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°¨»çÇÕ´Ï´Ù.
Á¦ÀÛ : iamy1004 (iamy1004@hanmail.net)

There's a dream that's as old as natural grass, and nickel hot dogs...

And being young.

 

It's a dream every kid shares.

The one big moment. Hero time.

Of course, when you're five...
That dream doesn't seem out of reach.

Everyone plays the game about the same.

Bad.

 

Still, for all your short-comings...
You've got the one thing that matters most.

Potential.

 

Then...As springtime rolls into fall, and Little League gives way to summer jobs...somehow...

The dream gets left behind.

For most of us, anyway.

Hey, I might try out for the team this year!

Of course, there was the occasional glaring exception.

Paul, you're nuts.

You're gonna be up against ninth-graders.

Only the best guys make the team!

Come on - you love baseball.
Wouldn't you like to play on the team?

I mean... You hit almost as good as I do.

My mother hit better than Paul did.

This isn't Little League. Some of these guys can throw, like...a thousand mile an hour!

No duh!

Still, the great thing about my best friend was...

He never gave in to reality.

Come on, Kev - think about it!

The smell of the grass...
The crack of the bat...in your hands...

The breeze blowing in from the outfield...

The feeling you get when the ball hits... smack in the webbing!

The roar of the crowds!
The smell of the hotdogs!

Kevin - this is baseball!

Anything is possible!

Aw, heck.

It wasn't up to me...
To smash Paul's dream.

Excuse me.

There were plenty of other guys...
To do that.

Thanks.

 

Anything can happen.

Well, I was his best friend...

And if he was determined to go through with this...

There was only one thing I could do.

 

Stee-rike two!

Watch him go down in flames.

Lomax... You holdin' back?

Coach Baker.
The guy who made the decisions.

The guy who stood between you...
and the dream. The guy...

You're throwin' like a girl!

Who called you a girl.

Start followin' through! Keep the ball down!

It wasn't fair, really - those other guys had skills Paul didn't.

Like hand-eye coordination. Somebody...

Had to give him a little support.

Hey, Paul!

Don't let him fool you with his curve ball.

 

That was his curve ball?

 

Keep workin' on your stretch!

And don't forget to follow through!

Open your stance up a little bit!

And don't crowd the plate!
And keep the bat up!

Keep your "kit" down!

Just...Try to get a piece of it!

OK. So maybe we separate agendas, here.

But at least now, Paul had a chance of...

Strike three!

Looking good while he struck out.

It's OK, Pfeiffer...

That's the way to stand in there.

 

Well, at least...
He couldn't say I hadn't warned him.

Anybody else? Come on -
let's get another batter up here...

Don't worry about it.

I struck out.

 

Hey, kid!

What's your name?

Kevin. Arnold.

Want to take an at bat, Arnold?

No... No. No, thanks.

Why not?

If you can hit...half as good as you coach...

We might be able to use you.

No, no, I really didn't come to try out, so...

That's up to you.

I guess it's a lot easier...

Staring at a fastball...behind the fence, huh?

Well, I had a choice.

I could either stand here, and let this guy embarrass me... In front of everybody...

Or...

I could do it myself. After all...

This wasn't my tryout.

I was just gonna stand up there...
And take three swings.

Pick 'em up! Pick 'em up! Pick 'em up!

Get the ball - hurry!

Or...maybe just one.

 

I can't believe this happened.

Me either.

Man, the first pitch, and you nailed it.

A lucky hit.

Sure.

He almost got it by you...

I know.

You swung so late...
You put it in the opposite field.

Well, it was understandable.

What did I expect from Paul?

Congratulations? A candy-gram?

Look, Paul - it was just a lucky hit, OK?

I mean, there's no way I'm goin' back!

And I wasn't.

Our long-standing friendship...
Meant more to me than -

Going back where?

 

Baseball tryouts.

Oh...

But wait a minute.

Was that an actual glimmer of interest in the old man's eye?

You tried out for baseball?

 

Hmmm.

There's nothin' quite like the feeling you get when your father...

"Hmmm's" at you with pride in his eyes.

Well...

No... He just made this one lucky hit.

It wasn't luck, Paul!

So much for long-standing friendships.

I nailed it on the first pitch.

So... You went out for the team?

- Not really. He just -
- Yeah, I did!

I thought I'd give it a shot.

So? Did ya make the team?

Well... There are still some more tryouts, but the coach told me to come back tomorrow.

No kiddin'?

 

Yep, when your dad looked at you like that...

You felt like you could do anything.

Strike one!

Well...

Almost anything.

Come on, Arnold. Nice, easy swing - just like you did yesterday.

Right. Got it.

Alright. Nice easy swing.
Just relax.

Sure, "relax".

Nothin' on the line here, right?
Except...

Come on, Kev!

Give it a rip!

My entire adolescent manhood.

 

OK - the pressure was on.

But...I was up to it.

Strike two!

Give it a little ride, Kev!

All I needed here was a little concentration.

All I had to do was make contact.

All I had to do was...

 

Strike three!

Whiff.

Alright, Martin - you're up. Come on.

Arnold? Take over at second.

OK, then. I'd have to hit the field...
And try to save a little face.

 

Or fall on it.

 

Alright - let's hit the showers!

Let's go! Let's go!

I'll have the list up when you get out.

And there ya had it.

Time to face up to reality.

Take my medicine like a loser.

Coach, uh...

You made a couple of good plays out there.

What?

Let's try to make a few more, tomorrow. OK?

You made the... Cut?!

Uh-huh...

I'd made the first cut.

Never mind I had no idea why.

I didn't know they had tryouts for batboys.

Hey... Knock it off.
Your brother did good out there today.

Really?

Really?!

Coach says he has potential.

Yeah, that must be it. "Potential".

The magic word.

Well, congratulations, honey.

So, Dad.

You and Coach Baker talked for a long time.

Anything besides potential come up?

So what'd he say about me, Dad?

Don't leave anything out, now.
Adjectives...superlatives...

Oh, yeah...

Kevin's coach...Is Ted Baker.

- No!
- Uh-hmmm.

You know the coach?

Yeah, we were in the Corps together.

How interesting...
But back to the old superlatives.

How's his wife?
What was her name?

Arlene. You know...both of his kids are in college already?

- No!
- Uh-hmm.

Fascinating.
But what did that have to do with me?

Ted invited me...Back for tomorrow.

Woops.

 

Here's what it had to do with me.

Errors...bobbles...

Humiliation...

 

Not that I didn't have my moments.

It's just that my moments seemed to interfere...

 

With their moments.

Five errors.

Six...

Hey, there's always tomorrow, guys.

But I doubted it.

Sorry, kid.

 

I had to cut ya.

Better luck next time.

 

Arnold? I'll see you tomorrow.

 

What was goin' on here?

It didn't add up.
Potential was one thing, but...

Too bad... My dad's not so buddy-buddy with the coach.

 

"Buddy-buddy with the coach"?

 

Congratulations.
Teddy said you made the cut.

"Teddy"?

I found these out here.
You can take 'em back tomorrow.

OK.

 

Come on. Toss me a couple.

 

- Dad...
- Come on.

See if you can get one past your old man.

Part of me wanted to know the truth.
And part of me didn't.

OK, now - gimme your best shot.

Teddy says your arm needs work.

 

Come on...no creampuffs!

I didn't know what to think.

About Dad and Coach Baker.

About making the cut.

About a childhood dream that just days before... Had seemed to be...in the palm of my hand.

Fire it in, now!

All I knew was, I was about to throw a baseball harder than I'd ever thrown one in my life.

 

And what had been in the palm of my hand...

Was now out of the ballpark.

 

So. How'd it go at try-outs?

Six errors, two strike-outs.

Well, there's always next year.

I made the cut.

 

Congratulations.

This was getting to be too much.

 

What I needed to do was just sit down... With my Jell-O cubes...

My french fries...
and my girlfriend.

Hi!

Hi...

 

What's wrong?

Um, it's nothing.

 

Kevin? If something's bothering you, maybe I can help.

Well, maybe I should tell her.
If anyone would understand...

It would be Winnie.

Well...

It's tryouts.

You see, I'm having this problem...

Uh-huh...

And...I can't figure it out.
I don't know what to do.

And I'm really trying hard, ya know, cuz...it's important to me.

Do you understand anything at all I'm saying, Winnie?

I do.

OK, this was what I needed!
A little dollop of feminine sensitivity.

Try choking up a little more.
And widen your stance.

That'll help you get the bat around quicker,

and that way your swing won't be so late, and you can meet the ball out over the plate.

Great...

Everybody's an expert.

 

Tryout day number three.

Four strike-outs, five errors, and what's worse...

Congratulations, Arnold.

You made the cut.

 

OK - this had gone far enough.

And now, it was time to find out why.

 

Arnold...

Without mincing words.

What time are tryouts tomorrow?

Same time as every day.

Right.

O-kay...

Enough chit-chat.
Let's cut to the chase.

Why do I keep making the cuts?

 

I think I know what you're gettin' at, Arnold.

 

You've been making a lot of errors.

And you haven't been handling the bat the way you'd like.

And you're wondering...
why I keep you around...

I think you and I know the answer to that. His name...

Oh, no.

Is Charlie Hustle.

Huh?

You have a lot of desire, kid - a lot of heart!

That's one of the first things I look for in a player.

Really?

You bet. You can keep your hot-shots who think somebody owes them a starting position.

Just give me one guy who loves the game.

One guy who plays his heart out.

One guy you can count on.

"One guy". Could that be me?

Maybe I'd been all wrong.
Maybe I did have potential.

Maybe making the cuts hadn't had anything at all to do with...

Your dad saved my life in Korea?

Huh?

Never told ya, huh?

Doesn't surprise me.

Yeah...pulled me out of the line of fire, once.

 

There's nothing I wouldn't do for that man.

 

You saved my life!

Ah, forget it.

No, I owe ya, Arnold.
Anything - just name it!

Well...Ya know, someday I may have a son.

If you're ever in a position to put him on a baseball team, I'd really appreciate it.

Consider it done.

You know, in fact...
it would be nice if...

He were a starter.

Well, you know...I can't promise anything.

Look out!

 

Ah...starter it is.

Yeah. And I'm sure he'd like to play somewhere in the infield.

Well, I don't know...

Look out! Look out!

 

How about short-stop?

Come on.
Let's get the hell outta here!

 

It gave a whole new meaning to the concept of war...

Knowing that millions of brave men had gone off to fight and saved lives...

Just so their inept sons...
Could play junior high school baseball.

Hey, ya know? I've been thinkin'.
This mitt of yours is gettin' kinda ratty.

How'd ya like to go out...and get a new one?

A new mitt?

Yeah - why not?

 

I don't need a new mitt.

Hey - wait'll you get a whiff of that fresh new rawhide on your hand.

What d'ya say?

Though moments like this from my father were rare...

It wasn't hard to see what he was feeling.

Unfortunately...I also had an idea of why.

There's no way I could break it in, in time for tomorrow.

Course not. I just have a feelin' you're gonna need it...after tomorrow.

And there it was - the smoking gun.

The dead giveaway.

We'll go down to Kel's sporting goods......they must have a ton...... in stock right now.

 

Come on - it'll be fun, Kev.
Let's go!

Look. I don't want a new mitt.
I can do fine with my own, OK?!

Let 'em get his own mitt.

I was sick of playing someone else's game.

The only thing I wanted...was to prove that I didn't need any favors.

That I deserved to be here.

I wanted...To prove it to the guys trying out...

To the couch...

But most of all, I wanted to prove it...to myself.

Alright, let's go!

Let's look alive out there!

This is it - there's no tomorrow!

Show me what you got out there!

Alright, if I did have anything to show,
I was gonna show it now.

 

Stee-rike one.

 

Nice shot!

Thanks.

 

You bust one?

Yeah.

Alright...come and get a new one.
Let's go! Hustle!

Why bother? I could play as bad as I wanted to.

I could strike out nine times in a row.

I could try out for band...and still make this team.

Hey, Horton! Let's look alive out there! And "Torchillo"...you're playing too deep in center!

Baker's final cuts.

I didn't even have to look.

It was humiliating, it was degrading.
- More! More! Over, more!

I oughtta cross my name off that list.
- Come on, now - I want to see some hustle!

Except...I didn't have to.

Hey, you!

I'd been cut!

Katt - move over there, and cover that line over there.

It was unbelievable. It was...great!

It meant my dad hadn't been pulling strings for me.

He'd just been pulling for me.

Let's look alive, out there!

It meant I really did have potential.

OK, now - batter up.

 

As I stepped back up to the plate...

All the cares, all the worries, all the burdens I'd carried around for the past few days just disappeared.

Alright, come on, now, Arnold!
Give it a poke. Give it a ride!

Suddenly, the outside world...
Fell away.

It was just me.

And baseball.

 

Come on, Kevin - give it a rip!

Let's go!

Come on, Kevin - give it a rip!

My moment had arrived.

 

And I knew what I had to do.

 

I'm not sure how I did it.

My memory begins with the crack of the bat.

And the sight of the ball rising...

 

The Giants win the pennant!
The Giants win the pennant!

They're going crazy!
They're going crazy!

I don't believe it!
I don't believe it!

 

Maybe that's not exactly the way it happened...

 

but that's the way...
It should have happened.

And that's the way I'd like to remember it.

 

And if dreams and memories sometimes get confused, well...

That's as it should be.

 

Because every kid deserves to be a hero.

 

Every kid already is.

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Á¦ÀÛ : iamy1004 (iamy1004@hanmail.net)