All language subtitles for Brockmire - 4x06 - The Hall [720p-AMZN-WEBRip-x264-GalaxyTV]

- Can I help you?

- Jim Brockmire?
- Yeah.

- For your major contributions
to sports journalism,

you've been selected
as an inductee

to the Baseball
Hall of Fame.

- Oh, my God,
are you serious?

- Who are you two?
You from the Hall of Fame?

- No, we're with Limon Favór.

The hall emailed you, but Limon
thought you might appreciate

getting this news
from an actual human.

So I'm, uh--I'm supposed
to hug you now.

- No, that won't be necessary,
thank you very much.

I mean, I have
a family and everything.

I'm alone at
this very moment because

just chased away
the love of my life

and my daughter's not returning
my goddamn phone calls

for some reason,
but other than that,

I'm fine, really,
so thank you very much.

- No, no, I--I have to hug you
to get the credits.

- Jesus, okay,
what the hell, huh?

Hey, can you stop clapping,
please?

Thanks.

No, wait, wait,
Limon was right.

I need this.

God, the Hall of Fame,
my God!

It's the culmination
of my career, man,

my life, really,

all the highs and the lows
and the heavens and the scum.

My life's come
full circle.

Baseball is just

welcoming me home.

I'm sorry.
- Shh, shh, it's okay.

Just--just go ahead
and, you know, let it all out.

I earn more credits
if you cry.

I'm sorry.
- Okay.

I'm sorry. I--I'm sorry.

- Good job.

- Oh, oh, God.

Get out.

♪

Uh, Limon,
call Beth again, please.

- Beth is not available.

Do you want
to leave a message?

- Sure.

Uh, hey, sweetie, it's me.

Uh, I'd love to hear from ya
'cause I love you

and I'd also love to confirm
that you're coming

to the culmination
of my life's work.

I don't want to put pressure,

but that is literally
what today is,

so, uh, anywhoodles,
uh, well, call me back.

Thank you.

- Ready for your speech,
Commissioner?

- Oh, I should be.

Wrote this thing 25 years ago.

Never been lacking in
self-confidence or nose hair,

both of which make strangers
really uncomfortable.

- Okay, let's talk
running order.

Buster Posey will go first,

and then it's you
followed by Lance Kucher,

who is being
introduced by his dad,

who seems like such
a sweet old man.

- Oh, the guy's
a peach, yeah.

- And is your daughter
still introducing you?

- Absolutely,
she is gonna crush it.

I don't like to brag--

actually, love to do it--

but she's three-time
state debate team champion.

- Yep, she sounds great,
and is she here?

- Not at the moment, no.
Nowhere in sight.

- Okay, uh, maybe we should
flip the order

and put you up after Lance.

- Whoa, what?

Kooch Senior? Guy's
a horrible monster, please.

- You said he was a peach.

- Yeah, I was being polite.

The man has a real

"Clint Eastwood with tinnitus"
vibe about him,

plus you can bet that
that speech of his

is gonna get real racist
and I mean real fast.

- But he said he was just
gonna speak from the heart.

- That's where
his hatred lives,

right there
in his heart.

Look, Kooch's wife
is Scotch-Irish.

He refers to her
as mixed race, so, no, no,

I cannot have Kooch Senior's
shit stink

still in the air
when I hit the stage.

I mean, it's my legacy
we're talking about here.

- Commissioner.
- Yeah?

- Beth has been unreachable

for this entire process.

Is this gonna be
a problem?

- No, absolutely not.

She responded to my long
and sincere Limon invite

with a "K,"
and she's a woman of her word.

- K.

- In this case,

her passive-aggressive
single letter.

Oh, thank God.

Never had a doubt.

God, it's good
to see ya,

and you have bangs.

Really, we're going
with bangs on a day

that's gonna be immortalized
for all eternity?

'Cause I thought I made
my tonsorial beliefs

on that matter just exceedingly
clear throughout the year.

- Yeah, you always
referred to them

as the Devil's curtains.

- So you do remember.

So that was intentional.

No time to focus
on that, though.

Gotta read your speech
because I want to make sure

we don't overlap
or anything, you know.

Aha, okay,
that's the speech?

- Yes, this is the speech,
but I want to be clear:

this is the one
that I'm giving.

- I understand.
I just, uh, wanna make sure

we're not using
the same anecdotes.

You know, I call dibs
on the time

that we were snowed in
on that merry-go-round.

All right,
Hall of Fame speech.

"My father, Jim Brockmire,
is a hall of fame asshole."

No, you're starting 'em
off with a laugh.

That's great, okay.

Can't wait to see
how you buy it back.

Okay, still no buy back.

Skip ahead a little here.

Okay, page three,

and we are just getting meaner
and more specific.

And what is the graph?
What's this graph?

That's a timeline
of the election

that I fixed
in Thailand.

Are you kidding me?

I told you that in confidence.
What's the matter with you?

You know, this whole speech
is filled with such vitriol,

it's like it's only purpose
is to hurt me.

- So you don't like it.

- It's like it's
the bangs of speeches.

- Are you upset with me
or something?

- Should I be
upset with you?

- Oh, boy, answering a question
with a question

is never a sign
that everything

is just super chill,
now, is it?

- Well, you know,
it really wasn't easy

summarizing your legacy,
but I did my research

and everything in that speech,
it's--it's factual.

- Beth, we're standing here
in Cooperstown

because a con man
named Abner Doubleday

spun a lot of bullshit
that he invented baseball here.

I mean, this place
is literally built on lies.

But you know what?
That's okay

because it's become part
of a larger American myth.

This is a temple
built on ground

that we all decided
was sacred,

and this speech,
it's a desecration, darling.

I mean, you wouldn't
run around the Vatican

shouting that Jesus
was just some magician

who did his tricks for free,
now, would you?

- Comparing
yourself to Jesus?

- You know,
at least I'd never

overthrow the tables
of the money changers.

I mean, some poor guy

is handing out microloans
to his community

has to have
his whole day ruined

'cause Jesus
just gotta be the big man.

I mean,
what's that shit?

- You know, just maybe

it's time this place
stops being built on lies.

Maybe it's time that
we point out a few things,

you know, like,
oh, Tom Yawkey,

malignant racist who refused to
integrate the Red Sox, right?

And Ty Cobb,
he--he tried to murder

an armless fan
during a game once.

Hey, right now,
we're in the Ty Cobb Room.

Society,
it's--it's crumbling

because we continue
to excuse awful behavior

and choose the most palatable,

convenient version
of the truth, but, hey,

I'm not gonna be
a participant

in another whitewashing
of the past.

I'm just keeping it Brockmire.

- Well, you got me there.

The cornerstone of my parenting
has always been brutal honesty.

But you know what?

Right now, I got a brown bear
knocking on my back door,

so I gotta hit the head,
but hold that thought.

I want to continue
this conversation.

Limon,
please call Charles.

- Charles is unavailable.

Why don't you leave him
a message?

Charles, where are you, man?

Beth is freaking out.

She's on this--
this crazy truth kick.

She's gonna embarrass
the hell out of me

with her introduction speech,

so I may need you
to step in and just--

- Jim Brockmire?

I have some bad news.

Your friend Charles
isn't gonna make it today.

His blimp hit
some bad weather.

- Oh, man.
- Would you like a hug?

- No, thank you, Limon,
I don't need another hug.

- I could do
other things

and we could just tell Limon
it was a hug.

- Jesus Christ,
stay away from me.

Hey, event coordinator,
is this--

- I have a name.

- I'm not even gonna pretend
that I remember what that is.

Is this the guest list?

I need to take a look at it
because I just gotta

find somebody who knows
and respects me

enough to say a few loving
words of introduction.

Let's see,
definitely not Bob Costas,

not Jessica Mendoza.

Bob Uecker,
he hates my guts.

I hate that
Keith Olbermann idiot.

Dan Patrick
once took a shit in my bed.

So did Eisen.

So did Le Batard.

My goodness, this list

is like a regular who's who
of pillow poo.

- Didn't you have a ticket
put aside for a Julia James?

- Yeah, but, unfortunately,
she's out dealing

with a very sensitive
labor issue for the league,

that and she made it very clear

that she had no desire
to see this or me, really.

- Maybe just don't have
anyone introduce you.

- Boy, has it actually
come to this?

I've just--I've fractured
every relationship in my life

to the point where no one
will stand up for me.

- Congratulations, Jim!

- And now, now
I'm living a nightmare.

That's what's
happening to me.

Joe Buck.

- Hey, is it true
that some of these players

are talking about
a midseason strike?

- Shh, as commissioner,
I'm not really at liberty

to discuss that, Joe,
but, yes, yes, these unions

are just gonna kill
this game dead, Joe Buck.

They're gonna, pow, Moe Greene
it right in the eye.

But I got bigger problems
right now, Joe.

Beth was supposed to give
my introduction speech today,

but we're in the middle

of a little father-daughter
spat right now,

so I was wondering if maybe

you would willing
to be on deck for me?

- Jim, I'd be honored.
- Great.

- And you were right
to come to me.

I mean, after all,
we are best friends.

- We're definitely not
best friends, Joe.

- No, no, no,
you're not my best friend,

but I am definitely
your best friend.

Let that dawning awareness
overtake you.

Look, I'm all you got, man.

Someday, I'm gonna be doing
your goddamn eulogy.

- Who the hell was that?
- Who the hell was what?

Look, to be clear...

I may not even need you
to give the speech, okay?

I just gotta talk Beth down
off of this ledge.

- Understood.

I think I'm
giving the speech.

- No, no, no, Beth's
a hothead like me.

Sometimes she leads
with her anger,

but I'm her father, man.

That is
an unconditional love,

and that love
is gonna win the day.

- Feels like
I'm giving the speech.

- Eh.

All right, listen, honey,

I--I don't know
what's going on here.

Maybe this is part
of your whole

"pulling away from me"
thing,

but, please,
there's gotta be

a better way to do it
than this.

- If you want to convince me
not to give the speech,

all you have to do
is prove me wrong.

- What, like--like a debate?

- Yep, classic Lincoln-Douglas
format.

Start with
affirmative construction

and end by trading rebuttals
until you crumble in defeat

and I go up on that stage and I
rip your asshole a new asshole

so when you shit yourself,
you see it coming twice.

- Okey-doke, um...

I'll take the affirmative
of the resolution

that a positive speech
can be given about me

without lying.

- Okay.

You have six minutes.

- Jesus, well,
I--I won't need all that.

Okay.

You claim your speech
is factual.

I won't dispute that.

But you left out
certain facts about me

that paint a very distorted
picture

of, like, a monster
from beginning to end

when, in fact, mine is a tale
of human redemption,

of a man who got sober
and changed for the better.

Now, in my drinking days,

did I once
marry a dog as a joke? Yeah.

Am I still paying him alimony?
Absolutely.

God, I wish that Scraps
would just remarry.

I just--I just want him to be
happy, but anywhoodles.

You left all that
out of this speech.

I mean, to strip me
of my triumphs

is to lie by omission, okay?

And with that, the affirmative
rests for cross-examination.

- What color
were my mother's eyes?

- What?
- Answer the question.

- Brown.
- Are you answering

from memory
or inference?

- Beth, well, what does this--

- You say that
you're a changed man.

Okay, if that were true,

why have you spent
all of these years lying to me

about your knowledge of

and relationship
with my birth mother?

I was awake when you admitted
everything to Jules.

You never loved my mother!

You don't even remember her!

- Oh, Beth, um...

- I need a five-minute recess.

- Wha--

Oh, Joe Buck, I messed up,
and I mean real bad.

Beth found out
my most shameful secret.

I don't know that she's
ever gonna speak to me again.

- Are you still
fucking that dog?

- That was
a green card marriage,

and you know
that it was, Joe Buck.

Our love was
platonic and pure,

and how you doing there,
Mr. and Mrs. Posey?

God, your son was just
one heck of a catcher.

Congratulations to you.

- Look, Jim, I've got
five kids of my own.

Here's what
I can tell you.

This speech
is coming along great.

I've already got eight minutes
of Joe Buck gold in here.

- How's that
even possible?

- I'm mainly
copying and pasting

from my upcoming memoir.

It's called
"Joe Buck Yourself."

I mean, after all, what are you
without the context of me?

- You know, as one narcissistic
egomaniac to another,

you are a world-class
son of a bitch, you know that?

- That may be,
but you gotta listen to me.

Today's the most important day
of your baseball life.

If she has one ounce
of your penchant for revenge,

she'll find a way
to ruin this ceremony,

so tell another lie.

Do whatever you have to do.

Your legacy is at stake.

- Just promise me that if
you do have to introduce me,

you'll mention me
once or twice, okay?

Thanks.
- You got it.

Fucked...a...dog.

- You're late.

I'm taking that time

off your cross-examination.

So your supposition is that

you've been a bad person
and then a good person,

but I contend you've always
been the same shitty person.

You lied to your sister
about your mother,

and then you lied to me
about mine,

and those lies were
15 years apart

on both sides
of your sobriety.

What is your deal?

Do you get off
on lying about mothers?

When you go to Mr. Magoriam's
Masterbatorium,

and, yeah,
I do know about that,

do you pay extra
for a virtual scenario

where you get to tell Bambi
that his mom is still alive?

You sick freak.

You are the same terrible
person that you've always been.

- How you doing there,
Mr. and Mrs. Posey?

Congratulations again.

Look, I don't want
to debate anymore, okay?

- Why, because
you'll lose?

- No. Well, yes,
I would definitely lose.

God, that Bambi comp,
that was brutal,

and I could tell that you
just--you found it in the air.

- I'm just speaking
from the heart.

- I don't want
to debate anymore

'cause I know what
you're doing, darling.

Why? 'Cause I did
the same thing my whole life.

I eulogized
my father that way,

and I gotta tell you
something.

Never made me
feel any better.

The problem
with scorched earth is,

you can't go back and figure
out what the hell went wrong.

You end up carrying that pain
your whole entire life,

and you deserve much better
than that, all right?

You deserve the truth,
so please just ask me anything.

- Commissioner,
we need you on deck.

Kooch's dad brought
a separatist flag.

- Not now, Janet.

Yep, I knew your name
the whole time.

- I'm gonna shit
on his pillow.

- Well, you don't want
to be late.

What about your legacy?

- Right now, my only concern
is how you remember me, okay?

That's my legacy.

- Why did you lie?

- You know,
at first I rationalized it

by telling myself
that I was protecting you,

but then I think I kept lying
over the years to protect me.

You know, I keep running
that period of time

over and over again
in my mind.

It's not like somebody
erased the tape.

It's like nobody was even

running the camera
to begin with.

- Do you know anything real
about her?

- Just what the private
investigators could tell me.

She was born Eden Floribeth
Reyes in Carmona in 1987.

She received a degree
in applied statistics

from Ateneo De Manila
University in 2009,

and she died when
Super Typhoon Haiyan

made landfall
on Leyte Island in 2013.

Somewhere in between graduating
college and her death,

she met me, and I can't believe
that that was a coincidence.

- What is that
supposed to mean?

- Beth, back then,
my only companions were

fugitives and degenerates
and gamblers and addicts,

and your mother was
definitely not of that world.

Who knows what I paid
or promised or lied about

to lure her
into my strange darkness.

- That's conjecture.

You have no idea what
actually happened, Dad!

- All right, okay.

Let's stick
to the facts then.

Before I met your mother,

she was an academic
with a promising future.

Afterwards, she got pregnant,
disowned by her family,

and she died alone.

I was definitely
the worst thing

that ever happened to Eden,

and I don't even have
the decency to remember her.

And the shame of that
is like a weight.

It's like a stone
down there in my stomach.

- That's not a story
about my mom.

That's a story about you.

- What are y--
- You're saying that

in her entire life,

the only day that mattered
was the day that she met you.

Dad, you're doing to her
what you've done to me.

You are making our story
your story.

- Jesus Christ,
you're absolutely right.

Even when I give
my heart to someone,

I make it a selfish act.

I just made you
my new addiction

and afflicted my pain on you
just like my parents did to me.

They probably started
by now.

- Probably.

- I can't believe
you were gonna tell

the merry-go-round story.

- Why not?
It's a great story.

I mean, that storm just came
out of nowhere, didn't it?

- It was terrifying,

got dark and cold
so fast.

And even though
it was just the two of us,

when you said
we were gonna be okay,

I believed you,

especially after you killed
that raccoon for sustenance.

Then, of course,
it just ended up being

the owners' pet raccoon.

- Yeah, with hindsight,
that was way too easy.

I think she thought
we were just playing with her.

- That's your parenting
in a nutshell.

It's way over the top,
enthusiastically wrongheaded,

but...

You're always
trying your best.

I do know a few other things
about your mother.

She made friends easily,

she was kind,
and she was very brave.

I know that
'cause you're those things,

and, let's face it, you don't
get any of that from me,

that's for sure.

Well, we should hurry.

I got a speech to give.

- Are you sure?

- Unless you want
Joe Buck to do it.

- Oh, Joe Buck can eat
a big bag o' dicks.

- Okay,
one more question.

Do you like my bangs?

- The important thing,
sweetie,

is that you like them.
- I hate them.

- Thank goodness,
'cause they're just awful.

It's not your fault.

Bangs are just a prank

a woman plays on herself
every three years.

- I love you, Dad.

- I love you too.

- Okay.

- Beth,
I really am sorry

that I can't tell you
any more about your mother.

- It's okay.

I know everything
I need to know.

Cubs three to two.

- Oh, shit, baseball.

Oh, what chan--
um...

- I have the TV
linked to my laptop

so I can stream games
illegally.

- You like baseball?

- One of my statistics
professors introduced me to it.

- Huh.
- Baseball is like this

intersection of life and math
where you can predict anything

except the moments
that change everything.

- This is definitely the best
conversation I've ever had

after waking up on a bar.

My name is Jim--
- Jim Brockmire.

- Yeah, yeah, hey.

- Eden. We've met
many times.

- Oh, I'm sorry.

I'm kind of on the bender
to end all benders here.

Let me ask you, you ever
actually been to a game?

- No.
- Oh, you have to

because in person,
it's so much more

than just
an intellectual exercise.

I mean,
it's a meditative experience.

Baseball is the only game
that actually

gets more enjoyable
with your eyes closed,

just the...

the inhale and exhale
of the crowd,

the smells on
the languid summer air,

and the sounds of the bat
and the ball and the glove.

It's beautiful.

- Well, this is the best
conversation I've ever had

with someone who's
blackout drunk.

- I won "Celebrity Jeopardy!"
blackout drunk.

I kicked
Jerry Orbach's ass.

Oh, yeah, I should
have realized

Jerry Orbach
wouldn't translate.

Um, imagine if a loaf
of rye bread came alive

and started
arresting everybody.

- Pakshet.

My shift's over,
sorry.

- All right.

Bye, baseball.

- Unless you'd like
to join me.

- Eden, my goodness,
so--so forward.

- Not really.

I've actually turned you down
three times before this.

- Certainly hope
I was charming in defeat.

- You're always charming when
you're not being an asshole.

- Walking that tightrope,
that is the journey of my life.

Charming to asshole.

It's an old double play
combination too.

Charming to idiot to asshole.

So you live close by?