04x28 - A Medal for Margaret

[bunniefuu]

[Announcer] Here are...

with Elinor Donahue, Billy Gray,

and Lauren Chapin in...

Wow, first place in the
quarter-mile relay, huh?

And second place
in the half mile,

and third in the ,

and this ribbon is for
fourth in the broad jump.

You had yourself quite
a day at that track meet.

- That's wonderful, Bud.
- Let me see them.

It's a shame that these will just
be thrown into a dresser drawer

with all the other medals.

They should be put in
a frame or something,

where people would see them.

Oh, no. Everybody would think

I was a glory hog or something.

I have your mail
down here, dear.

It is too bad there isn't
more use for this junk.

I have all those tennis
and debating trophies

just gathering dust
up in my closet.

With an illustrious

and award-winning
family like this,

we should have
a big trophy case.

Even old Kathy here can
contribute a few awards.

Her spelling contest medals.

And the gold doughnut I won

for selling the most doughnuts
for the little squad, and...

- That's brass.
- It's gold.

It might not be a bad idea
to build a trophy case, at that.

Least there'd be a place
to store all that stuff.

Yeah, Dad, let's build one.

You've got a cup or
something you could chuck in.

A cup? I'm loaded.

I've got two golf cups,

an old cigar box full of
basketball and track medals,

and don't forget
my biggest triumph...

A third-place ribbon in the state
high school bookkeeping contest.

Oh, thrill. That should be in
a special case, all by itself.

Where do you think
we ought to put it, Dad?

Right about here,
don't you think?

Oh, no. I don't want
any homemade furniture

in my living room.

Let's put it in the basement.

Make that a trophy room.

Yeah.

You know what we ought to do?

We ought to make a list
of everything we've won,

so we'll know how
big to build the case.

No, wait, Dad.

I'm just going out to
get the newspaper.

Don't leave, Mom.

I have to start dinner.

Okay, do yours first,
then, so you can leave.

Now then, how many medals
and stuff have you won?

Me? I haven't won any medals.

You haven't?

Not even one medal?

You must have won something.

Yeah, no one can live
all the years you have

and then not win something
somewhere along the line.

Well, I haven't.
And I don't like

the way you say
"all those years."

Not even a little ribbon?

Even a little ribbon.

Gee.

Oh, don't look so sad.

I'm perfectly happy
cooking the meals

to keep all you
champions hale and hearty.

And I better go do that,

or you won't have
enough strength

to carry all your medals
down to the trophy room.

Not even a little certificate
for honorable mention?

Poor Mom.

Must be awful not
having any talent.

Hey, what was all that
pounding and sawing

I heard over here last night?

You building a rocket ship?

No, not quite.

Bud won some medals at
the track meet yesterday,

so that gave Jim the idea of
building a trophy case in the basement

for all the medals and cups

the family has
won over the years.

Pretty gruesome.

No, it is.

Medal? Did you ever win any
medals at sports or anything like that?

Well, I won a prize
once in high school

for doing the most push-ups.

Push-ups. Oh, isn't that
a horrible thing to admit?

You know something, Myrtle?

I've never won anything.

Never?

I was a fairly good student.

I was in lots of
plays and things,

but I never won a
single measly medal.

Not that it matters, of course,

but, well...

But what?

It's made my family
feel so sorry for me,

I can hardly stand it.

That's the silliest
thing I ever heard of.

It is silly,

and the more I tell the
children I don't want any medals,

the more they think
I'm trying to cover up

for a lifetime of failures.

I'd give anything if I
could win some medal,

so that I could put an end

to their great distress over me.

Why don't you do it?

But how?

What are you good at?

You picked the
nub of the problem.

There's nothing.

I can't ski jump or high dive.

I can't hurl a sh*t put.

I can't even work a yo-yo.

You've been fishing
with Jim, haven't you?

Well, yes, but I'm lucky
if I can land my bait.

Listen. Every spring,

they have a fly
casting tournament

over at the pool in
the park, for women.

- Well, yes, but...
- Let me finish.

Ed always tries to get me
to take lessons and enter

because he says the
few women that do enter it

aren't very good.

That's what you can do.

But I'm no good with a fly rod.

You will be when Cliff
gets through with you.

Cliff? Who's Cliff?

Cliff Wyatt.

He gives casting
lessons at the park.

Ed says he's wonderful.

Let's call him up right
now and get you started.

No, Myrtle. I don't
think I'd better.

This is no time for thinking.

What you want is action.

I know one thing...
If I do try this,

I don't want Jim or any of the
children to know a thing about it.

They won't.

Think how really
grief-stricken they'd feel

if I tried to do something,
and then failed.

You won't.

Hello. May I speak
with Cliff Wyatt, please?

So you want to be
a fly fisherman, huh?

Oh, well, I hardly
expect to be an expert.

I just want to learn
enough so I can win a medal

in the casting
tournament. That's all.

Oh. That's all, huh?

Well, I didn't mean it that way.

I know it's very hard to do,

but I intend to work very hard.

And Myrtle Davis told me...

Okay, let's see the rod.

Hm, that's a pretty nice rod.

Where'd you get this?

It's my husband's.

Does he know you got it?

To be honest, no. He doesn't.

Don't tell him.

That is, if you don't want
to break up your marriage.

Oh, don't worry.

I don't want him to
know a thing about this.

Okay, let's see what you can do.

No, no, no.

Don't grip it like
you're choking a snake.

Relax. Get this hand down here.

Take an easy grip
on the rod here.

Set them down here.

Relax all over.

Here, let me show you
what we're trying to do.

Watch me.

Grip your rod lightly,
raise with the forearm,

kick with the wrist.

Lift your rod. Finish
up with a snap.

Forward with a snap.

Pick it up. Bring it forward.
Finish up with a snap.

Back with a snap.

Forward with a snap.

And there you are.

That looks easy.

Hm.

Let's work together.

Relax your grip. Raise your arm.

Snap it back. Forward
with your arm, and snap.

Back and snap it.

Forward. Keep in rhythm.

Got it?

I think so.

I doubt it.

Ow!

How in the world do
you suppose I did that?

Takes talent, ma'am.

On your first cast, too.

Cliff, what did I do wrong?

I mean, the main thing.

Well, ma'am,

I'd say the main
thing you did wrong

was to listen to Myrtle
Davis in the first place.

Hi, Mom.

What are you doing down there?

You're looking over
the trophy case?

Yes. I think it's
going to be fine.

Sure wish you had
something to put in there.

Who knows? Maybe
some day, I will have.

Well, how's it going, boy?

Pretty good, Dad.

Well, I don't know. I feel a
little guilty working on this case.

Guilty?

With Mom around.

I know how bad she feels,

not being a part of all this.

Bud, how many times
do I have to tell you?

She isn't concerned
about little things like this.

Oh, you're wrong.

She even sneaks down
here when we're gone

to look at the case.

Oh, now Bud...

Why would she be bothered

with an insignificant
thing like medals?

Because she hasn't got any.

It's like food...

When you got plenty,
it doesn't mean much.

But when you're starving,

then it's the most
important thing in the world.

You see, Dad?

It's hard for you and
me to understand

how a person feels
who has no talent.

No talent?

In the first place,

your mother has
more talent in...

Hey, what's my good fly
rod doing out of its case?

Search me. I
didn't even touch it.

I know better than that.

It's probably Kathy.

I better have a talk
with that young lady.

Mommy, here's a
little bronze pin I won

for perfect attendance at
Sunday school when I was a kid.

You can have it.

- Kathy, I don't want your pin.
- Go on, take it.

This will at least give
you one thing to put in.

If I get any medals,
I'll win them myself.

And who knows?
I may just do that.

Yeah, if you only could.

What do you
mean, if I only... Oh.

Who's been fooling
around with my good fly rod?

Kathy?

No, it wasn't me, Daddy.

Honest.

It has to be somebody.

Was it you?

Me? What would I
be doing with a fly rod?

Well, I...

Yes, I guess that was
a ridiculous question.

Just don't ever let me catch you

playing around with
this, understand?

Ridiculous, eh?

Just you wait.

But I am showing some
improvement, aren't I, Cliff?

Oh, yes.

Yes, you raised your target

a good foot and a half.

Why do I keep catching myself?

You're bringing
your rod too far back,

like you're b*ating a rug.

Your back cast is
too low, too sloppy.

Try it again.

Don't bring your rod any
farther back than here.

Keep your back cast high. Okay.

Again.

That's it. Again.

Again.

Again.

Oh, I'm so sorry, Cliff.

Will I ever learn?

Do you think I'll ever have a
chance in that tournament?

Oh, yes, yes.

There's always a chance

that all the other
ladies in the contest

will fall down and
break their arms.

Yes, I'm learning.

In fact, this was my best day.

But you know, I'm
afraid Cliff hates me.

Oh, no, that's just
the way he acts.

I'm sure he's crazy about you.

Well, I wish he'd find
another way of showing it.

He acts like that with everyone.

Come on, show me
what you've learned so far.

I don't dare to.

I barely have time to
get these things put away

and my clothes changed before
the kids start coming home.

[car horn honks]

Here they come here. Hide.

Hi, Mrs. Davis.

Look at the doors I got
for the trophy case, Mom.

They look very nice.

Yeah.

Well, I better get
to work on them.

Here, give me those so
I can smuggle them in.

Oh, here comes Jim.

See you later.

Haven't you got dinner
started yet, Mom? I'm starved.

Not quite.

- Hi, hon.
- Oh.

What's the matter?
Did I startle you?

Yes, you certainly did.

You should be used to my
coming home after all these years.

What's for dinner? I'm starved.

I'll fix something just as
soon as I change my clothes.

Hey, Dad, here it is.
What do you think?

Oh, yes, that'll be fine.

Clean it up a little bit. Get
some of this old putty off of here.

Put on some new one, and...

Who's monkeying
around with my fly rod?

I don't know, Dad.

I'm sure it isn't Kathy,
after the lecture I gave her.

Betty has no
interest in fly fishing.

And it couldn't
possibly be your mother.

Maybe we got a
ghost who likes to fish.

This is the weirdest letter
I've ever received. Listen.

"Dear Miss Anderson,

"Your instructor, Cliff
Wyatt, filed your entry ballot

"for the annual Springfield
Park Fly Casting Tournament,

"but he failed to
have you sign it.

- Please sign..."
- Fly casting?

Hey, wait a minute.

My gosh, it's Betty.

She's been taking your rod.

What rod? I don't
know anything about...

Hey, wait, this isn't for me.

The name on this is
Margaret Anderson.

Margaret?

That couldn't possibly be.

Why would she enter a
fly casting tournament?

She can't cast worth a...

Hey, wait. What does
that say... Her instructor?

Yes, Cliff Wyatt.

You don't suppose
she's been taking lessons.

- Oh, no.
- My gosh, that's it, Dad.

Sure, that explains everything.

She's trying to win a medal
to catch up with the rest of us.

That couldn't be.

Or could it?

Sure it could.

I been trying to tell
you all along how much

this thing's been bothering her.

I think it's cute.

Cute? It's sad.

Poor old Mom, flubbing
around out there.

Wait. Don't
underestimate your mother.

But here's the important thing.

Obviously, she doesn't want
us to know anything about this,

so as far as she's concerned,
we don't know a thing.

Betty, you seal
that letter back up.

I can't, I ripped it open.

Okay then, sign
"Margaret" on the entry blank

and mail it back to them.

Dad, Dad, I hear her coming.

Oh.

[humming]

Well, what do you think?

Well, if I wasn't seeing
it, I wouldn't believe it.

I've been practicing
every spare minute.

Do you think I'm ready
for the tournament?

You better be. It's
tomorrow afternoon.

Yes, I know.

Tell me truthfully, Cliff.

Don't be nice to me. Be brutal.

Do I stand any chance
of winning this thing?

Well, you keep up the
work you did for me just now,

and I'd say the rest of
these water-slapping ladies

you'll be up against won't
stand much of a chance.

You really mean that, Cliff?

You got to keep
that back cast high.

And don't get tensed up.

And when you lay
that fly out there,

don't lay it right
down at the ring.

Lay it above the
ring and let it drift in.

Okay, I'll be out there

to watch you tomorrow afternoon.

Myrtle, Myrtle, Cliff says
I'm a sure bet to win the...

Oh! Oh.

Oh, my arm.

Oh, Margaret, what happened?

Oh, my arm. I think it's broken.

Oh, no.

Does your arm hurt, Mommy?

No, it's fine.

How'd you say you
broke your arm?

It's not broken.

I sprained it running
up the Davis' front steps.

Well, why were you
running up the Davis'...

Kathy.

Will you go downstairs

and see how they're
coming with my dinner?

All right.

Here's a ribbon I won once

in a Sunday school picnic race.

I won't need it,
so you can have it.

I don't want it.

Oh.

Oh, poor Mother.

This is the dirtiest deal
fate has ever dished out.

Imagine having
this happen to her

the night before the
casting tournament.

Yeah, after knocking herself
out, taking all those lessons.

I wish she could have won that.

Isn't there something
else we can think of

where she can win
some kind of medal?

Something she can
do with a sprained arm.

I wish there was some
way we could cheer her up,

but we can't even console
her about her tough break,

because we're not supposed
to know about the tournament.

We can't even tell her what
a great guy we think she is

for making the old try.

[chuckles]

What's so funny?

Betty, take the tray
up to your mother

while I start working
on the typewriter.

Typewriter?

And, Bud, see if you can get me

a couple pieces of cardboard,

about that size.

What are we going to do?

We're going to give your mother

the biggest
surprise of her life.

But, Kathy, what if I don't
want to come downstairs?

Well, you have to. We
have something to show you.

Well, couldn't you show
me up in the bedroom?

No, it's too big. This'll
be very interesting.

I'll bet.

Well, good evening,
Mrs. Anderson.

Would you say a few
words into our microphone.

Well, a few words about what?

Oh, about anything.

Here, trying reading the
words on this book cover.

Margaret Anderson, this...

This is your life?

Yes, Margaret
Anderson, this is your life.

[cheers]

Now, now, Mrs. Anderson,
don't be nervous. Just relax.

As we relive the exciting
pages of your harrowing life.

Now, your life begin... Oh.

Your life began,
Margaret, at birth.

[snicker]

But unfortunately, no medals
are given for being born.

So you plunge on into girlhood.

You play, learn,
eat, sleep, and grow.

None of which activities
are reward with prizes.

So you leap into
young womanhood,

where you meet a
man and marry him.

And he's no prize, either.

Uh, you make the best
of your marriage however

and then your
first child is born.

A scrawny little thing,
but you love it anyway.

[Betty] I remember the lean days

when Mother used
to make creamed tuna

and convince us it was chicken.

Yes, that is the voice
of your eldest child.

Whom you have not
seen in over nine seconds.

Mother.

Those nine seconds have
hardly changed you at all.

Exactly what is this all about.

Uh-Uh, Betty,

tell me about Mrs. Anderson.

Is she a fairy godmother?

Fairly good mother?

Well...

We try to make the
best of it, you know?

Commendable at...

Commendable attitude.

Uh, what was that

you were telling me
about a costume party?

Oh, yes, it was my
first costume party.

I was years old.

Mother had made
me a fancy costume,

but on the way to party,

I fell in a mud puddle
and just ruined it.

Oh, I ran home
crying, brokenhearted.

But Mother didn't bat an eye.

She dashed up into the attic

and practically out of thin air

threw together a new costume.

So I not only got
to go to the party,

but I won first prize.

I thought then she
was the greatest,

smartest mother
in the whole world.

Of course, now that I'm older,

I'm sure of it.

And so, Mrs. Anderson,
I award you this plaque

for Most Valuable Mother.

Oh, well, I...

Now, when in the world
did you do all of this?

Uh, never mind that now.

You'll have plenty
of time to talk to her

later at the party
we're throwing for you

at the Waldorf Pool Hall.

And so, Margaret, you plow
on through the sea of life,

and soon your
second child is born.

And he's no trophy, either.

[Bud] I remember
how she conned me

into wearing patched pants

by telling me patches
were badges of honor.

Recognize that voice?

That's the pickpocket you
met on the bus to Normandy.

Mrs. Anderson.

Sir, I understand you
knew Mrs. Anderson

back in the year
of the big rain?

Oh, uh... Oh, yes.

Well, that rain really
flooded the streets.

And on the way home from school,

Joe Phillips and I got so
interested in building a dam

that I forgot all
about my paper route.

I rushed home,

knowing I'd be fired
and feeling terrible.

And then I found out

that this character had
gone out in the storm

and delivered all
my papers for me.

I'm sure I never told her,

but I was so grateful

I felt it right down in the
middle of my stomach.

And so, Mom...

And so...

And so I present you

with the National Boy's
Best Friend Trophy.

Oh.

It's a shaving mug. Just
what I always wanted.

Uh, In spite of all
this, you struggled on,

and soon your
third child is born.

And soon your
third child is born.

Kathy?

I forgot what I was
supposed to say.

Our best joke, too.

Come on in.

Uh, you recognize
that voice of course.

Scarlett O'Hara. Scarlett,
would you tell us about the time...

Well, one day in school. I
was the only one in the...

Well, one day in school I
was the only one in the class

who brought a slip telling
how many pumpkin pies

my mother would bake
for the PTA bake sale.

So our teacher made a big speech

about how dependable
my mother was

and how much better
the world would be

if there were more
people like her.

Boy, I was so
proud I almost cried.

Well, here's the blue
ribbon you've won

for being the mother
I'm the most proud of.

Oh, thank you, Kathy.

I'm going to put this

right in the center
of the trophy case.

[Man] Well, sir,
when I first saw her,

I thought she was
a hopeless case.

Oh, no.

[all laugh]

You knew it all the
time. I could hit you.

Cliff Wyatt, I understand
that Mrs. Anderson

is a pupil of yours.
Is she any good?

She was pitiful and
the worst of it was

she was sneaking
her husband's fly rod.

Oh, that's awful.

So, to keep you

from ever doing that
again, Mrs. Anderson,

your husband wants you
to have a fly rod of your own.

Oh, no.

Oh, this is too much.

Oh, goodness.

And I award you
this box of flies

for being the best
pupil I ever had.

Oh, Cliff.

Oh, I don't know what to say.

Well, Mrs. Anderson,

you've won ribbons, trophies,
plaques, but still no medal.

So here's a medal for being
the best darn wife I ever had.

A fly reel.

[yelps]

[chatter]

Ouch! Hey, take it easy, Cliff.