-Jerry - This... -Jessie - What?
-Ali's real first name is Cassius. -Is George.
-No, that's Foreman. -Oh.
-Go on and get up there. I'm paying this guy. -I don't want him to...
Oh, for. goodness sakes.
Breakfast is served.
More grass. I feel like a cow.
That stuff is state-of-the-art.
That nutritionist does all of NASA.
-Next, you'll be launching me into space. -Jeanie, make sure
she drinks that whole thing, will you?
Put a wine spritzer in if you have to.
-Make it gin, and it's a deal.
Ah! Don't touch me!
I've asked you to do nothing...
-Frank How's she doin'? -Are you kiddin'?
She's about to get felt up by a guy half her age.
She's thrilled.
What? What's wrong with you?
I just told him the good news.
First-round playoff tickets went on sale. Sold out in a day.
That's a half a million dollars.
-That's great. -If we were playing in the first round.
Seattle lost. We clinched a bye.
That's two fewer home games.
And that's a half a million dollars in refunds.
Plus what we would have made in concessions.
-So we lose money by winning. -Welcome to the NBA.
Is there any chance we're still gonna break even?
If we make the finals
with an extended series, we'll get close.
Anything less than that...
She'll be working for the Great Western Bank.
Meanwhile, I know it's lousy timing,
but I need some more help.
-Marketing, PR, another full-time hire. -Yeah, sure.
Sure. Why not two, huh?
It's just a little bit more money that
we don't got in the first place.
-Huh? Go crazy. -I'm thinking Jeanie.
-Who?
-I'ma get that. You two, uh, têtê-à-têtê.
You mean my Jeanie?
-I know she's got lots going on. -She's taking care of my mother.
Right. Which is a top priority, of course.
Claire, it's the only priority.
Look, if she's spreading herself too thin at the office,
-she doesn't have to go there. -It's the opposite.
She's invaluable.
Even with everything going on.
I don't know how she does it, to be honest.
But this thing that we've built? It's her as much as anybody.
Probably more. And she has...
-earned this opportunity. -Don't mind me. I'm just...
-Sneaking up on me? -No, sir.
I'm glad she's been useful,
but we need her here, so get somebody else.
-Ay, marone. Fuck. Jerry?
What, Francis? More good news?
McKinney.
What happened with the test?
The doctor didn't clear him to coach?
Worse. He did.
And now Jack's saying he's ready to come back
and coach the playoffs, so long as you dump Westhead.
("My Favorite Mutiny" by The Coup playing
Scout We've got McKinney's players
running McKinney's strategy
in McKinney's style.
All it's missing is McKinney.
Chick A few weeks ago,
Jack McKinney didn't have a skull.
Jerry, I wouldn't trust him to park my car.
Stick with the horse what brung you. That's Westhead.
-McKinney. He's the brains behind it all. -Brains mean shit
if he just spilled the best part on the pavement.
Scout He's never even coached a playoff game.
Scout We don't even know if Jack can process solid food.
We know that Paul's still eating Gerber's.
Westhead. McKinney. Westhead. McKinney. Westhead. McKinney...
Bill Alright already. He's heard enough. Dr. Buss?
What do you think?
Playoffs are starting in a week.
Who's it gonna be?
I think we ought to sleep on it.
No! N-no! No,
you do not fuckin' dump that turd on my fuckin' doorstep.
I'm not asking you to come back, Jerry.
-I'm just asking for your opinion, mano a mano. -Oh, yeah, right.
And then what, huh?
It's on fuckin' me. It's on my fuckin' conscience
when whomever I choose
craps the fuckin' bed. I know. Fuck that!
Fuck that and fuck you!
-Jerry, look at me... -No, I'm not-- Fuck, no.
Look at me.
I'm gonna tell you something I don't tell many people.
I am in over my head.
I bought this thing, and I own this thing,
and I love this thing. But you are this thing.
So, you...
You want-- You wanna know what I would do?
Fuck no. Beg somebody else.
Believe me, I've asked everybody.
Hell, I'm about to call a damn priest.
No! Don't fuckin'-- don't do that.
No, fuckin' chances are
he's rooting for the fuckin' Celtics.
So help me out here.
Westhead or McKinney?
No one has to know it came from you.
I just can't fuck this up.
Let me sleep on it.
Shit...
Chris Nice playoff suit,
but I think, ha, they wear this one
-with pants in Italy. -Yeah, I just hope I get to wear the fuckin' thing.
You're going to wear it in the playoffs.
As long as I'm not watching on TV.
Jack's pushing hard.
The doctors cleared him. Now, it's back in Buss' court.
Then, Buss'll judge it fair and square.
He likes Jack. He hired the guy.
Yeah, but that was before you and Paul delivered 50 wins.
What if this whole thing has just been a giant fuckin' tease?
Well then, at least you know that the suit fits.
Worst comes to worst,
you can wear it next year in Cleveland or wherever.
And I'll fly out once in a while
and admire it without the pants on.
What's our mantra?
Function forward. Control what we can.
Yes.
Christ, Chris, if they fucking dump us after everything that we--
Then they deserve what they get!
The last thing anyone should do right now
is mess with chemistry.
-Pat Alright, guys.
Let's get it on its feet. We got a week till playoffs.
Come on. No lazing around. Let's go.
Come on, Wood. Let's get some shots up.
Wood?
Alright, come on, man. I know you fucking with me. Come on.
-Come here. -Wood.
-Hey, Wood? Wood! Wood!
The fuck y'all doing? Get the fuck off me.
Michael Your eyes was open like you was
-a dead man or somethin'! -So?
It's called meditating, motherfucker!
Keep your eyes off me, motherfucker.
Pretty angry for a guy who's meditating.
Fuck.
Fuck...
Brad Hey, Wood.
What--
The fuck you looking at?
Nothin', man.
Are you looking for these?
You were out there already, so I borrowed 'em.
-You what? -It's just your tape and your cutters.
-Took them out of your bag-- -Fuck you borrowing my shit without asking my shit!
-Jesus Christ! I'm sorry, man! -Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!
-Relax, man! -Get the fuck off me, rook!
You want some of this shit, too?
Huh?
-What you want?! Bring it! -Fuck, relax!
-Hold it! -No! You ain't see what happen, Cap!
-This punk-ass rootin' around in my shit! -Cheryl spoke to Iman.
You lied to me.
It's you. You're on that shit again!
I fucked up, Cap.
I did. A few times, I said it. I fucked up a few times--
I'm telling you, when the monkey on your back--
Stop!
Do you want this, Spence?
This!
Because I do.
More than anything in a long time.
Maybe my whole career.
I do. I swear to you, I do.
I want the ring. I want to be able to give this to my baby girl.
Then cut it out.
Right now!
-Cold turkey. -I can. I will.
I got this.
One shot.
I ain't gonna let you down!
Kareem in the post, shakes one, two defenders.
And look at Spencer Haywood! Unbelievable.
Look at him clear space for the big fella.
Folks, I'll tell you, where would the Lakers be
without the hustle and physicality
of one Spencer Haywood?
A lot of happy Lakers here, and they should be.
Just clinched the top seed in the West,
with two more games to go until the playoffs.
Doc, let me get you a refill.
And, gals, if you don't mind waiting outside here,
we'll be right out. Uh,
there's magazines and candies in the drawer there,
-so, you know... -Look at that!
knock yourself out.
Doc, I'm so glad you could come out.
Nice little victory for you, too.
-You see that? -Not bad at all.
Listen, I know my mom must be putting you through the ringer,
but it's not gonna be much longer.
That new stuff we got her guzzling down?
State-of-the-art. Did you know
that not a single NASA astronaut
has died of natural causes?
-I did not. -That's a fact.
What are you drinking? Chivas?
-I-I saw her lab results.
Oh. Okay. Well,
gonna get right into it.
What's the good news? How's it looking?
It's worse.
Well, she just started that new protocol.
She's in the end game, Jerry.
And all the signs are pointing in the same direction.
Don't misinterpret. I'm not saying
your experimental treatments are to blame. They're not.
It's just...
a case like hers,
certain outcomes are...
What?
Inevitable.
I know that can be hard to hear.
I don't like saying it, but I have seen too many people
waste too much precious time tilting at windmills.
And when the curtain closes, all they're left with is regret.
My advice, friend to friend,
enjoy your mother while you have her.
Say the things you wish you had.
That is your fucking attitude?
-Jerry-- -Don't you "Jerry" me.
No, no, don't you "Jerry" me.
It's Dr. Buss,
as in the guy who just built
your hospital a fucking wing!
-For which the board is very grateful. -You guys are unbelievable.
I let you in my club, you feel up my girls,
and now, you're gonna hand me this plate of shit!
-Look, I can't change the science, Dr. Buss. -Science?
I am a fucking scientist.
Roger Bannister.
Now, there's a scientist!
The Wright Brothers! Those are scientists!
Not you, pal! You're Doctor Fucking No!
If it was up to you, planes wouldn't fly!
They'd fucking crash and burn!
And nobody'd be running a four-minute mile
'cause you'd be telling them it's impossible!
You're Dr. Fucking No!
And you're standing in a house that yes built!
So, let me tell you something!
-You can take that no-can-do...
and get the fuck out!
Fuck. What the fuck are you lookin' at?!
Johnson Yeah. Can you go get Cookie? It's Earvin.
Classmate She's not here. I guess she's at class or something.
Which you mean ain't there? Cookie ain't got no class today.
Just tell her Rhonda lost the baby,
and I got proof anyway it wasn't mine.
I'll be sure to let her know you called.
-You do that.
It's always been you and me.
Hasn't it?
Against all comers.
Tuesday's the home opener.
I'm gonna send Jeanie with the car.
-I wouldn't miss it.
-Love you, Ma. -Love you.
Lame. Lame! Tell her!
-Lon What? -That she's being a fucking idiot.
That's more something you would say, Linda.
I'm being serious. This is your job
and it's in the classifieds.
I already told you, this isn't my job.
-That's full-time. -Linda So are you.
Why? Just because you don't get paid for it?
You need to talk to him.
You need to tell him you deserve this, or you watch.
We'll have 60 people lining up here Monday morning,
waiting to take what should be yours,
and every one of them dumber than Lon.
It's not necessary to say things like that.
No. He needs me at home.
I'm helping Grandma.
If he thought I should have taken the job,
-he would have said so. -Bullshit. Tell her.
It kind of is.
Jean-bean! There you are!
Come on. We're going on a mission.
We're gonna kidnap Grandma. Let's go.
-Come on! Let's go! Giddy-up!
Right now! Grab your stuff.
I'll be back.
I just wanna see what it's about.
This is insane.
Oh, hogwash. This place is easier to break into
than a French girl's panties.
We used to come here every summer.
-Practically own the place.
Mary Pickford would hit the Riviera, and we'd pop in
-for a picnic by the pool. -We're all going to end up in jail.
Only if we let him do the picking.
Come on, let an expert go to work.
Goodness sakes, you've been rich too long.
-You forgot how to be useful. -I learned how to pay for things.
Well, once you blow your wad on basketball, what then?
Get over here, missy. You need to learn this.
Girl needs something to fall back on
-when boys can't hold their own.
-Oh! -Wow!
-You still got it. -Home again, home again,
-jiggety-jig.
-I don't feel good about this. -Oh. Come on, baby.
Hush up, hush up.
He loved this pool so much
that he would drop his drawers
before we even got the gate open!
And then, he would take off
across the lawn,
trying to beat the Rottweilers who were chasing
his little ding-a-ling the whole way, like a...
-...rabbit at the track!
You see that? One false move,
and then you wouldn't be here!
It was really scary.
-Man, you two had a lot of fun. -Mm, yeah.
Being poor is a blast until it's time to eat.
Oh, we ate just fine.
When he didn't tip the grift.
He had this, this...
uh, this left eyebrow of his
that just twitched like crazy whenever he was bluffing.
He had no, no poker face whatsoever.
You should know that.
Giving away all my secrets.
Well, I never played, so...
What?
What kind of father are you?
A good one that doesn't teach his children how to gamble!
Wait, you have never taught her
to play a single hand of cards?
Only Monopoly.
-You know what? You just didn't wanna lose your shirt. -Yeah.
Buss women,
we have cards in the blood.
-I should point out
that it was you that stopped playing with me.
Breaks my heart to see you cry.
-Right.
Well, Dad, I mean, don't you have a deck with you?
Huh?
Alright, well... are you chicken?
-Them's fighting words, kiddo!
-I got 'em right here! Oh no, no, no.
I love playing cards with people
that don't know how to play. Trust me.
No, I think you're afraid.
-Come on, deal 'em out. -What do you want?
-Play Texas Hold 'Em. -Okay, Texas Hold 'Em. You got it.
Wait a minute. Wait a minute. I want to cut those.
He's proud of you.
I know.
No, you don't know
because he's lousy at showing it.
He learned that from his mother.
But, he is.
There's this job.
And I know I can do it.
I know I'd be great at it.
I want it.
What are you waiting for?
Well, he just needs my help right now with, um...
Me.
Wow.
I don't think you'll have to wait too long.
Don't talk like that, okay?
Don't let him make excuses.
I have given my whole life to men.
Fathers, husbands, sons.
Has its upsides.
It's hard to be out there all on your own.
I fell on my ass a few times.
I gave up.
But, you're better than me.
You're a good girl, Jeanie.
Don't be too good.
Okay then. I just want to thank you for taking the time, Jack.
All I have to give these days.
Until you give my whistle back to me.
It's not my call.
-Just lending a hand. -But, uh...
You, you will be having a word with Buss?
I'm telling you I'm ready, Jerry.
Ready for the playoffs.
Oh, I'll be putting a four-letter one, or two.
You can count on that shit.
I know I'm supposed to be fucking retired,
but he's got me out here untangling his fucking knots.
Hm...
You remember the way out, don't you?
Mc Oh, you bet.
Uh, I didn't get hit on the head that hard.
Thanks, Jerry, I'll see you soon.
He'll be putting in a word.
Goddamn it, Jack. You pushed.
You pushed too hard.
Uh, excuse me, sir?
Oh...
You alright there, Coach?
Uh, where am I? Uh...
I got turned around. I-- Uh, where's the exit?
It's right there, man.
R-right.
Hm.
Sure you don't want some hair of the dog?
-That might go down well.
Good morning.
-Where's all my money at?
Some night.
Yeah, just like old times.
Yep.
You still...
pass out first.
Well,
Mr. Seagram's had his way with me.
Oh. You two...
go back without me.
I'll just... die here
-and haunt the place.
How about you live here instead?
You know, the offer stands. I can get this place on the cheap.
You have a habit of following your heart.
-And you hate that about me.
Just jealous maybe.
Come here.
Hm.
Oh...
I remember...
the smile...
you had on your face...
first time we broke into this place.
And you laid back
on the nice green grass...
felt the California sun...
I haven't seen that smile.
Not for a very long time.
Well, you stick around to see us win this thing,
you can see it then.
You promise?
Jean-bean.
-Good morning. -You ready?
Because, you know, if my boss
finds out that I was arrested,
I think I might get fired.
Alright.
Come on, Mom. Let's go.
Ma. Is she sleeping?
Ma, we gotta go.
Ma?
Hey. Hey, Ma?
Oh no. Shit.
Sh-- Ma?
-Dad? -Ma, can you hear me?
-Get my-- Get the keys out of my jacket. Start the car! -Okay!
Ma, can you hear me?!
Ma?
Oh fuck, come on!
Got your fucking pros, got cons, fucking coaches.
You get shit-store Shakespeare on the one hand,
and a limping fucking Napoleon on the other.
Fuck am I supposed to do with that?
Fuck.
He can't really be thinking about
giving the team back to McKinney. Fucking ridiculous.
Maurice found him sitting on his ass
like some fucking kid who lost his mommy.
Yeah.
I noticed it with his memory back in Philly.
I just figured he was better now.
Well, he's not. Not by a long shot.
And if we don't speak up,
he'll be having a conniption in the finals.
On the sidelines with our team.
Well, I can't.
Why not?
Because my best friend in the world
may never talk to me again. But at least...
right now, I can still look into the mirror
and know that all we ever did was do our job.
That's what this is.
Our job. This squad.
The guys who work their hearts out.
This is their life, too.
I'll do it.
I tell West what happened. What he does with it,
that's up to him.
Hands clean. Hm?
-Pat... Pat.
Fuck.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
-Well, I can't. -Thank God.
-We did everything right. That ought to be enough. -We did.
-It should be. -I mean, if they're
too fucking blind to see it, fuck 'em.
Fuck West, fuck Buss.
Fuck 'em all.
Fuck me.
Dr. It's looking like a hemorrhagic stroke.
We've got her on medication to slow the bleeding
and to relieve pressure on her brain, but,
right now, the machines are breathing for her.
What can we do?
Keep her comfortable.
As long as you decide.
I wouldn't miss--
Come on. Let's sit down.
Last game of the regular season for these Lakers,
and, right now, everything is gravy.
A win tonight locks in the top seed in the West
as they head into their playoff run.
-Jerry. -Bill.
You hear about the boss' mother?
Jerry Some fuckin' timing.
Well, thanks for helping with the big decision.
You look good in the front office.
Might consider that.
Feels more like I'm sitting in a hangman's chair.
Winner gets a shot at the title.
Loser gets the pain in the neck.
What the fuck are we doing this for, Bill, really?
You know, I graduated high school on a Monday,
married my sweetheart on Tuesday,
and I shipped out to the Navy on Wednesday night.
Spent the next two years on a boat in the Pacific.
And once a week,
the Armed Forces Network would put a... a game on.
One game. You know, baseball, basketball, jai alai.
It didn't matter. We'd all crowd into the barracks.
Just a bunch of kids,
playing hide-and-seek with death.
I used to wonder, you know, in the face of all that...
how any of us can think about a fucking game.
It's a good question.
But then, it hit me.
How can you not?
-Yeah?
How is she?
Oh, I'm, I'm sorry, Jerry.
Yeah. It's alright. Come on in.
Appreciate you coming by.
I brought you these.
-You know, it's...
It's not a good time, I can always come back and...
Well, that depends.
Are they gonna postpone the playoffs?
Probably not, no.
So, there's no time like the present.
Who is my coach, Jerry?
Well, I thought about it.
I did. I spoke to everyone involved,
and I feel strongly that...
I'm damn lucky I'm not you.
-No. There is no right answer here.
There's no wrong one either, and you could be a hero or heel.
I'll be fucking damned if I or anyone else can fault you on that.
Whichever way you go.
And you can quote me on that.
When did I become the executioner?
Don't I have employees for that?
Well, if it's any consolation, you'll, uh,
you'll be giving one of these two the gift of life.
Unless, of course, they crap out and lose it
to the fucking Celtics, in which case,
-I'll kill him myself. -Come on, Jerry.
-You're not even gonna give me a hint? -Oh...
I know you're thinking something!
What got you this far?
Yeah, you're richer than I am.
You must have a gut.
An instinct. Huh?
-I followed my heart. -There you go.
Which way is it beating this time?
-Jack? -What?
-Where do we live? -Huh?
I said, where do we live? Our address.
Or do you forget?
We lived here about half a year. You need a hint?
I found this in your pocket.
It's a phone book page.
-Fucking phone book page. -I-I went for a jog--
-Because you can't remember where we live. -I got turned around
-because this goddamn town doesn't make any sense. -You can't remember...
Are you really going through my goddamn pockets, now, Cranny?
You're not even gonna tell me. You're pushing it too hard!
-I'm not stepping back, Cranny. Not now. -Jack...
I'm too young to spend the rest of my life
wiping dribble off your chin!
I think you like me being sick.
-I think you liked me needing you for once, an invalid. -For once?
Let me do my work!
Get out, just let me do my--
Who packed the boxes?
Every time you get a job, who has to tell the boys
and break their hearts
while Daddy gets to stay the hero? Huh?
-Cranny... -I sat up
every night in that hospital,
so I could pound your chest
every time your heart stopped beating. I did that.
Yeah, I did that!
And I didn't do it for the fucking LA Lakers!
For once! Fucking idiot.
-Cranny...
Can I help you?
Special delivery for Jack McKinney.
Cranny!
Can you come sign for this, please?
-Sorry. Hang on just a sec.
-Jack... -She'll be right here.
Cranny!
Can you sign for this guy?
Dr. Buss.
This guy,
acting like he don't recognize me.
Always messing around. What a kidder.
-Here, I'll get us some glasses.
Oh no, no. That's for you two.
You drink in good health. I got to run.
I just came by to drop that off. But, give my girl a call,
come by in the morning, and we'll sit down, we'll...
work out this whole thing. You know?
You're looking good, Jack! Good to see you.
No bike ridin'!
Fuck.
It's the right call.
Shut the blinds in there.
Fuck. Bill's in there.
They're going with McKinney. I fucking knew it.
-Paul - Okay. -- Fuck.
-What? What? What?
-- Hey. -- Man...
Can you get us to the Promised Land?
Of course, yeah.
If there's no, uh, bad blood with Jack,
-we can stay on and help him out. -No.
Not with Jack.
We got it.
-We got it.
Yes.
Absolutely.
Don't fuck it up.
Nixon blazing down the court
looking for an open man, and there it is,
the lob to Cooper. Shazam!
Just beautiful.
Lakers besting the Suns in this best of seven
and it's been all Lakers so far, kids.
Lakers on the run. Magic, beautiful pass to Nixon! Oh my!
Keith Oh, showtime, folks!
To Cooper. Slam dunk! Just gorgeous.
Remarkable passing by the Lakers.
Michael Ha, ha!
And the Lakers ran away with this conference semi,
a rematch with Seattle
the only thing standing in their way
for a trip to the NBA finals.
Love you.
Bye-bye. Love you!
God, she is pretty.
... Spencer.
Magic passes to Kareem.
He's pivoting, looking for an opening.
Gets some help from Haywood with a pick.
And he lays it in. Snug as a bug in a rug.
And the Los Angeles Lakers now moments away
from avenging their playoff loss last year
against the SuperSonics.
Boy, the fans here can taste victory,
and it sure tastes sweet.
Seven! Six!
Five! Four!
Three! Two! One!
-And it's all over, folks!
Your Los Angeles Lakers are the new Western Conference Champs,
behind 38 points by the captain, Kareem.
Now, all they have to do is sit back
and wait for a date with the doctor.
All we care about is that the boys in Forum Blue
will be there, and look at 'em celebrating.
Boy, they sure have earned it.
You made me believe, baby. You made me believe.
And look at Magic out there, smile shining
like the North Star, and Dr. Buss, our other rookie,
must be somewhere beaming just as bright.
Brent There it is. Philly puts this one over the top.
And folks dreaming of a Boston-LA finals
will have to wait another year.
-The 76ers have... -Kareem Abdul- Here we go, fellas.
Butch Philly it is.
Jim Man, I wanted Boston.
Norman Then you a dumbass.
...right here on CBS.
The Celtics have the best record
of any team in the league...
Same time next year, asshole.
You know it.
And young Larry Bird may be
disappointed by the outcome,
but after watching his performance in this series,
he gets my vote for Rookie of the Year.
Bird led scoring through the playoffs...
We win it all, you'll get your due.
...far beyond his age.
Hey, Cap?
We got a situation.
Spence?
-What happened to you? What's the matter?
I fucked up...
Just... I fucked up, Cap...
I'm sorry...
I fucked up...
Okay. It's okay...
I fucked up...
I'm sorry... -Aw, fuck.
Abdul- Goddammit, man.
Man, I can't watch this shit.
There's an institute in Arizona.
They specialize in something called aversion therapy.
Spencer would admit himself after the season.
He's promised me he'll keep clean through the finals.
If you let him stay.
Look, he's our one true four.
Alright, if we lose him,
that's gonna put a whole lot on Cap down low.
We gonna need him in the paint.
Them Twin Towers they got, Dawkins, Jones.
-Leave them to Chones. -Jamaal The brother has a problem.
Can't just throw him to the wolves.
Maybe somebody can just keep an eye on him.
This is the pros, not daycare.
Look, Wood's only problem
is that he's a selfish motherfucker.
All that African brother Hotep bullshit?
Look, bottom line, dude's not strong. He's weak.
And if we let this motherfucker stay on the team,
then the rest of us is weak, too.
And you, Buck?
I wanna win a ring.
That's what matters to me.
And I feel bad for dude
if he ain't ready for what's coming.
But, great man told me winning in this league takes being hard.
Listen.
He's your teammate.
So, this is a team call.
Let's put it to a vote.
All for cutting Spencer.
Mm-hmm.
All opposed.
White folk still white folking?
I just left.
Hm...
You ever been to Mississippi?
-Never. -No?
I came up there.
Family of field hands.
They call it sharecropping,
but if there's a difference between it and slavery,
I ain't see it.
I was born in a barn,
on the same dirt...
as the pigs and chickens.
The only thing that separated us from them was...
these right here.
Extra bone in each finger.
My Auntie Harriet
seen 'em and went, "Wow." Touching them, said, uh,
"That boy is blessed. That boy gonna do some...
That boy gonna do some great things."
But, along come...
old man Quinn. Field boss.
High yellow nigga.
Quick sight, you'd think he a-a cracker.
But, he worse than one of 'em.
Used to whistle with his pinkies in his mouth.
And just like that, our backs was bent.
Shit, I think the first real sound
I ever heard was a whistle.
So, he seen my mama and my auntie
fussing over this little newborn child
with these fancy little hands, and took to him.
He knew better.
"Hoo, that boy got some long fingers!
"Oo-hoo-hoo-wee!
"He gonna make a special...
cotton picker."
Abdul-Hm.
My mama used to tell us that story.
Without-- Without skipping a breath, say,
"God love us."
Now, it took me...
some years
to muster up the gumption to ask...
"Why...
"are we on the bottom then?
"Everywhere you see a brown face,
"you see tears on it.
If He love us so damn much, then why?"
And you know what she said?
"God loves them more."
Yeah, I don't know if it's-- if there's a God,
I don't know. But I do know there's a them.
Same ones in that room right now, deciding my fate!
So, I guess I'll just wait for the whistle.
This time, they left it up to us.
The team already voted on it.
Damn!
Damn! Damn it. Damn!
You did your best.
I appreciate it, Cap.
I was the deciding vote.
There we go.
-There we go.
There we go.
-Is that what I think it is?
Oh hey, Cap. Been practicing your skyhook.
Way I figure, be seeing more time in the post
against Philly, so better have a go-to.
-Abdul- That is not a skyhook. -Ain't that bad.
Well, why ain't you show me then?
-Skyhook isn't just any other shot.
To master it,
a player needs to comprehend
a very important principle.
And what principle is that?
Isolation. Come over here and play a little defense.
See, when you're the big man,
everybody wants a piece of you.
The skyhook shuts them out.
It turns your body into a wall,
beyond which they can't reach or even see your face,
which means they can't predict you.
So, on your own time, when you're good and ready,
you can leave their world behind.
You leave the world?
You elevate above it.
Until you're completely and totally...
-...alone.
And all they get to do is watch.
Damn, Cap.
You some kind of poet or somethin'.
That shit deep.
Alright, let's work on it.
I can't have you fucking up my shot on the world stage.
Come on, get that arm up straight,
like the Statue of Liberty.
It's the most elegant finish
in all of sports.
Right on.
-Hey! Sprinkles!
Hey!
-Yeah, that's right.
Wood, Wood, Wood.
What the fuck, brother?
Congrats on the Finals, man. Time to get that shiny ring, eh?
You still got that magnum?
Oh, man, I got...
I got lots of guns. I got a bazooka.
I don't care what you use,
as long as it works.
Sure, man. Yeah, right on. Love to do that for a friend.
You just say the word.
Who do you want me to kill?
The Lakers.