All language subtitles for Brians.Song.1971.1080p.BluRay.x265-RARBG

This is a story about two men,

one named Gale Sayers,
the other Brian Piccolo.

They came from different parts
of the country.

They competed for the same job.

One was white, the other black.

One liked to talk a lot.

The other was shy as a 3-year-old.

Our story is about how they
came to know each other...

fight each other...

and help each other.

Ernest Hemingway said that
every true story ends in death.

Well, this is a true story.

Yo! heads up!

- Here you go.
- Thanks.

Gale Sayers?

Yeah.

Hey. Brian Piccolo. We met up in Buffalo

in that all-American game last June.

Sorry I didn't remember.
I'm not very good at that kind of stuff.

Oh, golly. Hey, that's all right.

I can see how you might forget,
but, well, I sure couldn't.

That was a heck of a talk we had, man.

I said, uh, "I'm Brian Piccolo.

I hear we'll both be playing
for the Bears."

and you said--
Well, I'll never forget it.

You said, "Uh-huh."
Just like that. "Uh-huh."

Whenever I'm feeling kind of low
and depressed, well,

I think about that advice.

A lot of guys wouldn't have talked to me at all,
but not you.

You just said, "Uh-huh."
Just like that. Right out.

Uh-huh.

Where do I go to check in?

Oh, that building over there.
That's where Halas is.

Uh-huh.

Hey.

Did you ever meet him before?

Talked to him on the phone a couple of times.
That's all.

Yeah. Well--

Look, let me give you
a little hint, all right?

See, he's, uh--
I mean, he's a good guy and all that,

but he's a little deaf in his left ear.

And a little too vain to admit it.
You understand?

So you gotta stand on his right-hand side
if you want him to hear a word you say.

Uh-huh. Okay. Thanks.

You bet. Hey, rookies gotta stick together.

Pardon me. Can you tell me the way
to Halas's office?

Thank you.

Come in.

Well, Sayers.

- I'm George Halas.
- Yeah, I know.

Everybody knows who you are.

You're just in time to give me
a hand with this thing.

My good luck picture.

That's the first professional team
I ever played on.

Decatur Staleys in 1920.

How's your leg?

I understand we--

I understand you hurt it.

- It's fine. One hundred percent.
- And your head?

My head?
Uh, nothing wrong with my head.

Good. Because being in that all-star game
put you three weeks behind everybody else.

Ain't gonna be easy.

NFL ain't supposed to be easy.

That's right.

All I can promise you is a fair shot.

But you're gonna have
a lot of company.

John Arnett, Ralph Kurek, Brian Piccolo.

Gonna be plenty...

- Gonna be plenty crowded out there.
- Well...

Fair shot is all I want.
Can't ask more than that.

Well, we plan using our backs
as receivers this year.

Did you do much--
Did you do much pass catching when--

when you were in college?

Uh, well, yes, sir. I did.

Uh, usually, uh, safety valve stuff.

Yeah. Well, I like to keep
my backs in a pattern.

That is, unless the other
team's blitzing.

And that's something
you're gonna have to watch.

Those linebackers.
You gotta make sure they're not coming in.

- I know. Especially with--
- What the hell are you doing?

I-- I don't know what you mean.

Well, I know you got moves,
but you don't have to show them to me now.

You're bouncing around here like a--
like a pauper in a pay toilet.

Well, I was just trying to get on the side
of your, uh, good ear.

Good ear? What are you talking about,
"good ear"?

Uh--

Uh, Brian Piccolo, uh,

said that, uh...

He, uh, said, uh...

Uh--

Hey, Sayers.
We're gonna have to stop meeting like this.

My wife's starting to get suspicious. Heh.

Hold it down. Hey.

Some of you cats that pulled in today...

haven't had a chance to hear
what's expected of you.

So hold it down and let me talk.

Now, you new guys are gonna get
a playbook tomorrow.

It's like the Bible.

Now, you lose your playbook,
it's gonna cost you $1,000.

- I heard this thing twice already today.
- One, zero, zero, zero.

Lose your playbook, it costs you $1,000.

Second time, they cut off your right foot
and feed it to the defensive platoon.

Would you cool it, please?

Man, I am just trying to be helpful.

- Like you helped me with Halas?
- Mr. Sayers!

I was just mentioning the fine for talking
at team meetings. Did you hear what I said?

No, I did not.

Well, the fine for talking at team meeting is $25.
And it's just been laid on you.

Can you dig that?

Yeah.

Sorry, man.

Hey, hold up. Whoa.

It's been brought to my attention
that unless Sayers was saying his beads,

it might be fair if Mr. Piccolo
would sing us a song.

Say like maybe a fight song.

Wake Forest, right, Mr. Piccolo?

Yeah. That's right.

You can't let it get to you.
It's just a question of style. Style, I say.

Ahem. Excuse me.

♪ Oh, here's to Wake Forest ♪

♪ A glass of the finest
Red ruby rhenish filled up to the brim ♪

♪ Her sons, they are many
Unrivaled by any ♪

♪ With hearts o'erflowing
They will sing a hymn ♪

♪ Rah, rah! ♪

♪ Wake Forest, rah! ♪

♪ Oh, alma mater's sons we are ♪

♪ We'll herald the story
and die for her glory ♪♪

Come on, sit down!

All right. Let's go to ten, nice and loud.

Start off slowly. Ready, exercise.

One, two, three, four.
One, two, three, four.

Dig, dig, dig!
What the hell's wrong with you?

You're not trying! You're not trying.
You make me sick.

Those uniforms were just loaned
to you guys, you know that?

We'll let you keep them
as long as you play like Chicago Bears.

The minute you start tiptoeing around,
we'll want those uniforms back, gentlemen.

Now, 42 trap. Sayers up.

Way to go, way to go, Gale!

That's more like it.
Good execution, Charlie. That's it.

Two, ninety-two.
Two, ninety-two. Set. Hup!

All right. All right!

Ready, set, go.

Ready, set.

Ready, set, go.

Go, go, go!

Man.

I think it's working.

What's working?

I'm getting you overconfident.

Ready, hup, hup. Hup!

Plant. You gotta plant your right foot, boy.
That's dumb.

Yeah, uh...

Just practicing the halfback option.

Well, see, I haven't got the lock
that you have on making the team,

and Halas said that they're gonna use
that option a lot this year.

And, uh, it's not one of my strong points.
Understand?

Try going to your left.

They don't look for a right-handed guy
to throw going to his left.

Okay. I will. Thank you.

Hey, Sayers. I did say thank you.

I know.

Well, that usually calls for a response.
Like, uh:

"You're welcome," or "How's your mother?"
Something.

"How's your mother?"

Well, she's very fine.
Thank you for asking.

You're welcome.

Hup, hup!

- Okay, first cut. Where do we start?
- Backfield.

- Brenner. Daniels.
- Cut. Cut.

- Sayers?
- Heh, heh, are you kidding?

- Charles?
- Shoot him. Justifiable homicide.

- What about Piccolo?
- He's too slow, and he's too light.

But I don't know, Ed.
He hangs in there like a terrier.

- Let's keep him till the final cut.
- Okay.

Hup, hup!

Hup!

Piccolo, you bone-headed spaghetti eater!
That was fake draw, screen right.

What the hell do you do
on fake draw, screen right?

Well, on a fake draw, screen right,

I pick up the linebacker, if he's coming.

Unless it's Butkus, then I simply notify
the quarterback to send for a priest.

All right. Knock it off.

Don't encourage him.
Let's run that again. Come on.

- We're not holding this man up.
- I know we're not.

That's why we're here.

Don't tell me about the fool,
because I was there!

- You talk like-- Come in.
- The problem is...

- I saw him!
- We gotta get pressure

- from this man to hold us up.
- He's not giving him pressure!

He didn't at the time! Hello, Gale.

Sit down.

You know Ed McCaskey, J.C.

- I'll call you back on it, all right?
- Want some iced tea?

Yeah. Please.

There you go.

I'll tell you what we want to talk
to you about, Gale.

See, I'm, uh--

Well, I'm an old-timer in a lot of ways.

At least that's what
some people keep telling me.

But I don't think it's all that common
for a man of my age to...

well, to be used to the way things are.

To be comfortable with things.

What it comes down to
is that J.C. had a notion here,

and Ed seems to think it's a good idea.

And I guess maybe we are due
for some changes around here.

You want me to play flanker,
not running back.

Heh, no, no, no.

No, it's not that simple, Gale.

It's J.C.'s idea, and yes,
I did agree with him.

This is 1965,

and we'd like the Bears to room together
according to position, without any regard to race.

So we'd like you and Brian Piccolo
to room together.

That's all?

That's what this is about?

- Is that all?
- Yeah.

You had me worried.
I thought it was something really--

This is something, really. A white man
and a black man rooming together on a team--

That's never been done before.

You're gonna be called
a Tom by some blacks...

and uppity nigger by some whites.

When we go on the road, man,
I'm talking about Atlanta, Houston,

Miami, New Orleans.

It ain't gonna be no better in Detroit
or Minnesota or San Francisco

or any other town we play in.

You gonna rock the boat, Sayers,

and there's people out there
that's already seasick.

What J.C. is saying
is that there may be some pressures.

Severe ones.

Now, what do you say?

Hi. Gonna be rooming together.

- Says who?
- Who else?

That's terrific.

Sort of a shame he couldn't ask me
how I felt about it, isn't it?

Look, you want me out?

Nah.

I don't want you out.
Stay. I guess I'm just...

steamed at the old man for not putting me
in that scrimmage this afternoon.

That your, uh-- That your wife?

- Yeah.
- Pretty.

- So's yours, and the little girl.
- Thanks.

Supposed to call her tonight,
tell her how I'm going.

I guess that might be the shortest
phone call in history.

Maybe not.

Pick.

They wouldn't assign us to room together
unless we both made the team.

Ah...

That's right, isn't it?

Uh-huh.

- Come on. Let's go call our wives.
- Wait, I just called--

That was just practice. This is for real.
Come on!

Out you go!

Congratulations on making the team,
gentlemen.

- Well done.
- You know, Coach Halas kind of frowns on hazing

- of new men.
- But now that you made the team,

it's like you're one of us!

Welcome to the Chicago Bears!

Pass from Butkus to Sayers

complete for a touchdown for the Bears.

Beautiful game.

Is playing in the NFL any easier
than you thought it would be?

My first game. I'm not exactly an expert.

J.C. Caroline says

he hasn't seen anybody carry the ball
for the Bears like that since Willie Galimore.

The blocks were there.

That's not what you said last night.

You called the offensive line the, uh,
seven blocks of Silly Putty, I think it was.

Pick.

You're Brian Piccolo.

Sure, uh, that's right.
Piccolo. P-I-C-C-O-L-O.

You two are the only black and white player
rooming together on the team.

Uh, any problems so far?

Not as long as he doesn't use the bathroom.

- Heh, heh.
- Pick.

Hey, uh, Gale, when you run,

do you think about what you're doing,
or do you just do it?

- I just do it.
- Well, start thinking about it, will you?

I wanna play some too.

- Better save it. Heh, heh. Anyway, so--
- Ha, ha, ha.

Concannon calls this trap play, see?
You know what a trap play is?

Um, uh, yeah. I think so.

A trap play is when all
the linemen go one way,

and hopefully the defense goes the same way,
and if they do,

see, there's a big hole, and if they don't,
well, it's bad news.

Anyway, Concannon calls this trap play,

and, uh, it's beautiful 43 yards--
Wasn't it 43?

- I think--
- And Halas sees he's tired,

and, uh, sends me in,
so I go in, he comes out.

Concannon figures he's gonna
get really foxy, you know.

Concannon is...

He says, "Same play."

Very same play.

Trap play is also called a sucker play,

because it makes the defense look real bad
when it works.

And defenses do not like to look real bad, see.
Makes them kind of surly.

Anyway, all the linemen go this way,

and it's like I am looking at a team portrait
of the Los Angeles Rams.

Hey, Deacon, Merlin.
How's the family, Rosey?

I was afraid to get up.
I figured not everything was gonna come with me.

You've never seen anyone so black and blue
in your life.

It's like I'm rooming
with a colored player again.

Gale told a joke!

The stone face from Kansas speaks.

All right. Hey, Chicago! Chicago!

Sayers speaks! He speaks.

Hey, Black Magic.

Listen to this letter I got.

"You must have been raised with pigs to stay
in the same room with one of those darkies.

You must not have been taught anything
when you were a boy.

You must have crawled out
from under some slimy rock."

- Is that all?
- Except the usual:

"Love, Mother."

Magic, I think I'm gonna
write you a speech.

What kind of speech?

An acceptance speech.

Rookie of the year. You can't miss.

And I gotta give a speech? Heh. No way.

The man we're honoring tonight was a
two-time all-American at the University of Kansas.

He was the top draft choice
of the Chicago Bears of 1965,

and three times during the course of the season,
he gained 100 or more yards.

Perhaps his best individual
performance came last December...

- All right. Go ahead. From the top.
- All right.

I wanna thank you all for this honor,

but I really think it's not right
to give it to one man.

Uh, football is a team sport.

And, uh--

Here he is, rookie of the year.

Start from the top. Look up.

Gale Sayers!

Uh... Ahem.

I'd like to thank you all for this honor.

Though it's not really right--

Thank you.

Who'd believe it?

I mean, who would ever believe it?

Dumb.

All right. Let's go, on the line.
Davis. Turner.

Ready, set, go.

Seely, Riles.

Ready, set, go.

O'Bradovich, Caroline.

Since when does the defensive lineman
have to race the defensive halfback?

You're not racing me.
You're racing the clock.

I ought to have a handicap.

Well, you said the defensive backfield
was your handicap all last year, O.B.

Aw, shut up. You're still a rookie to me.

Cut it out.

Pick, get back in line. Ready, set--

- Hey! You just get in?
- Yeah. I would've been earlier,

but my plane got fogged in in Detroit.

You look like you're in pretty good shape.

I worked hard all winter.
You get a chance to talk to Linda today?

- No. Why?
- Thought you might've heard.

Joy's expecting again.

- Hey, that's great.
- We think so.

- If it's a boy, we'd like to name it after you.
- No kidding.

- It's got a real nice ring to it.
- Ready. Set. Go!

Spade Piccolo.

Last season is history.

You're gonna run and hit
and hurt and run some more.

All right, let's go.
Forty-two trap. Piccolo up.

Brian, that's the way to go!

See, Sayers,
that's why you will never make it.

Pizza has magical properties

that give Italian guys a lot of speed,
you understand?

- Oh, yeah. A lot of great Italian running backs.
- That's right, there are.

There's Leroy Kellian, Lennie Morenelli.

- All them guys. Hey, J.C.
- Hey, Brian.

- That Sunday's lineup?
- Yeah.

What's the backfield?

Concannon, Ralph Kurek and you.

Come on, Magic. Pizza's gonna get cold.

Come on. Let's go, there!

You got him now!

Bears' ball.

First and ten on the San Francisco
42-yard line.

- Come on, Bobby! Let's go.
- All right, let's go, Bobby!

Yours, Gale. Twenty-eight toss.
And on three.

All right, let's go. Come on.

- Let me help you.
- No.

- Gale, it's just so good to have you home.
- It's good to be home.

Can I get you anything?

Nope. I'm fine.

It's almost lunch time.
Would you like a sandwich or something?

No, I'm not hungry. You go ahead though.

Well, I left the kids at Joy's,
so I guess I'd better go pick them up.

- Will you be all right?
- Yeah.

- You sure?
- Yes! I'm sure.

♪ Their sons, they are many ♪

♪ Unrivaled by any ♪

♪ With hearts a-glowing
They will sing a hymn ♪

♪ Rah, rah! ♪

♪ Wake Forest, rah! ♪

♪ Old alma mater's sons we are ♪♪

That you, Magic?

Yes, it is. Thought you'd never get here.

What are you doing down here?

Now, that is not a bad act.
But Peg Leg Bates does do it a little better.

What is that thing supposed to be?

That is not supposed to be
anything other than what it is,

which is a leg-lift machine.

- What for?
- What for?

Well, uh, getting that knee back in shape
is not gonna be a take-it-easy proposition.

Well, if you're afraid,
I mean, that's understandable.

I'm not afraid.

You ought to be afraid, Gale.

I am not afraid. I'm just tired
of being bugged by reporters, Linda, you!

Hey, you know,
you are a real charmer, Sayers.

An absolute saint.

- Look, maybe you think it's a real friendly thing--
- Hey. You can stick that in your ditty bag too,

you dumb jackass.

You know, Gale, when, uh...

when I was in high school...

I was one of the best backs in the state.

Unfortunately for me,

the best back in the state,
Tucker Fredrickson,

went to the same school.

The colleges used to come down
and watch us play.

And, uh, ol' Tuck, he wound up at Auburn,
and I wound up at Wake Forest.

Good school, nice place. But, uh--

Well, not exactly center ring.
You understand?

So I worked my tail off at, uh, Forest.

My senior year...

I led the nation in rushing and scoring.

I mean, I led the entire nation.

So I go look for a pro team,
and I pick the Bears.

Now, who else comes to the Bears?
Mr. Sayers.

Big guns, big school.

I'm number two all over again.

Well, ol' buddy,

I'm number one guy now.

But for all the wrong reasons.

Unless you come back 100 percent,

well, people are gonna say...

Piccolo got in on a pass.

Lucky break. See,
I don't want it like that.

I'm gonna whip you, Sayers.

But you gotta be at your best,
or it won't mean a thing.

You're not gonna be one second slower
or one degree weaker.

I am gonna work your tail off
to get that leg back in shape.

For my sake.

You got that?

Now for sports.

In Los Angeles, the Chicago Bears
trimmed the Rams by a score of 17 to 16.

Quarterback Jack Concannon
was eight for 14 passing,

and the running game was ably
manned by Brian Piccolo,

who gained 105 yards in 14 carries.

Piccolo was awarded the game ball.

Also on the West Coast,
the San Francisco Forty-niners--

- Hello.
- Dr. Fox. This is Brian Piccolo.

How's he doing?

Pretty well, Brian, I think.
Though it is boring

going through all those exercises
all by yourself.

It's drudgery and it's painful.
A lot of people just give up

when they're alone in that situation.

Four. That's good, babe.

Five!

Ah! No way.

Now, don't bone me, man.
Come on. Hang tough.

Five more and that's it
for tonight.

Come on. Five more. Get tough.

That's six.

Seven.

Get it up. Eight.

No way. No way.

I can't...

Can't make it, huh?

Nigger. Chicken nigger.

Oh, Pick.
Don't make me laugh, please.

"I know what I'll do." Ha, ha, ha!
"I'll call Gale a nigger,

and he'll do all of them reps,
he'll be so mad!"

Ha, ha, ha, it's too much!

Nigger, nigger.

Lay off. What was I supposed to do,
call you a wop?

Now, that would make me mad.

What are you guys doing?

You wouldn't believe it, baby, but he--

Brian tried to call me a nigger!

First man to the stand for a beer.
All right?

You're on.

I think I-- I owe you a beer.

I think...

I owe you...

a lot more than that.

Ah.

Two beers, please.

You're healthy.

Yeah!

What do you think,

training camp
is some kind of a country club?

Is that what you think?
Because no man's assured of a job around here.

And if you think you are, you got
another think coming, gentlemen!

Get them up. Get them up.

Get them up. Get them up. Come on, Pick.
Get them up!

Come on, Billy. Get them up.

Ow! Ow!

Come in.

- Hi, Brian.
- Oh, hello, coach.

- Mind if I come in?
- Oh, no. Not at all.

- Gale. How's the knee?
- Fine. Real strong.

Excuse me, coach. If you wanna talk
to Gale here for a while,

I'll just, uh, go down--

No, actually, I want to talk
to the both of you.

Well, how things look this year, coach?

Good. Real good.

Matter of fact, there's one boy
I'm very impressed with.

I wouldn't be surprised to see him
replace you as number two halfback.

Because I'm gonna make you
number one fullback.

Hey, Pick! You and me, starting backfield!
What do you say?

Coach, I didn't think it was possible,
but I think you found a way to shut him up!

Touchdown, Piccolo.

Sixty yards and a touchdown
for Gale Sayers.

- Hey, Pick?
- Yo.

You know you got a 4.3 rushing average?

No, but hum a few bars,

I'll see if I can fake it for you.

Oh, Pick.

Touchdown, Piccolo.

Two hundred and forty-one.

Holloway.

Holloway, 251.
Piccolo.

Hey, Gibs!

Scrimmage tomorrow teach us
some new trick plays?

Only trick I'd like to give you
is how to keep some meat on you.

You're down another pound.

What's there is all choice.

Two-oh-six and a quarter.
Skinniest fullback in the league.

Gibs, I don't know
what's the matter with you.

First you sweat all the fat off us,
then you complain we're too thin.

- You're a very hard man to please.
- Get out of here.

Sayers.

Ought to tell your Italian buddy
to load up on the pasta.

Maybe he just wants to be quicker.

Ten pounds lighter?
Half a second slower in the 40-yard sprint?

It ain't working.

Come on, Brian! Hit that hole! Hit it!

What's wrong with you, Piccolo?

What is it, Gale? Is he really hurting?
Gotta move! He's not hitting.

Come on, baby, come on. We gotta get it.

Come on, baby, come on!

- Nice block.
- Thanks.

Must be 90 million pounds
of pollen in the air.

You ought to get Dr. Fox to give you
something for that hay fever.

- Huh?
- He did.

The only thing I'm allergic
to is Nietzchke.

Come on! Stick it in their ear!

Good game, kid.

Looking at you,
I'd never know we won the game.

I don't feel very much
like I'm a winner about now.

Why not?

Gale, I'm sending Brian Piccolo
back to Chicago.

He's not gonna finish
the road trip with us.

Ralph Kurek's gonna start next week.

Why?

Because I've always had a policy on this team,
right from the start.

The best players play, no exceptions.

Right now, Kurek's the best player.

A lot of guys take a while to get started.

And Piccolo has never been
one of those guys.

He's always been in shape,
willing to give a hundred percent.

But he's not doing that anymore.
That's what worries me.

I don't know what it is.

Could be something physical,
or it might be an emotional disturbance.

- Something with his wife, children.
- Pick? Come on!

Well, something's taken the edge off of him.
I gotta find out what that something is.

For his sake as well as the team's.

- When's he gonna find out?
- Abe's telling him now.

That's why I didn't want you to go back
to the hotel right away.

Ah.

I wouldn't want to be
in Abe's shoes right about now.

I wouldn't want to be in your shoes
about ten minutes from now.

Who'd believe it?
I mean, really, who'd believe it?

Halas just wants you to see the doctor.

Halas don't know what he wants.

Gibron's his boy.

You should have heard that lecture.
Wants me to patch things up with Joy.

I say things are fine with me and Joy.

He just smiles that Father Flanagan
smile of his,

and tells me I shouldn't be afraid
to level with him.

- Dear Abby in a jockstrap.
- Pick, be fair.

Dr. Fox says--

Hey, don't give me no crud
about our great team doctor.

Wants me to get a physical for the cough.
No allergy.

"What is it?" I say.
He says, "Well, it could be a virus.

Could be a staph infection.
Could be any one of a thousand things."

Like being treated
in a damn Chinese restaurant.

Two from column A, three from column B.

He's just trying to help.

Yeah.

Yeah.

Well, I--

I guess you're right.

It's all so pointless, Gale.

I mean, I know perfectly well
what's wrong with me.

Gale, I, uh-- I think I'm pregnant.

Yeah.

Hey, coach.

Which end of the field you want me to take
if we lose the toss?

Come in, Gale. Close the door.

We just got a call from the hospital.

Brian Piccolo has cancer.

Oh, God.

They've scheduled an operation
for tomorrow morning.

An operation to do what?

Gale.

They're gonna have to remove
part of Brian's right lung.

The doctors have no explanation.

It's just something that Brian
carried around inside of him all his life.

What kicked it off, they don't know.

Whether or not they got it in time...

well, I'm afraid they don't know that either.

Who's gonna tell them?

I'll tell them.

No.

I'll tell them.

You, Gale?

That's right, me.

I'll tell them.

Let's go.

Let me have your attention a minute,
fellas.

Come on over here.

Gale has something he wants to say to you.

Gale.

Uh...

You, uh...

all know that...

We hand out a game ball to...

the...

outstanding player.

Well, I'd like to change that.

We just got word...

that Brian Piccolo is...

that he's sick, very sick.

And, uh, it looks like, um...

he might never play football...

again.

Or...

for a long time.

And...

I think we should dedicate ourselves...

to, uh...

give our maximum effort...

to win this game...

and give the game ball...

to Pick.

We can all sign it...

and take it up...

to the hos--

Oh, my God!

Fantastic! Could you believe it?

Sayers, I mean, you've got some moves
on the field,

but in the locker room,
you are one big klutz.

Now, listen to me.

Listen, now.

When you dedicate a game to someone,

you are then supposed to go out
and win it, idiot.

You know, Pat O'Brien never said,
"Let's blow one for the Gipper."

Heh, heh, man, you is so bad.

We probably would have won the game
if Concannon had called that trap play more,

but he sort of hates to call it
without you in there for the repeat.

Well...

- Gale.
- Thank you.

Thank you.

Mmm. Beats ham hocks,
don't it?

Ahh...

Hey, anybody wanna see my scar?

- Out. Out, now. No discussion. Out.
- What? Why?

What's the matter? We just got here.

Thank you, gang. See you later, guys.
Thanks for coming.

- You just gonna lay there?
- Hey, J.C., hang on to this, will you?

Later, Pick.

Oh, babe, uh, take Gale down
and have him

give that little girl
his autograph downstairs.

A little girl I met the day I came in.

Had her operation the same day I did.

Told her I'd get her your autograph.

You don't mind, do you?

No problem. I'll be glad to.

All right. You go.

- It's time now, Mrs. Piccolo.
- Thank you.

I'll be right back.

Won't you?

May I help you?

My name is Mrs. Piccolo.
My husband's a patient on the third floor,

and he told me about a little girl,
Patti Lucas,

who wanted this gentleman's autograph.

Uh, Mrs. Piccolo,
Patti isn't with us anymore.

Oh. Well, do you have a home address?

- Mrs. Piccolo, Patti's--
- My husband wanted her

to have the autograph very much.

Come on.

Mrs. Piccolo, Patti's dead.

She passed away early this morning.

Nothing wrong with that knee,
I'll tell you.

Congratulations, Dr. Piccolo.

Yeah.

You know what, Joy?

I've been thinking.

With Gale healthy and Ralph Kurek healthy,

I'm gonna have a real tough time
getting back in that lineup next year.

So I was thinking,

what's so difficult about being a kicker?

I mean, I was just wondering if it was
something you could teach yourself. Huh?

Because you don't need

a great amount of wind or stamina or size.

Well, what do you think of my brainstorm,
old gloomy Gus?

Heh, well, I don't know, Brian.

I mean, I'm no expert
on kickers and things.

You just ran an end run
Red Grange would be proud of.

Don't make fun of me, Brian. I'm scared.

- Well, what of?
- "What of"?

You can't be serious.
You know perfectly well what of.

No, I don't.

I swear to God I don't, honey.

Now, look, I'm, uh--

I'm no idiot.

This thing I got's bad. I know that.

But, uh, why, it's just a detour, Joy.

I'm not gonna let it stop me.

I'm just not. There's no way.

I got too much to do yet, Joy.

Pick it up! Pick it up, you dummy! Gale.

Now, Mr. Piccolo, calm down.

"Calm down"? How can I calm down?

You'd think the ball was wearing
a white sheet.

Well, I was gonna catch it,
but when it started coming down, I said to myself:

"I wonder what Pick would do
in a situation like this,"

and dropping it seemed to be the answer.

- Well, at least you won the game.
- That's right.

Yeah. And you didn't dedicate this one to me,
though, did you?

Nope. Dedicated it to Butkus.

- Why?
- Because he threatened us.

Heh. How are you doing, Pick, seriously?

I, uh-- I'm, uh...

I'm hanging in there, Magic.

Just doing what they tell me to do.

Hey, listen.

You do me a favor, huh?

You got it. Name it.

Call Joy, will you?

When she left here tonight, she, uh...

Well, she was really down.
I never saw her that down, you know?

Uh-huh. I'll call her
as soon as I get back.

- Thanks, I appreciate it.
- Okay. Bye.

Phone call for Mr. Sayers. Lady says
it's an emergency. She seemed very upset.

- I'll take it.
- I hope I did the right thing.

I'm sure you did. Thank you very much.

- Gale.
- Thank you.

From Joy Piccolo.

I know it's an awful thing to ask you to come back
here in the middle of the night, but--

It doesn't bother us,
so don't let it bother you.

Joy?

Why don't you just say it?

They found more of the tumor.

They, uh--

They told me this morning...

that they want to operate again.

I was going to tell Brian...

but I-- I just couldn't, Gale.

I mean, I don't know whether or not
he can take the disappointment.

And if he can't...

I know I can't.

The, uh...

the doctor is going to tell him
in the morning...

and if you could be there, Gale...

it might help.

I'll be there, Joy.

- What'd you try?
- End run.

Oh, Lordy.
I had my linebackers in a blitz.

All right.

Well, did you gain or what?

Come in.

Oh, I'm sorry if I'm disturbing anything.

Come on in. Not at all.

I can beat him later.
What can I help you with?

Well, I know this is a bother at a time like this,
Mr. Piccolo,

but hospitals have rules and regulations,
you see.

- I need your signature on this.
- What is it?

Well, it...

The doctor has been here, hasn't he?

- He's talked to you, I mean.
- No, why?

Oh, well...

- I'll stop back a little later.
- No, wait.

What would the doctor have to say to me?

Mr.--

Talk to me, Magic.

Um...

The tests show...

There's more of the tumor
than they thought, Pick.

They have to operate again.

- So if you'll just sign this consent, Mr.--
- Uh-uh.

But, Mr. Piccolo--

I said no, man. Are you deaf?

Mr. Sayers, can't you talk to your friend?

Mr. Eberle...

I think I'd rather talk to you.

Uh...

Brian is a professional athlete,
Mr. Eberle.

A professional gets
into a habit after a while.

He gets himself ready for a game,
mentally as well as physically.

Because he knows
those two things are all tied up together.

And there's a clock inside...

and when the game starts...

he's 100 percent, mentally and physically.

Now, what Brian is saying,

is that you're scheduling the game
before he can get ready.

Now, couldn't it wait until
over the weekend?

- Well, yes, it could, but--
- Then let it.

First thing Monday morning, Mr. Piccolo?

I'll see you then.

- Thanks, Magic.
- No sweat.

It looks like I scored a touchdown.

Mr. Piccolo, we're gonna put you
to sleep now.

That, uh, couldn't be...

the worst choice of words
I've ever heard in my life.

The winner of this year's

George S. Halas
most courageous player award:

Gale Sayers.

I'd like to say a few words about a guy I know,
a friend of mine.

His name is Brian Piccolo...

and he has the heart of a giant...

And that rare form of courage which allows him
to kid himself and his opponent:

cancer.

He has the mental attitude which makes me proud
to have a friend who spells out courage,

twenty-four hours a day,
every day of his life.

Now, you flatter me...

by giving me this award.

But I say to you here and now...

Brian Piccolo is the man of courage
who should receive the George S. Halas award.

It's mine tonight...

and Brian Piccolo's tomorrow.

I love Brian Piccolo...

and I'd like all of you to love him too.

And tonight, when you hit your knees...

please ask God to love him.

Hi, Magic.

How are you doing, Pick?

Oh, I'm...

I'm hanging in there.

I heard what you did at that, uh...

banquet last night.
You know, if you were here, I'd kiss you.

I'm glad I'm not there, then.

Hey, Gale, they, uh, tell me you gave me
a pint of blood. Is that true?

Yep.

That explains it, then.

Explains what?

I've had this craving for chitlins all day.

I'll be there tomorrow.

See you then.

All right.

I ain't going anywhere.

Gale.

How is he, Linda, really?

Hurry, Gale. Please hurry.

Brian, Gale's here.

Hey, Black Magic.

So bad.

A racist is what you are, man.

A bigot from head to toe.

You better believe it, man.

How are you doing, Pick?

Oh...

It's, uh, fourth and eight,

and they, uh...

they won't let me punt.

Go for it, then.

I'm trying, Gale.

Jesus...

Jesus God, I'm trying.

Hey, uh...

Remember when...

you got me with those mashed potatoes?

You deserved it.

The way you sang that dumb fight song.

And that 32 trap play.

Remember?

I'm...

I'm gonna...

I'm gonna get you next training camp.

I'm gonna get you.

I'll be waiting.

Hey, Gale, I'm--

I'm feeling a little, uh...

punk...

so I think I'll, uh...

try to-- try to get some sack, okay?

Okay.

I'll see you tomorrow.

Mmm. If you say so.

Brian.

I love you, Brian.

I love you.

Who'd believe it, Joy?

Who'd ever believe it?

Brian Piccolo died of cancer
at the age of 26.

He left a wife and three daughters.

He also left a great many loving friends
who'll miss him

and think of him often.

But when they think of him,

it's not how he died that they remember,

but rather how he lived.

How he did live.