[knock on door]
- Can I help you?
- Jim Brockmire? - Yeah.
- For your major contributions to sports journalism,
you've been selected as an inductee
to the Baseball Hall of Fame.
- Oh, my God, are you serious?
- [clapping "Let's Go!" cheer]
- Who are you two? You from the Hall of Fame?
- No, we're with Limon Favór.
The hall emailed you, but Limon thought you might appreciate
getting this news from an actual human.
So I'm, uh--I'm supposed to hug you now.
- No, that won't be necessary, thank you very much.
I mean, I have a family and everything.
I'm alone at this very moment because
just chased away the love of my life
and my daughter's not returning my goddamn phone calls
for some reason, but other than that,
I'm fine, really, so thank you very much.
- No, no, I--I have to hug you to get the credits.
- Jesus, okay, what the hell, huh?
[rhythmic clapping continues]
[Limon beeps]
Hey, can you stop clapping, please?
Thanks.
No, wait, wait, Limon was right.
I need this.
God, the Hall of Fame, my God!
It's the culmination of my career, man,
my life, really,
all the highs and the lows and the heavens and the scum.
My life's come full circle.
[tearfully] Baseball is just
welcoming me home.
I'm sorry. - Shh, shh, it's okay.
Just--just go ahead and, you know, let it all out.
I earn more credits if you cry.
- [sobbing]
I'm sorry. - Okay.
I'm sorry. I--I'm sorry.
[Limon beeping]
- Good job.
- Oh, oh, God.
Get out.
[gentle acoustic guitar music]
♪
Uh, Limon, call Beth again, please.
- Beth is not available.
Do you want to leave a message?
- Sure.
Uh, hey, sweetie, it's me.
Uh, I'd love to hear from ya 'cause I love you
and I'd also love to confirm that you're coming
to the culmination of my life's work.
I don't want to put pressure,
but that is literally what today is,
so, uh, anywhoodles, uh, well, call me back.
Thank you.
- Ready for your speech, Commissioner?
- Oh, I should be.
Wrote this thing 25 years ago.
Never been lacking in self-confidence or nose hair,
both of which make strangers really uncomfortable.
- Okay, let's talk running order.
Buster Posey will go first,
and then it's you followed by Lance Kucher,
who is being introduced by his dad,
who seems like such a sweet old man.
- Oh, the guy's a peach, yeah.
- And is your daughter still introducing you?
- Absolutely, she is gonna crush it.
[chuckles]
I don't like to brag--
actually, love to do it--
but she's three-time state debate team champion.
- Yep, she sounds great, and is she here?
- Not at the moment, no. Nowhere in sight.
- Okay, uh, maybe we should flip the order
and put you up after Lance.
- Whoa, what?
Kooch Senior? Guy's a horrible monster, please.
- You said he was a peach.
- Yeah, I was being polite.
The man has a real
"Clint Eastwood with tinnitus" vibe about him,
plus you can bet that that speech of his
is gonna get real racist and I mean real fast.
- But he said he was just gonna speak from the heart.
- That's where his hatred lives,
right there in his heart.
Look, Kooch's wife is Scotch-Irish.
He refers to her as mixed race, so, no, no,
I cannot have Kooch Senior's shit stink
still in the air when I hit the stage.
I mean, it's my legacy we're talking about here.
- Commissioner. - Yeah?
- Beth has been unreachable
for this entire process.
Is this gonna be a problem?
- No, absolutely not.
She responded to my long and sincere Limon invite
with a "K," and she's a woman of her word.
- K.
- In this case,
her passive-aggressive single letter.
[exhales]
Oh, thank God.
Never had a doubt.
God, it's good to see ya,
and you have bangs.
Really, we're going with bangs on a day
that's gonna be immortalized for all eternity?
'Cause I thought I made my tonsorial beliefs
on that matter just exceedingly clear throughout the year.
- Yeah, you always referred to them
as the Devil's curtains.
- So you do remember.
So that was intentional.
No time to focus on that, though.
Gotta read your speech because I want to make sure
we don't overlap or anything, you know.
Aha, okay, that's the speech?
- Yes, this is the speech, but I want to be clear:
this is the one that I'm giving.
- I understand. I just, uh, wanna make sure
we're not using the same anecdotes.
You know, I call dibs on the time
that we were snowed in on that merry-go-round.
All right, Hall of Fame speech.
"My father, Jim Brockmire, is a hall of fame asshole."
No, you're starting 'em off with a laugh.
That's great, okay.
Can't wait to see how you buy it back.
Okay, still no buy back.
[mumbles] Skip ahead a little here.
Okay, page three,
and we are just getting meaner and more specific.
And what is the graph? What's this graph?
That's a timeline of the election
that I fixed in Thailand.
Are you kidding me?
I told you that in confidence. What's the matter with you?
You know, this whole speech is filled with such vitriol,
it's like it's only purpose is to hurt me.
- So you don't like it.
- It's like it's the bangs of speeches.
- Are you upset with me or something?
- Should I be upset with you?
- Oh, boy, answering a question with a question
is never a sign that everything
is just super chill, now, is it?
- Well, you know, it really wasn't easy
summarizing your legacy, but I did my research
and everything in that speech, it's--it's factual.
- Beth, we're standing here in Cooperstown
because a con man named Abner Doubleday
spun a lot of bullshit that he invented baseball here.
I mean, this place is literally built on lies.
But you know what? That's okay
because it's become part of a larger American myth.
This is a temple built on ground
that we all decided was sacred,
and this speech, it's a desecration, darling.
I mean, you wouldn't run around the Vatican
shouting that Jesus was just some magician
who did his tricks for free, now, would you?
- Comparing yourself to Jesus?
- You know, at least I'd never
overthrow the tables of the money changers.
I mean, some poor guy
is handing out microloans to his community
has to have his whole day ruined
'cause Jesus just gotta be the big man.
I mean, what's that shit?
- You know, just maybe
it's time this place stops being built on lies.
Maybe it's time that we point out a few things,
you know, like, oh, Tom Yawkey,
malignant racist who refused to integrate the Red Sox, right?
And Ty Cobb, he--he tried to murder
an armless fan during a game once.
Hey, right now, we're in the Ty Cobb Room.
Society, it's--it's crumbling
because we continue to excuse awful behavior
and choose the most palatable,
convenient version of the truth, but, hey,
I'm not gonna be a participant
in another whitewashing of the past.
I'm just keeping it Brockmire.
- Well, you got me there.
The cornerstone of my parenting has always been brutal honesty.
But you know what?
Right now, I got a brown bear knocking on my back door,
so I gotta hit the head, but hold that thought.
I want to continue this conversation.
[exhales]
[faint chatter and music]
[sighs]
Limon, please call Charles.
- Charles is unavailable.
Why don't you leave him a message?
- [sighs] Charles, where are you, man?
Beth is freaking out.
She's on this-- this crazy truth kick.
She's gonna embarrass the hell out of me
with her introduction speech,
so I may need you to step in and just--
- Jim Brockmire?
I have some bad news.
Your friend Charles isn't gonna make it today.
His blimp hit some bad weather.
- Oh, man. - Would you like a hug?
- No, thank you, Limon, I don't need another hug.
- I could do other things
and we could just tell Limon it was a hug.
- Jesus Christ, stay away from me.
Hey, event coordinator, is this--
- I have a name.
- I'm not even gonna pretend that I remember what that is.
Is this the guest list?
I need to take a look at it because I just gotta
find somebody who knows and respects me
enough to say a few loving words of introduction.
Let's see, definitely not Bob Costas,
not Jessica Mendoza.
Bob Uecker, he hates my guts.
I hate that Keith Olbermann idiot.
Dan Patrick once took a shit in my bed.
So did Eisen.
So did Le Batard.
My goodness, this list
is like a regular who's who of pillow poo.
- Didn't you have a ticket put aside for a Julia James?
- Yeah, but, unfortunately, she's out dealing
with a very sensitive labor issue for the league,
that and she made it very clear
that she had no desire to see this or me, really.
- Maybe just don't have anyone introduce you.
- Boy, has it actually come to this?
I've just--I've fractured every relationship in my life
to the point where no one will stand up for me.
- Congratulations, Jim!
- And now, now I'm living a nightmare.
That's what's happening to me.
Joe Buck.
- Hey, is it true that some of these players
are talking about a midseason strike?
- Shh, as commissioner, I'm not really at liberty
to discuss that, Joe, but, yes, yes, these unions
are just gonna kill this game dead, Joe Buck.
They're gonna, pow, Moe Greene it right in the eye.
But I got bigger problems right now, Joe.
Beth was supposed to give my introduction speech today,
but we're in the middle
of a little father-daughter spat right now,
so I was wondering if maybe
you would willing to be on deck for me?
- Jim, I'd be honored. - Great.
- And you were right to come to me.
I mean, after all, we are best friends.
- We're definitely not best friends, Joe.
- No, no, no, you're not my best friend,
but I am definitely your best friend.
Let that dawning awareness overtake you.
Look, I'm all you got, man.
Someday, I'm gonna be doing your goddamn eulogy.
- Who the hell was that? - Who the hell was what?
- Look, to be clear... [sighs]
I may not even need you to give the speech, okay?
I just gotta talk Beth down off of this ledge.
- Understood.
I think I'm giving the speech.
- No, no, no, Beth's a hothead like me.
Sometimes she leads with her anger,
but I'm her father, man.
That is an unconditional love,
and that love is gonna win the day.
- Feels like I'm giving the speech.
- Eh.
All right, listen, honey,
I--I don't know what's going on here.
Maybe this is part of your whole
"pulling away from me" thing,
but, please, there's gotta be
a better way to do it than this.
- If you want to convince me not to give the speech,
all you have to do is prove me wrong.
- What, like--like a debate?
- Yep, classic Lincoln-Douglas format.
Start with affirmative construction
and end by trading rebuttals until you crumble in defeat
and I go up on that stage and I rip your asshole a new asshole
so when you shit yourself, you see it coming twice.
- Okey-doke, um...
I'll take the affirmative of the resolution
that a positive speech can be given about me
without lying.
- Okay.
You have six minutes. [clock ticking]
- Jesus, well, I--I won't need all that.
[clears throat] Okay.
You claim your speech is factual.
I won't dispute that.
But you left out certain facts about me
that paint a very distorted picture
of, like, a monster from beginning to end
when, in fact, mine is a tale of human redemption,
of a man who got sober and changed for the better.
Now, in my drinking days,
did I once marry a dog as a joke? Yeah.
Am I still paying him alimony? Absolutely.
God, I wish that Scraps would just remarry.
I just--I just want him to be happy, but anywhoodles.
You left all that out of this speech.
I mean, to strip me of my triumphs
is to lie by omission, okay?
And with that, the affirmative rests for cross-examination.
- What color were my mother's eyes?
- What? - Answer the question.
- Brown. - Are you answering
from memory or inference?
- Beth, well, what does this--
- You say that you're a changed man.
Okay, if that were true,
why have you spent all of these years lying to me
about your knowledge of
and relationship with my birth mother?
I was awake when you admitted everything to Jules.
You never loved my mother!
You don't even remember her!
- Oh, Beth, um...
- I need a five-minute recess.
- Wha--
[sighs]
Oh, Joe Buck, I messed up, and I mean real bad.
Beth found out my most shameful secret.
I don't know that she's ever gonna speak to me again.
- Are you still fucking that dog?
- That was a green card marriage,
and you know that it was, Joe Buck.
Our love was platonic and pure,
and how you doing there, Mr. and Mrs. Posey?
God, your son was just one heck of a catcher.
Congratulations to you.
- Look, Jim, I've got five kids of my own.
Here's what I can tell you.
This speech is coming along great.
I've already got eight minutes of Joe Buck gold in here.
- How's that even possible?
- I'm mainly copying and pasting
from my upcoming memoir.
It's called "Joe Buck Yourself."
I mean, after all, what are you without the context of me?
- You know, as one narcissistic egomaniac to another,
you are a world-class son of a bitch, you know that?
- That may be, but you gotta listen to me.
Today's the most important day of your baseball life.
If she has one ounce of your penchant for revenge,
she'll find a way to ruin this ceremony,
so tell another lie.
Do whatever you have to do.
Your legacy is at stake.
- Just promise me that if you do have to introduce me,
you'll mention me once or twice, okay?
Thanks. - You got it.
Fucked...a...dog.
- You're late.
I'm taking that time
off your cross-examination.
So your supposition is that
you've been a bad person and then a good person,
but I contend you've always been the same shitty person.
You lied to your sister about your mother,
and then you lied to me about mine,
and those lies were 15 years apart
on both sides of your sobriety.
What is your deal?
Do you get off on lying about mothers?
When you go to Mr. Magoriam's Masterbatorium,
and, yeah, I do know about that,
do you pay extra for a virtual scenario
where you get to tell Bambi that his mom is still alive?
You sick freak.
You are the same terrible person that you've always been.
[glass clinks]
- How you doing there, Mr. and Mrs. Posey?
Congratulations again.
Look, I don't want to debate anymore, okay?
- Why, because you'll lose?
- No. Well, yes, I would definitely lose.
God, that Bambi comp, that was brutal,
and I could tell that you just--you found it in the air.
- I'm just speaking from the heart.
- I don't want to debate anymore
'cause I know what you're doing, darling.
Why? 'Cause I did the same thing my whole life.
I eulogized my father that way,
and I gotta tell you something.
Never made me feel any better.
The problem with scorched earth is,
you can't go back and figure out what the hell went wrong.
You end up carrying that pain your whole entire life,
and you deserve much better than that, all right?
You deserve the truth, so please just ask me anything.
- Commissioner, we need you on deck.
Kooch's dad brought a separatist flag.
- Not now, Janet.
Yep, I knew your name the whole time.
- I'm gonna shit on his pillow.
- Well, you don't want to be late.
What about your legacy?
- Right now, my only concern is how you remember me, okay?
That's my legacy.
- Why did you lie?
- You know, at first I rationalized it
by telling myself that I was protecting you,
but then I think I kept lying over the years to protect me.
You know, I keep running that period of time
over and over again in my mind.
It's not like somebody erased the tape.
It's like nobody was even
running the camera to begin with.
- Do you know anything real about her?
- Just what the private investigators could tell me.
She was born Eden Floribeth Reyes in Carmona in 1987.
She received a degree in applied statistics
from Ateneo De Manila University in 2009,
and she died when Super Typhoon Haiyan
made landfall on Leyte Island in 2013.
Somewhere in between graduating college and her death,
she met me, and I can't believe that that was a coincidence.
- What is that supposed to mean?
- Beth, back then, my only companions were
fugitives and degenerates and gamblers and addicts,
and your mother was definitely not of that world.
Who knows what I paid or promised or lied about
to lure her into my strange darkness.
- That's conjecture.
You have no idea what actually happened, Dad!
[sighs]
- All right, okay.
Let's stick to the facts then.
Before I met your mother,
she was an academic with a promising future.
Afterwards, she got pregnant, disowned by her family,
and she died alone.
I was definitely the worst thing
that ever happened to Eden,
and I don't even have the decency to remember her.
And the shame of that is like a weight.
It's like a stone down there in my stomach.
- That's not a story about my mom.
That's a story about you.
- What are y-- - You're saying that
in her entire life,
the only day that mattered was the day that she met you.
Dad, you're doing to her what you've done to me.
You are making our story your story.
[scoffs]
- Jesus Christ, you're absolutely right.
Even when I give my heart to someone,
I make it a selfish act.
I just made you my new addiction
and afflicted my pain on you just like my parents did to me.
[sighs]
- [sighs]
They probably started by now.
- Probably.
- I can't believe you were gonna tell
the merry-go-round story.
- Why not? It's a great story.
I mean, that storm just came out of nowhere, didn't it?
- It was terrifying,
got dark and cold so fast.
And even though it was just the two of us,
when you said we were gonna be okay,
I believed you,
especially after you killed that raccoon for sustenance.
Then, of course, it just ended up being
the owners' pet raccoon.
- Yeah, with hindsight, that was way too easy.
I think she thought we were just playing with her.
- That's your parenting in a nutshell.
It's way over the top, enthusiastically wrongheaded,
but...
You're always trying your best.
- [chuckles]
I do know a few other things about your mother.
She made friends easily,
she was kind, and she was very brave.
I know that 'cause you're those things,
and, let's face it, you don't get any of that from me,
that's for sure.
- [sniffles]
Well, we should hurry.
I got a speech to give.
- Are you sure?
- Unless you want Joe Buck to do it.
- Oh, Joe Buck can eat a big bag o' dicks.
- Okay, one more question.
Do you like my bangs?
- The important thing, sweetie,
is that you like them. - I hate them.
- Thank goodness, 'cause they're just awful.
It's not your fault.
Bangs are just a prank
a woman plays on herself every three years.
- I love you, Dad.
- I love you too.
- Okay.
- Beth, I really am sorry
that I can't tell you any more about your mother.
- It's okay.
I know everything I need to know.
[gentle music]
[dog barking]
[car horn honking]
[basket clatters]
- [snorts] Cubs three to two.
[cheering on TV]
- Oh, shit, baseball.
Oh, what chan-- um...
- I have the TV linked to my laptop
so I can stream games illegally.
- You like baseball?
- One of my statistics professors introduced me to it.
- Huh. - Baseball is like this
intersection of life and math where you can predict anything
except the moments that change everything.
- This is definitely the best conversation I've ever had
after waking up on a bar.
My name is Jim-- - Jim Brockmire.
- Yeah, yeah, hey.
- Eden. We've met many times.
- Oh, I'm sorry.
I'm kind of on the bender to end all benders here.
Let me ask you, you ever actually been to a game?
- No. - Oh, you have to
because in person, it's so much more
than just an intellectual exercise.
I mean, it's a meditative experience.
Baseball is the only game that actually
gets more enjoyable with your eyes closed,
just the... [sniffs]
the inhale and exhale of the crowd,
the smells on the languid summer air,
and the sounds of the bat and the ball and the glove.
It's beautiful.
- Well, this is the best conversation I've ever had
with someone who's blackout drunk.
- I won "Celebrity Jeopardy!" blackout drunk.
[chuckles]
I kicked Jerry Orbach's ass.
Oh, yeah, I should have realized
Jerry Orbach wouldn't translate.
Um, imagine if a loaf of rye bread came alive
and started arresting everybody.
- Pakshet.
My shift's over, sorry.
- All right.
Bye, baseball.
- Unless you'd like to join me.
- Eden, my goodness, so--so forward.
- Not really.
I've actually turned you down three times before this.
- Certainly hope I was charming in defeat.
- You're always charming when you're not being an asshole.
- Walking that tightrope, that is the journey of my life.
Charming to asshole. [chuckles]
It's an old double play combination too.
[chuckles] Charming to idiot to asshole.
So you live close by?