 12:
30.

All right.

Why don't you boys

stop by the diner afterwards

and I'll fix you

something to eat?

Sounds good, Ma.

Hey, Einstein.

Hey, he's a ballplayer.

Oh, excuse me.

Mr. Mantle, don't forget.

You got obligations

after the game.

What kind of obligations?

He's a big boy now.

Don't worry so much.

I just have to drive

them somewhere.

It's nothing big.

All right. Thanks.

Found 'em.

- Hey, Jack. Can we talk?

- Uh, not now, Dad.

Shh. All right, I'm hiding.

Why's your door locked?

Jack?

Hey, Dad. What's up?

Why are you so sweaty?

Oh, you know, I was just, uh...

cleaning.

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