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Julia James. I'm here for the meeting.
They're not quite ready for you.
Do you have a bathroom?
I just want to freshen up a bit.
Yeah, right over here. But, girl, you look good.
Shit.
They're ready... for you...
Who's the most stylish woman in the office about my size?
- Chantal, why... - I need you to go to Chantal.
Tell her there's a woman in the bathroom
who will give her $200 cash for her top.
Come on! I need your help.
I'm about to go into my tryouts for the big leagues.
If I show up like a girl from Morristown
who got nervous and pitted out,
it's over before I even open my mouth.
Please.
Give her the money.
You don't like what I'm wearing?
I just think we have different taste levels,
but it looks great on you.
Mr. Benjamin, you and I actually
have something in common.
We're both owners, and while Morristown
may be a different market than Tampa Bay,
we face the same problem...
baseball is dying.
You've seen the demographics.
Anyone under the age of 20 would rather watch e-sports
than a baseball game.
But I was able to increase attendance
in Scranton Wilkes-Barre by 60%. How?
'Cause I know there's one inescapable fact about baseball.
It's fun to go see a game.
Maybe boring as shit to watch on TV,
fade into the background on the radio,
but in person...
it's like the goddamn circus came to town.
Except without all the elephant torture.
What's your proposal?
Pick your worst spring training home date,
the one you know right now will be impossible to draw.
Allow me to run a promotion on it.
I guarantee it'll sell out,
because even with the obstacles Tampa Bay faces,
a shrinking fan base, a bad team,
the gator incident of '09...
Hey, that man still swears it was consensual.
I know how to get people to come to a baseball game.
And once I prove it,
you'll want to hire my consulting company,
Julia James Promotions, on some regular season dates.
Wednesday, March 13.
It's a 10:00 a.m. start time due to a rodeo
that's taking place in the parking lot.
So the whole place'll smell like cow shit.
How's that sound to you?
Like perfection.
Who we playing?
Oakland.
Great.
I don't really believe in fate, or destiny,
or good things happening,
but the fact that Jules' major league debut
is the same game that we're calling...
- I mean, what are the odds? - Pretty good, considering
you're both starting at the bottom
for the two worst franchises in baseball.
Well, thank you, Gabby.
You are the wind above my wings.
So what's going on with you two?
You getting back together, or...
I don't know. I mean,
one scenario that could play itself out
is we start with one to two phone calls a week
and the occasional brunch.
On a lark, we get a timeshare together in Ojai
with some mutual friends,
and, no, that's when the intimacy returns.
With a soupçon of sexual tension
thrown into the broth there.
In three to eight years,
when I finally do get my shit together,
we marry at the Ojai house
which is where it all began for us, really.
Our rescue dog, Satchel,
'cause we're not exactly sure how old he is,
he's gonna be the ring bearer.
So you're playing it cool. That's good.
That's our story, but what about you?
Are you seeing anybody?
Uh, I'm married, actually, to my wife, Gayle.
No wonder we get along so well.
I'm one of those straight men who has always preferred
the company of lesbians.
Oh, you mean like a "Dyke Mike"?
- Yeah, exactly. - No, I just made that up.
What you're describing does not exist.
Now wait, check out my bona fides here.
My sister Jean just came out as a lesbian.
She's one of my best friends.
I've seen all six seasons of the "L Word."
God, I'm such a Bette.
And, oh, Melissa Etheridge and I,
we invented our own strain of weed three years ago.
- We called it O.G. Bush. - I don't get it.
- See, 'cause it rhymes with kush. - Yeah.
- No, I get it. Listen, - Oh. Oh.
I don't like to discuss my sexuality at work,
'cause all it does is embolden straight white guys
to ask me a bunch of stupid, personal questions.
- Just... one question... - Nope. Nope. Nope.
If you ask me who leads when we dance, I swear to God.
No, my question is how do lesbians always
remain such good friends with their exes?
- That's a stereotype. - Is it though?
May I say that you look very nice today.
And I... no, I mean that in whatever way is appropriate
to this current...
Thank you.
Do you mind if I drink in front of you?
If it's a trigger, I can put it in a paper bag
or just take nips in the bathroom.
That's very considerate, but, no, I don't mind
if people drink in front of me.
No, my only triggers are dive bars
and the movies of Christopher Nolan.
That's right. You threw a whiskey bottle
- at my TV during... - "Interstellar."
I mean, I just want to be told the story of the goddamn movie.
I don't want to get taught a lesson
in how to solve the puzzle of what the hell I'm watching.
Could I get a pint glass of Chardonnay on the rocks?
I know you don't do that,
but really that just means you haven't done it yet,
'cause it's simple.
You fill a pint glass full of ice,
then charge me for your finest bottle of Chardonnay,
pour that bottle into the glass till it hits the brim.
Then keep the bottle handy, 'cause I need a buzz
to make it through this lunch.
I'm gonna make it worth your while.
Wow.
Oh, hey, I like Jules with money and power,
and I think the rest of the world...
- I'm dating someone. - I'm sorry?
I say I'm seeing someone.
Oh.
Okay.
Of course, you're great.
I'm sure you met somebody great.
- It makes sense... - Someone you know.
Really? Okay.
Listen, new Jim, totally fine with it.
We work in the same field.
I mean, it was inevitable, right?
It'd be weird if I didn't know this, uh...
- acquaintance? - It's a good friend of yours.
Okay, that narrows it down to zero, Jules.
No, I don't have any good friends.
Unless you're gonna tell me you're dating George Brett.
I'm gonna need a top off.
I'm dating George Brett.
Jules, seriously?
'Cause he's not a good friend, he's my one friend.
He's the only person that sends me a birthday card.
I mean, he's my goddamn emergency contact.
I know. That's how we met.
He was used to getting calls from hospitals
and brothels around the world,
and then you disappeared for a whole year.
He was worried. We all were.
He reached out, and then we hit it off.
Oh, so, I kind of brought you guys together.
- All right. - In a way.
- That's romantic. - And you know I always
had a crush on Crocodile Dundee growing up.
Yeah, well, George is very Paul Hogan-esque.
- Give you that. - I had to tell you,
'cause it's really serious.
We're moving in together.
Well, now that's surprising, Jules,
considering that you never
forgave me for leaving Morristown...
George is moving to Morristown.
Oh, get out of here. Come on.
- Yeah. - Okay,
um, I need a little time with this, but, um...
- There's more. - Oh, really?
You're not even gonna do me the courtesy
of stabbing in the back?
You're just gonna look me straight in the face
as you plunge the knife in, huh?
It's not a knife, it's just my life,
but, okay, I'll drop it.
Thanks.
What is it? What?
He's up for a studio job with Bob Costas
on the MLB network.
- Okay. - So I figured,
since you know Costas...
I haven't spoken to Costas since he got me
cut out of "Ken Burns's Baseball Documentary."
Yeah, I know all about your interview.
Yeah, an interview which will never be seen
in the definitive, visual history of the game
all because Bob Costas is the world's smallest asshole.
You... no, you want me to eat a cold plate of shit
and call him up, all to get your new boyfriend,
my best friend, a job?
Never mind.
I don't know why I even thought...
All right, you know what? I'm gonna do it.
- Really? - Mm-hmm.
- Why? - Because the old Jim
would have used this as an excuse
to go on a bender and try to catch
that super gonorrhea with both hands.
But I'm new Jim.
Thank you for supporting Tampa baseball.
During the game...
You know, the only things I know about George Brett
are he is a hall-of-famer, and, more impressively,
Lorde wrote her song "Royals" about him.
Thank you for that fun fact, Gabby.
You know what really chaps my ass though?
She had the balls, she had the cajones
to ask me to do her a favor
by calling up Bob Costas on the phone.
So what's the big deal?
The year's 1993, okay?
I'm walking into an interview as Costas is walking out.
I say, "Hey, Bob",
what kind of stuff does Ken Burns want to know?"
He says, "Oh, he's looking for all the X-rated details"
that nobody ever shares on camera."
So I sit down in front of Ken Burns
and I launch myself into this graphic
and detailed history of beaver shooting.
- I don't know what that is. - Most of baseball history,
the players like to sneak underneath the stands
and try to find the women who weren't wearing any underwear.
It's kind of like bird watching,
except, you know, for labias.
So that's what you thought Ken Burns wanted to hear?
Just a tradition of low-grade sexual assault?
The point of that story was not really
how Ken Burns' funereal tone
sands over the profane aspects of American history.
The point is Bob Costas fucked me
and didn't even have the decency to finger my ass first.
Wait, don't you always brag
that you gave Bob Costas pink eye in Sochi?
Yeah, I definitely did that.
So then you're even. Feud over.
Now you can go help the woman's who's heart
I assume you broke over and over.
It was just twice.
All right, we're on in three, two, one...
Welcome, everybody, to Port Charlotte, Florida,
home today not only of spring training baseball
but to the 2019 South Eastern Rodeo semifinals.
And although it's only 10:00 a.m.,
the broiling sun is reminding us all that livestock
are in fact defecating in very large numbers out there.
Smells so bad it actually hurts my feelings.
How about you, Gabby?
Yeah, I don't know what's worse, Jim.
That I can taste it or that I've gotten used to the taste.
Oh, definitely the latter, but what's remarkable
is that this stadium slash animal toilet
is somehow packed full of fans.
Oh!
Wow.
We haven't had a sellout here in, uh... ever.
Never had a doubt.
What's with all the phones?
Augmented reality. Future of live entertainment.
A composite between the real world
and the digital world.
Right now they're all playing a game
called "Beasts of Bedlam."
They're using their phones to battle and capture monsters.
So I partnered with the creators
and made the stadium a realm of rare creatures.
Video games on your phone.
My fat grandson plays those all the time,
but what's that have to do with baseball?
You promised me fans for life.
This...
this is a gimmick.
Top of the seventh, Ramirez on to pitch now for Tampa Bay
in what has been a very strange ball game.
Most of the crowd has been playing
some weird game on their phone.
Holy shit!
A new character was just released.
It's the baseball throwing guy.
On the field. On the hill.
Ramirez!
If he strikes out the next batter,
his character will buff 20%
and become the most powerful monster
in the M-O-B-A.
- Is that the MOBA? - Yep.
The MOBA. My goodness,
this is making me long for the days
when I did commercial reads
for the smooth taste of extra tar cigarettes.
Gabby, can you please tell me
what the heck it is that I just read.
If Ramirez strikes out Copeland,
basically I'll never lose a game
to my nieces and nephews again.
That didn't clear anything up.
Well, there's strike two.
Why are they all going crazy?
'Cause we just made the game real to them.
This'll be their favorite memory of favorite their thing,
and they'll be forever drawn to Tampa
to see if we're as fun as they remember.
Nostalgia. Swing, and strike three!
It's the most powerful drug there is.
Come by tomorrow.
I'll give you all the regular season dates I can.
Tomorrow doesn't work for me.
- Really? - I'm kidding.
- I was just... - Ah. Ah...
I like money. I'll be there.
Well, you did it, Jules.
- I did. - You did.
Have you called George yet? Tell him the good news?
Yup.
He doesn't really get the whole video game thing.
- I mean, he's from a different era. - Yeah.
I had to explain to him who Lorde is.
You know that he inspired her to write the song "Royals"?
I heard that. That's very cool.
You know, Jules, what you did here today,
that's one of the most amazing things I've ever seen,
and I once saw a triple play end a ball game. Ha.
Thank you.
Hope you and George go out
and just get drunk as two skunks tonight.
Nuh-uh.
No, no.
George is sober.
Sober as in serious,
like in how you would describe a hardened pilgrim woman
named Goodie who watched all of her children die?
No, I mean, he...
stopped drinking around the same time you did.
Will you excuse me for just a minute?
Yeah.
Everything okay?
Hooooow dare you!
How dare you date someone sober who isn't me!
All this time I thought you were just too damaged
to handle my sobriety,
but now I see I was just too young for you.
Turns out you wanted to fuck your dad.
- Okay, we're done. - Sorry, Jules, well...
I'm sorry. Jules.
Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry.
Look, I said some unforgivable things to you.
Now you say some unforgivable things to me... we'll be fine.
I don't want to say horrible things to you.
I don't want to say anything to you.
Great, just keep talking about how
you don't want to talk to me anymore.
Holy shit.
Look, can we at least talk...
Oh, my God. Can we talk about
what's going on with this loose pig?
I mean, the rodeo left hours ago.
Did it escape? Was it abandoned?
Why is it wearing a pirate hat?
No, seriously, I really feel like if ever there were
a worthy topic of conversation...
If I broke up with George right now,
would you even be capable of having a relationship?
Not at this point in my sobriety, no,
but I did just get a turtle though, so...
So you want me to just
keep putting my life on hold in perpetuity
while you get your shit together?
I mean, how would that even work?
Well, now, one scenario that could play out
is we start with one to two phone calls a week.
One to two phone calls a week?
Are you insane? We didn't work out!
You needed to get out and pursue your dreams,
and I had to stay and try to salvage mine.
I'm glad you're trying to get healthy,
but let me be clear.
We're never getting back together.
Ever!
Move the pig.
Well...
Holy shit, Jules, the pig's wearing a different hat.
Seriously, that's either a different pig
or he made a wardrobe change all on his own.
I mean, Jesus Christ. I really feel
that we should put our differences aside
and focus on this pig situation.
Move the pig, or I'm gonna run it over.
Understood. All right.
All right, Mr. Pig. Soo-ee.
Move along.
Hoo-ahh!
Jules, please don't leave.
I was ready to kill the magical pig.
What do you think I'll do to you?
I need you in my life, okay? I need to at least know
that if I called you someday you'd answer the phone.
What do I have to do to make this up to you?
George Brett is great, but so are a lot of people.
This is a big ask.
Yeah, but don't you think you kind of owe me
after the whole Ken Burns thing, Bob?
You know I only did that
because you and Joe Buck planted all that Swedish porn
and a dueling pistol in my suitcase
at the '93 All Star Game.
Yeah, but that was really funny, Bob.
The Baltimore airport police didn't think so.
Oh, yeah, that's why we planted the gun.
In all seriousness though, done a lot of work on myself.
I'm finally in a place where I can admit to you
that that was 100% Joe Buck.
Joe Buck. I warned you about him.
No, you were right. Not all sociopaths are serial killers.
- Punk. - Punk ass bitch.
Oh, God.
You know, I forgot how delightful it is
to share a meal with a fellow raconteur.
You know, one time I had dinner with Dick Cavett.
It turned into a two-week river cruise of the Danube.
We were on Peter Bogdanovich's houseboat.
Well, we should do this again sometime soon.
Aw.
You know, I feel like I should get something off my chest.
Part of the program is we, uh,
we make amends to people we feel we have wronged.
- Yeah. - And uh...
Bob, I was the one who gave you pink eye
at the Sochi Olympics.
- What? - Yeah.
Now, you ever been to Ojai?
They got a delightful bistro there...
I don't understand.
All the doctors told me it was viral.
Oh, it was. Oh, it took some doing.
I mean, I have connections with the Russian Mafia.
And... but the tough part was getting into the second eye.
You son of a bitch!
I've won 28 Emmys, a Peabody,
hosted who knows how many Olympics,
World Series, Super Bowls, NBA Finals,
and nobody gives a shit about any of that anymore.
But that's why I want to make it up to you.
After all I've done, if you Google my name,
the first thing that comes up is pink eye.
Before all the honors, even before Bob Costas' feet.
And as it happens, my feet are goddamn delightful.
Well, now, Bob, does this mean you,
you're not gonna help out George Brett?
Oh, no, I'm gonna help him, and you know why?
Just so that every day I can think about how George Brett
is satisfying your ex-girlfriend
in ways you never dreamed of.
So long, douche bag.
Okay. Ow.
Just because you put hollandaise on a hot dog,
it doesn't make it a Benedict, Steve.
Good God.
Oh, boy, George Brett.
- How you doing, Jim? - Oh, I'm good.
Hey, I can't thank you enough
for putting in a good word for me.
- It means the world to me. - Sure, George. Sure.
We cool?
Oh, yeah, we're cool, George.
Did you really move to Morristown?
Butler Heights.
Ten miles out of town, that way you're up on a hill
and above that smell. That's smart.
You always were the smart one, George.
- You know how great she is. - I do.
That's why I want you to give her
all the love that she deserves.
- So we're cool? - George, we're cool.
Okay, buddy. Good to see you.
Okay, you too.
Hey, hey, you know who I just saw?
Crocodile Dundee.
It was George Brett, Gus. Are you kidding?
Oh. Hey, you know that singer Lorde?
She wrote a song called "Royals"...
I know. Lorde wrote the song "Royals" about George Brett.
I'm aware that the man's magnetism was so intense
that a single image of him autographing baseballs
was enough to inspire a 17-year-old Kiwi goth teen
to write the biggest single of the 21st century.
So glad I know it too, Gus. You know why?
'Cause every time I hear that song,
which because it's a modern classic
should be pretty much all the time,
I get to be reminded about how the love of my life
traded up and is never ever coming back to me again.
Great talking to you as always, dummy.
Hey, I just saw a guy who looked like Crocodile Dundee!
Open with runners in scoring position
for the first time here this afternoon
as Stubblefield looks at a fastball
on the outside corner for a strike.
2-0. Check it, 1-1.
Sorry about that, folks.
Breaking ball, missed outside this time, 1-2.
Just did it again.
- Count's 2-2. - 2-1.
My goodness, three decades of broadcasting,
I don't think I've ever butchered the count.
At least not quite that badly.
Well, it's spring training for broadcasters too, Jim.
So it is. Thank you, Gabby.
Stubblefield fouls that one down the right side,
2-1... no, 2-3.
2-3? Doesn't even make any sense.
Sorry, folks, check it. 2 balling...
2 balls... and tiny...
Jim, are you having a stroke?
I wish. I think I have the yips.
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