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You'd probably really like my ex-wife.
I mean, most people do.
Well, most men do.
With hindsight, Lucy and I probably should have
gotten to know each other better.
You know, the only things we had in common
were high sex drives and our firm belief
in the film career of David Caruso.
Both of those caused us just years of heartbreak.
All of which couldn't have been avoided
with just a couple of more sober dates like this one.
Yeah.
This is a really sober date.
Just the soberest.
Isn't it?
Two people out enjoying each other
on a bright, sunny afternoon.
So unbelievably sunny.
Are you sweating from every pore as well?
Yes.
Maybe it's the aerodynamics of this bike?
I feel like we're pedaling an IMAX screen.
Well, would you like to, uh,
as the kids say, uh...
pull over and park?
Uh, really? Ooh.
I feel like I'm... every inch of me is sticky.
But sure, yeah, let's make out at 11:00 a.m.
- Yeah? - Yeah.
- What the heck, right? - Okay.
Look, I've been dying for you to make a move for weeks.
But it's way too hot for any form of physical embrace.
Agreed. So, uh...
Well, just lips and tongue then.
- Sure. - Okay.
Uh...
- Okay, I'm calling it. - We really tried!
We did. We tried.
I caught that broadcast you and Gabby did.
- Yeah? - That was, uh... unique.
Well,
we got some nice think pieces out of it.
Also some pretty strong backlash,
but then there was a pretty big backlash
to the backlash.
- So... - Hey, listen.
You two broadcast a spring training game
and made people give a shit.
They should pin a goddamn medal on both of you.
I told the Oakland brass
my dying wish is that
you and Gabby take over the TV booth.
Well, boy, Matt, I appreciate that gesture,
but I really wish you would not talk like that.
What? Dying wish?
That's just something you say from a hospital bed
to get what you want.
Got me that pallet of Dunkaroos.
- Holy shit. - Yeah.
Those things are discontinued.
I mean, it's like I'm eating dodo eggs.
Hey.
- Hey, Jim. - Hey, Maggie.
Thank you.
I didn't know you'd be here today.
I am.
How... how are you?
- Good. - Excellent.
- Thank you. - Oh, well, laters.
Mm-hmm.
Wow.
I was gonna ask how the date went,
but it's pretty clear you did not dunk your roo.
Did not.
Yeah, I... she's the first person
I've ever tried to be with in sobriety.
You know, I have absolutely no clue
how to convince somebody
to have sex with me without the aid of alcohol.
You just need practice.
Here, I'll help you.
Come on. Try and fuck me.
No. No, no.
No, I take role play very seriously.
Neither of us are in the proper wardrobe,
and my wig guy is still in Baltimore, so...
What... what are you afraid of?
Come on. Don't be a pussy.
I'm already in bed half naked,
Come on, see if you can get your dick sucked.
- Make a move. Let's go. - Uh, all right.
Hey, hey.
Jeez, what... get... No!
- Ew! Gross. Pass! - Come on.
Just grabbing a handful of titty?
I'm not your whore, Brockmire.
Try it again.
Remember I'm a goddamn lady.
Hang on. You got a little eyelash there.
Hold on.
Oh, I see. You're doing "eyelash"?
- Are you kidding me? - What?
What are you, the Fonz?
- Oh, all right. - Do I look like Pinky Tuscadero?
Get out of 1974, you desperate hack.
God, you're terrible at this!
I told you that I was.
Look. All right. Let's just try this.
This'll be another unique experience for you.
Be honest.
Tell her you want her
to take your sober virginity,
but you're scared.
The vulnerability angle worked great for me
when I first got diagnosed with cancer.
Got a ton of ass.
Weren't you still married to Meegan
when you were first diagnosed?
Yeah, we had one of those marriages
where we both agreed to be terrible people.
I had one of those.
Well, she had that agreement.
So you ready to go get dinner?
You know, before we go out,
do you mind if I take a shower?
I came here straight from work.
- Here? - Mm-hmm.
- Now? - Yeah.
Yeah, sure. Go right ahead.
There's towels and stuff in there.
Okay.
So I'll just be naked in there
should you need anything.
It'd be weird if you weren't.
I mean, wouldn't it?
Yeah.
Okay.
Am I missing something?
- Whoa! - Oh!
I forgot Clemenza was in there.
So sorry about that.
It's all right. You can shower with him.
He likes to wet his little toesies.
Just... if he starts nipping at you, he's not kidding around.
That's his one flaw. He lacks a sense of humor.
Uh, can you get him out of here?
Oh, of course.
My bad. I am so sorry.
Come on, Clemenza.
Not nice to scare the nice lady.
It's not funny.
You know, I've been looking for the right moment
to talk to you about our whole deal here.
The thing is, I've never had a relationship sober.
Boy, I've never even had sex sober.
Yeah, come to think of it,
I don't think I have ever seen a naked woman...
Say, how are you?
'Cause that...
I like every bit of that.
Shut up and kiss me, please.
Absolutely.
Mm.
Hey, before we get into this, I have a confession to make.
I used to listen to your podcast all the time.
I just... I didn't want you to see me as some weird groupie.
Oh, no. I love groupies.
No, seriously.
They guarantee that at least one person
in this relationship likes me.
All those stories you used to tell
about your sexual exploits around the world...
- Yeah. - Really turned me on.
- Really? - Mm-hmm.
Well, then allow me to introduce you
to a veritable buffet of sexual delights.
A smorgasbord of orgasm-inducing delicacies
from around the globe.
I'm talking about the Chi-Town Get-Down.
A Thousand and One A-Labian Nights.
Ooh, the Bangkok Bang Cock.
The Bangkok Tangkok.
Now, that last one, that involves
us going to the store to get Tang.
But, uh, it's worth it.
Hey.
- Nothing's happening down there. - I know.
Is everything okay?
My penis normally jumps up,
like a rambunctious golden retriever
on his way to the park.
Could I give it a try myself?
- Sure. - I call this maneuver.
"Billy Joel's the Stranger."
See, 'cause I go in lefty.
Okay.
Um...
- I have an idea. - Yeah.
I'd like to take my penis and fold it in half
and just kind of jam it on in there with my thumb
in hopes that once it gets wet it will expand
like one of those fun dinosaur sponges.
What do you say?
Give it a try?
- Cool. Yeah. - It could work.
Okay.
Boy, I am so sorry.
So I'ma stop.
And I'm gonna work through my shame
by going down on you.
So, you know,
clear out your next couple hours.
Because my overcompensation
is gonna become your erotic marathon!
Here I go.
All right.
Just getting into position.
Hello, my hooded friend.
Okay.
I mean, I don't like to toot my pussy-eating horn here,
but it was... No, it was a bravura performance.
She would have given me a standing O,
well, if her legs had still worked.
But... even my enjoyment at her total
and complete satisfaction
could not rouse my hibernating hog.
It was just... it was devastating, people.
You know.
I mean, I'm sure I'm not the only man in here
to have dealt with impotence.
I mean, am I right, guys?
Hmm? Really, guys?
I mean, there's more handicap placards out there than cars.
But in this room full of medical maladies,
I'm the only human being to have dealt with this issue.
Is that what you're telling me?
Larry?
Look at me, Larry.
I'm looking at you, Larry.
Because you're an elderly gentleman
with circulatory problems
who's battling prostate cancer,
yet somehow, some way,
you're just hard as a rock down there on demand?
Is that it?
Jim.
They had to amputate your foot, Larry.
'Cause not enough blood was flowing to it.
Probably all just pooling there
in your rock-hard Johnson, huh?
Come on, Jim.
Are you hard right now, Larry?
Jim, knock it off.
If we wheeled you into the center of the room,
could we play ring-toss with it?
- Jim! - Larry!
Jim!
Larry!
Have some regrets about the way I handled things with Larry.
I do think that most of his tears
were due to his time in Nam, though.
Well, you know, you have only yourself to blame.
A man with anxiety so bad he can't count out loud
should not be trying to get a boner in front of a stranger.
Well, I've never had the dick yips, Shirley.
Mm-hmm. Sure.
- I haven't. - Okay.
A woman once chipped her tooth on my whiskey dick
during a particularly sloppy blowjob.
Well, maybe your penis is trying to tell you
that it's too soon to date.
You're still working the steps.
So what, my dick has a moral compass now?
After all the appalling things it's had me do?
A month ago, it made me fuck a croissant.
I'm so in my head with this thing,
I can't even get it up to masturbate anymore.
Can you believe that?
My dong is like some kind of
sad little one-eyed Charlie Brown
that's too depressed to even lift his head up.
God, I wish the program allowed me to take Viagra.
Well, it does,
as long as it's not a trigger for you.
Me, I never have abused it.
I mean, every time I took it,
I went on a crystal meth bender.
But that was only, like, eight or ten times a year.
So no Viagra.
Jim, I'm thinking that we've reached
the point in your recovery where it's time for you
to take some responsibility for your own solutions.
Yeah? So what do you think
would make a good fix?
Well, I still haven't found a higher power
that I can believe in, I mean,
without rolling my eyes anyway.
But I'm just gonna have to let go of the wheel
and let something else take control
or I'm never gonna quiet my mind
and be free of this anxiety, am I?
That was right. I just got that right, didn't I?
Holy shit! I'm starting to get it.
That is great.
You are now emotionally 18.
But do you mind if I skip the part
where I bang the alcoholic epiphany gong?
'Cause I really gotta pick up my kid.
I'm guessing you, uh,
you weren't a cheerleader in high school,
- Am I right, Shirley? - No.
I did once stab a cheerleader
with a pencil once in eighth grade.
'Cause the bitch stole my lighter.
I gotta go.
My sponsor, ladies and gentlemen.
So long.
I know it's been a drought, but don't worry.
A storm is coming to drop 6 3/4 inches
right on your head.
Come on, Jim.
Cum all over these people's faces.
They want you to!
God dammit, Brockmire.
The town is counting on you.
If there's no snow, the whole economy is ruined.
The winter season keeps these people afloat, Jim.
Come on. Come on!
All right, I'm definitely putting
too much pressure on myself now.
- Hey. - Hey.
I'm off work in an hour.
Oh, Maggie.
At this point, I'm like Wile E. Coyote
and your vagina is a tunnel painted on a mountain.
I want very much to be inside,
but physics is against me.
Well, I still want to see you tonight.
I just enjoy spending time with you.
It's comfortable, like
dating an old leather chair.
Well,
you do always have a standing offer
to sit right there on my face.
You don't have to constantly offer
to go down on me.
We can just talk.
Or, more realistically, you can talk and I can listen.
And if you feel like trying again,
we can.
That's very sweet.
And of course I would love to see you tonight.
And I appreciate your patience with me.
You know, it's been a long time since I liked anyone.
And, uh, well,
I want you to be in my life,
even after Matt goes home.
What?
Well, Matt's not going home.
What do you mean?
The cancer, it spread to his organs.
It has?
- Since when? - About two weeks.
He never said anything.
How long does he have?
Not very long.
I'm only telling you now
because you're the only person he talks to.
I think it's just gonna be you there at the end.
Okay, god.
You know, I think this is the first time
in my life I've ever been asked
to give somebody comfort.
I'm curious to finally hear what gets said after.
"Jim, that's enough. You need to leave."
So right there on the... on the Christmas Village?
- Right there. - Do you aim?
No, I don't aim.
Where it lands is just an act of God.
Or, well, it was,
until my dick died.
Yeah.
Well, if it makes you feel any better,
I haven't been able to get it up for
a couple of months.
That actually does.
- Yeah? - Yeah.
The damn thing just lies there.
Hold me... Holy cats and jammers.
My g... I...
Wow. I feel like I should salute it.
Because it's a flag pole, sir.
Please tell me it doesn't get any longer;
it just plumps up like a Ballpark Frank.
I get another couple inches.
What?
I mean, come on.
How does that even work?
Well, it doesn't, really.
That's the cosmic joke of it all.
It is a terribly designed tool for the job.
It's like using a hammer to knit.
I mean, women like to experience it once.
You know, as a fun story to tell their friends,
but they don't generally come back for seconds.
You know...
I've never told anybody this.
I have never,
not once in my entire life,
been fully inside a woman.
Boy, that's heartbreaking.
No, 'cause I'm picturing it now.
I mean, your balls just going
back and forth in the air like that alone,
like abandoned twins on a swing set.
Basically every time I've had sex,
neither one of us has really enjoyed it.
God damn, no wonder I have intimacy issues.
Okay, enough about my pathetic love life.
How about your pathetic love life?
You got a...
plan of attack there?
How are you gonna fix your little limp friend?
Oh, I don't know.
Uh, you know, I'm in uncharted territory here.
I mean, I can't seem to be able to
do anything about it myself,
so I guess I just have to let go
and see what the universe can do? I don't know.
The program wants me to believe
in something bigger than myself.
You don't believe in God?
Oh, sure I do.
No, I don't believe in God.
Come on. God.
God is just a security blanket
for people who are still afraid of the dark.
It's an existential night light
that helps them sleep at night.
The good news is, there's no monster under the bed.
Bad news is: no God either.
But, you know, look. What do I know?
I just tried and failed to jerk off on an Alpine village.
Don't put too much stock in anything I say.
What do you think happens when you die?
I don't know.
Come... I mean, you know, some things are beyond words.
Come on, man. Don't...
Don't do that. Don't...
Don't start lying to me.
Not at the end.
Okay.
I think you decompose.
I think that the energy in our body
is gonna get redistributed back out into nature.
Atoms that were a million different things before
are all gonna become a million different other things again.
I think that a soul is just consciousness.
And what's consciousness?
It's just a shared delusion created by matter.
That's what I think.
Yeah. Shit.
Me too.
You know,
the worst part, to me,
is the...
just the rotting.
I mean,
everything that I am...
just becoming a big
putrefying puddle.
Hey, man.
You always gotta remember how lucky you are.
Right?
'Cause, of all the possible lives,
you got to be a baseball man.
That's gotta be in the top
.00001% of things that anybody gets to do.
You were paid to travel around the world,
you showed up only when the weather was nice,
you got three months off a year,
and most of all...
you got to play this beautiful children's game
your whole entire life.
Man, I'd have rather had your life
than the goddamn Queen of England's.
I was always at my best
on a baseball field.
Oh, man.
They're like sacred places.
Lit up, they're just like temples, and
in darkness, they're like cemeteries.
Ah, look at that.
I guess I do believe in something
bigger than myself:
baseball.
Yeah.
That's a god I could believe in.
A Baseball God.
Yes.
Yeah, a kind of God
that demands that all his churches be parks.
God that forces you to play outside
on a nice day.
Yeah. Who doesn't keep time,
because our actions should determine our fate,
not some stupid clock.
Yeah. A god who keeps us humble
by making us play a game
- that's steeped in failure. - Mm.
That's the kind of God that I'd worship.
Well, we did.
We do.
We did, didn't we?
Huh.
When my mind was racing
and the yips were just gripping me tight,
I remember how you said that the Baseball God
teaches humility through failure.
Now, that's true.
But he's also a God who gives gifts.
A struggling hitter is granted a swing and bunt single.
A dead-arm pitcher is blessed by a line drive double play.
Sometimes the Baseball God deems you worthy of a reprieve.
And I got one.
Well, what I got was a... it was a hand job.
I just kept whispering to myself over and over again,
"I'm due. I'm due."
It almost became like a prayer.
And my prayer was answered.
A little bit too well.
Wow.
That is all over my car.
Oh, when the levee breaks, Mama, you got to move.
And you're still coming.
Yeah, I'm pretty pent up.
Oh, Maggie,
thank you so much.
I found my higher power in a hand job.
It was just so stupid
and amazing and, well,
I never got to tell you that while you were alive, Bat.
Not because we didn't have that kind of a friendship.
I was more intimate and open with you
than any other man I've ever known.
We just...
We ran out of time, didn't we?
We knew each other for 30 years,
but we only enjoyed each other's company
the last five weeks.
Most of our friendship was a complete failure.
But in the end, we were given a gift from the Baseball God.
One that I will always be grateful for.
I'm gonna miss you, Matt Hardesty.
And don't you worry.
I made sure you wouldn't rot.
Ah, shit.
A little of you just went inside my mouth.
Probably your dick.
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