04x05 - Shawn Gets the Yips

[bunniefuu]

All right, Shawn,

now, the most important thing
about playing second base

is the footwork.

- You ready?
- I was born ready, dad.

Actually, you were born breech, son.
Took hours to get you out.

Ball.

But I appreciate the enthusiasm.

All right, let's give it a try.
Here we go. Get those feet going.

Come on, get low.

Attaboy.

That's it.

- That was great.
- I just did what you said.

That was perfect, son.

Hit me another one{\, dad}.

You got it.

This time we're gonna try
a few new things.

Stay low, just like you did.
That was good.

This time take your left foot,
you're gonna point it toward the bag.

Keep your right foot firmly planted
in the ground.

You're gonna aim for the lower part of
the first baseman's glove

while calibrating the number of steps
before the runner gets there. Got it?

I think so.

All right, here we go.

Get low.

Big win today.

Big win.

Big win for the team.

Isn't that right, buzz?

Well played, all of you.

Let us not forget
that our valiant opponents

also played a heck of a ballgame.

Respect, haircut hut.

Cheers!

I don't know
why you're giving that victory speech.

- You almost cost us the game today.
- What{\ are you talking about}? I had five hits.

You also overthrew first base
five times.

All right, look. I know
you're all thinking it, so here it goes.

I am suffering from a mental block.
It goes all the way back to my youth.

It's{\ very} common
amongst highly skilled athletes

and international men of leisure.

- They call it the "yips".
- They should call it the "sucks".

Wait, wasn't there that guy...
What's his name?

Yes. Former Yankee second baseman
Chuck Knoblauch.

All of a sudden...

he committed an unprecedented number
of throwing errors,

one of which sailed...

into the stands and hit
Keith Olbermann's mother in the face.

- That's awful.
- Don't worry, Jules, I'm getting help.

I just recently started
seeing a sports psychologist,

and I'm happy to report that I'm already
seeing marked improvement.

- Five errors is an improvement?
- Could have been ten.

- Here you go, sir.
- Thank you.

Where's my food?

Excuse me,

I still haven't gotten
my pizza chili cheese fries...

Also known as the Shawn Spencer.
Not that you'd recognize them as such,

seeing as how this establishment
refuses to call them that,

even though I order them
six times a week.

I brought you the fries, sir.

If you'd brought them to me,
I think I'd know

'cause I'd be experiencing
both euphoria

and a burning sensation
in the neighborhood of my colon.

- Do you want to speak to my manager?
- I don't want to, I demand to, Jenny.

We will discuss
both the name of the dish

and the method in which it is expedited.
This guy behind...

Excuse me, I'm afraid we have...

Can I help you with anything?

Hold that thought.

Sorry.

Lassie, we may have
a real sort of serious problem.

Guys, you shouldn't have.

Come on.
You didn't think we'd forget.

Upgrade that to an emergency.

That guy by the door has a g*n.

We need to make a plan. There's
a Louisville slugger on the wall.

I'm gonna cr*ck the glass, use it.
Some of us aren't packing.

Move.

Police!

Freeze, douche bag!

What have we got?

What we've got

is a white male,
medium build, about 5'10".

Attempted armed robbery.

A few sh*ts exchanged
between the perp and myself

before he escaped out
these doors here.

Looks like more than a few.

I was rounding.

O'Hara, expand the perimeter search.
I want this bastard found.

Thank you, chief.
I'll take it from here.

All right, people,

we all went through
a terrible ordeal today.

Not only were we almost k*lled,
chief,

- I never got my pizza{\*chili cheese fries}.
- But setting that aside for a second...

Mr. Spencer, unless you have something
that will help this investigation,

I suggest you shut the hell up.

I think I do have something, chief.

I'm getting some serious voodoo

that the hooded man didn't come{\ in here}
to rob the restaurant.

Then what was he doing?

He wanted to k*ll someone.

Wanted to k*ll someone?
Who?

One of us.

Psych 405
"Shawn Has the Yips"

Timing: Psych Team
www.sous-titres.eu

I don't have time for this.

Fact: the hooded guy
came into the restaurant

to k*ll someone at our table.

Fact: he failed,
which means he'll probably try again.

{\pos(192,220)}Fact: if I can figure out
who he was targeting,

{\pos(192,220)}it'll probably give us insight
as to the hooded man's identity.

{\pos(192,220)}Those aren't facts.
At best they're a s*ab in the dark.

A s*ab in the dark?

Fact: that's a pretty good name
for a horror flick.

Remind me to include it
in this {\year's holiday }letter to Wes Craven.

I don't know why{\ you write those..}.
He never reciprocates.

Maybe {\he isn't reciprocating }against his will.

That doesn't make any sense, Shawn.

{\pos(192,200)}- {\Here are }The statements from everyone{\ that was in the bar}.
- Great. I'll look at them.

Your hypothesis is crap. Who walks
into a known cop bar to k*ll a cop?

- It makes no sense.
- Fact.

You say that word again,
I'll punch you in the face.

Truth: there was only $42
in the cash register.

He's right. The manager
verifies it in his statement.

{\pos(192,220)}Who walks in and tries to knock off

a known cop bar for $42?
That doesn't make any sense.

{\pos(192,220)}He's a lowlife whacked out on junk.
I've seen it many, many times.

{\pos(192,220)}- Dad.
- Thank god you're okay.

{\pos(192,220)}I'm fine. What's up?

I saw the sh**ting on TV.
I've been trying to call you{\r cell phone}.

It's been going to voice mail.

I've been worried to death.

I forgot to turn on my phone.

{\pos(192,220)}Let me ask you something. What{\ was the very first thing you} did you
do right after the sh**ting?

I called my folks
to tell them I was okay.

- And what was the first thing he did?
- He ate a banana.

- You ate a banana?
- I sure did. You know why?

Because it makes me think of you,
'cause you're my big ol' papa monkey.

{\pos(192,220)}I need to see everyone
who was present at the sh**ting.

That's us. Gotta go.
Thanks for coming by, dad.

{\pos(192,210)}- Gus, am I overreacting?
- No.

{\pos(192,200)}We're not done here, Shawn.

{\pos(192,220)}Since you were involved
in an armed robbery attempt

and subsequent sh**ting,

{\pos(192,220)}per department policy,
Dr. Erlich is here to offer counseling

{\pos(192,220)}to anyone who wants it.

{\pos(192,220)}If no one needs
to speak with Dr. Erlich...

{\pos(192,220)}Okay, let's get back to work.

Excuse me.

{\pos(192,220)}I didn't want to show weakness
in front of the rest of the group,

{\pos(192,220)}but I could use a little counseling{\, to be honest}.

{\pos(192,220)}There's no shame in asking for help.

{\pos(192,220)}- You{\ and Dr. Erlich} can use the conference room.
- Right.

{\pos(192,220)}Do I have to use
the department's psychologist?

{\pos(192,220)}- Not technically.
- 'Cause I'd like to call in my own guy.

- This is a sports psychologist.
- Yes, I know.

Dr. Manny is fantastic,
and he's helping me with the yips.

I'm not using public funds
to help you

overcome your mental block
of overthrowing first base.

Would it help
if I told you I'm also pee-shy?

Chief?

CSI found these
in the alley behind the sports bar.

Room 16.

The downtowner motel.

This matches
the sh**t's sweatshirt.

Which he probably ripped while escaping,
and the key fell out.

{\pos(192,200)}There's a damn good chance
that he's at this location.

{\pos(192,200)}- I know this place. Let's go.
- I'll drive.

{\pos(192,200)}No need. I finally got my car back
from the shop. It's perfect time.

{\pos(192,220)}I am gonna ask you to sit
on a towel, though. No offense.

Why would I be offended by that?

I don't know what we're gonna find here.
The sh**t's back at the motel.

Gus, don't be the ribs
that flip over Fred Flintstone's car.

I know you're not completely sold
on my hit man theory,

but I need you
to suspend your disbelief

and hop on board
the streetcar named Shawnsire.

{\Dude, }You know how that metaphor
makes me uncomfortable.

- I knew it.
- What?

I knew there was something about that
guy that didn't scream "junky thief."

He was wearing a $5,000 watch.

And I know his socks were 80 bucks

'cause I just ordered some
with your Nordstrom's card.

{\How many times have }I told you to stay out of my wallet{\?}.

Like you're not gonna be happy
when you get those points.

- I got it.
- You know who the hit man was after?

No, I know what happened
to my pizza chili cheese fries.

That dumpy catcher
from the haircut hut got them.

Now there's a purple-haired
lesbian running around

with dyspepsia that should be mine.

I'll be in the car.

- Gus, freeze!
- What?

Excuse me.

Where would I find the monitor
that goes with that surveillance camera?

Under the hostess stand. But the cops
already took the tape from the day.

I'm not interested in the tape.

Can I move now?

Exactly two steps to your right.

That guy's a lot smarter
than Lassie gave him credit for.

Check it out.

What?

He knew exactly where to stand

so that surveillance camera
wouldn't pick him up.

Why would someone so intelligent
carelessly drop their motel room key?

They wouldn't...

Unless...

It was a dummy lead.

Juliet confirmed it.
The sh**t wasn't at the motel.

Lassiter still thinks
this guy's a junky thief,

so he's combing the area
in case the perp saw them and took off.

Yeah, I figured I'd need more
to convince Lassie.

That's why I've completely
restaged the crime scene

with stand-ins
where each of us were sitting.

This way I can figure out
who the sh**t was targeting.

Let me guess.
I'm the pepper, you're the salt.

Juliet's the sugar,
Lassiter's the lemon,

McNab's the cherry...

- Mashed potatoes? Really?
- This is actually kind of fun.

- Did you {\want to }scoop out the last lesbian?
- Just tell me what you got.

All right, we know that the sh**t
held his position at the door

- for exactly 26 seconds.
- And we know this how?

Because that's how long
it takes to sing happy birthday.

I got the singing, Shawn.

Upgrade that to an emergency.

I know who he was after.

- {\pub}Seriously, how's Lassie?
- Not good.

{\pos(192,230)}- Oh, man.
- Yeah, I've never seen him this bad.

This son of a bitch
destroyed my car.

Calm down, Carlton.
At least you're okay.

{\pos(192,230)}- You {\really }should count your blessings.
- Shawn's call kept you from being hit.

Jules, it's not important
that it was me that saved Lassie's life,

or that I was right, or that he should
have listened to me from the start

because I was right.
The important thing

{\pos(192,230)}is that you're unharmed, and that it was
because of me and I was right.

{\pos(192,230)}Do you{\ have any idea} know how much
{\they're gonna charge }the city gonna pay to fix this?

{\pos(192,230)}Are you asking Shawn the psychic,

{\pos(192,230)}or Shawn the guy who worked
for a couple afternoons at a Meineke?

Do you have any idea
who'd want to sh**t you?

A lot of people want to k*ll me.
I take great pride in that.

Spencer, are you getting any vibrations
on who that might be?

Chief, the psychic universe
is echoing Lassie's sentiments.

He has so many enemies,
it literally could have been anyone.

- His landlord. His mailman.
- His ex-wife. Bigfoot.

Okay, we'll start with someone
that Lassiter busted.

Okay, but that only eliminates Bigfoot.
By the way,

little-known fact: bigfoot...
He only wore a size ten.

I need ballistics
on the sh**t's g*n and details

on its vantage point
when he fired on Lassiter.

All right, since I'm point on this,
you pull all my old case files,

start going over them.
I'm hitting the streets.

You're staying put.

No, I can't have my lead detective
on the street with a target on him.

Okay, so I'll organize things
from here.

I also can't have
any appearance of bias

or a conflict of interest
in this investigation.

O'Hara, you're taking over as point.

I'll assign someone the field work,
you go over the old cases.

Spencer, I need you to get
any readings you can from the evidence.

And I want you kept
in this room under 24-hour guard.

What?

Sorry about this, partner.

The frozen yogurt guy's out front.

Did you want to go get one?

Wait, you can't.

These cases offer the most promise.

In each of them the perp threatened
physical harm against Lassiter{\ in public}.

- All right, let's dig in.
- Are you looking at Palermo?

- Don't forget about Palermo.
- We won't.

- How'bout Fletcher?
- Him too.

Hold that up a little higher
so I can see it.

This isn't gonna work.

What?

Much better.

Absolutely.

We're just missing one thing.

Yeah, pizza.

I was going to say an immersion
therapy t*nk and hallucinogens,

- but I could go for a slice.
- Yeah, I'm hungry.

I'll call Luigi's. They deliver.

They deliver hallucinogens?
That doesn't seem legal, does it?

Where's the cordless phone?

- Why{\ are you looking at} me?
- You always lose it.

No, I don't lose it.

I place it somewhere
that later eludes me.

That's the same thing{\ as losing it}.

Maybe to those of us
without the nuance chromosome.

What?

Maybe instead of arguing about it,
we should actually look for it.

Whose elliptical is this?

Why don't you take a look at our bodies
and judge for yourself.

Gus, when did you get it?

Why don't you take
a look at 'em in a month,

when I'm ripped to the bone,
have an eight-pack.

Possibly nine. Tall boys.
You can play my abs like a harp.

He never uses it.

I just joined a gym, and I got
into this incredible fitness regimen.

It's all about self-motivation.

If you want me to teach you some
of the tricks my trainer taught me...

No thanks. I'm not really into the whole
motivational Tony Robbins thing...

I prefer his brother Baskin.

Hello, Mrs. Garcia.

Is your husband available?

I see.

Would you please give him
a message for me?

This is detective Carlton Lassiter.

Let that fat bastard know

that I know that he's the one
trying to k*ll me,

and if he wants to tangle, baby,
my dance card is wide open!

I see.

I am very sorry
for your loss, ma'am.

I actually had an uncle with coronary
disease, so I understand...

I can't find that phone anywhere.

I guess we're having doritos
for dinner.

You say that like it's a bad thing.

{\Drug lord released
Petrovich Ivan}

Vibrations piercing through
from the other side.

Person of interest, possible sh**t,
just released from prison.

Ivan...

Petrovich.

I was just reading that guy's file.

He's some sort of drug lord
or something.

Where is it?

Here it is.

- That's weird.
- What?

Our names are listed on the case,
but {\Shawn and I}we didn't work on it.

And yet we got paid for it.{\ Isn't that great?}

- I was never paid for it.
- Maybe we didn't{\ get paid for it}.

- Did you or did you not get paid?
- I don't know, Jules.

I'd have to check some files,
crunch some numbers, place some calls.

- You took money{\ for a case that}, but you did{\n't do} nothing?
- I answered the phone,

and it was the chief,
which technically makes me a consultant.

Was it a misdial? Maybe.
Why are we splitting hairs?

Ivan Petrovich isn't just a{\ny kind of} drug lord.
He's the worst kind.

He targets high school kids.
Remember that quarterback that od'd?

- It was in the newspaper.
- I only read the London financial times

and dog fancy.

Oh, boy.

I officially feel guilty.

I'll return the $500, plus interest.

I'll apologize to the family and...

I'll do the thing in the box
with the guy in the... thing.

Confession?

I need to get back to the station
and tell Vick about Petrovich.

Enjoy your doritos.

That's a bummer.

Should we start trying
to track this guy down?

The sooner we do, the sooner Lassie
isn't sequestered at the station.

It could{\ probably} wait till tomorrow.

I remember Petrovich.

He's the worst kind of scum
that there is.

All right,
I'm putting an APB out on him.

Why is my speakerphone on?

Chief, I demand to be the one
to bring in Petrovich.

He was listening in
on our conversation?

Chief, my partner has the right to know
who tried to k*ll him.

All right, this one is personal.
Petrovich is a monster.

That one family whose lives he destroyed
when their son od'd on his poison...

During his trial, he turned around
and winked at them.

- I remember as well as you do.
- And all I was able to get him on

is a weapons charge. Now, that has
eaten me up for three years.

That's not your fault.

You got him on what you could,
and we've all been there.

Look, I have to think
about your safety.

This man is hell-bent on revenge,

and he's targeting the one officer
who put him away.

I didn't work that case alone.

McNab was there
when I busted petrovich.

- Where's McNab?
- He's off duty.

I'll run the search on Petrovich.
O'Hara, give McNab a call,

just to make sure that he's okay.
Better yet, go by his place.

I'm sorry. Officers, please.

This is ridiculous.

Damn it!

Come on, McNab.

Go around back.

Thank God.

I was just in the shower.
What's up?

Ivan Petrovich
tried to k*ll Lassiter,

{\and we know }you were in on his arrest,
{\and }he's threatened you too.

{\Petrovich...}That guy's the devil.

For your safety,
Beckett{\ here} is gonna stay with you.

I'm gonna check back
in a little while, okay?

- Nice robe.
- Thanks.

{\Hey, Beckett, }I'm just gonna grab my mail.

Go on in.
I'll make us some eggs.

- How bad is he?
- He's stable.

Looks like he's gonna be fine.

Luckily, it was a crude device.

It was rigged to go off the second
the mailbox key was turned.

The blast blew him into the pool
and probably saved his life.

Hell.

- This is Burton Guster.
- Gus, thank God you're all right!

Juliet?

Looks like Petrovich may be targeting
everyone who was on the case,

which includes you{\ two}.

But...
we didn't actually work on the case.

{\I don't know how, but }Somehow
Petrovich may have seen the file.

Have you talked to Shawn?

What are you doing?

"If your heart rate
drops below 150, you die"?

The b*mb squad is on its way.

How did you figure
this {\thing }was booby-trapped?

I saw...

{\pos(192,230)}that Petrovich went after McNab
on the local news.

I put it all together.

{\pos(192,230)}I can't believe
we're being targeted for a case

that we never worked on.

- At least we got paid for it.
- Really?

I'm starring
in the elliptical version of Speed,

and you're guilting me{\ over money}?

{\Just for the record, }It's more like Lethal w*apon 2.

{\The one }Where Danny Glover found
the b*mb attached to his toilet.

God, I would k*ll
to be on a toilet right now.

- I'm not gonna die on this thing{\, am i}?
- Don't think like that, Shawn.

Whatever happens,
I'll be right here.

Where the heck are they?

- I'm really tired.
- Wait, wait. No, no.

Just hang in there, Shawn.
They'll be here any second now.

Look, I just...

I just gotta say...

that...

I know.

I got $800 for the Petrovich case.

Not $500.

I forgive you.

Shawn, are you all right?
Where's the b*mb?

- {\It's }Down there.
- Why are you exercising?

If his heart rate
drops below 150, he's toast.

My God, I wrote this note.

- What?
- I left it for Shawn as a motivator.

I do the same thing{\before each workout}.
It's a trick my trainer taught me.

What kind of sick trainer
have you been working with?

Wait a second,
so what is the beeping, blinking thing?

We're idiots.

Will you...
Please make it stop.

Thank God.

Go.

- Go back.
- All right.

Watch my back.

Enough!

If Petrovich knew you were listed{\ on the report},
he would've already made a move.

Now, man up and let's go.

- We're cool.
- We're men.

Get down!

Everybody's good?

Everybody's good.

It's McNab.
I didn't know he was out {\of the hospital }yet.

Buzz, buddy!

Hey, guys.

That b*mb did a number
on your eyebrow.

- Blew it clean off.
- Amazing. Just the brow.

It's okay.
I've still got one good one.

How are you feeling?

The doctors say I have a {\severe }concussion,
but I fine feel.

- Plus I've lost parts of three toes.
- That's terrible, man.

What's going on with you?
{\It sounds like }You have a tickle in your throat?

- No, I'm just a little dehydrated.
- Jeez.

Here I am, going on and on
about losing toes

and getting blown 20 feet{\ into a swimming pool},
and you're dying of thirst.

- Let's get you some water.
- Buzz, I can get it.

It's okay, I...

You stay here.
You know, do whatever you want.

I had a k*ller workout this morning.

All right, everyone, listen up.

As most of you know,

Ivan Petrovich is back on the streets,
and he's targeting

our own.

And this morning he went after
officer McNab with a b*mb.

Bringing in Petrovich
is our number one priority.

And the person
who I've put in charge{\of this investigation},

despite my concern for his safety,

is the man who knows Petrovich
more than all of us combined.

Detective Carlton Lassiter.

Big dinger! Lassie!

{\All right, }Thank you, everyone.
It's good to be back on the case.

I've made up a list of all the places
I think Petrovich might be hiding.

They're being passed out{\ now}.

I want each location surveilled
or checked out immediately.

You've all been assigned
an individual team,

which you'll find
in the lower right hand corner.

- Excuse me.
- What? What is it?

Shawn Spencer here.
I'm having a psychic vision.

It's of a place
that's not on your list.

Martin's Foogoo Chair.

Sonny and Cher...

Lair.
Martin's Lair of the White Worm.

Martin's... Shoe Repair?

That's a phony business
Petrovich used {\as a front }for his drug trade.

He wouldn't be hiding there.
It's the size of a phone booth.

There's an extra room.

There's more to that place.

This is a very strong hit.
I think it's worth checking out.

Why don't you stop by?

Fine.
You ride with O'Hara and I.

The rest of you, let's get on it.
We've got work to do.

- There's nobody in here.
- That's a shame.

I was hoping Daniel Day Lewis'd be here
to fix the rip in my tretorns.

The man cobbles.

I knew this was a waste of time.
Let's go, O'Hara.

Daddy's getting something.

Oh, yeah,
he's definitely getting something.

I'm sensing there's an extra room
attached to this place.

A secret room.

We just have to find the secret...

It's not this.

But what do we have here?

Shawn, you might want
to let this go.

What is this thing?

Look, there's gotta be
like a secret lever or...

Let's go.

Did you guys hear that?

It sounds
like Petrovich has a dead spot.

Move that table.

It's weighting like a entire tree.

I'm going down there.

I know you're down here, Petrovich.

Why didn't we stay up{\ inside the shoe store}?

I told you...
I get freaked out by tassels.

I got him.

Look at that.

- Lassie's getting some press.
- Good for him.

He deserves it.

{\pos(192,230)}50 $ to the guy
wo can get on camera the most.

You're on.

{\pos(192,230)}How does it feel to have taken out
one of SB's most notorious drug lords,

{\pos(192,230)}a man
who was personally targeting you?

I'm happy that particular piece
of scum is off the street.

Let's just leave it at that.

{\pos(192,230)}Describe the moment for us.
Were you scared?

{\pos(192,230)}I don't get scared, Linda.

{\pos(192,230)}He reached for his g*n,
and I reacted.

{\Maybe }You should ask Petrovich
that question.

I can't. He's dead.

Right.

- So what's next, detective?
- Well, there's still...

Knock it off!

There's still {\quite a bit of police }work to be done,

but I am gonna take the time to visit
some of the members of our community

who were most affected by Petrovich.

{\And I'll tell you, }It's gonna feel pretty good
to give them this news.

There it is.

And here it comes.

And...

wait for it.

- Wait for it...
- I don't get scared, Linda.

- 4 and half seconds. I win.
- There's no way.

Sorry, Gus.

The watch...

does not lie.

Doritos, i'll never get sick of you.

You have to admit,
Lassiter stepped up big today.

Yeah, I guess.

- Do you not agree?
- I don't know.

Don't you think
there was something weird{\ about the way that whole thing went down}?

{\There were }Lots of things {\that }were weird.
Like your irrational fear of tassels.

- Irrational?
- Yes.

What purpose
do tassels serve on shoes?

- I don't know.
- I do. Evil.

I'm sorry.
There's still something bugging me{\ about it}.

You want me to do
a little armchair psychology on you?

- No, I do not.
- I think you're jealous of Lassie.

I'm happy to admit
that Lassie succeeded.

Really? Then why did you just put
"succeeded" in air quotes?

Okay, fine.

Lassie did great today.

- There, you happy?
- I would {\be happier }if you really meant it.

Lassie...

did great today.

- Lassie did great today.
- Oh, God.

- Lassie did great today.
- You know what...

- Today...
- Rewind his interview.

I'm retiming.

{\As promised, }An exclusive interview
with the detective

who single-handedly took out
notorious drug boss...

What are you doing?

The sh**t had no scar.

- I take it all back.
- What are you talking about?

- Look at Petrovich's left hand.
- What?

Just look at it!

You see that scar?

Yeah. So?

So Petrovich
wasn't the guy in the bar.

Why haven't you been picking up?{\ I've been calling.}

We didn't hear the...

This is charging.

This is not.
What's wrong with you?

I don't know
why this {\those things}give me so much trouble.

{\Forget about that.}I just saw
the coroner's report on Petrovich.

He had already been dead
for two hours before we got there.

- Lassiter sh*t a dead guy?
- Sounds about right.

So whoever's targeting
Lassiter and McNab is still out there.

- How did he die, by the way?
- Drug overdose. {\And }A major one{\ at that}.

They found giant amounts of PCP, heroin,
and methamphetamine in his system.

Damn.

The guy's in prison for three years.
He gets out and then ods?

Did the coroner's report
say anything about

him being restrained,
or abrasions on his body?

He had rope burns on his wrists.

Petrovich didn't k*ll himself.

Someone tied him up
and forced the dr*gs on him.

Was Lassiter serious
when{\ he said} he wanted to reach out

to members of the community
whose lives were affected{\ the most}?

He's been doing it all day. Why?

I think he's in serious trouble.

Mr. Salamatchia.

Thanks for meeting me here{\, detective}.

Of course.

- Would you mind?
- Of course not, sir.

I have some great news{\ for you},
if you haven't heard already.

What would that be?

Okay, thanks. Let me know.
There's still no word from Lassiter.

And they checked Salamatchia's home
but there's nobody{\ there}.

{\This guy }He was special ops{\ in the marines}, twice decorated.

- {\Are there }Any other addresses listed for him?
- {\It says }He owns a restaurant across town.

What's the address?

Today is the anniversary
of his son's death.

I know where they are.

So it was you this entire time.

I'm sorry, sir, I just don't get it.

Petrovich pumps dr*gs into our schools,
and my son ends up dead,

and you lock him away
on a g*ns charge?

That's my definition
of not getting it.

Put 'em down.

Look...

The g*n charge was all
I could get him on at the time.

I wanted him off the streets.
What am I supposed to do?

Poison him.

Blow him up.

Make him dead.

That's m*rder.

That's justice.

I'm a soldier.

I've k*lled people whose muddy boots

Petrovich wasn't
good enough to lick.

His death,

and yours,

is just my way of...

bringing things back into balance.

You see my point.

What I see is a decent man

whose grief has driven him
to the breaking point.

Don't pretend that you feel
something for me, please.

I've given the better part of my career
chasing the Petroviches of the world

because of people like you.

I understand the pain
that he's put you through.

I've lost my only child,

gone through a divorce.

Just what the hell do you know?

Mr. Salamatchia...

Sorry, detective.

Freeze!

Drop it!

You drop it
or I'll k*ll him right now.

Now!

Please tell me one of you
is carrying a w*apon.

w*apon? No.

Wait.

It's just... It's just this.

You are unbelievable.

It's okay.
It's totally out of range.

- I recognize you.
- Yes, sir.

- We're {\both }listed on the Petrovich case.
- No, we are not.

- I'm not gonna lie.
- Since when?

No, I saw you in the bar.

I know everything there is to know
about that case.

You weren't on it.

- One time.
- What?

Get those feet going. Get low.

Get low. Attaboy.

One time.

Damn it.

Good work.

Great work, Lassie.

Did you just throw
our cordless phone into a tree?

A man's life was hanging in the balance.
It was clearly our only move.

You're buying us a new phone, Shawn.

Your mind is not an opponent, Shawn.

It's a teammate.

{\pos(192,230)}A teammate that's there for you
in good times and bad.

{\pos(192,230)}You may not always get along...
It may be moody...

{\pos(192,230)}Wear your shower sandals
without permission.

{\pos(192,230)}But never doubt its loyalty.

{\pos(192,230)}So when I roll this ball to you,

I want you to scoop it up

and deliver a perfect strike,

knowing all the while

that your teammate
is pulling for you.

I did it.

I'm over the yips. What?

I knew you could do it, Shawn!
I'm so proud of you!

Little long on the hug.

Thank you, though, doc.

My pleasure.
You still want me to bill chief vick?

Yeah, but we're calling this
"trauma therapy."

Will do.

See ya, Gus.

That's it, buddy.

I'm back
to being a five-tool player.

Call me Tori Hunter,
but do it in the jamaican accent.

Me said 'em call me tori hunter.

Can we now go to Kingston's
and get some jerk chicken{\ and johnny cakes}?

- I'm starving.
- Let me get the stuff.

{\It's gonna be }Your treat too.
You still owe me for those socks.

You still owe me
for your whole life.

You know what they say
about athletes and mental blocks?

Don't even try it.

I'm not trying anything.

I'm just {\merely }stating the fact

that most athletes find that
when they get over one mental block,

it shows itself
in another part of their game.

For example, hitting.

You trying to go Hannibal Lecter on me?
Are you out of your mind?

This is one
unflappable element of my game.

- You want me to throw it at you?
- Serve one up.

You bring that little tater over here.
You bring that little tater tot.

Gimme another one.

Put it in here.

Die!

Dr. Manny!

Could you come back, please?

All right, come on.

Bring that meat.

Damn it!