06x11 - The Kicker

[bunniefuu]

Hello, dears.

- Hey, Marie.
- Hi.

Oh, Debra,
I need my big spoon back.

I'm making cakes.

Oh, sure.
For the bake sale?

For the bake sale?

Let's be honest,
my cakes are the bake sale.

I'm making cupcakes
this year.

I think that's sweet,
you're trying to help.

I wouldn't make
too many.

Okay, that's it.

I just needed my big spoon.

Thanks.
Back to baking.

Oh, and I'm gonna send
your father over. Okay, goodbye.

Whoa, whoa, whoa!

W-why is he comin'
over here?

Because I have to concentrate
and I can't have him there.

Well, I don't want him here.

Yesterday, he was showin' the kids
how to burp out a candle.

That's why I want him out.

I'm working with food.
It's a matter of public health.

Oh... please?

I do a lot of baby-sitting
for you.

Yeah, but our kids
don't curse as much.

Ally, why don't you go
to the park with Grandpa?

No, thanks.

Raymond...

why don't you take him
to one of your sports games?

I'm not taking him to any
of my sports games, okay?

Besides, the only football around
is Hofstra and Northeastern.

They're both 0-7--

It's like watchin' the kids
have a tickle fight.

Well, your father already
has his outside pants on,

so I'm sending him over.

No! Come on, Ma...

Hey, hey.
What's shakin', everybody?

- Hey, Robert.
- Who do you like in the big game today?

What big game?

Hofstra and Northeastern--
where ya been?

Tss... huh?

What's with that?

I really haven't been
following Hofstra.

What, are you kidding me?
This is their year.

And Northeastern?

It's like clash of the titans
today.

- Yeah?
- You want to go or not?

Really?

He doesn't want to go.

No, no, no. I'll go, I'll go.
I want to go.

All right.

Okay, great.
Go get Dad and go.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.
Wait.

Me and Dad?

That's right, dear.

There's gonna be
a big tickle fight.

You know, if you want to b*at
the traffic, you better get goin'.

Well, what?
You're not comin'?

I wish, I wish.
I can't catch a break.

I got to work on
the frickin' bake sale all day.

Witchy-poo has got me
frosting up the cupcakes all day.

Ah, the perils
of marriage, huh?

That's too bad, Raymond.

Well, I'll be thinking
about ya.

I'll be thinking about you.

Sucker!

Witchy-poo?

Yeah.
That was great.

The face that you made
when I said it, it was perfect.

Yeah, just like that.

Okay, you can stop now.

"Go with Dad to the game"...

Why do you hate me?

What's on your shirt?

Nacho cheese.

My introduction, please.

You wanna see what you did?

Just introduce me!

Lynn Swann, Jerry Rice,
and now Frank Barone.

What...
you bought a football?

No bought-- caught.

Robert.

Look, I did your intro, Dad.
I'm done.

Hey, you were a witness
to glory.

History demands
your testimony.

What happened?

Well, first of all,
in spite of the hype,

today's game was
not a great match-up.

Come on, really?

But at the end,
this kid from Hofstra

kicks an unbelievable
field goal.

68 yards.

68-yard field goal?

Yep, the longest ever--
college or pro.

Come on, Robert, tell it
like you're not a Gelding.

Well, we had seats
behind the end zone,

and Dad got lucky.

Luck is the residue
of design.

- What?
- Shut up.

You should've seen it.

It was a rocket.

I got my hands ready
for it.

By dumping
his nachos somewhere.

It came towards me...

everyone was trying
to get their mitts on it,

but I put the moves
on all of them.

I jumped over a guy...

You pushed a kid
outta the way.

I jumped over a guy.

It was coming in high...

I had to stretch for it...

I could get only one hand on it,
but that was enough.

I brought that piggy
right down into my chest.

Hello, little piggy.

And then he went, "Whee-whee-whee,"
all the way home.

It was the biggest moment ever
in Hofstra history,

and I have it.

You should have heard
the crowd chanting for me.

"Give it back, jerk!
Give it back, jerk!"

And booing.

Wait, Dad, Dad.

Hofstra's gotta want
that ball back.

You bet your ass they do.

I had to put the razzle-dazzle
on a couple of mooks

Just to get out of the stands.

Frank, that's a record
for the school.

You know it's not right
to keep that, don't you?

Don't bother, Deb.

His soul was removed
to make room for more stomach.

A fan is supposed to do
what's best for the team.

That's what's so great
about this--

I'm not a fan.

Those kids stink.

Except for the kicker.
Thanks, pal!

Charming, no?

Dad, I'd give
the ball back.

Then it's a good thing
you didn't catch it.

- Come on, Robert.
- Where are we going?

To the lodge
to tell the story.

You go in before me
and build me up.

I don't like to toot
my own horn.

No, no, I'm not comfortable
with that.

Oh, yeah?

How was living in my house
for 40 years?

Was that comfortable?

All right, all right.

I believe you were comfortable
eating my food,

watching my TV,

wearing the springs
out of my furniture

with your two-ton rump.

All right!

Raymond?

Taste this.

Good.

How good?

How much would you pay
for this whole cake

at the bake sale?

Uh... $10?

$10?

All right.

Wait a minute.
Wait a minute.

Athousand dollars.

You're such a sweet boy.

How much would you pay
for my cupcakes?

Amillion dollars.

Where's the radio?
Where's the radio?!

What, what?
What's going on?

I heard it driving over.
They're talking about Dad.

- Who is?
- The sports show!

Oh, no!

You wanna know
what that guy is?

I'll tell ya,
he's a jackass.

They are talking
about him.

Man, you should've
seen this guy--

bulldozes a kid
gettin' the ball,

then he hightails out of there
with some big goon.

Hey, he was my ride!

This is embarrassing.

It never ends
with your father.

Boy, hot topic.
Lines are lit up.

Let's go to Frank
in Lynbrook.

Yeah, this is the jackass.

I caught that ball,
and anybody who doesn't like it

can kiss me between
the back pockets.

Are you kidding me?
Are you kidding me?!

You're telling us
you're the guy?

Damn straight.

And you're proud
of what you did?

You bet I am!

You think you deserved the ball?
You're gonna keep it?

No, I'll give it back...

for ten grand.

What is wrong with him?!

$10,000.

The bidding starts
at $10,000, yes.

Unbelievable.

So, Dave on line one,
what do you think?

I think this Frank
deserves to be kicked 68 yards.

Finally, a voice of reason.

Frank, you're telling me

that Ron Fernandez
doesn't deserve the ball?

Who the hell
is Ron Fernandez?

The player who kicked
the field goal.

Well, his money's
as good as anyone else's.

Why do you let him
use the phone?!

I got an idea--
all you whiners

who think this kid
should have the ball

can take up a collection

and send it to Frank Barone,
entrepreneur.

Oh, no. I can't believe
he said that!

I know, "entrepreneur."

No, Barone!
Barone!

He used
our last name!

This is gonna drive down
the price of my cakes.

Wait a minute, Barone?

Any relation to Ray Barone,
the sports writer?

No! No!

Sure, he's my son.

No-oo!

Oh, my cake!

My cake!

Did you hear
what he said?!

How could he say that?!

That explains it.

I hate that guy's column.

He thinks he's so funny.
He blows!

Hey.

Man, I should be taping this.

All right, we got
to take a quick break.

Frank, we got
a whole bunch of callers

who want to talk to you--
can you stay with us?

I'd love to,
but I gotta hit the head,

and the cord
won't reach that far.

And on that lovely note,
we'll be right back.

Frank?

I made you a snack.

Thank you.

Frank, hold the sandwich
with two hands like a person.

I'm all right.

So, um...

Frank, what do say
we turn off the TV...

Chi-chi?

What are you doing?

What do you think I'm doing?

Whoa, whoa, whoa,
you been drinkin'?

No!

Hey, what are you doin'?!

I'm takin' this ball back
to Hofstra where it belongs.

You floozy!

You're not goin' anywhere!

Oh, yes, I am!

Just give me that ball back
and nobody gets hurt.

- Now! Now!
- Okay!

This door is locked!

What did you lock
the door for?!

Aah!

- Okay!
- I'm open, Ma!

Let me go!

Let me go,
you witches!

Robert, throw it!
Robert, throw it!

Sorry!

Idiot!

Ah-ha!

Get out of here, Dad!

You should lock your doors.
It's a bad neighborhood.

Hey, Deb,
I'm really sorry.

I managed to throw
the ball very well.

I thought Ray was cuttin' back
toward the window.

Aclosedwindow?

I couldn't tell it was closed.
The glass looked very clean.

All right, nobody
believes you anymore, Robert.

Oh, hey, listen.

I think I got somethin' here
that's gonna take care of Dad.

Are those the papers
to have him committed?

Ha ha,
very funny, okay.

This is my column
for tomorrow morning.

You know what,
let me read it to you.

It'll be good to get
a perspective from people

who read my column every day.

Ohh...

you're kidding me?

You don't read my column?

It's just that
it's always about sports.

What about you?

I used to read it a lot
when we were dating.

I get "The Times."

Just listen!

"My father is the reason
I became a sports writer.

Growing up, he took me
to every game he could,

teaching me to appreciate
the thrill of competition,

the grace of athletes,

and the wonder
of a properly topped hot dog.

But sadly, my father
has become a symbol

of what is wrong
with sports today.

My father is Frank Barone,

who is now holding a football
for ransom,

hoping to squeeze out
a couple of dollars

and a few minutes
in the limelight.

I see now
that my father and l

no longer share
the same idea of sports,

or, for that matter, life.

And because he'll never
apologize, I'll do it.

Sorry, Ron Fernandez.
Sorry, Hofstra University.

Sorry, sports fans everywhere.
You deserve better.

We all do."

- So?
- Wow.

Not bad. I should read
your stuff more often.

It's beautifully written
and so honest.

Mm-hmm.

What are you doing?!
Give me that!

You just said
that it was good!

It's exceptional,
but you can't print that.

You don't att*ck
your family in public.

What are you talking about?

You took a swing at him
at the mall last week.

That's different.

He was doing skits
in the lingerie store.

All right, Ma, look...
he has to publish this, all right?

Dad is a menace,
and he's got to be stopped.

- See?
- I'm with you all the way, brother.

Ray, your mom
has a point.

Oh my God.

I don't think this
is gonna get the ball back.

What do you want to do,

draw up another play
for Fran Tarkenton here?

This is just
gonna make Frank

dig his heels in even more.

Think of our family,
Raymond.

It'll only destroy
our harmony.

Harmony!

Are you hearing this?

Are you?
Because she's right.

What?
What happened to this?

I still got it.

It's just over here now.

You know what?
I don't care what you think.

People have to know
that I am not like him.

Oh, really?
Okay, 'cause I thought

this was about getting the ball back,
but if you just want to clear your name,

then this will do it.
You should definitely publish it then.

Don't try and pull that
"tell me to do it

so I don't do it"
flippity-floo, okay?

I'm gonna do it.
You think this is gonna stop me?

All I need is a piece of tape.
No, I can just print it up again.

Yeah, that's what I'll do.

Hey, you know what?
I'm going to make it even stronger.

There's stuff that I left out.
That's the power of the press, people.

And don't any of you
try to stop me,

or I'll write somethin'
about you.

What kind of stuff
you think he'd write?

- Don't worry about it, Robert.
- I had a slight bed-wetting problem.

Hey, Dad,
you down here?

- Hey.
- What do you want?

Look, I tried
a lot of different things

to get you to do
what's right.

I was even gonna publish
an article about you,

but some people thought it would
screw up our family harmony.

So I'm gonna
try somethin' else.

- Family harmony?
- Yeah, I don't know.

All right, guys,

come on down.

Come on down,
it's okay.

What the hell is this?

This is Ron Fernandez,
Dad.

Who?

The guy who kicked
the ball, Dad.

Andthis is hisfather.

Oh, jeezaloo,
what are you doin'?

- Go ahead.
- Uh, well, uh...

Mr. Barone,

that was really impressive
the way you, uh...

caught that ball.

I think that was
a really great catch.

You are a real
piece of work.

We can't afford 10,000,
Mr. Barone.

I can pay you 500.

Please.
I want it for my son.

Captain Huggles?

Keep your money.
I don't want your money.

God forbid,
I should make a buck.

But let me
tell you somethin'...

I know what this ball
is worth,

so I better not see you
sellin' it.

No, sir.

I'm surprised you don't
have them holding a puppy.

Here.

Thank you.

This is for you, Dad.

What?

No, it's yours.
You should have it.

No... you're the one
who got me started, Dad.

I kicked it for you.

Go on.

Okay?

Thank you, Mr. Barone.

You are a gentleman.

- You see that?
- Yeah.

You see how nice
that kid was to his father?

You owe me ten grand!

If the Knicks are ever going
to compete with the Lakers,

they need to be
bigger up front.

Let's see what
you all have to say.

Robert, from Lynbrook.

Uh, yeah. Hey, Gary.

Long-time listener,
first-time caller.

I just want to say
I heard that Frank Barone

gave that ball back.

I think he showed

the true spirit
of American harmony.

Well, thank you, Robert.
I happen to agree with you,

but we were talking about
the Knicks.

Absolutely--
one more thing...

I liked when the guy said,
"Ray Barone blows."

Let's hear more from him.

Ray Barone.

Laugh it up, pee-pee pants.