All language subtitles for Angels.In.The.Outfield.1951.WEBRip.1080p.DD1.0.x264.eng

Woman: This is Forbes field
in Pittsburgh,

and this is
our national pastime--

the game of baseball,

as played by
the Pittsburgh pirates.

[Laughter]

I didn't know a thing
about baseball.

My usual job was writing
the household hints column

on the ladies' page,

but the paper was running
a series of articles--

what's wrong with the pirates?

The sports editor wanted
the woman's angle.

All I knew was that
Pittsburgh was losing.

This, I learned,
was quite normal.

He's out!

The manager of the pirates

was a large man
named Guffy Mcgovern

who was always coming out

to discuss things
with the umpire.

I was too far away to hear,

but he seemed upset, irritated,

maybe even angry.

What's the matter with you?

[Cursing unintelligibly]

You hear me?

All right, Guffy,
watch your language,

or I'll throw you
out of the game.

There was certainly
something wrong

with the pirates.

Take that time
when Cincinnati was batting

and that pirate player

got hit in the head
with the ball.

That didn't seem right.

[Cursing unintelligibly]

And later in the game,

when the pirates were hitting

and had a good chance to score,

well, even I knew

three runners on
one base was too many.

You're out!
You're out!

Great!
That's the first time

you three guys have been
together all season.

[Laughter]

The score at the end of the game

was Cincinnati, 21,
Pittsburgh, 2.

You through, Jenny?

I haven't even started.

How do you get a story
out of that?

Well, you hit them on a bad day.

Yeah.

Yeah. They had
a good one back in 1938.

Hey, maybe I should talk
to Mcgovern, huh?

Now?

Well, yeah.
That's a wonderful idea.

Everybody should talk
to Mcgovern at least once.

Well, how do I get down there?

Well, you see that second
tunnel down there?

Yeah.

Go down through that.
The first door on the right

is the entrance to
the pirate clubhouse.

Oh, thanks, and thanks
for letting me sit here.

Anytime.

And, Jen, give Guffy
our best regards.

I will. Bye.

Bye.

What a dirty trick.

So ends another holocaust
in Forbes field,

the pirates' exhibition
of skill this afternoon

reducing their standing

to seventh place
in the national league.

By the way, I'll not be with you

for the balance of the season.

It seems in the course
of my sportscasts,

I have somehow offended
the great Guffy Mcgovern,

alleged manager of the pirates.

Steps have been taken,
and briefly,

your announcer has been canned.

I'll still have my regular
Tuesday night broadcast

and Wednesday television,

and I shall continue to call
the plays as I see them.

This is Fred Bayles saying

thank you, Guffy Mcgovern.

No, no, lady. You
can't go in there.

Press.

No.

Gangway.

Uh, Mr. Mcgovern,
please.

Does he come out this way?

When he's dressed, he does.

I'd like a story,
so I think I'll wait.

Lady, he just lost
a ball game 21-2.

He's unhappy.

You can't win all the time.

Guffy Mcgovern:
I would like to say a few words

about today's endeavor
with the Cincinnatis.

Of all the...

[Cursing unintelligibly]

Personally, I think it was
a waste of time to send me.

I don't know the game,
and I haven't any story,

but I can tell you what's wrong
with the pirates, all right--

that Mcgovern person.

Of all the loudmouthed,
offensive--

and all those nice,
clean-cut young men

and the way he bullies them.

No wonder they make
mistakes. Anybody would.

But if you ask me,
the Pittsburgh pirates

would be a lot better off
without him,

and so would the city
of Pittsburgh!

Hey, write it.

Write what?

What you think about Mcgovern.

But he'd sue us.

Honey, compared
to his real character,

it'll read like a testimonial.

Do your worst,

and let me see it
when you're finished.

Well...

Hi, Jen.

Hi.

Household hints.

Obituary department.

12 more people kicked off today.

How was the game?

Anybody die out there?

Just the pirates.

Listen to this--

"Ignatius A. Turnball,
aged 77 years,

passed away at his home
today following a..."

What a depressing job.

Think about me.

I have to write about
Guffy Mcgovern.

Now, there's an obituary
I'd like to handle.

Mr. Kirney must have
liked the story.

He even put
my byline on it--

"by Jennifer Paige,
household hints editor."

He wanted more
of the same--

personal stuff about Mcgovern.

I realized I'd have to do
a little sleuthing.

I found out
where he lived--

one furnished room
and kitchenette

near the ballpark.

He had no known relatives,
never any visitors.

Every morning about 11:00,
he left for the field.

There were plenty of empty cabs

cruising around,

but Mcgovern wanted the one
without the driver.

He would.

[Honking horn]

Hail a cab!
Hail a cab!

This is the only hack
in Pittsburgh?

You like the color or something?

You know the law, Sonny.

You're supposed to
stay with your cab

at all times.
Are you with it?

Forbes field and make it snappy.

Aw, the bums don't
start until 1:30!

His afternoons
were spent like this...

[Cursing unintelligibly]

The only place
he was seen in public

outside the ballpark
was John's steakhouse.

They had the best steaks
in town.

Medium rare.

Yeah.

I'm going over and talk to him.

You'll make
a nice item tomorrow.

"Jennifer Paige, age 24,

departed this world
at approximately--"

oh, stop.

I came here to corner
him, didn't I?

Well, there he is, cornered.

Waiter, a Brandy for the lady.

Yes, sir.

I'm Jennifer Paige.

Jennifer Paige.

I wrote that story about you

this morning in the messenger.

You didn't read it?

All I ever read
is the box scores.

Well, I began
this way...Quote--

"Aloysius X. Mcgovern,

"the evil-tongued orator
of the baseball field

"is a surly, unbred goat

"whose mouth should be
washed out regularly

with a strong detergent."

Don't ever call me Aloysius.

You're--you're not mad?

Dogs have fleas.

Managers have sportswriters.

Oh, I'm not a sportswriter.

I do household hints
for the ladies' page.

But I have a few facts
and figures about your--

oh, don't put so much
ketchup on your steak.

It spoils the flavor--

a few statistics
that might be interesting.

For instance...

Last season, Minelli had
a batting average of .310.

This year he had .210.

Now, that's 100 points
difference.

Doesn't that prove something?

I'll have to speak to Minelli.

Cruickshank's average
is way down, too--93 points,

and Minden's and begg's,
and it's the same

right through the whole
batting list.

Where'd you gather
this information?

Tim Durney helped me.
He's the obituary editor.

What do you hear from want ads?

Well, I realize figures
can be misleading,

but when an entire team
goes as sour as the pirates,

well, I look around
for a reason,

and I look right at you.

Uh, what, uh, what--

what do you have to say,
Mr. Mcgovern?

What'd he say?

"Boo"?

Well, well, Guffy Mcgovern.

How are things in seventh place?

Fine. Fine.

What do you do with
your afternoons now, junior?

Thanks to you,
I just signed a deal

to broadcast
for the giants, whom,

as you may have heard,
are leading the league.

Meanwhile, I'm just lying around

thinking of things
to say about you.

Why don't you catch me tonight?

I'm on the air in an hour.

I can't wait.

I got a mission in life
now, Guffy.

I'm going to run you out
of this town,

maybe right out of
organized baseball.

You wouldn't do that.

Oh, yes, I would.

I'm a stinker.

Why don't we talk this over?

Let's step in here a minute.

I got an exclusive for you.

[Thumping]

[Punch]

[Thud]

* take me out to the ball game *

* take me out to the... **

before I say good night,
I would like to reiterate...

My opinions are those
of an unbiased observer

who has the best interests
of baseball at heart.

There is nothing personal
in my feud with Guffy Mcgovern.

Incidentally,

don't look for me
on television tomorrow.

[Crowd cheering]

By asking questions,
I began to learn baseball.

Question--
what is a balk?

Answer--
see me tomorrow.

Question--
what is a rhubarb?

Answer...

[Shouting]

He's out.

The man was out!
The man was out!

Get out, Mcgovern!

You're out of the game!

[Clapping in time
to Mcgovern's footsteps]

[Clapping stops]

Boo!
Boo!

[Clapping in time to footsteps]

Radio:
And there you have it.

Final score--Cincinnati, 9,
Pittsburgh, 0.

The pirates had a total
of 3 hits, 7 errors.

The reds, 14 hits--

don't be so modest, Baxter.

You made two of those errors

all by yourself.

Well, what's
the matter, Mr. Minden?

Did you think that
was second base?

Ah, I'm certainly proud
of you athletes today.

Particularly you,
Mr. Ronson,

our schoolboy star,

the pride of Milwaukee high.

But I worry about you, son.

You're going to catch a fly ball

some of these days

and knock out your front teeth.

Ah, Cruicksie.

Cruicksie, you were fine.

You didn't fall down once.

And here we have
the famous Saul Hellman,

our relief pitcher.

You fellas may not believe this,

but Saul once pitched

a two-hitter
in a world series.

Of course, that was
quite some time ago,

but he's still in there
pitching.

1 walk and 4 hits
on 10 pitched balls.

Don't you think
you're a little old

for this pastime, Saul?

You should have quit winners

when you could still
reach the plate.

Easy, Saul.

I'm glad for one thing--

today's game puts us
in eighth place.

We can go no lower
in this league.

We used to have a guy like that

in the 3-i league once.

We used to put gunpowder
in his cigarettes.

Hey, has Mcgovern
always been like this?

You knew him in the minors,

didn't you, way back when?

Well, what I mean is, you know,

when you were first breaking in.

You can say it--
16 years ago.

Oh, you've got plenty
of stuff left. Plenty.

Sure.

Where's my good luck piece?

I put it in your uniform.

Well, where is it?

Maybe you dropped it
out on the field.

Of all the...

[Cursing unintelligibly]

Oh, shut up!

What?

Close your fat mouth.
I want to talk to you.

If that's some wise guy
on the P.A. system,

I'll bust his snoot.

You'll bust nobody's snoot
if you know what's good for you.

You've been busting snoots

and polluting the air with your
foul talk long enough, Mcgovern.

Frankly, we're fed up.

Do tell.
And who are you, may I ask?

An angel.

How's that?

I'm an angel.

Well, you must be very proud.

Let me get my hands on him.

I'll make him an angel.

Oh, you're cold, Mcgovern.

I never sit in the field boxes.

Where do you sit?

Usually on the right hand
of the archangel Gabriel.

That name mean anything to you?

Sure, sure. Gabriel.
Trumpet player.

None of your lip, Guffy,

or I'll boot you over
the center field wall.

I can get just as tough
as you. Remember that.

I'll murder this guy!

Cold, Guffy.

Oh, colder still.

Now you're getting warm.

Keep talking.

The angel Gabriel's
taken a personal interest

in you, bigmouth.

It seems someone down there's

been sending up a lot
of prayers on your behalf.

Somebody praying
for me. Gee.

One punch!
That's all I ask! One punch!

Before he answers those prayers,

he'd like to clean you up
a little,

and I'm stuck with the job.

Now, there's certain rules.
I'll give them to you fast.

Number 1--
cut out the blasphemy.

Number 2--start treating
your fellow men

with a little more respect
and understanding.

Quit making life miserable
for everybody around you.

Number 3--
and this is important--

love and stop slugging
thy neighbor.

You hear me?

I hear you fine.

Why can't I see you
for one moment?

Because I usually stay as far
away from you as possible.

The bleachers!

Stay where you are!
Stand still and listen,

or I'll blast you
with a bolt of lightning.

Now don't rile me, boy.

Just behave yourself,
and we'll get along fine.

As a matter of fact,
I'll make a deal with you--

lay off swearing and fighting,

and I'll win you
some ball games.

I might even win you a pennant.

You'd like to win a pennant
again, wouldn't you, Mcgovern?

All right, you play ball with
me, and I'll play ball with you.

How about that?

How do I know
you're what you say you are?

Thunder and lightning's
not enough, huh?

All right, Aloysius,
you trusting soul,

look for a miracle
tomorrow night

in the third inning.

What kind of a miracle?

Tomorrow night
in the third inning...

Hey! Hey!

Hey, where are you?

Wait a minute!

Wait a--

[crowd cheering]

Ronson?

You're out!

You're out!

[Crowd cheering]

[Crowd cheering]

Safe!

[Crowd cheering]

[Crowd cheering]

Out!

Yeah? What?

I was about to suggest

that possibly you erred
on that decision.

Get off the field.

Yes, sir.

[swat]

Nice going, bigmouth.

[Take me out
to the ball game playing]

Jennifer: The pirates
had come to life.

On the road,
they won 10 games straight,

and stranger still,

Mcgovern was a changed man.

He hadn't punched a soul
in two weeks.

The team was in sixth position

when they played the braves
in Boston.

It was the last inning.

The pirates
were winning 8-6,

a hard-fought game.

Boys, boys!

Now, boys, boys,
please take it easy.

Now, I'll handle this.
Let me--

get out of my way,
you bowlegged ape.

You fetter-mouthed
donkey,

you buckethead...

[Thunder]

Well, Mcgovern, you sure talked
your way out of that one.

10 straight games, and then
you had to go and blow it.

Now, look--

take off your hat.

Yes, sir.

All I said this afternoon--

I heard what you said.
Don't repeat it.

Well, look.
The guy called me an ape.

Bowlegged ape.

Yeah.

You are a little bowlegged.

What am I supposed to do--
take it as a compliment?

Don't I get a chance
to talk back?

Certainly.
The English language

has a total of 698,000 words.

We ask you to avoid
1/100 of 1% of these,

which, at the moment,

seems to be your
entire vocabulary.

I'll be tongue-tied.

Shakespeare wasn't,
nor Milton, nor Robert burns.

Study, Mcgovern, study.

Ok, I keep my trap shut,

I win all my games, huh?

Now, wouldn't that
look a little silly,

the pirates winning every game?

Yes, it would.

Besides, we have
other things to do.

A lot of time,
you'll be on your own,

and when you need us,
we'll be in there pitching.

Who's we?

Me and my boys--
the heavenly choir nine.

Ball players?

Sure.

In heaven?

Oh, there's plenty
of ball players in heaven.

What do you know?

But very few managers.

Oh. How do
your, uh, boys help?

Oh, they sort of
get behind your boys,

throw out a few quick hunches.

Who's on your squad,
the heavenly choirs?

We won't go into that,
but I don't mind telling you

that we have a team
batting average of .331.

Good club.

Not bad.

When your boys
played baseball down here,

did I know any of them?

Did I know you?

We might have
run into each other.

On what base?

Ha ha ha ha.

Come on. A guy's got a right
to know his own angel.

Just give me a hint.

What team were you with?
What position?

All right, lay off, Mcgovern.

Your broken-down ball club
is winning ball games.

What more do you want?
I'll see you around, huh?

Now, wait. Listen--

good-bye. Keep your nose out of
things that don't concern you.

All right, all right.
Don't go away sore, huh?

Sorry, Mr. Mcgovern.

Oh, that's all right.
Sit down, son.

Well, I told Minelli I'd
have dinner with him.

Hey, when you made
that catch today,

how come you were laying
so far to your right?

I don't know.

I had sort of a feeling

Johnson would hit it there.

A left-hander?

He never hit there in his life.

I don't know. Just
call it a hunch.

He's reading Shakespeare.

Go on!

The tempest. I had it
in English three.

He asked me to
sit down with him.

Yeah. This morning
he said hello.

I don't like it, boys.

It isn't natural.

He hasn't changed.

He's just charging
his batteries.

Waiter.

Yes, sir?

Did you do what I said?

Yes, sir.
This all right?

You're sure it's tough enough?

Mr. Baxter, this was cut
right from between the horns.

Here, sir.

Hey, Saul.
Yeah.

Pull up a chair.

Thanks, but I'd like
to digest my dinner.

You did all right
in the old days.

Remember how we
used to tear around?

I don't want to think
about the old days.

I don't want to think about you.

Do you mind?

Your steak all right, sir?

It's a wee bit tough,

but it has a very nice flavor.

When the pirates played
their next game in Pittsburgh,

it started out just like
any other afternoon.

But events were taking
shape in the bleacher section.

Some orphan kids, in on passes,

had come to cheer
for the home team.

It was a regular weekly event.

Who's pitching,
Mr. Smalley?

Martin, sister.

Won 4, lost 6.

[Snap]

Come on, Martin.

Stay in there and keep it high.

If he feeds it to modbury low,

he'll put it right in our laps.

Oh, dear.

Don't worry about
Martin. He's super.

Let's go, Marty!

Show 'em what you did in Boston!

Pass the peanuts, dear.

Fair!

Hey, ump!

Fair?

Fair ball?

Why, thou knave, thou dolt,

thou hast eyes but seest not.

You heard him.
He said fair.

Fie! Fie upon you
and a pox upon you, too!

Thou art blind,
thou black-livered bat!

Hey, Hamlet, blow.

All right, let's get it.
Come on.

Atta-boy, Joe.

Jennifer: The orphan kids
cheered for the pirates

all through the game,
but they were losing.

It was the sixth inning,

the score, 7-2 in favor
of the Phillies.

Things were looking bad
for the pirates.

Then suddenly it happened.

Look! Look at the angel
behind mandekic.

What did you say, dear?

And there's one
behind Ronson, too,

and Rothberg and rezende.

There's one
in back of everybody.

One what?

Angel.

Get her out of the sun.

Come along, Bridget.

Come along.

How do you feel, dear?

I feel fine.

[Crowd cheering]

There they are again!

Bridget, there are people

sitting behind you.

But I see them--angels.

The kid is seeing angels.

Ain't nothing to
what I've seen sometimes.

Look!

Shh! You'll get us
in trouble.

Bridget, that's enough.

But I see 'em, sister,
big as life--

in the outfield,
in the infield...

And there's one
sitting on the scoreboard.

Are you having trouble, sister?

Nothing I can't
take care of, thank you.

Do you want to leave
again and not come back?

No, sister.

Then let's have no more angels.

Jennifer: The pirates
won again, 10-7.

It was getting to be a habit.

On the way out,

I ran into Smalley,
the park cop.

He told me about the little girl

in the bleachers,

an orphan who saw angels.

I had my story for the day.

* take me out to the ball game *

* take me out to the fray *

* la da da da da da *

hello, Joe.

Good morning.

* la da da da Dee Dee Dee *

* buy me some peanuts
and crackerjack-- **

yes?

Uh, I'd like to
see a little girl.

Come in, please.

What age?

Oh, uh, about 8, I guess.

That would be
third grade--my class.

Would you wait
just a moment, please?

Sure.

[Clack clack]

Children, there's
a gentleman here.

He's looking for a little girl.

They never adopt
them with glasses.

[Clack clack clack clack]

Why, Mr. Mcgovern.

I think she's the one.

I--

I'd like to talk to you.

I think you should talk

to some of the others, too.

We have some
very nice girls here.

I'm sure.

What is it, sister?
Mr. Mcgovern.

How do you do? I...

I came about the story
in the paper.

Yes. I read it.

Is this the kid that--

is she the little girl
who saw the angels?

I just want to ask her
a couple of questions.

Bridget, wait in my office.

Yes, sister.

Thank you, sister.

Mr. Mcgovern, will you
come with me, please?

Thank you.

I'm sister Edwitha,
mother superior.

How the paper got the story
I have no idea,

but I think it's best
for all concerned

that we just forget it.

Yes. Oh, sister...
Excuse me,

but you don't know
baseball, baseball fans.

Thing like this gets started,

it becomes a big megillah.

Oh, a megillah's
a sort of a--

federal case.

Yeah.

Go on.

Well, the fans want answers.

I'm the manager,

and I got to supply them.

A little girl sits
too long in the sun

without her hat on,

and she thinks
she sees something.

Surely you don't believe
they were angels.

Oh, me?

Would it do any harm
just to talk to her?

I don't want the child excited.

I won't. I promise.

Well, just one moment.

Oh, there's one other thing.

Yes?

In the seventh inning
yesterday afternoon,

when Rothberg was on third,

why didn't you try a squeeze?

They were expecting it.

Well, that's just it--
they were expecting it,

and they knew that you knew
that they were expecting it,

so you wouldn't pull it.

Why, it would be
completely unexpected.

Rothberg's fast.
He'd have made home easily.

Yeah. Well,

Rothberg happens
to have a bad ankle.

He hurt it in practice.

Oh, I'll light a candle for him.

[Doorbell buzzes]

Will you just go
along in and excuse me?

Hiya.

Hi.

Sit down.

You, uh...

Um...

You read this?

It says yesterday
you saw angels.

Did you?
Are you sure?

Did you ever see angels before?

Well, how'd you know
they were angels?

They looked like angels.

With wings?

Well, sort of like wings.

Not baseball uniforms?

Sort of like uniforms.

What color socks?

I couldn't see.
Their robes were too long.

How many were there?

One behind each player--
the pirates, I mean--

one on the scoreboard
and one in the bullpen.

Was there one behind me?

Uh-huh.

Is he there now?

Who's that?

That's Saint Gabriel.

Figures.

Now, about these, uh,
"sort of like uniforms."

Was there any writing
across the chest,

like New York, maybe,

or, uh, cardinals or Dodgers?

It wasn't a whole name,
just initials.

Well, what initials?

H.C.

[Gasps]

Heavenly choir.

What?

Uh, nothing,
nothing. Uh...

Uh...

Now, uh...

About these other kids.

They didn't see anything, huh?

Just you?

Why was that, do you suppose?

Maybe because I've
been praying for you.

Me? You've
been praying for me?

The whole team.

How long have you been praying?

Ever since you hit the slump.

You must have been praying
pretty hard, huh?

Oh, yes, every night
and every morning,

and...And sometimes
during arithmetic.

That's very nice.
Thanks.

Well, you needed help,
didn't you?

We sure did.

I prayed to
Saint Gabriel personally.

He's our patron Saint.

Good man, Gabriel.

What's your name?

Bridget white, 8 years old.

How long have you been here?

Eight years.

Oh. I, uh,

I have to shove off
now, Bridget.

It's been nice talking to you.

So long.

So long.

Oh, Bridget,
about those prayers.

Keep 'em coming, huh?

He's nice, isn't he?

No, no, no, you can't
see her. I'm sorry.

Now, please go away.

We won't hurt the kid, sister.

The whole story is ridiculous.

"No angels,
says sister Edwitha."

Can we quote that?

Don't you dare.

Sister.

Don't you print
that picture, young man.

Evening post, sister.

It's a beauty.

Well, hiya, Guffy.
How's the angels?

Look, let me out
of here, will ya?

How about a statement, Guffy?

No comment.
No comment.

Maybe he believes in them, too.

How about it?

Yeah. What are you
doing here, Guffy?

Where's your harp?

Lay off me, will you?

You want to know
about angels, ask her.

She wrote the story.
I'm getting out of here.

[Thunder]

Now what did I do?

Oh, nothing personal, eh?

[Doorbell buzzes]

Well, miss household hints.

What can I do for you?

You can listen
while I say I'm sorry.

Honestly, I had no idea

that story would
raise such a fuss.

If I had,
I never would have--

what a mess
this place is--

I never would have written it.

Your mistake was in showing up

at that orphanage.

The newspapers are going to make

a monkey out of you.

Goat, monkey--
I'm used to it.

If I were you,

I'd protect myself, Mcgovern.

Make a statement.

To you?

Why not?

Miss Paige,
you're ruining my carpet.

Oh, don't be afraid
of mud stains.

They're very easy to take out.

Here, do you mind?

Stuff them with newspaper,

turn on the oven,
and put them underneath.

What kind of a parrot is this?

It's a parrot.

Does it talk?

Yes.

Did you teach it?

Yes.

Scratch my head, please.

Well...

He's very polite, isn't he?

Why shouldn't he be?

What else does he say?

He says, "hello,
how've you been?"

And "good-bye."

Joe, say good-bye
to the lady.

Good-bye.

That's wonderful.
But doesn't he ever...

Well, with you teaching
him, doesn't he--

a man only swears
when he's annoyed.

Joe never annoys me.

We're very happy
together, Joe and I.

Well, frankly, I don't
see how you can be

in a shambles like this.

How do you ever find anything?

Look, there isn't even a place
for a guest to sit down.

There might be an idea in that.

Well, you can't get rid
of me just yet,

so you might as well
make the best of it.

You know,

I've always wondered
what baseball players

did on rainy afternoons.

Entertain lady reporters
who drop in uninvited.

Well, you're not
being very entertaining.

What about the story
of your life, Mcgovern,

while my shoes are drying?

Were you always so tough?

Even when you were little?

You had a boyhood, of course.

Tilton falls, Wisconsin.
I looked you up.

Sounds like a nice little town.

It was--four pool halls,
five saloons,

and the biggest pants
factory in the state.

Did you play ball there?

I sold peanuts.

Your folks weren't
very well-off, huh?

My folks did fine. They
had one of the saloons.

One day, they gave you
a ball and a bat,

and that's how you got started.

Not exactly. I used
to throw snowballs

at the cop on the corner.

It was a long block
and a long winter,

so I finished up
a third baseman.

Any more "down memory Lane"
stuff you'd like?

No.

[Sniff sniff]

Are you cooking something?

My shoes!

Yeah, they're kind of crisp.

I said under the oven,
not in it.

Of all the stupid,
asinine--

shh! Not in
front of Joe.

Oh. How do you
suggest I get home?

Well, I could loan you
a pair of my shoes,

or I'll call a cab.

Where do you live?

Delaney street.

And how do I get to the cab?

I weigh 110 pounds.

When the cleaning woman
comes in,

tell her to
burn all the old papers

and put an airwick in the corner

to get rid
of that cigar smell--

I like cigar smoke.

And scour the ashtrays
with ammonia.

Oh, and if she wants
to take the ink stains

out of that
burgundy chair--

what chair?

Burgundy,
that's a color--

she can call me
at the office--

extension 1173.

Will you open the door?

You know, I could be
a big help to you.

Just what I always needed--

a girl with turned-up
shoes. 110?

115.

Yeah.

Here, take these
to Delaney street.

So if I took her
to the ball game

and we sat in the grandstand

out of the sun,

she wouldn't see any
angels, of course,

I'd write the story
just that way,

and that would be the end of it.

All right.
Bridget!

Bridget!

Ooh! This is Bridget white,
miss Paige.

Hello.

Would you like to go
to the ball game

with her this afternoon?

Can I?

Mm-hmm.

Will we speak
to Mr. Mcgovern?

Well, uh, we can wave.

All right, run along.

Comb your hair, put on a hat...

With a brim!

Jennifer: Bridget and I

got pretty chummy
during the game,

exchanging girlish confidences.

The boys in the press box

kept showing up
with a steady stream

of hot dogs and Eskimo pies

and asking Bridget
if she saw any angels.

Uh, vanilla ok?

Oh, thank you.

Mac, I think that's enough.

How's it going, honey?

The, uh, angels working yet?

Uh-uh.

Well, you'll let us
know, won't you?

Oh, uh, Jenny,

how about dinner after the game?

Oh, thanks, but I'm testing

a new recipe tonight.

Well, have fun.

Bye.

Do you live alone?

All by myself.

That must be nice.

Why?

I mean, instead of having

a lot of kids
around all the time.

Kids are such a bother,
aren't they?

Mmm...It depends.

I always say,

why not live alone
if you can live alone?

Take like if you had someone

around the house all the time.

You couldn't even
come to the ball game

when you wanted.

Not unless I
brought her with me.

What's the matter?

They're warming up.

Who?

The angels.

Oh, now, Bridget, no!

There they come,
out on the field.

There's no one, nothing.

Look!

Don't you see?

You couldn't possibly
see anything down there.

Do you hear me, Bridget?

But I do. There's one
behind every player.

Oh, no! Come on,
get out of here quick!

Hey, they're going!

Hey, Jenny! Jenny,
wait a minute!

Honey! Jenny, Jenny,
what's the story?

Look, fellas. We're
leaving, that's all.

Did you see any angels?

How many were there, Bridget?

Nine!

Nine?
Nine?

Reynolds here.
Take this--

"the angels were
out in force today,

said little
Bridget white."

Wait in here, please.

All right.
Thank you.

I hear the kid's sick.
What did you do to her?

Nothing. I think it was
just the ice cream

and the four frankfurters.

Nice food for a kid.
You ought to know better.

Why did you want
to drag her out there

in the first place?

I didn't drag her.
She was dying to go.

I only wanted to help.

Help? Fine help.

"Mcgovern's angels
strike again."

What are you trying to do--
laugh me out of baseball?

Mr. Mcgovern,

I haven't laughed
since the day I met you.

Were they boy angels
or girl angels?

Boy angels.

Did they look like people

or did they look like
the pictures of angels

on our little prayer cards?

Prayer cards.

Sore, huh?

What color robe did they wear?

White, eh?

You're sure they were angels?

They weren't groundkeepers?

Or they were peanut vendors?

Angels.

[Door opens]

Sister, Mr. Mcgovern
and miss Paige,

they'd like to see Bridget.

Oh, please, can they?

I don't see why not.

Organically, she's fine.

Just a little upset
stomach is all.

But, uh, emotionally,
I'm not so sure.

You really think
that we should--

he can do no harm.

He's an excellent man.

Bridget, I don't
want to alarm you,

but we're going to
call another doctor.

He won't give you any medicine.

He'll just ask you
a few questions.

You understand, don't you?

Sure. You want to
find out if I'm wacky.

Doctor, I'm sure
it's not necessary.

Only a few minutes, please.

Now, don't you go upsetting her.

How you feeling?

Much better, thank you.

You just ate too much junk, huh?

It was the nicest time

I ever had.

I brought you a present.

Oh, thank you.
You shouldn't have.

Aw, it's nothing.

It's beautiful!

Yeah. Well,
it jumps, too,

if you just squeeze
this little thing here

at the end, see?

[Squeaking]

It talks, too.

Imagine.

Well, it's just
a kid's kangaroo.

I'll take it back
and get you a real toy.

No. Please.
I love it.

But will you come

to see me again anyway?

Yeah. Sure. Every day
as long as you're sick.

Miss Paige, too?

Me, too.

Now, I think you'd
better get some sleep.

Yeah. Good night,
Bridget.

Every day while I'm sick?

Of course.
Sure.

Good night.

Jenny: The story became
a national issue.

Everyone was talking
about angels.

There were newsreel interviews
with baseball celebrities.

Bayles: Joe DiMaggio,
Yankees center fielder.

What do you think, Joe?

If Mcgovern needs
any extra angels,

we'd be glad to give him
a couple of ours.

Ty Cobb,

one of baseball's
all-time greats.

What do you think,
Mr. Cobb?

Well, all I can say is

that this game of baseball
has certainly changed.

Bayles: Songwriter
Harry Ruby,

composer of three little words,

America's number-one
baseball fan.

I predicted this
at the start of the season

when I said,
"heaven help the pirates."

Bayles: Bing Crosby,

part owner of
the Pittsburgh pirates.

You know, I think this
angel stuff's pretty sound.

Lots of times folks think
someone's watching over them.

Thanks.

Jenny: Whenever the team
was in town,

Mcgovern paid a visit
to the orphanage,

and he made good his promise
to bring a new present.

Now if you just
go back to your seats

so everybody can see...

Just turn this knob, see?
Now watch.

Announcer: He's got
that chin lock again.

Yanking his head back.

The monster is trying
to put on a leg crusher.

Very educational.

Yeah.

When the pirates
climbed into third place,

the newspapers
laid off Mcgovern.

The angels
were completely forgotten.

Tell him to bunt.

Wait.
Let him hit away.

Stay in there, Lou.

Safe!

That was a nice switch.

Just a hunch.

[Whistling]

* happy birthday to you *

* happy birthday to you **

happy birthday, Mcgovern.

What goes on?

A party!

But how did you know?

Bridget, she looked it up
in the sporting news.

Parrot:
Hello.

Hiya, Joe.

I didn't throw out

a single thing you'll ever miss.

Don't you like it?

Sure.
Sure, I like it.

Hey, a cake and everything.

Jennifer made it.
I turned on the oven.

What do you know?
A regular birthday party.

I haven't had one
since I was 10.

Believe me,
that's a long time ago.

It sure is.
The book said--

never mind.

I tell you what,

on your birthday,
I'll give you a party.

When is it?

Well, I'm not sure exactly,

but the home picked October 5th.

That's the only day
they had open.

Look, you help me
in the kitchen,

and, Bridget,
why don't you give Joe

a piece of this celery, huh?

That-a girl.

I hope you don't mind.

She's getting such
a kick out of it.

Why should I mind?

Would you hand me
the salt, please?

Hey, what smells?
So good, I mean.

Uh, ragout of veal
a la brignole.

Oh, fancy stuff, eh?

Mm-hmm. You eat
too many steaks, Mcgovern.

Change will be good for you.

Yeah, brignole smells great.

You know, I often wonder

who dreams up all these things.

Uh, Mrs. Harkrider Oates
of Rawson Avenue.

Is that so?

Her favorite recipe.

Guaranteed to keep men at home.

Now the butter, please.

Well, we won again today,
didn't we?

Yeah, we did.

I suppose you realize

we're only five games
out of first place.

I've heard some talk.

Isn't it wonderful?

Just a few weeks ago,
we were last.

Wonder how it happened.

Angels.

Shh! The parsley,
please.

The green stuff, the parsley.

Right there.
Thank you.

I have a different
theory, you know.

I think it's you.

Me?

Sure. The pirates
are playing as a team.

Why don't you take
your apron off, honey?

'Cause you're not
losing your temper

and yelling your head off

and swinging on people.

Sister Edwitha says,
"never swing on people.

You should turn
the other cheek."

Well, there's two schools
of thought on that.

My school recommends
getting in the first punch.

Sister Edwitha says,
"turn the other cheek."

You see?

Ok, I suppose she knows best.

Now, you can carry this.
Bridget, you take the peas.

Now, be careful.
They're hot. There.

Look out!

You'll sit on the presents.

Oh!

That one's mine.

I'll save this till last.

Well.

Not too loud, is it?

No, no.

Yellow and green's not loud.

Now...

Well, what do you know?
A baseball.

It's not just
an ordinary baseball.

Jennifer sent it
into the clubhouse,

and all the pirates
signed it. See?

All except Mr. Hellman.

He was in the shower.

Imagine, an autographed ball.

That's just what I wanted.

Well, come on, let's try this.

Well, what's the matter?

Well, what about grace?

Grace who?

Oh, grace.

Yeah, grace.

I almost forgot.

You--you lead off.

Oh, lord, make us truly thankful

for these, thy gifts,

which we are about to receive.

Amen.

You know, I'm hungry.

I hope I fixed enough
of everything.

Cooking for myself the way I do,

I'm never exactly sure

how much I should--

oh, don't eat that.

No. No, it's...Delicious.

Oh, no, don't! It's poison.
I never in all my life--

Mrs. Harkrider Oates
of Rawson Avenue

is certainly going to hear
from me in the morning.

Keeps men at home, does it?

Maybe she means permanently.

I can't understand it, though.

Unless that olive oil...

Could it have been rancid?
How long have you had it?

What olive oil?

The olive oil in the cupboard,

in the bottle in the cupboard.

Neat's foot oil.

What?

Not olive oil, neat's foot oil.

I rub it in my glove.
Keeps the leather soft.

What's it doing in the cupboard?

I got to put it someplace.
It's wonderful for gloves.

It certainly doesn't
do anything for veal.

The peas are fine.

You can't make a meal on peas.

Oh, I just feel awful.

I should have looked
at the bottle.

I always look
at the bottle--

now, wait, now,
don't lose your head.

This is my birthday,

and I'm not going
to have it spoiled

by Mrs. Harkrider Oates
of Rawson Avenue.

How's that?
All right?

Well, well, well.

This is a cozy little scene.

Birthday party?

Yeah, yeah.
Keep moving, huh?

I don't like to intrude,

but may I have your autograph,

Mr. Mcgovern,
on a check?

I got the tab today
from my dentist.

Repairing bridgework--
$180.

Just send me the bill,

first of the month.

I think you'll like this.
Here, look--

will you stop?

I thought you'd like to see

what you're paying for.
I beg your pardon.

Look, blow, huh?
Please?

Uh, let me explain.

You see, a few weeks ago,

Mr. Mcgovern,

in his usual charming,
inimitable style,

put the slug on me.

Didn't you, Guffy?

Would you step outside

for a moment?

I would be delighted.

Mcgovern...

Oh, sure, sure.
Don't worry.

Yeah? What?

Look, I'm having
a little birthday.

Don't louse it up.

You had a couple of drinks.

You feel good.

I feel fine.
Great shape.

Sure. Be a nice guy.
Go on home.

Why should I be a nice guy
for you? Give me one reason.

Nobody's bothering you tonight.

Nobody will, and if any certain
party tries to bother me,

I'll hook him in the mouth.

Now, wait a minute.

[Woman screams]

I'll take her in.
You stay where you are.

You'll have to carry her.

Up we go.
Come on.

Come in.
Please.

Right up to bed now, dear.

Good night.

Good night.

That's a sweet kid, that one.

Did you have a good party?

Nicest time I ever
had in my life.

Happy birthday.

Thanks.

Uh, what happens

to the kids here, sister?

What do you mean?

Do they stay here forever?

Doesn't anybody ever come around

and, you know...

Adopt them?
Occasionally.

Not so often as we'd like.

They all seem to want
tiny babies now.

I'd be afraid.

Were you thinking
of adopting Bridget?

Who, me?
No, I just, uh...

I...

I couldn't, could I?

Well, it would present
certain problems.

There's no law
against it, of course,

but the court usually
doesn't permit children

to go to unmarried people.

Yeah, that would be a problem.

I'll pray on it.

Thanks.

It's not that I couldn't afford

to keep her.

I got some dough saved.

I just never had anybody

to spend it on.

A kid like that
ought to have somebody,

like a father.

Not that I'm any shining
example of behavior.

There have been some times...

And baseball's
a pretty tough game,

and a lot of people
say that I...

Well, maybe you've heard.

I sat in back
of first base one day.

Well, I don't have to tell you.

That's all over.
Believe me.

It's a thing of the past.

I keep my mouth shut

and my hands in my pockets.

No language.
Not even one fight.

You see, sister,

we were in this restaurant,

and there was
this fella--

good night, sister.

Good night, Mcgovern.

Wait for me, will you?

She's really a sweet child.

She just adores you.

Have you ever thought
of adopting her?

Who, me?

I don't see anybody else
around here.

Don't be silly.

What would I want

with a kid around the house?

Besides, a thing like that

presents certain problems.

Well, this is where I live.

What kind of problems?

Problems.

Oh.

It's been a wonderful evening,

especially the main event.

I'll bet that's
the first black eye

you've had in years.

You travel around with me,
I'll fix you good.

Is my face on crooked
or something?

Well, yours is.

You better go home and fix it.

And don't believe
that beefsteak routine.

That's just superstition.

What it needs is
hot and cold applications,

preferably Epsom salts.

Look, you make a move,
I'll make a move.

Huh?

A long time ago,

I played third base
in Minneapolis.

There was a girl
in St. Paul,

the nicest girl I ever knew.

We did a lot of talking,

and I made some big plans,

but they didn't include
a certain shortstop,

the one she finally married.

It was quite a blow.

I can imagine.

I guess I've been taking it out

on everybody else ever since.

Good night.

Good night.

Sister, is it always right

to turn the other cheek?

Certainly. Why?

Mr. Mcgovern did
last night,

and he got sloughed
something awful.

The meek shall inherit
the earth.

Jenny: I never missed
a game after that.

In September,
the pirates met the giants

in the final series.

They needed three straight games

to win the pennant.

Steady there! Make
him pitch to you!

Two and two, boy.
Make him pitch to you.

Guffy!

How do you feel?

It's nothing.
I don't feel a thing.

I did it again, didn't I?

Why'd I have to go
and wave at you?

It's nothing.
We won, didn't we?

Where am I having dinner?

I mean, where are you
having dinner? I mean, us.

You're not going
anyplace except home.

I've got a cab.

Hiya, Guffy.
Nice catch.

You ok?
Any permanent injuries?

No. I've been hit in
the head 20 times.

I feel fine.

Did you see
any angels out there?

I've never seen an angel,
but I talk to one regularly.

What did you say?
You speak to angels?

Certainly.
Can we quote you?

Why not? An angel
sits in back of me

in the dugout every day.

Where are they running?

Let's get out of here.

Uhh!

Sister?

Hmm?

Isn't it wonderful?

I see them,
and Guffy talks to them.

"Believe me, gentle listener.

"There is more to this
than meets the eye.

"Mr. Mcgovern's antics
on the field and off

"are no longer
a source of amusement

"but a basis
for serious inquiry.

"His latest peccadillo,
an admission to the press

that he converses
with angels--"

oh, for heaven's sakes!
You were hit in the head.

You could say anything.

"...is unworthy
of the high position

"he now commands,
proof beyond doubt

"that Mr. Mcgovern is,
to put it charitably,

"emotionally unstable
and guilty of conduct

"detrimental
to organized baseball.

"Mr. Mcgovern's supporters

"claim his peculiar statement

"was made after being
hit in the head

with a line drive,

therefore, he is not
responsible."

He admits it.

I would like to ask
Mr. Mcgovern a question.

Was he responsible
seven weeks ago in Boston?

How about it, Mcgovern?

Seven weeks ago,

were you or were you not
of sound mind and limb?

Beside me in the studio
tonight is a man

who can answer these questions.

Would you tell us
your name, please?

Patrick J. Finley.

What is your occupation,
Mr. Finley?

I'm a groundkeeper

at braves field up in Boston.

Will you please tell us
what you saw in braves field

about seven weeks ago?

Well, I seen
Mr. Mcgovern.

What time?

I don't know.
After the game.

Where was he?

Sitting on second base.

And what was he doing?

He was talking.

Talking to whom?

I don't know.

There wasn't anybody there.

And when he was sitting
on second base

talking to somebody
who wasn't there,

where was he looking?

Up.

What did he say?

I don't know exactly.

I couldn't hear everything.

I was in the dugout.

But one thing he said was,

"I have a right

to know the name
of my own angel."

He said that?
"My own angel"?

Yes, sir.

Then he said again,
"don't go away mad."

Thank you, Mr. Finley.

I ask you, ladies and gentlemen

and Mr. commissioner,

is this the act of
a normal, reasonable man,

to hang around second base
at night and talk to angels?

Much as I hesitate to say this,

I think that Mr. Mcgovern
should take a long, long,

perhaps permanent rest.

The pirates
chalked up a victory today,

squeaking through
by one lone run,

playing uninspired ball.

They came to life
in the final frame

to sneak a run
over the plate--

nice going, boys!
What's eating you?

So we win a ball game.
So, hurray.

I tell you, it's making me
jumpy--angels, angels.

Every time I go after a ball,

I'm afraid I'm going to trip
over something.

Shut up.

Did you watch Mcgovern out there

looking over his shoulder
every two seconds?

It's scary.
For all we know,

this guy is off his rocker.
He might even be dangerous.

Lay off Mcgovern.

I don't care if he's
talking to fence posts.

He's trying to be a right guy.

Your job is to play ball for him

and keep your mouth
shut, understand?

Ok, Saul.

Here he comes.

Announcer: And here's a flash
that was just handed to me.

Arnold P. Hapgood,
commissioner of baseball,

will arrive
in Pittsburgh tonight.

He is here to investigate
Guffy Mcgovern.

Well, that sounds like
bad news for Pittsburgh.

With the pennant
hanging on tomorrow's game,

I'm afraid the pirates
and Mr. Mcgovern

are in a pretty tough spot.

The pirates played
mighty shaky ball

out there this afternoon.

With this hanging
over their heads,

there's no telling
what they'll do.

It's about my boys.

They're getting nervous,
not that I blame them,

but if it keeps on like this,

they're apt
to come apart tomorrow.

I thought maybe you might
have something to suggest.

Nervous, huh?

Well, I wouldn't worry
too much about it.

It's only natural
at a time like this.

How are you doing?

Me? Great.
I'm in the pink.

One game away from a pennant,

and they're trying to
throw me in the loony bin.

I don't sleep nights.
I don't eat.

Just to make matters worse,
I'm fresh out of pitchers.

That so?

You know. I used four
this afternoon.

Who do I start tomorrow?

Yeah. Well, I wouldn't
worry about it.

Excuse me.

You got nothing to worry about.

You're all set.

With me,
it's a little different.

Yeah?

Yeah. Martin's got a bad arm,
Clark's on the sick list,

and Hellman's an old man.
He wouldn't last two innings.

Yeah. Saul's pretty tired.

Even I couldn't make him
look good.

16 years is a lot of pitching
in the major leagues.

It's his last one.

Next season they'll want
to send him to the minors.

That won't make any
difference to Saul.

He won't be around next season.

We're signing him up
in the spring.

Saul?

Yeah. Everybody gets to play
up here sooner or later.

But Saul...

We were friends.
At least we used to be.

Hellman was
a great pitcher once.

He pitched a two-hitter
in a world series, you know.

Yes, I know.

I was there.

Excuse me.

Good night.

Good night, Guffy.

This way, commissioner.

Commissioner, could you give us

a few words about tomorrow?

Gentlemen, I have an appointment

with all parties concerned
tomorrow morning at 9:00,

so until I hear
all the evidence,

I have nothing to say.

The pirates are playing
their last game of the season

tomorrow afternoon
for the pennant.

I'm aware of that.

Do you think is this
the proper time

to conduct the investigation?

Any time is the proper time

when the situation warrants it.

Baseball is for the people
who support it.

My desk is piled high
with letters.

From New York, sir?

New York and other places.

In other words,

you think Mcgovern
has flipped his lid?

The hearing takes place
tomorrow morning.

Oh, but,
Mr. commissioner...

Jenny: The hearing was
like a courtroom trial.

The investigation
hinged on two points.

One--are there such things
as angels?

And two--is it possible
to talk to them?

How long have you been

practicing psychiatry,
Dr. Blane?

18 years.

You've just heard
Mr. Mcgovern's account

of how a group of angels
helped his ball team.

As a psychiatrist,

how did his story impress you?

Belief in celestial beings

is a carryover
from mankind's ignorance

and fear of his environment.

Originally,
man worshipped the sun,

the moon, stones, trees.

But with the rise of religion

as we know it today,

man felt the need
of a closer alliance

with a supreme being,
and so he invented the angel.

Invented?

Precisely.

Just as a hurt child
will run to its parent,

so will a man turn for comfort
to a belief in angels.

And when this belief
takes the form of, uh,

actual conversation with angels,

what is your
professional opinion?

Well, I'd prefer
not to say, but...

I'd be happy to see you,
Mr. Mcgovern, in my office.

[Laughter]

Uh...

Ahem.

I think that'll be all, doctor,

and thank you.

[Whispering]

Uh...

Mr. commissioner.

Yes?

I'd like to introduce

three witnesses for the defense.

Yes, yes, of course.

Uh, gentlemen.

Mr. commissioner,
I do not know

any of these gentlemen.

My name is Guffy Mcgovern.

Dr. Eustace Danforth,
Trinity church.

How do you do?

Rabbi Allan Hahn, temple Israel.

How do you do?

Father O'Hoolihan,

church of our lady,
queen of the angels.

Commissioner:
Uh, gentlemen,

just make yourselves
comfortable.

Mr. commissioner?

Uh, I suppose you gentlemen

know the general idea
in back of this inquiry?

Well, what do you think?

Uh, do you suppose
there might be angels?

Right to left.

Lead the way,
Dr. Danforth.

To deny the existence of angels

is to deny the word
of the holy Bible,

which is specific
on the subject.

From the ancient Hebrew text,

we have the words

b'Nai Elohim--
the sons of god,

kedoshim--
the holy ones,

and mala--

mala--

how do you pronounce that?

Malachim.

Thank you, rabbi.

Malachim--
the messengers.

All of these may be
translated "angels."

You'll check me
on that, rabbi Hahn?

It was an angel who guided
the children of Israel

to the promised land.

"Behold, I send
an angel before thee

to keep thee in the way."

In psalms, again

we find an angel--
the protector of man.

"The angel of the lord

"encampeth round about them
that fear him

and delivereth them."

Mcgovern:
Father o'hoolihan?

Seeing as how there are
whole coveys of angels

flitting through the pages
of the holy scriptures,

both old and new testaments,

I don't see how I can
get out of saying

I believe in them.

I imagine the
commissioner does, too.

Oh, please, just
leave me out of this.

Uh, Mr. commissioner...

Yes?

Father, would you also believe

that, uh, they play baseball?

What's that?

Well, Mr. Mcgovern
has testified

that, uh, angels
helped his team.

Well, now, considering
all the great wonders

that angels have performed,

I'd be much surprised

if they couldn't play baseball,

providing, of course,
they had a mind to.

But would they?

With all respect to
your cloth, gentlemen,

is it likely that
one of your angels

or a group of angels
would lend support

to a man like Guffy Mcgovern?

Is it possible that angels

would aid and comfort
such a man?

"If a man have a hundred sheep

"and one of them
should go astray,

"doth he not leave
the 99 in the mountains

and go and seek that
which is gone astray?"

Matthew, chapter 18, verse 12.

Besides, the lord
isn't as small-minded

as some of us mortals.

And now,
Mr. commissioner,

I had a short talk

with rabbi Hahn in the elevator,

and we both discovered

we're seeing
a ball game at 1:30,

so if you don't mind...

No, of course not.

Uh, you'd better hurry.

Thank you, sir.

Thank you, gentlemen.
Thank you.

If Dr. Blane
would care

to see me in my office,

I'd be very happy, indeed.

[Laughter]

Hey, fellas...

Where are you sitting?

[Both laugh]

Anything further that you'd
like to add, Mr. Mcgovern?

Nothing.

Well, gentlemen, I have listened

to both sides of this argument,

and frankly, I'm baffled.

I'm sure we'd all
like to believe in angels.

I know I would.

But if only I had just one
tiny bit of concrete evidence.

However...

[Door opens]

Mr. commissioner?

Yes?

This is Bridget white.

She wants to testify

for
Mr. Mcgovern.

Mr. commissioner,
a minute ago

you were all set
to make a decision.

Let's get on with it.

I don't want anyone
hammering away at this kid.

Sister, will you please
get her out of here?

If the commissioner

wants to hear about angels,

he ought to ask someone
who's seen them.

Mr. Mcgovern, what
are you afraid of?

All right, you just
sit right down here.

Uh...What is your name,
little girl?

Bridget white.
8 years old.

Oh, yes. And where
do you live, Bridget?

Saint Gabriel's home
for orphan girls.

You believe in angels,
don't you?

Doesn't everyone?

No.

No, they don't.

But I saw them...Twice.

And where did you think
you saw these angels?

In the ballpark.

They were helping the pirates.

You're quite sure about that?

You wouldn't, uh,

just make up a story, would you?

Oh, no.

It's bad to lie about anything.

But if you lied about angels,

I guess that'd be real trouble.

Mr. commissioner,

may I question the witness?

Certainly, certainly, certainly.

Now, Bridget, when you, uh...

When you saw your, uh, angels,

what were they doing?

Well, there was one

standing behind
Mr. Mcgovern.

But, uh, you didn't see him

talk
to Mr. Mcgovern.

No. But I know
he must have.

Why?

Because Mr. Mcgovern
said so.

And you think that
one of your angels,

one of these
heavenly messengers,

would talk to a man
like Mr. Mcgovern?

Of course. Any angel
would be proud

to talk to a nice man
like Mr. Mcgovern.

[Laughter]

Commissioner:
Quiet. Quiet, please.

Is that all, sir?

Mr. commissioner,
I hope

we're not going to accept this

as testimony.

The child is
obviously prejudiced.

What are you talking about?

I will decide
what is evidence here.

Isn't it true that you tried

to adopt this child?

Haven't you recently
made a declaration

of this intention
to the orphans court?

Suppose I did.
What about it?

Why, Mr. Mcgovern...

There's nothing definite yet.

I don't even know if the court

will let me have her.
You don't just walk in

and adopt a child.
There's problems.

Oh, there's no
problem here, Guffy.

Nevertheless,

you wanted to adopt her.

Oh, that's nice.
It's touching!

The little girl

who saw the angels

now stands up to testify

for
Mr. Mcgovern.

But isn't she actually

testifying for papa?

Ooh!
Guffy!

Stop that!

Jenny:
Guffy!

[Thunder]

Commissioner: Order!

I said order.

Jenny:
Don't do it, Guffy!

[Shouting]

Jenny: Stop it!
Guffy, stop it!

Guffy! No!

[Shouting]

Jenny:
Guffy, don't!

Make him stop!

Guffy, don't!

Gentlemen, I think...

In view of the facts...

All things considered...

This case is dismissed.

What's with Guffy?

Read about it!

He got all his marbles?

Sure, sure.

He was ok all the time.

He ain't no more crazy
than I am.

Hey, Guffy, here you are!

[All talking at once]

Come on, Mcgovern,
what do you say?

That was a nice little
fracas you staged, Mcgovern.

Quite a show.

Look, you heard
what the fella said.

What else could I do?

You had no right to slug him.

I warned you about that twice.

Ok, keep your shirt--
keep your wings on, huh?

You talking to me?

Just stick to
your driving, will ya?

I only hit him once or twice.

You completely destroyed
his bridgework.

All right. I'm sorry.

Well, you ought to be

because when you busted
that bridgework,

you also busted our agreement.

What do you mean?

We're through with you.

From now on, you're on your own.

Please! Don't make jokes!

I didn't say nothin'.

It's no joke.
We're all finished.

Look, a pennant's hanging
on that game today.

You can't walk out
on me now. I need you.

Kind of a shame, isn't it?

But don't worry.
You've been on your own

a lot of times in
the last eight weeks.

I don't like to be on my own.

I'm not happy on my own.

You used to be.

But I'll let you in
on a little secret--

you've learned something, Guffy.

You don't know it yourself yet,

but you've learned

that there's more
important things in life

than winning ball games.

We're a little proud of you.

Don't be proud of me.

Just be at Forbes field
at 1:30.

That's all I want.

Sorry, can't make it,

and tell that cabdriver
to slow down.

He's making me nervous.

It's a dirty trick.

Who'd ever think that an angel

would stoop to such
a lowdown, dirty--

so long, Guffy.

No, listen!

Good luck, boy.

Wait! Come back here
a minute, will you?

[Horn honks]

How much do I owe you?

Nothing!

[Tires squeal]

You decided who's
going to pitch yet?

The boys in the
press box are asking.

They want to know

who's going to pitch.

Hellman.

What?

I said Hellman!

Let's do it, boy.

[All shout at once]

Batteries for today's game--

for New York...

Barberry catching,

toley pitching.

For Pittsburgh...

Baxter catching,

Hellman pitching.

No! Not Hellman!

Hellman?

And they say Mcgovern's
not crazy. Ha!

Take care of
the bullpen, will you?

Yeah, sure.

Do you see anything, honey?

Not yet.

Umpire:
Play ball!

The giants come to bat now

with the score still
nothing to nothing.

Hellman has managed

to hang on for four innings,

but it's just
a question of time.

[Crowd cheering]

Strike!

And it's over
the left-field wall

for a home run.

Safe!

There's another hit.

A very close decision
down there, but he's safe.

See any angels yet?

You're out!

You're out!

Out at first for a double play

to end the inning.

Score--New York, 1,
Pittsburgh, nothing.

Mr. Hellman coming in
off the mound.

Looks like a very tired man.

Come on, Vince, boy,
let's go to work!

Get a hit, boy!

You're out!

All right, only one away.

Lay into it, Tony, boy!
Lay into it!

Ball.

All right, Lou,
get in there, boy,

let's go! Let's go!

Come on now, Lou!

Knock it out of the park!

Mandekic pulls up
safe at second.

Two away, and
rube Ronson coming up.

Rube hasn't had a hit yet.

All right, rube,
let's get some runs, boy!

A long, hard-hit ball
that bounced off

the scoreboard for a home run.

Atta-boy, Ruben!

That's one for Milwaukee high!

Let's get out there
and hold them! Come on!

How's it going?

I guess I can get
three of them out.

Here we are, at the top
of the ninth inning,

the final frame
with the score still

Pittsburgh, 2, New York, 1.

Hellman is taking
the mound again

for Pittsburgh,

though he seems
to be tiring badly.

This is the giants' last chance

to tag him, and maybe they will.

One away, boy, one away!

Hellman's touching
that arm again.

Seems to be giving
him some trouble.

Either it's pain
or those giant averages.

Umpire:
Take your base.

And he takes his base,
hit by a pitched ball.

Well, Hellman seems to be
losing control in there.

[Cheering]

Jumping high in the air

and spearing the ball.

Two out, a man on first.

They're getting to him,
Guffy. He'll never make it.

Ball one!

Spectator:
Take him out!

Boo!
Boo!

Take him out!

Get him out of there!

Take him out!

Two men on now,
first and second.

Two away.

The fans are yelling
to take Hellman out.

Come on, take him out!
Get a pitcher!

Throw the bum out!
Get him out of there!

Take him out!

Get him out of there!

Take a walk back!
Take a walk!

Safe!

You're safe!

The throw was not in time,

and all the runners are safe.

Three men on base, two out.

And those pirate fans
are really mad now.

A hit could win this ball game.

Spectator: Go on,
Hellman, good-bye!

Get him out of there!

Go to the showers, bum!

Get him out of there!
Take him out!

Yank the bum!
Yank him!

Mcgovern has finally
made up his mind

to take Hellman out of the game,

but, uh, it may be
a little late.

What do you think, Saul?
Can you do it?

Well, I'm tired,

but I'd sure like to try.

Spectator: Get that bum
out of there!

Get a pitcher!
Get a pitcher!

It's your ball game.

Ladies and gentlemen,

Mr. Mcgovern
has just pulled

the bonehead play of his career.

He's leaving Hellman in.

Take him out of there!

Coming up to the plate
now is dobbie roscalla,

who leads the league
in runs batted in.

If he bats one now,

Mr. Mcgovern had
better leave town.

Strike!

A swing and a miss.

He never connected
with that one.

Strike!

Strike two.

Roscalla steps up
to the plate again.

It only takes one to hit it.

Hellman's taking his time.

He's a very tired
pitcher right now.

Thanks, Guffy.

For what?

You're getting a good man.

Well, there you have it.

Uh...Final score--

Pittsburgh, 2, New York, 1,

and, of course,
a pennant for the pirates.

I hope
Mr. Mcgovern's angels

are pleased with
the way things turned out.

Are you happy up there,
little angels?

Why don't you shut up?

It was really true, wasn't it?

Somebody must've helped me...

Not only on
the ball field, either.

Look what I got.

I wonder who they were.

Walter Johnson...

John McGraw...

Christy Mathewson...

Eddie Collins...

Lou Gehrig...

Babe Ruth.

Great names.

Great guys.

Play ball!

All right, come on, hit it!

[Thud]

They're on now.