08x02 - The Perfect Game

[bunniefuu]

♪ Take me out to the ball game ♪

♪ Take me out to the crowd ♪

♪ Buy me some peanuts
and cr*cker Jacks ♪

♪ I don't care if we
never get back... ♪

Strike two!

You know, Gloria, as you
learn about being an angel,

there's going to be a lot of
reading that you'll need to do,

but I didn't bring you here
to read about baseball.

I brought you here to
experience a baseball game.

Strike three!

Well, if you don't
mind my saying so, it...

seems like everything
about baseball is awfully slow.

In-Including that song.

I'm gonna let that pass,

'cause you haven't
been an angel very long.

- Strike one!
- Okay, get them while they are hot.

- Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah!
- No, thank you.

Gloria, come on, a... a hot
dog at a baseball game...

- this is an all-American tradition.
- Strike two!

It's not very exciting.

We've been here for almost
nine of those inning things,

and-and nothing's happened.

That pitcher keeps
striking everybody out.

- Look at him.
- Strike three!

Isn't he something?

Can you believe he's only 21?

That Ben McCloud's on
the way to the majors...

if that man doesn't
get in his way.

- Strike one!
- Can you hear me?

Can you hear me now?

Look, I'm telling
you the kid's ready.

Nobody down here can touch him.

Well, what are you waiting for?

Listen... if you're not
gonna bring him up,

- then I want him traded.
- Strike two!

Hello?

Wh-Who is he?

Well, he's probably some agent.

It burns me up to
see a kid like that

turned into a... commodity.

That's not an agent, angel boy.

That's his father.

Foul ball!

Hello? H-Hello?

Strike three!

Yeah!

And that concludes
today's ball game.

- Ben.
- Your Richmond Braves four...

Hey, here comes Dad.

Durham Bulls zero.

Heads up, guys.

Curveball's breaking late, son.

We got to work
on your mechanics.

I know, Dad.

Give him a break, Norm.

Your boy just pitched a shutout.

They only got two hits off him.

That's two hits shy
of a perfect game.

Maybe that's good
enough for your manager,

but not for me or you.

Come on, son.

They sure do take
this game seriously.

Yes, they do. And so should you,

because there's a great deal
that baseball can teach us.

Like teamwork.

For example... we're a team.

We are? You're on my team?

Right. And Ben and Norm
are on a different kind of team.

It's called a family.

There's something
you've got to learn

about the family, Gloria.

Families should stick together,
not be stuck with each other.

And sometimes they don't
tell each other the truth.

And in this case,
after three generations,

nobody even knows
what the truth is anymore.

Three generations?

Yeah, that's what I said.

♪♪

Strike!

There was another game, Tess,
a long time ago; you were there.

Yes, I was. And I
saw a baseball game

that changed the lives of
people that weren't even born yet.

And those people need
to hear this story told now.

- But?
- But...

it's locked in the mind of a man

who can't tell anybody about it.

♪ When you walk ♪

♪ Down the road ♪

♪ Heavy burden ♪

♪ Heavy load ♪

♪ I will rise ♪

♪ And I will walk with you ♪

♪ I'll walk with you ♪

♪ Till the sun
don't even shine ♪

♪ Walk with you ♪

♪ Every time, I tell you ♪

♪ I'll walk with you ♪

♪ Walk with you ♪

♪ Believe me, I'll
walk with you. ♪

Look at all the
press you'll get.

Hotshot, hey, can I
have your autograph?

Oh, no, wait, I wouldn't want
to strain such a valuable arm.

Give me a break, huh?

All right, listen up.

This is Monica, our new trainer.

Hello. I'm looking forward
to working with you.

Right now I want you to
concentrate on Ben's arm.

I need to work on
my curveball, Felix.

You need to stop
listening to your old man.

He's not your coach
anymore. That arm needs rest.

I don't want you touching
the ball today, you hear?

We're going to
start with something

important but simple.

That's him.

Candy McCloud.

His past is the key
to this assignment.

But, Tess, I-I think
we're a little late.

His-his mind, it looks
like it's already gone.

Let me explain something
to you, little angel.

And write it down.

Sometimes when humans get older,

their minds weaken,

but their spirits don't have to.

And this man's spirit
still wants to talk,

even though his
body won't let him.

So you're going
to sit with him...

you're going to let
him know who you are,

and that you're ready to listen,

and if he says anything,
you write it down.

And keep your eye on the ball.

Hello, Mr. McCloud. I'm Gloria.

I'll be your angel today.

Keep your eye
on Collins, Monica.

Kid never stretches,
and then he goes

and blows out a
hamstring running to first.

Collins? Got it.

Get to the ball, Torres!

That Ben McCloud... hard worker.

Yeah, kid's a real natural.

Trouble is, he doesn't
love the game enough.

Then why does he work so hard
at something he doesn't love?

Ask his old man.

Norm McCloud is as
much of a head case now

as he was when we were
coming up in the minors together.

His father was a
professional player?

Oh, yeah.

He had all the physical
skills of a big leaguer,

but he put so much pressure

on himself to succeed
that he b*rned himself out

before he ever got a sh*t.

Now he's doing it to his kid.

Heads up, McCloud!

Hey, whoa, whoa!

- You okay, Ben?
- Hey, Ben, Ben...

Well, there doesn't seem
to be any bone damage.

Where's that idiot coach?

I got something to say to him.

It's okay. I'm fine.

How's he doing?

Felix.

You almost cost us a career!

What are you thinking?
Letting your best pitcher

run through drills where
he can get plunked?

How many times I
got to tell you, Norm?

Stay out of the locker room.

Players and staff only.

They won't treat
your old man like that

when you make it
to the Show, son.

Just got a call from the
front office in Atlanta.

Ramirez got shelled again today.

They're thinking of
making a change.

- So?
- So...

the guy they're thinking
of bringing up... is you.

Keep icing his arm, Monica.

Yes.

Hey, do me a favor, will you?

Don't worry, I
won't tell your dad.

Let's take care of this arm.

Yeah. It's always about the arm.

Well, that is where
the ball hit you.

I'm sorry.

I shouldn't be taking my
frustrations out on you.

And who should you
be taking them out on?

I don't know.

Well, I got to get out of here.

There's something
I got to go do.

Not without me.

I have the ice.

♪♪

Mr. McCloud. Hi.

My name's Andrew. I, uh...

I understand you're an expert
on repairing old baseball mitts.

Well... It needs some work.

How old is this thing anyway?

Oh, it's definitely
from another time.

So...

I understand that you're
Candy McCloud's son.

Sorry. Can't fix it.

It's too far gone.

You know, there are a
lot of things in this world

that people throw away
because they think...

it's just too late to fix them.

Maybe so.

But some things just
aren't worth fixing.

Thank you for your time.

Tess says, to be a good
angel, I need to absorb

as much human
experience as I can.

Was that a nod?

It was.

We're communicating
already, and it's just my first day.

You're doing so much
for my confidence.

I really appreciate it.

Hello. You have visitors.

Hi. How's it going?

I'm Ben McCloud,
Candy's grandson.

Hello, Ben. It's very
nice to meet you.

I'm Gloria. I'm
an... A volunteer?

Yes. Volunteer.

I sit and talk to people for
absolutely no compensation.

Okay.

Hi, Grandpa. It's me, Ben.

This is my friend, Monica.

Hello, Mr. McCloud.

Wow, Grandpa.

Was that a nod?

Yes.

He's never done that before.

He has a wonderful
light in his eyes.

What was he like
before the stroke?

I don't know.

I only found out he was
here a couple years ago.

Came every week to visit him,

but he never
responds to anything.

Didn't your father
know he was here?

My dad stopped speaking
to him before I was born.

He'd k*ll me if he
knew I was here.

I guess Grandpa used to
tell a bunch of wild stories,

and my dad just got
tired of hearing them.

Welcome to the final
game of this 1960 season.

That's Candy McCloud
down there at home plate.

The Clown King of
baseball since 1947.

Let's give him a big
round of applause.

- Hey, look at that spook.
- Yeah.

The spook's getting spooked.

Hey, don't talk about
my daddy like that.

You don't even know him.

He used to be a real
pitcher for the n*gro leagues.

What did he pitch, watermelons?

Hey, if your daddy's
the Candy Man,

what's that make
you... A licorice stick?

- Come on, now. Kids!
- Hey, hold on, now.

- Candy, where you going?
- What is going on here?

Come on, boys, break it up.

Cut that out.

Norm, how many
times I have to tell you?

You want to fight,
do it on the field.

But they were making fun of you.

I told them you played
in the n*gro leagues,

but they didn't believe me.

I didn't just play, son.

I was one of the best.

I could have been
the first n*gro pitcher

in the major league,

but I blew out my arm
striking out Babe Ruth.

I pitched a perfect
game that day.

Candy, what am I paying you for?

Get out here.

You tell those boys.

You tell them your
daddy was a star.

Get over here, Candy.

I'm coming.

Yeah, right.

A colored guy
striking out Babe Ruth?

Like that could ever happen.

I think I would've
heard about it.

Yeah, you and the
whole world would've, pal.

What kind of father tells his
boy a phony story like that?

A clown.

You're a liar.

You never pitched
a perfect game.

You're just a dumb clown.

Oh, you have a wonderful story

to tell, Mr. McCloud,

and it needs to be heard.

Tell us, what was it like
when you were a pitcher?

How'd you know about that?

It's... sort of a gift.

I'll say.

Grandpa used to brag to
Dad about being a pitcher.

He once pitched a perfect game.

Perfect?

It means no hits, no runs,
no errors and no one on base.

I guess he used to pitch
back in the n*gro leagues

back in the '305 for a
while, and then he quit,

became a baseball clown.

You know, if you were ever
going to say anything again...

now would be the time.

There are angels
everywhere, Mr. McCloud,

and we're here to tell you

that the time is now.

Perfect... game.

That's amazing.

I'm listening, Grandpa.

Go ahead. What
are you trying to say?

It's all right, Mr. McCloud.

That's enough for today.

So you put the ball in play.

And then he said, "Perfect
game," loud and clear.

- We heard it, didn't we?
- Yes.

Was there really a
perfect game, Tess?

And did Candy
really hurt his arm

striking out Babe Ruth?

You got to admit, it does
sound kind of like a wild story.

Yes, it does, but the truth is,

that's not exactly
what happened.

I was afraid of that.

There are a lot of
myths in baseball,

but I'm telling you, the
truth is more interesting.

So what I saw in
Candy's mind wasn't true?

I didn't say that.

That's the danger of this new
gift that you have, Miss Wings.

When you see something
in someone's heart

or in someone's mind, that's
not always the whole story.

You have to go deeper.

Yeah, but first,
you better stop Ben,

or he's going to
tire himself out

before his big game.

It's time for you to get
back to work, too, Gloria.

I just wish there was some way

I could help
Candy tell his story.

Here.

Take these.

It might help you.

Hello, Candy.

I have a surprise for you.

I brought some of
your old friends with me.

Satchel Paige.

Some say he was the
best baseball player ever.

Josh Gibson.

No one could hit a
ball as far as he could.

Oh, Cool Papa Bell.

I don't know anything about
him, but I love his name.

Do you remember
any of these people?

Babe.

Babe? Well, thank you.

I know some humans consider
that to be a compliment,

so "babe" right back at you.

I don't... I-I don't understand.

What? The flowers?

This trunk?

"McCloud headed for majors?"

"Atlanta expected to
call up top prospect."

Hmm, don't believe
everything you read, Monica.

Well, you can
believe it this time.

They're sending
someone down from Atlanta

to see the game today.

Who?

Didn't say. Just
said their best scout.

This is it, kid.

Good luck.

Aren't you going to see your
grandfather before you suit up?

I don't know.

I think maybe I
should just stay here

and warm up a little bit longer.

But don't you always see
him on days you pitch?

This doesn't seem
like a good day

to break a tradition, does it?

Hey, hey!

Hey. Where is he?

He had something
important he needed to do.

More important than the
biggest game of his life?

And he tells you, not me.

Where is he, lady?

Well, this is it, Grandpa.

The day that changes
my life forever.

I just don't know if it's
gonna be better... or worse.

Ah, it's getting late. I
got to get to the park.

Oh, hello.

I'm so glad you're here.

I-I want to show you something.

Oh, I'm sorry, but I
don't have time right now.

This will only take a minute.

Did you know this was here?

Grandpa, what's this?

Oh, this must be
his old clown stuff.

Oh, wow.

Is this the team you played for?

The Montgomery Marquees?

Look what it says.

- Is this what I think it is?
- Ben.

Monica.

I'm sorry. You were very
late, and your father...

So, this is where you sneak
off to before your games.

Dad, don't be mad.

Don't you want to say hi?

He can't speak, but
he can understand you.

How you doing, Pop?

- Babe.
- Babe.

My God, he never gives up.

Look what I found in his trunk.

"Perfect game.

October 24, 1934."

Perfect game.

You pathetic old man.

After all this time,
you're still telling

that same old lie
with the phony ball.

Well, I'm still not buying
it, and neither is my son.

Come on, Ben.

You got a real game to pitch.

But, Dad, what if it's true?

What if he really did
pitch a perfect game?

It's a lie, son.

He's always been full of them.

And I still can't believe

you've been seeing
him behind my back.

Dad, he's family.

No. We're family.

You and me.

Mr. McCloud, Ben
needs to get suited up.

You do your job,
Monica, and I'll do mine.

Look, I've been
preparing Ben for this day

ever since he was a kid.

He's got the will,
he's got the drive,

he's got the arm, and I...

got the champagne on hold
and waiting after you win.

The first McCloud to
make it to the majors.

That's a lot of pressure,
don't you think?

Welcome to baseball.

Ben.

Why today, Monica?

Why'd you have to
take my dad there today?

Tell you what.

You want to help me out?

Yes, I do.

Pray for rain.

There are better
things to pray for.

Yeah.

A perfect game like the
one my grandpa pitched.

Or didn't pitch.

They just want to
see you pitch, Ben.

No one expects a perfect game.

Ben.

Say hello to Mr. Aaron.

Hank Aaron?

They sent Henry Aaron?

I volunteered.

I've heard so much
about that arm.

Hank, this is Ben McCloud.

And our trainer, Monica.

- It's an honor to meet you, sir.
- Nice meeting you.

- Hope I don't let you down, sir.
- I'm sure you won't.

I'm looking forward
to seeing you pitch.

Hank. Hank Aaron.

Oh, man.

Uh, Norm McCloud.
I-I'm Ben's father.

Nice meeting you, Norm.

Wow, man, I'm shaking hands

with the all-time home run king.

First, you broke out
the n*gro league,

then you broke
Babe Ruth's record.

Dad, please.

Mr. Aaron...

you're looking at the
best arm in baseball.

One day, Ben's
gonna be right there

with you in the Hall of Fame.

Dad, you're embarrassing me.

What do you mean, son?

You're always embarrassing me.

Why don't you just
leave me alone?

Nothing worse than

being embarrassed by your pop.

Believe me, I know.

ANNOUNCER: Now
batting, Carl Yelm.

Thou shall not fail.
Thou shall not fail.

Strike one!

Ben's curveball looks good.

Strike two!

McCloud!

Come on, Ben.

Come on.

Strike three!

Thou shall not fail.

Come on.

Strike!

Norm is missing
quite a game, huh?

It's a perfect
game so far, right?

It's about to get a
whole lot less perfect.

Ben.

Time.

Hey, I want to talk to you.

Ben!

I'm your father. Did you forget?

Security.

I want him out of here now.

I got something to say to you.

I taught you everything

you know about pitching.

Dad, how could you do this?

You think I'm a joke?

Look, I'm the
reason you're here.

Come on, Norm.

Get your hands off me!

You ain't nothing without me.

- Come on.
- I thought we was a team.

I guess I was wrong, huh?

Don't you let him get to you.

You're doing great.

Keep going.

I don't know, Felix.

I don't think I... Don't think.

Just throw.

Now, you got this guy's number.

He can't touch you.

Neither can your father.

Ladies and gentlemen...

I'm the one that put you there.

- Get out of there!
- Get out! Get out of there!

Watch your step.

Don't think.

Just throw.

Don't think.

Throw.

Thou shall not fail.
Thou shall not fail.

Norman McCloud?

Who's there?

It's too bad the liquor
makes you see double...

because one of me is
about all you can handle.

What's going on?

Who are you?

I am Tess, and
what's going on is,

you've turned your back
on the most important thing

in your life: your son.

Just like you did
with your father

and this baseball.

That ball?

That ball doesn't
prove a damn thing.

Yes, it does,

and you watch
your mouth, mister.

You're speaking to an angel.

Ba||.

Felix, can you call a time-out?

- Time!
- Time!

I don't know what's wrong.

My arm's just not doing it.

Your arm is not
the problem, Ben.

Take a deep breath.

And tie your shoe.

Ben.

What happened?

Welcome to October 24, 1934.

All right, toss that ball.

What's going on?

Where are we?

In your father's past.

That's impossible.

Nothing is impossible.

I am an angel.

God sent me to bring you here.

I'm still drunk.

This isn't happening.

Well, I'm not drunk,

and believe me,
this is happening.

Oh, my God.

What are we supposed to do?

Just watch the game.

Perfect game.

No.

No, no, th-th...
this is a dream.

There was no perfect game.

And I don't care what you say.

My dad did not wreck his
arm striking out Babe Ruth.

Well, he did and he didn't.

Anger runs in your
family, Norman,

and the same McCloud anger
that made you leave home

made your father do something

that changed his life
and your life forever.

And that's why,
after all these years,

you've only heard
part of the truth.

There he is.

There's your father.

That's my daddy?

He looks so young.

Hey, Candy, get over here.

It's The Jack Benny Show.

I got a black tie.

Oh, that's too bad.

No, that's good.

It was laying in the road,

and it's better than
the one we had on.

Hey...

It's bad enough when
white folk laugh at us.

sh**t.

Don't pay no attention to me.

I'm just tired.

We all tired, you know?

Tired of getting our
bones jounced all night long

on dirt roads, tired of getting
doors slammed in our faces,

fleabag hotels that
won't even rent us rooms,

and hash joints that won't
serve us the table scraps.

That's right. That's right.

When we finally do
find a place with a bed,

we get bedbugs
as big as baseballs.

Candy's better than the radio

anyway, y'all.

My, my, my.

What a beautiful day
for a baseball game.

- Wow.
- The game's been canceled,

ma'am, on account the
other team didn't show.

Probably got caught
in that big storm

we heard about on the radio.

But I came a long way to
see you pitch, Mr. McCloud.

Well, it looks like it won't
happen today, ma'am.

Well, the day's not over yet.

Don't know if it matters
much to me anymore.

I pitched four games
yesterday, 25 last week.

It all adds up to nothing.

Who says it adds up to nothing?

I don't mean no
disrespect, ma'am, but I do.

Because I'm as good
as any white player,

and I'll never get a
chance to prove it.

So you're just going to quit?

No.

I love baseball,
but I'm just starting

to lose faith that
things will ever change.

Oh, baby, I can help
you get your faith back,

but you got to stay
here and play today.

But how? You...

ANNOUNCER: And in sports news,

the major-league All-Stars

play an exhibition game
tomorrow at Comiskey Park.

Their bus, containing
baseball's finest,

is en route to Chicago
after making stops

in Cleveland, Kokomo

and Fort Wayne, Indiana.

The 1934 All-Stars.

Now, that was an
incredible team.

That's right.

They were awesome.

And they were white.

Not even an angel
could've gotten them

to play a black team.

You don't know Tess.

Come on, Charlie.

What's the holdup?

The holdup is this engine

is hotter than a
two-dollar p*stol.

It takes time to cool down,
especially in all this heat.

Look, I got a busload
of ballplayers here.

They're hungry, thirsty,

and getting more
ornery by the minute.

Peanuts! Popcorn!

Ice-cold soda pop!

Oh, lady, you are the
answer to my prayers.

I'll take everything you got.

Oh, I'm sorry, it's
just for players.

Well, hey, I-I got a bunch
of hungry players right here.

Well, why didn't you
say so in the first place?

We've been waiting on you.

"We"? Who's "we"?

The Montgomery Marquees.

Hey, Bill! We gonna
starve to death,

- or what?!
- Hold your horses!

Look, lady, I can't ask my
men to play a colored team.

They're the American All-Stars.

Well, the Montgomery
Marquees are Americans, too.

Hey, you'll have to
convince them, not me.

Fine.

♪ 0 say can you see ♪

♪ By the dawn's early light ♪

♪ What so proudly we hailed ♪

♪ At the twilight's
last gleaming ♪

♪ Whose broad stripes ♪

♪ And bright stars ♪

♪ Through the perilous fight ♪

♪ O'er the ramparts we watched ♪

♪ Were so gallantly streaming? ♪

♪ And the rockets' red glare ♪

♪ The bombs bursting in air ♪

♪ Gave proof through the night ♪

♪ That our flag
was still there ♪

♪ 0 say does that
star-Spangled ♪

♪ Banner yet wave ♪

♪ O'er the land ♪

♪ Of the free ♪

♪ And the home ♪

♪ Of the ♪

♪ Brave? ♪

All right.

Gentlemen, play ball!

Let's go.

So, Tess got the
All-Stars to agree to play.

It was a really close game.

At the top of the ninth,

the Montgomery Marquees
were ahead, one to nothing,

and the All-Stars couldn't
get a hit off of Candy.

They were getting
really nervous.

That's when they
went to their bench,

or in this case, the bus.

- The bus?
- Mm-hmm.

Their best player
was still asleep

after a night on the town,

and he wasn't the kind of
man who liked to be disturbed.

Get out of here!
Don't wake me up!

It's all right, Jidge.

We... we don't mind waiting.

Uh, he's... he's coming.

Jidge is on his way.

Jidge'? Wh-What's a Jidge?

That's what the
Yankees call Babe Ruth.

♪♪

No runs... no hits, no walks?

What's the matter with you bums?

Hey, my man!

Come on.

Let's see what you got, kid.

Burn it in there, Candy!

Candy.

What kind of name is Candy

- for a baseball pl...
- Strike one!

Whoo, that's the way!

That's the way, baby!

Huh!

Not bad for a busher,

but anybody can
throw one good pitch.

Strike two!

- Wow!
- Get the bat

off your shoulder,
Babe! Come on!

Do it, Candy! Do it, baby!

You know who I am, right?

Yes, sir, Mr. Ruth.

And you're about
to find out who I am.

♪♪

Strike three! You're out!

♪♪

♪♪

Candy!

Hey, kid.

Your name's Candy?

Candy McCloud, sir.

So my father
wasn't just a clown?

- Far from it.
- Then why did he say

he blew out his arm that day?

He did blow out
his arm that day.

He just didn't do it
striking out Babe Ruth.

And he was ashamed
of the way it did happen.

Excuse me, sir, could you
ask Mr. Ruth to sign my ball?

All I need is a signature.

You want proof, huh?

Proof of what?

Nothing happened here today.

Do you think that
anyone in the US. of A.

Wants to believe a colored
man could ever b*at the Babe?

I don't think so, boy.

Candy, what's going on?

So my father

blew out his arm
because he was angry?

Yes.

Does that remind you of
anybody else you know?

Candy made a decision that day

that he wasn't
going to let anger

ruin his life and
leave him bitter.

That's why he became a clown.

If he couldn't play
baseball anymore,

at least he could
still bring people joy.

That's what he
wanted for you, Norm.

But what did you do?

I ran away because I was angry.

Because you were angry
and embarrassed and...

and because you were too
young to understand the sacrifices

that your father had made
to give you a better life,

a better dream to dream.

Gloria?

Guess what.

You're an angel, too, huh?

Write this down, baby.

Norman... listen to me.

God gives his children gifts

because he loves them.

He gave you something that
angels don't have... a family...

heritage... legacy...

someone to be proud of

and someone else
to pass that pride onto.

Now, maybe what Monica said
is right... you were just too young.

But you're too old to let
that attitude go on any longer.

Do you have any idea
about your heritage?

No.

Well, let me tell you.

Your father played
for the n*gro leagues

and was a baseball clown.

His father was a doorman.

His father was a sharecropper.

His father was a sl*ve.

You come from
along line of people

who have done
everything they could

to make life better for
those that came after.

Just like you're
doing all you can

to make a better life for Ben.

But what you did not do was
honor those who went on before.

They embarrassed you...
and you let that embarrassment

turn into anger.

How can Ben honor you...

when you can't honor

the grandfather that he loves?

Do you understand
what I'm saying to you?

Yes, ma'am.

Good.

Then what are you
going to do about it?

Pop... you really did
pitch a perfect game,

and you struck out
Babe Ruth doing it.

That's got to be a great
memory for you, Pop.

Pop... I'm sorry.

I'm so sorry.

I'm gonna make it up to you,
no matter what it takes, okay?

That goes for you, too, son.

Son, I'm proud of you.

I love you.

I don't care whether
you ever pitch again.

Sorry, Dad.

♪♪

Ben?

Ben, do you want to continue?

Attaboy, son! Show
'em what you got!

Let's play ball.

Play ball!

McCloud! McCloud!

McCloud! McCloud! McCloud!

McCloud! McCloud!
McCloud! McCloud!

McCloud!

McCloud! McCloud! McCloud!

McCloud! McCloud!
McCloud! McCloud!

McCloud! McCloud! McCloud!

McCloud! McCloud!
McCloud! McCloud!

McCloud! McCloud! McCloud!

Strike one!

That's what I call
a perfect game.

No hits, no runs.

- And plenty of family.
- Hey, hey, hey!

Strike two!

♪♪

Strike three! You're out!