All language subtitles for The Wonder Years.s01e01

Growing up, Mom and
Dad gave me "The Police Talk"

about how to handle yourself
around cops.

There was a presidential election

that created a racial divide,

and there was a flu pandemic
that they said

would kill a million people
around the world.

But it was 1968.

And that's the state our country was in.

Yeah, even the flu part.

This was the year I turned 12,

the age where you transfer
from boy to man.

Or as the old folks used to say,

"When a boy starts smelling himself."

The previous summer's race riots

had caused the first wave of
"white flight" to the suburbs.

As a kid, I didn't understand all that.

We had neighborhoods
that were just as safe

as the ones they were
developing outside the city.

There were teachers, veterans,
shop owners,

all united by pride, self-determination,

and the right to spank
any kid caught outside

after the street lights came on.

? There you go again ?

Daddy's song!

My dad was a music professor by day

and a funk musician by night.

In other words,
he was the baddest dude I knew.

Dean, I know you did not just come
into this house without speaking.

- But I heard...
- No "buts"!

How about "Hello, Mama. Hello, Daddy.

How are you?"

- I heard Daddy's song in Kwame's car.
- You did?

Dean, quit running your mouth
and turn on the radio!

- That's what I was trying...
- Boy, move!

Shh.

Be cool.

"Be cool" was Daddy's catch-all
advice for every situation.

Be cool.

Be cool.

Be cool.

- We on the radio, baby.
- ? I need you more ?

- ? I need you more ?
- Girl, you better be excited.

Your daddy's song is on the radio!

? Can you finally help me
to get to your lovin', oh ?

You were in the car with your boyfriend?

Dean was out after
the street lights came on.

- Hey!
- Ms. Handy was out.

I bet you Ms. Handy saw her out there.

You don't want Ms. Handy seeing you!

She gonna be talking about me
and my mothering.

This certainly wasn't
the first or last time

emotions would run high in our house,

but whether we were yelling or laughing,

if you turned your head just right,

it all sounded like music.

? I need you ?

? I, I need you ?

Subs by kinglouisxx
for www.addic7ed.com

One thing about being 12 that
hasn't changed over the decades

is that it's around 12
where you figure out

what your place is in the world.

But being in my family made that hard.

I'd never be as popular as my sister

or as athletic as my brother,

as smart as my mom or as bad as my dad.

That's the problem
with being the youngest.

By the time you're born,

all the good parts have been handed out.

Stupid play. I mean, Sheep #3?

Really?

But 12 was the age I was gonna
figure out what my bag was.

Dean, hurry up or you'll miss the bus!

My parents had high standards for us.

I appreciate it now,
and so does my bank account,

but at the time, man, it was annoying.

Did you practice like I told you to?

- Yes.
- Yes, what?

Yes, ma'am.

Nu-uh-uh-uh.

Like how she insisted on giving
me an ashy elbows/lips

and eye booger check

every morning before I left the house.

- Where are your glasses?
- I told you, I don't need them.

Wearing glasses in junior high
was basically

telling your cousin
to get a prom dress ready.

What'd I tell you about bothering
Bruce's things while he's away?

"Away" was the word my mom used
instead of "in Vietnam."

Coach Long said I needed a bigger glove.

Man, I just bought you that glove.

Is Coach Long gonna pay me for it?

He's just looking out for Dean.

Right, right. Is that why
he made you Team Mom?

Looking out for Dean?

Or because he's sweet on you?

Stop it. He just did it
'cause we work together.

Why would Coach be sweet on Mama?

Stay out of grown folks' business.

"Stay out of grown folks' business"

was usually code for something
about money, sex,

or the funny way Dad's studio
smelled after a rehearsal.

Let's go over analogies.

The SATs are important, Kim.

This stupid test has nothing
to do with real life.

You know, Bobby Seale and H. Rap Brown

didn't even finish college.

You're going to college.

I'm sure the revolution's gonna need

a good dentist or accountant.

Besides, what kind of
music professor would I be

if my daughter didn't go to college?

Bad enough my son doesn't have rhythm.

- Hey!
- Yet.

My son doesn't have rhythm yet.

You got to get at least a 1050
to get into Auburn.

- Auburn?
- Mm-hmm.

Plenty of good black colleges
out there, too, you know.

She can go to 'Skegee like us.

Better yet, Spelman.

No boys. It's a win-win.

For who?

Win. Win.

A lot of black folks like my dad

didn't feel like we needed
to mix with white people

to be better off.

But my dad put his money
where his mouth was.

He'd always hire the black doctor,

black accountant, the black plumber,

and often he'd have something
we'd call "black regret."

Gotta go!

Glasses or not,

I wasn't the most popular kid
in the neighborhood.

Thank God I had Cory.

'Sup, Dean? Give me some skin.

My best friend, Coach Long's son.

He'd figured out his bag
when we hit puberty

and he grew six inches of height

and six inches of hair where it count.

He was macho.

Hey, you got to tell me about that party

at Noddy's last night.

Was it really a makeout party?

Come on now, man.

You know it's not cool to kiss and tell.

Okay, but don't forget,
you were supposed to teach me

how to French kiss on a pillow.

Shh!

I'll tell you later.

That's our old school.

Shut down because of desegregation.

But we still hung out there sometimes,

mainly to girls about girls
and then girls and...

Wow, I really got distracted.

You know the girl that you see
for the first time

and everything slows down?

That was Lisa Jones.

Everybody had a crush on her,

but here comes my crush...

Keisa Clemmons.

She was perfect.

Hi, Dean.

Thanks for letting me borrow this.

You were right. It was great.

To this day, I can't smell
Vaseline and Tide

without being taken
right back to that feeling.

Tell her you want to start
going together, man.

- Don't be scared.
- I'm not scared.

I was so scared.

My plan is to stay best friends

until she realizes she likes me.

And I was an idiot.

Hey, stop it! Stop it!

Was this my opening?

My chance to defend her honor
and win her heart?

My...

You better give my propers!

- Say you're sorry!
- Stop!

Say it!

Man, she's tough.

I know.

I dig it.

Hey, fellas! What's happening?

Brad, the Pee Wee Reese
to my Jackie Robinson.

That is if Pee Wee Reese were Jewish

and Jackie Robinson
couldn't catch a fly ball.

Take a guess.

Dean's still afraid
to tell Keisa he likes her?

Film at 11:00.

Shut up, Brad.

What? I'm telling you,
she already knows.

How? Unless you blabbed.

She can tell by the stupid way
you look at her.

You look like a wet dream.

It's such a wet dream.

I do not look like a wet dream.

Okay, we clearly had no idea
what that meant yet.

Still, good burn.

- You guys have practice today, too?
- Yeah.

Who do you think would win if
our teams played each other?

We would.

But we only play teams
on our side of town.

Think about how boss it'd be
to have our teams meet.

- Yeah.
- Your dad's the coach.

He'll go for it, right?

Uh, maybe.

I mean, he watches "I Spy."

Cool. You ask your dad,
and we'll ask mine.

A scrimmage against some
all-white team from across town?

Hell, no.

But our friend Brad's on that team.

We go to the same school.

We should be able to play each other.

Do us both a favor, put all that energy

in learning how to catch a fly
ball without [bleep] your pants.

If a coach said that today,

he'd have to go to sensitivity training.

At least that's what they made me do

when I cussed out my son's team.

Hey, guys.

I came to take the measurements
for the team jerseys.

Mama!

Tell Coach we should play
a scrimmage game

against Brad's team.

Brad's asking his dad, too.

Why would you want to play
with a bunch of white boys?

- Exactly.
- Why does that matter?

Oh, it doesn't to us.
But trust me, it will to them.

How do you know if you don't try?

Isn't that what you're
always telling me?

For what it's worth, I met Brad's dad,

and he's our kind of people.

That still don't mean
I want some whitey pitcher

throwing at our boys' heads.

Well, let's not get to calling names.

Never mind that there were
teams called the Redskins,

Chiefs, and Savages
and no one batted an eye.

Look at it this way.

We want our sons to learn
to compete with them now,

or never learn
and then go out into the world

feeling like they're lacking...

like we did?

Okay, I'll talk to your friend's
dad and see what he says.

- Yes!
- All right!

All right, now...
now give me three laps.

For... For coming to practice too early!

Come on, get... get some laps in.

Y'all walking? Come on, hustle up!

Now that I'd figured out that my bag

was being "The Great Uniter,"

I couldn't wait to get started.

Hey, Mark. Uh, what's happening, Chad?

How's it going, Quentin?

Hey, Black Jesus, mellow out, man.

You're trying too hard.

It's okay.

My mom's making me wear these.

Pantyhose.

Yuck.

Yeah.

Yuck.

Anyway, your glasses are cute.

She'd just basically said I
looked like Billy Dee Williams

in my glasses.

This was the perfect time
to tell her that I've loved her

since I sat next to her on
the first day of first grade.

Keisa...

Hey, Four Eyes!

Can you look to my house
and tell me what's on the TV?

Now, no one in school knew
how old Michael Simms was.

Some people said he had a son
at another school.

Others said he'd already
done a tour in 'Nam.

Bullies back then benefited from us

not having Google to fact-check.

Shut up, Free Lunch!

Yo mama on free lunch.

Ooh.

What's all the fuss back there?

Somebody said "yo mama."

Now, that's something
that the black students do

that the white students don't.

You ought to be like these three.

Their parents send them here to learn.

Hey, she's not prejudiced.

But was she? In my memory, she was.

But she also gave some of us
black students extra attention

if she thought we had potential,

which may still have been racist.

I don't know.

But bringing people together

wasn't just about the white people.

It was also about black people
like Michael Simms.

I knew I could reach him, too.

- Ah!
- Think you're white, don't you?

- I could not.
- You talk white!

- You act white!
- Ah!

You even brought a lunch box
to school like you white!

That last one confuses me to this day.

Come on, man.

Told you it was a dumb idea
to try to talk to him, Dean.

Ah! So dumb.

Who was I kidding?

The world was always gonna be
full of Michael Simmses

and white people with lunch boxes.

Nobody was gonna listen to Sheep #3.

What kind of present?

I don't know.

Maybe that pearl necklace

I caught you staring at at Parisians.

Well, it's just one royalty check, Bill.

Be cool.

There's gonna be more
where that came from, baby.

What do you need, son?

Just wondering if Mama told you
we're playing Brad's team

from East Montgomery for the first time.

Why our boys gotta play their team?

It's the Barnstorming
Negro Leagues all over again.

Figures Long would be okay with this.

Coach Long was against it, too,

but then Mama talked him into it.

I think it's a good idea, and
I'm proud of Dean for trying.

Hmm.

It doesn't matter. He's not playing.

- But, Dad!
- Nope.

Too many good teams to play over here

and good parks, too.

- What's so bad...
- Are you talking back?

No, sir.

Then you better fix your face.

Well, whether or not he plays,
I still have to go to the game.

Right, because your office buddy
made you Team Mom.

I never say anything
about your work friends.

That's not fair, and you know it.

What's not fair?

Stay out of grown folks' business.

No.

Did you just tell us no?

Have you lost your natural mind?

Boy, what has gotten into you?

I wanted to tell them
about the kids on the bus

and the white kids at school

and Michael Simms and Mrs. Hodges

and that Kim went in Mama's
purse and snuck out last night.

But I realized it was
actually more than that.

What came out surprised me
as much as it did them.

I feel different everywhere I go,
no matter who I'm around.

And I know I'll always be different.

But when I'm with Cory and Brad
and we all feel different,

I finally get to feel
the same as everybody else.

That's why I want to play.

Brad would later tell me

that trying to make myself feel better

by making everybody feel
as uncomfortable as me

was the most Jewish thing I'd ever done.

Fine.

You two do whatever you want.

That was the first time
I'd stood up to my dad

and the first time I realized
just how scary it can be

to get what you want.

Let's go! Team captains!

Come on. Let's go.

When I saw me, Brad,
and Cory on that field,

with kids from my neighborhood

mingling with kids from
a world way across town,

united by something
we all had in common,

I was proud of what I'd done.

It didn't even matter who won the game.

Now, I'd find out much later
that Michael was only there

to steal Brad's bike,

but at the moment, it was validation.

It's a trip,

the little things that
you remember all your life.

Your first hit, your first kiss,

the first time your dad
lets you know that he sees you.

Well, I still hadn't had the other two,

but, boy, did that third one feel good.

Hey, he's not prejudiced.

Well, if he wasn't, then the ball was.

Come on. Front of the box.
Watch the fastball!

Back of the box! Watch the curve!

Front of the box! Look fastball!

Dean, back of the box. Watch the curve.

- Front of the box.
- Back of the box, Dean!

- Back of the box!
- Scoot to the front, Dean!

- Dean!
- Dean!

Dean Jeremiah Williams!

I don't know his whole... Dean!

- Dean!
- Dean!

Strike!

You'll get it next time, son.

- Come in, Dean.
- Stay deep.

No, no, no, no. C-Come in some.

Stay deep, Dean.

- Come towards me.
- Deep.

- This way.
- Away from me.

- This way.
- That way.

Dean!

All right, now, hands up! Weight back.

- Weight back, hands up, Dean.
- You saying the same thing I'm saying.

- Listen to your coach.
- Weight back, hands up.

- No, no, no, hands up first.
- That's not the same thing.

- Hands up first, then weight back.
- Weight back, hands up, Dean.

Strike three!

Bill, if you got a problem
with the way I coach, say so.

Be cool.

Be cool.

I thought instead of a new glove,

maybe Dean just needed
better instruction.

No. Well, listen, man.
This ain't no piano recital.

So you stick to the do-re-mi's

and I'll stick to the one-two-threes.

That doesn't even make sense.
It just rhymes.

Well, I could say the same thing
about your songs.

Oh, so you raggin' on my music now?

Well, I may be a musician,
but I still struck you out,

- let's not forget.
- You know what?

That was in sixth grade, and I
didn't hit my growth spurt yet.

- "Yet."
- Get the ball, Bill.

- You get the ball.
- Get the ball, Bill.

- You get the ball, Long!
- You get the ball!

If I get the ball,
you ain't gonna touch it!

This may not be the right time,

but, dude, your sister is choice.

- Shut up, Brad.
- You know what?

- I ain't scared of you no more.
- Bill.

What is wrong with you two?

You both know better than to be out here

showing your ass in front
of these white folks.

That was a universal rule

that cut across all classes
of black people,

but it was too late now.

We're so sorry.

We just heard what happened.

Heard about what?

Dr. King. He...

He was s-shot.

What? Where?

In Memphis. It... It's all in the news.

- Is he...
- They rushed him to a hospital.

We saw you all were upset, and we...

The incident happened at
the Lorraine Motel in Memphis,

where the reverend was staying,

as he planned to march
later in the week.

Now the entire country awaits the update

on Dr. King's status.

We know he was admitted

shortly after 6:00 p.m.
Central Standard...

Wait, this just in.

Good evening.

Dr. Martin Luther King,

the apostle of non-violence
in the Civil Rights Movement,

has been shot to death
in Memphis, Tennessee.

Police have issued
an all-points bulletin

for a well-dressed young white man

seen running from the scene.

Officers also reportedly chased...

Mama?

Dr. King is dead.

I just couldn't understand

what was so important
about folding those clothes.

He's gone, man!

We should go check on Ms. Handy.

Yeah.

Police report that the murder

has touched off
sporadic acts of violence

in the Negro section of the city.

I didn't understand
a lot of what was going on,

especially why when people
get really upset

about something bad,

they resort to destroying
their own things.

Sick and tired of this!

But something told me that my friends

were probably just as confused as I was.

Why do they keep doing this to us?!

Nothing but them ol' white folks.

Suddenly, the anger
I was seeing on the news

made a little more sense,

especially because it felt like
some things would never change.

Everybody in my family

plays that day over and over
in their minds.

But for different reasons.

For each of us, it felt
like the world around us

had changed forever.

But thankfully, for each of us,

the world on the inside hadn't.

Subs by kinglouisxx
for www.addic7ed.com