going to believe this.
You're right.
It's wacky.
I filled up in Vegas.
I should have half a t*nk
at least.
Well... now what?
Well, we could just sit here.
Hmm?
I could convince you how smart |
was to have taken the back road.
That should take us
till about sunrise.
I think I've got a better idea.
I was afraid you would.
I saw a gas station
a couple of miles back.
That's what I was afraid of.
Al right.
You won't mind being alone?
Don't be gone long, okay?
Three things:
Windows up, doors locked
and, uh, miss me.
I'll miss you.
Hi.
Hi. What's the trouble?
I ran out of gas,
about a mile and a half
down the road here.
And if you'd give me a lift back
to the filling station,
I'd appreciate it.
Well, what do you know?
Marty Hatch! Right?
That's right.
How about that?
Right out here
in the middle of nowhere!
Hop in, Marty.
Thank you.
It's a good thing I came along.
That gas station just closed up.
But don't worry, we can siphon
a few gallons out of my t*nk,
compliments of Ken Gary
and the state of California.
All right, Ken Gary. Fine.
Hey, shake hands with the guy
who thinks you are
the greatest, bar none.
And I've seen every quarterback
from Sammy Baugh on.
I sure wish
you were still playing.
Well, that makes two of us, Ken.
Boy, when the guys
hear about this!
Foreign job, huh?
I guess you got
one of those locked gas caps.
Well, get it open, Marty,
and I'll have you
out of here in no time.
Right.
Hey, we'll be seeing you on TV
Sunday, right?
Marty Hatch Day at the stadium.
Yeah, right.
Anyone in the League
deserves it-- you do.
Least they didn't wait
for you to die
to let you know they cared.
Old football players
never die, Ken.
Owners just give "em a new set
of wheels from Detroit
and tell 'em to fade away.
No chance the old knee
will ever shape up again?
No chance.
Tough break.
But then the game's been good
to you, I guess.
I mean, you know, you're
on the right side of ,
and, uh, you're set for life.
Well, you didn't hear me beef,
did you, Ken?
Marty Hatch put up a beef?
No way!
Marty Hatch.
You know, the guys will think
I'm putting them on.
I'm sorry I had to drag you all
the way out here, Mr. Mannix.
Well, that's quite all right.
Still no word?
No, and I haven't left the house
for a second
just in case Cathy would call...
or somebody would call.
Now you said she called you from
Vegas last night around
Yeah. She said
she was just leaving.
By plane or car?
Plane, I guess.
She had a round-trip ticket.
Coffee's on.
Would you like some?
Yes, thank you.
Black.
Did she go alone?
Yes.
We had tickets to the opening
at the Caravan.
I couldn't get away.
I'm really terribly worried,
Mr. Mannix.
Well, she's only been
missing a few hours.
I'm sure she'll show up.
If it was anybody else,
I wouldn't be so concerned.
But Cathy-- if she's gonna be
three minutes late,
she calls to let you know.
Did you, uh, call the police?
Yes.
The Las Vegas Police.
They said
she checked out of the hotel
at about : last night.
That would have given her time
to catch the : plane.
I called the Las Vegas Airport,
and she wasn't on the :
passenger list
or any list since then.
Mm-hmm.
Is it possible that she could
have gone someplace
other than Los Angeles?
She would have called me.
Mm.
Could she have run into somebody
she knew, who was driving back?
Well, that's possible,
of course.
You have any idea
who it might have been?
Nope.
Hmm. When you talked to her
last night on the phone,
did she mention any names?
Anyone at all?
No. She just called
to tell me that...
Hey, wait a minute,
she did mention somebody.
She said she'd had a drink
and a few laughs
with some... football player.
Did she say who?
Yes.
Marty Hatch.
What's eating you, Marty?
Nothing's eating me.
Everything's fine, Dave.
Just fine.
I've been with you a long time.
You get to know.
Yeah.
Well, this time
you got your signals crossed.
Okay, pal?
Okay, pal.
Never mind, Dave;
I'll get it.
Yeah, what can I do for you?
My name is Joe Mannix.
You probably don't remember,
but a couple of years ago--
Oh, yeah.
Yeah, I remember.
Dale Hendry's bash
after the er game.
You're a private
investigator, right?
That's right.
Well, what can
I do for you, Joe?
For a start, uh, can I come in?
Of course.
Come on.
Joe Mannix, my right hand,
Dave Trimble.
Hi.
Yeah, Dave Trimble,
Consensus All-American.
All-Pro nine years straight.
Just eight.
Aw, it's too bad about him.
Dave, do me a favor.
Get on the phone to the agency
and ask Koningsberg
if he's firmed up
that appointment
with the publishing dude, okay?
Right.
Well, nice meetin' ya.
Likewise.
Can I get you a drink, Joe?
No, thanks.
I got a big day ahead of me.
Well, I don't have
to watch the clock anymore.
What brings you here?
I understand
you know Cathy Lawson.
Mm, yeah. Yeah.
Bumped into her in Vegas
last night, as a matter of fact.
Did she drive back
with you from Las Vegas?
Why all the questions?
Something wrong?
She's missing.
No kidding.
Her roommate hired me
to look for her.
Joanna? That, uh...
that's her name, isn't it?
Yeah.
Well, uh...
Joe, Joanna can't afford
a private investigator,
and I can.
So this one's, uh...
this one's on me, okay?
Okay.
Did Cathy drive back with you?
Well, now you're
working for me, right?
Right.
And that means that anything
I say to you is, uh...
Privileged.
That's the word
I was looking for.
Yeah, she rode down with me.
We ran out of gas on the way.
I left her in the car;
went back to a filling station.
Highway patrolman
picked me up, and, uh,
when we got back to the car,
she was gone.
Did you tell the Highway Patrol?
You've, uh... heard of Ben
Kessler, haven't you, Joe?
Owns the Caravan
and a string of bookie joints.
He owns Cathy, too.
"Owns"?
Mm-hmm.
And the penalty for trespassing
is sudden death.
I take it Kessler didn't know
she was driving back with you?
No, he was out of town.
New Orleans.
But if it ever got
into the newspaper
that I'd given his girl a lift--
good-bye Marty Hatch.
If that's for me, Dave,
I'm not here.
All right, Joe, it was stupid.
I... thought that she got scared
and started to walk.
Got a lift to L.A.
I didn't know what to do.
Hey, Marty, this call
you better take.
Who is it?
It's from a hospital
in San Bernardino.
Woman they brought in
early this morning.
She keeps asking for you.
After Marty left,
I sat there kind of scared.
I heard a car stop...
and I looked out
the rear window.
I thought maybe you'd caught
a ride back.
Cathy, I don't know how to tell
you how sorry I am.
Hey, it's not your fault, Marty.
Then what happened, Miss Lawson?
Uh...
then a man got out of the car.
Anyone you'd ever seen before?
I- couldn't tell.
He wore a ski mask.
All I could see were his eyes,
staring at me
through the car window
and a g*n pointing at me.
And then what?
He made me unlock the door.
He pulled me out,
dragged me off the road
and started choking me.
We heard a car coming,
and he panicked.
He-He grabbed for my purse.
I guess I passed out,
because the next thing
I remember, he was gone...
and I was gagged and tied.
So I worked myself free
and then I made my way back
to the road.
Doc said that a young couple
picked you up
and brought you here.
Yes.
They were very nice.
Miss Lawson, I think you'd
better call your roommate
and tell her you're all right.
She's been worried sick.
Yeah.
No answer.
She's been waiting by that phone
ever since you disappeared.
By
By
I think his nose was
just a little broader.
And could you, uh, raise
the cheekbones just a little?
Now give him
a little smile, Pete.
Smile?
Yeah, this guy was happy
with his work.
Hello, Joe.
Art. Pete.
Hello, Lieutenant.
Did you find out anything
at the house?
Some footprints in the backyard,
some tire tracks on the road.
Neither one of them very clear.
And no fingerprints.
I'd say he was a pro.
Well, maybe this will give us
something to go on.
Not us.
This is my ball game, Joe.
Hey, Art,
I'm the guy he sh*t at.
I'd like to be the one that
tears up his g*n permit.
You better keep your head down.
He might not miss the next time.
How's this, Joe?
Mm...
a happy hoodlum.
All right, we'll run
some prints off.
You mind if I get
a couple copies, Art?
Wallet-size.
Mementos.
Okay, Pete.
Thanks.
Joe, there just has
to be a connection.
Last night, a psycho drags
a woman out of her car,
starts to strangle her...
...and this morning,
her roommate is m*rder*d.
There may be a connection, Art,
but it wasn't the same man.
Why do you say that?
Different M.O.
One was a choker,
one used a g*n.
One wore a ski mask,
grabbed a purse and ran.
The other left a purse
and tore the joint apart
looking for something else.
Mm.
I think the one I saw
got what he was after.
Why do you say that?
Why was he smiling?
Do you know this man?
No.
Is the one who...?
He may be.
Poor Joanna, I...
How horrible.
Do you know if Joanna
was in any kind of trouble?
None that I know of.
No stormy romances?
Nobody who might
have been jealous?
Her husband was k*lled in
a car accident a year ago.
That's when
she moved in with me.
She didn't date,
as far as I know.
Who could have done
such a thing?
Now, uh,
let me worry about that.
You just worry about
getting well, huh?
I am getting well.
The doctors say
I can go home today.
Ah, well, I'm afraid home
is off-limits
until they catch this joker.
We can stop by
and pick up a bag for you.
I've got a place you can stay.
A producer I know is making
a movie in Tahiti,
SO you're gonna
boat-sit for him.
All the comforts of home:
TV, shower, stove,
refrigerator, telephone,
and an all-day sea breeze.
Oh, and at night,
or when you're below,
you'd better
lock the hatch from inside.
And remember, anything
suspicious, just hit that phone.
Mannix.
Joe, Marty Hatch wants
to see you.
Says it's important.
Well, I don't know
how important it is,
but it sure does explain
my lousy gas mileage.
What happened?
Just before I phoned you,
I got a call from Dave.
He took the car over
to Hollywood
to get it checked out
this morning,
and Ossie Diamond--
Ossie's my tune-up guy--
He couldn't find
anything wrong with it,
so he put it up on the rack.
Found a bunch of tape stuck to
the underside of the gas t*nk.
He yanked it off
and what do you know?
There's a hole as big
as your little finger.
Man-made?
Mm-hmm.
Clean and round.
Made by an awl or an ice pick,
Dave figures.
How far this side of Vegas were
you when you ran out of gas?
Hundred miles or so.
A hole that size, you wouldn't
have covered miles.
Did you stop anyplace
along the way?
Once. A coffee shop.
“Where?
I don't remember
the name of the town,
but it was about...
miles back.
Yeah.
Somebody punched a hole
in your gas t*nk
while you were in
having your coffee,
then he trailed you down
the road until you ran dry.
When you hiked back
to look for gas,
he got rid of Cathy
and taped up the hole.
Why? To get something out
of Cathy's purse?
That's the question.
We might have the answer if you
can put a name to this face.
I think he's the one
that k*lled Joanna.
Well, why do you think that?
I was there.
Do you know him?
Uh, no, I don't.
For a minute I thought,
but it couldn't be.
Who?
Tiny Cordell. Halfback.
Plays up in Canada now.
Doesn't look anything like
Cordell and you know it.
I said it wasn't him, didn't I?
Okay, let's start over.
Do you know him?
I told you-- no.
Okay, Marty, you're paying me.
I'll find him.
Well, here you go, Marty.
You got wheels again.
Thanks.
What sort of a guy would stick
a hole in somebody's gas t*nk?
How should I know?
Anyway, it's fixed, isn't it?
So let's just drop
the whole thing, okay?
Okay.
You want me
to fix you another drink?
What do you mean,
"another drink"?
Since when you started counting?
I'm sorry.
For what?
Unnecessary roughness.
-yard penalty.
You can march it off
my backside, if you want.
Well, penalty declined.
But "sorry"” part accepted.
Do me a favor, book me a plane
to Vegas tonight, will you?
You just came back.
I know.
Any flight after :
will be fine.
Hey, look who's here!
The Golden Arm!
Hey, Marty, bet the line,
babe, I'm hot.
Some other time.
But, thanks.
Seven! Seven
the one to play!
Mickey, you seen
Bud Tolan tonight?
Not tonight.
When?
This morning.
He should be back
in a few minutes.
When he comes in,
tell him I'll be at the bar.
Stick around, Dutch.
Hey.
Hello, Augie.
Scotch and soda, right?
Yeah, with a lemon twist
tonight.
Hey, Sunday-- big day, huh?
We're all rooting for you
up here, especially me.
Hey, Marty, what's with you?
You come to Vegas, you don't
look up your old pals, huh?
Ben, I thought you were
in New Orleans.
Yeah.
That why you got
back here so quick?
Action's better when
Ben Kessler's out of town, huh?
Come on, you know me
better than that, Ben.
Maybe you and I better have
a little talk about Cathy.
You, uh... you heard
about that, I guess.
Yeah, I guess I did.
All the way down in New Orleans.
You know, Marty,
there's something
you don't know about me.
When my friends start
getting cozy with my girl
the second my back is turned,
that's the time I stop thinking
about them as my friend.
Now, wait a minute, Ben...
You'd like to be on hand
for Marty Hatch Day,
wouldn't you, friend?
Ben, it just happened
that we were going
to Los Angeles at the same time.
Now, that's true.
Well, don't ever leave
at the same time again.
If you do,
you'll live to regret it.
If you live.
You understand?
Yeah, I understand, Ben.
Good lad.
Now, how's everything else
going, okay?
Uh, fine, sure.
Dutch.
Congratulations on Sunday.
You've earned it all and more.
Thanks.
Marty's decided that he better
hop back to Los Angeles.
Drive him out to the airport.
Ben.
Hey, Joe.
Augie.
What are you doing here?
I came up to see Marty Hatch.
He just left.
I know.
That's why I'm sitting here
having a pleasant chat
with you, Augie.
Irish rocks, right?
Tell me, uh...
why would Marty Hatch
fly up here from LA,
talk to Ben Kessler
for roughly a minute and a half,
and then fly right back again?
I wouldn't even guess, Joe.
Augie, a couple of years ago,
in a dark alley one night,
you would have had
your brains scrambled.
If you hadn't shown up.
I know, Joe.
I owe you.
It's payoff time, right?
Right.
I get off in a half hour.
My relief will be here.
I'll meet you then.
Same alley?
Same alley.
Okay, Augie,
what do you know about
the comings and goings
of one Marty Hatch?
Uh, he shows up
every week or two.
Play big?
Table stakes.
You think he could've
gotten in too deep?
No, I'd have heard about it.
In this town,
things like that get around.
What's around about, uh,
Ben Kessler's girl?
Cathy Lawson?
Hm.
She's a nice kid.
All his girls are.
Plays the field, huh?
Yeah, but one at a time.
See, that's what fools them.
Soon as they get comfortable
and they hear the sound
of wedding bells, that's Ben's
cue to give them the gate.
Let's suppose Cathy heard the
gate opening and wanted to stay,
had something on Kessler
and threatened to spill it?
Oops.
Then he'd find a way
to clam her up for good.
You know him?
Joe, what's this all about?
No, never mind.
Forget it.
I don't want to know.
Who is he, Augie?
Uh, Bud... Bud Tolan.
What's he do?
He's one of Kessler's watchdogs.
Was he at the Caravan tonight?
I didn't see him.
How about last night?
I couldn't say.
Augie.
Honest.
I've gotta know.
I've gotta know
about last night.
Now, you ask around,
find out where Bud Tolan was.
Joe, I'm off-duty.
If I go back in there
asking questions,
the vibes are gonna go out.
Ask tomorrow.
Then call me.
All right, if I find out,
does that make us even?
It puts you ahead, Augie.
By
Oh, hi, Joe.
Marty, can I come in?
Yeah, sure. Come on.
What'|| you have, Joe?
Just the answer
to a couple of questions.
Why did you go back up
to Vegas last night?
Well, I figured
that Kessler might find out
that I gave his girl a lift.
So you went up
to plead innocent.
Seemed like a good idea.
Sorry, Marty.
Sounds good,
but I'm not buying it.
Why else would I have
gone there, Joe?
Talk to Bud Tolan maybe.
It's rerun time.
Yeah, that's Tolan, I guess.
Marty, I've got to stay
on the cop's side of the street
or I lose my license.
Now, when I find out
a client's been conning me...
Now, wait a minute, Joe.
I wasn't sure.
I've seen Tolan maybe
once, twice in my whole life.
He may have been the guy who
grabbed Cathy out of your car.
Why would he have done that?
I thought you might tell me.
No.
I've told you everything
that I know.
And about Cathy.
I've called her place
a dozen times, nobody answers.
What gives?
I didn't want her
staying out there alone.
I put her someplace
where she'd be safe.
Well, that's a relief, anyway.
You're sure there's nothing else
you can tell me about Bud Tolan?
No.
Uh, do you mind, Joe?
I've got signal practice
in less than an hour.
Oh, you playing again?
Coaching.
College or pro?
Bel Air Tigers.
Nobody over .
Good luck, Coach.
Joe?
Marty! What's going on?!
Tell him I'm dead.
Marty, are you okay?!
It's Mannix; he's been k*lled.
Call the police.
Call the police back,
tell them it was a mistake.
...Flight
now arriving at Gate .
Southeastern Airways Flight
now arriving at Gate .
Hold it right there, Tolan.
Last call for Flight to
Los Angeles, boarding at Gate .
Last call for
Flight to Los Angeles,
boarding at Gate .
Down!
Preset!
Hut-hut!
That's all right, Bob,
but on a short pass
over the middle like that,
you got to keep the ball down.
Got to keep it flat.
Okay, Coach.
All right, guys, that's it.
Uh, Dave will run
a... a few plays with you
and I'll see you all Monday.
See you Sunday, Coach.
Marty Hatch Day.
Whole team will be there.
Why don't you toss one, Coach?
All right, get on out there.
Throw it to me.
I got it!
Marty.
Did you catch up
with that guy, Joe?
No, he got away,
but it was Bud Tolan all right.
Well, what now?
Well, we'll have to look
in a different direction.
What direction's that?
My secretary's been
making a few phone calls.
She's a bright gal, Marty;
really bright.
She found out a few things--
about you, for instance.
Such as?
That you haven't worked since
you quit football two years ago.
No personal appearances,
no endorsements,
no TV commercials,
no TV talk shows,
no book telling it
like it was, nothing.
I don't like
that kind of hustling.
Two years and you haven't
changed your lifestyle.
Big house, finest clothes,
fancy foreign car,
never miss an opening at Vegas.
That all takes money, Marty.
Where does it come from?
Good investments, Joe.
Like Swiss International?
When that boy wonder went behind
bars, you dropped grand.
And that was just one of
your investments that went sour.
I told you
I had a smart secretary.
Yeah.
See ya, Coach!
Six months ago,
you were flat broke.
Couldn't even pay
your property taxes.
Well, I got lucky in Vegas, Joe.
Made a bundle.
Did you, Marty?
Or did you go
on Ben Kessler's payroll?
Now, what does that mean?
It means
you're working for a hood.
You...
No, Dave, Dave, Dave!
No, talking like that--
I'll k*ll him.
Look... you let me handle it.
It's okay.
Look, you pack up the gear, huh?
Take the car home.
It's all right, Dave,
it's all right.
Would you believe it, Joe--
All those years
he gave to the game?
Played his heart out
till he was over the hill.
And then...
tried to sell
used cars for awhile,
couldn't hack it,
and hit the skids.
I didn't come here
to talk about Dave Trimble.
He's a big part of it, Joe.
A couple of years ago
I was watching a game,
just after my knee went bad.
I had the glasses
on a young quarterback
running a play
out of the end zone.
I saw Dave
sitting about four rows up.
There I was on
the -yard line...
and there was Dave Trimble,
eight consecutive years
an all-pro,
and he was sitting
behind the goalposts.
Well, it sort of hit me
right where I live.
You know,
handwriting on the wall.
I fooled around with the idea
of getting a job for awhile,
but... after you've been a...
Celebrity?
You got an image,
you don't want it to change,
so no job's good enough--
not even a coaching job.
I made a pass at cutting down
on expenses, but...
living it up big's
like being a junkie--
It's tough to break the habit.
What did you do?
Got sucked into
those investments
that your bright secretary
found out about.
They were supposed to
set me up for life.
But instead, they wiped you out.
Six months ago,
I wasn't just busted, Joe...
I was in a hole
, bucks deep.
Then along came good old Ben
Kessler and bailed me out.
With just
a few strings attached.
I don't know why
I'm telling you all of this.
You're gonna
have to tell someone.
The government was
starting to sniff around
the Kessler operation.
They were out to prove
that he was skimming money
at the Caravan.
I imagine he was.
To the tune of a half a million
dollars a month.
Tax-free,
that's nice pin money.
He had it arranged so the
rip-off itself was no trouble.
The tough part was
getting the money to L.A.
and off to the laundry.
And your Ferrari
was the laundry truck.
I just drove the money
down for Kessler.
I was tailor-made for the job:
a Sunday hero that everyone
would pat on the back
and nobody would suspect.
I'd get a call
and drive up to Vegas.
When I drove back,
the skim money would be
in a briefcase in my trunk.
No fuss... no muss...
everyone cool.
Two or three weeks later,
I'd get another phone call.
"Go to the movies, Marty.
"The Roxy, : p.m.
"Leave the car
in the parking lot.
Enjoy the show, Marty."
When you drove home,
the money wasn't in the trunk.
After the first
two or three times,
I didn't even bother
to check anymore.
It was just that simple, Joe.
The night you ran out of gas...
did you check then?
Just as soon as the Highway
Patrolman drove off.
And no suitcase.
Uh-uh.
That's the big reason that
I kept quiet about Cathy--
So Ben Kessler wouldn't start
wondering about his money.
Your one chance was to find it
before you got a call
telling you to
go to another movie.
That's still my one chance, Joe.
Kessler's not gonna
believe me.
He'll just figure that
I framed the whole thing
in order to keep
the half million.
Who else could have known about
the money in your car?
Well, the only lead I have
is the one you gave me--
That drawing of Bud Tolan.
That is why I went to Vegas.
Dead end.
A friend of mine called me
this morning from Vegas.
The night you and
Cathy drove back,
Bud Tolan never left
the Caravan.
If it wasn't Tolan,
you got any other ideas?
Well, how about somebody
who could've overheard
a conversation or a phone call?
Like who?
Cathy Lawson.
Cathy? Why?
If she couldn't be Mrs. Kessler,
maybe she wanted a pension.
And that man in the ski mask,
she could have dreamed
the whole thing up
so she'd be in the clear.
But Joe, she couldn't have
punched a hole in the gas t*nk.
Now she was with me the whole
time in the coffee shop.
Well, she had a roommate,
didn't she-- Joanna Gregg--
Who just happened to wind up
dead the next day?
Well, if Joanna was involved,
why'd she call you
in the first place?
So she'd be in the clear.
My hunch is that
Bud Tolan tumbled to
what the girls were up to.
Came to L.A. to grab
the pension for himself.
k*lled Joanna, and, uh...
found the key to the locker.
I thought the locker was empty.
Yeah, that's the whole
ball game, Marty-- it was.
Mr. Mannix's office.
Peggy, I'm going to
see Cathy Lawson.
Call Art Malcolm and
tell him to meet me there.
Mariner's Bay in the marina...
Slip D---
a blue and white ketch
called the Walkabout.
All right, Joe.
Nice.
Very nice.
By
by
That's Tolan's car.
There he goes, Joe.
By
Stay out of sight.
By
Joe! Just above you!
Yeah, thanks, Art.
You'll stay there
with the doc, huh?
Yeah, I'll wait here.
Call me.
Is Marty going to be all right?
I've seen Marty decked a half
a dozen times in a game...
he always gets up.
He's one of the finest men
I've ever met.
Then why'd you set him up?
Set him up?
I'm talking about
skim money, Cathy.
That pot of gold
that was going to make
all your dreams come true.
You think I was involved in
something with Bud Tolan,
is that it?
Not by choice.
Tolan came here because he knew
you had the briefcase.
What briefcase?
The one your roommate
put in that airport locker.
Tolan came here, k*lled Joanna
and found the key.
I saw him in the house,
so he wanted me dead, too.
But there's one thing
he hadn't counted on.
What?
That you had planned on
double-crossing Joanna
all along, so you had
a second key made.
When Tolan got to the airport,
the cupboard was bare.
That briefcase is here with you,
isn't it, Cathy?
In that suitcase, maybe?
I really don't know what
you're talking about.
Cathy...
it'll take the police
all of two minutes to find it.
Maybe another three minutes
to confirm
that you were booked on
a flight out of the country.
Mexico, maybe?
Joe...
maybe you oughtn't to
make that phone call.
Why not?
I can give you...
oh, say... , reasons.
You can make a better deal
than that, Cathy.
How?
You know a lot
about Ben Kessler.
Open up to the police.
I'm sure the jury
will go easy on you.
After all,
you didn't k*ll anyone...
you just got greedy.
Ladies and gentlemen,
this is Tom Harmon.
Today, "Marty Hatch Day,”
brings back what is, for me,
a very personal memory.
Years ago-- a whole lot
of years ago, I'm afraid--
I first saw
a slender high school kid
cut the opposition to pieces
with his great passing arm.
Since that day, I've followed
Marty Hatch through college
and professional football,
and he has always performed
like a true superstar.
It was to have been
my privilege at this time
to introduce Marty to you
and the television audience.
Unfortunately,
he can't be with us.
As you probably know, the hero
of countless football games
was a hero
off the field yesterday,
when he was critically wounded
while helping
to apprehend a criminal.
But we can still pay tribute
to the man
whose golden arm passed
an expansion team
into a league championship in
his first year as quarterback.
Here are a few of the records
that belong to Marty Hatch:
Most passes completed in a game.
Most passing
yards gained in a game.
Most touchdown passes
in a game...
Wait'll they find out.
Find out what, Marty?
Ben Kessler'|| be so busy trying
to wriggle off that hook,
your name won't even come up.
Are you sure, Joe?
I'm sure, Marty.
Marty,
I hope you're watching this,
so you'll know that you
still have your fans,
and we're all still
rooting for you.
Hang in there, champ.
I know you've scored
tougher touchdowns.