All language subtitles for The.Goldbergs.2013.S09E07.WEBRip.x264-ION10

Back in the '80s,
high school athletes

were William Penn royalty.

They were celebrated,
they were adored,

and they could do no wrong.

Well, except
in one person's eyes.

Why do we even have
a Senior Night?

To honor the people
like Brea,

who devoted so many hours
to, um...

Volleyball.

Really? That sounds made-up,
but I'll defer to you.

Well, let's get it
over with.

I've got a 12-cheese calzone
in the oven.

That seems like
too many cheeses.

You'd think, but somehow,

more becomes
indecipherably less.

Hey, Brea's mom,
if I give you my keys,

will you run home
and take it out for me?

Yeah, I'm not gonna miss
my daughter's big moment.

Big moment?
She taps a balloon
across a net.

Oh, also

congratulations,
Brea.

Thanks.
Sort of.

And now, let's honor
our senior athletes!

For three years, this gal led
the Lady Quakers in sets

and had more kills
than a Serengeti cheetah.

Brea Bee!

Oh!

Big whoop.

Remember the time
you re-created

Moses leading
his people out of Egypt

with Legos and Kool-Aid?

That was impressive.

I just want to thank my mom
for always supporting me.

I love you with all my heart.

Come out here, Mom.

What am I seeing
right now?

Brian Walls!

This one's for you,
Mama.

What? Another rose
for another mama?

Yeah. All the moms
get thanked
with a rose.

Oh, envious spirit,
I covet thee!

Sorry.
For athletes' moms only.

Brian Corbett!

I'd like to thank
both of my moms.

Hey, uh,
w-where'd the roses go?

Got it. I've got it.

Hello, jocks and sportos.

Um, to use your lingo

we're gonna take a time-out

so that my special player
can honor me.

Adam?
Oh, no.

You came sliding out of me
face-first,

like a baseballer.

Did I die?
Am I dead?

Unfortunately for you, no.

Hey, Adam, why are you just
sitting there?

Bring your taut,
athletic tushie
up here

and give me all
the mother-loving roses.

** I'm twisted up inside

** But nonetheless
I feel the need to say

** I don't know the future

** But the past keeps getting
clearer every day **

It was November 3rd,
1980-something,

and while my sister's
wedding day was a way's off,

the events leading up to it
were in full swing.

At least, for the groom.

Hi, my love.

Can you spare me
Saturday afternoon

from who knows when
to I have no idea?

I'm sure I'll survive
whatever vague

and loosely scheduled thing
you're doing.

It's tux shopping
with the JTP.

I'm gonna look like
Cary Grant

or that guy at the mall
who plays the piano.

What's his story?
How did he end up

in front of
a dead escalator?

I'm okay never knowing.
But look at you.

You're on it
with wedding activities,

tux shopping,
groomsmen softball,

camp friends spa day.

It's actually not me that's
planning all this stuff.

It is I!

Geoffrey's and the world's
best man

and pre-wedding fun captain.

Captain?
It's not
an official rank,

but his body
is fit for service.

We should
really keep that door
locked from now on.

Silence! Just know
that on Saturday,

the man who's
settling for you

will be doing
some high-octane tux shopping,

which may include
a rented penguin

for maximum
photo adorableness.

No way!
Way.

I have many friends
at the zoo.

And enemies.

You know, frankly,
it's touch-and-go.

As much as it pains me to say
anything nice to you,

you're surprisingly
on top of it.

True. For weeks,
he's done nothing

but wedding stuff
and attending to

my intense romantic needs.
Mm-hmm.

Now, if you'll excuse me,
I have to see about a girl.

A girl penguin.

I know.
Penguins can be girls.

I didn't believe it
either.

Ta!

So, Erica, what's on
your pre-wedding docket?

Well, Lainey's organizing
dress shopping.

Isn't Lainey, like,
lost at sea?

No, she's at sea,
and no one knows where,

and Erica hasn't spoken
to her

in a disconcertingly
long time.

She's just busy singing on
that cruise ship.

Fun fact about cruises,

the longer the cruise,
the more poo

the ship is carrying
back to the port.

I'd say that's more fact
than fun.

But the point is,
Lainey is on top of it.

Or so she thought.

Erica?

I'm sorry.
There's a huge storm
on the way,

so they're coming to
evacuate us.

What's up?

So, she may not be
fully on it.

Here's a kooky idea.

What if I, Joanne,
am your fun captain?

Yes! My sister planning
my fiancee's wedding events.

We solved it.

Did we?

Because as much as I love
Joanne's wild-card energy

I do have a pretty deep bench

of close friends
to pick from.

Well, if you change your mind,
here's my business card.

Tom Wiggins,
Assistant Manager, Kinko's?

Oh, that's right.

I never followed through.

So,
Erica reached out
to her long list of friends,

starting with her old college
pal, Ren.

Hey, Lady!

It's so nice
to hear your voice.

Sorry I've been
so out of touch.

I have been busy planning
a wedding for my friend Jill.

Ugh, it is so much work.

I swear to God,
never again.

So, what's up?
Just saying hey.

So,
she called her next
best choice, Valley Erica.

Erica? Oh, my God.
Like, hey.

Michael,
get down from there!

Glenn, that's not
how you use a mouth.

Dustin,
that's the cat's food!

Word of advice,
do not have triplets.

Triplets? How long has it been
since we spoke?

Not long. Things move quickly
in Scottsdale.

Gotta go.

And then her real
next best choice,

her old high-school friend
Carla.

Hey!
Hey.

I was just wondering
if you might like to plan

some fun wedding stuff
for me.

Ooh, I already have a job
that I'm bad at.

But if you need wings...

I wouldn't get 'em here.

So, I completely
struck out

and have no pre-wedding
fun captain.

You know, my sister's dying
to help.

Yeah, it's just Joanne doesn't
know me very well.

But you know who does
know me well?

Me.
Ooh, is this one
of those logic puzzles,

like where the doctor who
couldn't operate on the boy

turned out to be
his mother?
It's the '80s.

A woman can plan her own
wedding events, can't she?

Not sure that's gonna be
the takeaway from this decade,

but I guess.
Then it's settled.

I will be
my own fun captain.

Yay! My fiancee has a shaky
and unconventional plan.

While Erica had decided
to do it herself,

my mother was still beside
herself about Senior Night.

Do you realize how much better
athletes are treated

at what we were promised

was an exclusive,
elitist private school?

We did have it
pretty good.

What are you talking about?
You're not an athlete,

unless they turned
being a moron
into a sport.

How dare you?

I'm an Olympic-caliber
sportsman

who never got a chance
to prove it

'cause coaches,
teammates, umpires,
and equipment managers

were too intimidated
by my dominance.

We can stop talking now.

Murray, we have to
do something.

Why should the jocks
get special treatment?

Face it, if Barry could hit
a baseball like Mike Schmidt,

wouldn't we
love him more?
No.

I can hit like Schmitty!

Come out back and pitch to me,
old man!

That doesn't
seem like something
that's gonna happen.

Touch my pec.
Go ahead.

Feel its shape
and girthy weight.

I'm not touching
your anything!

Mom! Dad won't recognize
my natural abilities

and physical prowess
by caressing me!

Cup your son's boy-bosom!

Do you hear your words?

Fine. If you're not gonna help

either one of your sons,
then I will.

Very meaty, dear.

In your face.

Earl, are you aware that
the athletes in this school

get treated better
than all the other kids?

I can explain that.

They are better.

Because they're all strong
and coordinated?

Not just that.
There's also a swagger.

Well, this changes now.

I demand that all the kids who
are not as gifted athletically

be treated the same
as the jocks.

But then how will they learn
that they're not as good?

They are as good, Earl.

And they deserve
the rose-kissy thing, too.

The what-zit now?

When all the athletes fawn
all over their mothers

in front of the whole school?
I want that for me.

I mean, you know,
for all the other kids.

But no one cares about
their ho-hum achievements.

Then I'm just gonna have
to invoke Title Nine.

What, the law that prevents
sex discrimination in schools?

Then Title Eight. Or Ten.

Darn my weakness
for vague threats.

What will make this all
go away?

I want the non-athletes to be
celebrated and adored, too.

Feign interest in non-jocks.
Got it.

And the rose-kissy thing.

Yeah, you've mentioned that
twice now.

Okay, you win.
The athlete-worshipping
culture

of this place ends,
starting now.

Yo, Ball-Man,
can I borrow your ride?

Chem lab's boring
and I want to go get
an ice cream cake.

Sure thing, dawg.

And, uh,
when you're done with it,

just park it
wherever you want.
I'll find it.

Okay, starting now.

While my mom was pursuing
her rose celebration,

Erica's wedding run-up was
feeling less than celebratory.

Hi. Erica Goldberg.
I'm here to try on dresses.

Perfect.
Just let me know

when the rest
of your party
gets here.

Actually, it's
just gonna be me today.

No maid of honor?
Again, just me.

Sisters?
Just me.

Cousins?
Nope.

Work friends?
Flying solo.

College friends?
Going it alone.

New friends?
Party of one.

Well, what about
your mother?

Oh, God, no.

She's the best,
but also the worst.

So I'm doing this round,

and then she promised to come
and be awful

when I settle on something.

Would you mind
if we grabbed

some of
these champagne glasses?

Another client brought
way more guests

than we anticipated.

Take 'em all, Beth.
Mine's here all by herself.

Has that ever happened
before?

Not that I can remember, and
I've been here for 15 years.

There's a person here
with ears and everything.

So, is that a yes?

Just take
the friggin' glasses, Beth.

And so
began the loneliest

wedding-dress-trying-on
in history.

There was this fun number,
and a more modest option.

She was a princess
without a court,

a Southern belle whose friends
had gone with the wind,

and whatever this is.

Why do I keep coming out?
There's a mirror in here.

But without any friends
to weigh in,

my sister was feeling stuck,
literally.

Hello? Beth?

Other lady?

Little help?

Oh. Thank God.

I thought you guys
forgot about me.

Sorry, Tiffany!
I found one more!

I hate you, Tiffany!

I've exhausted
all my options,

so you're my fun captain.

Ah! You handpicked me!

As Erica welcomed Joanne
to the team,

the kids
who'd never played on one

were starting to enjoy the
privileges of those who did.

** Dave Kim, he's our man

** If he can't do it,
no one can **

What exactly can no one do
that I maybe can?

Win the Science Fair by
simulating a wind turbine.

Way to go, Davy.

I don't know
what's happening,

but this is farther
than I've gotten in my dreams.

"Congrats Matt Schernecke
on his sly turn

"as Rooster Hannigan
in 'Annie'"?

That performance
was wildly uneven.

Agreed. The choreography
on "Easy Street"

swallowed him whole.

But the bigger question is,
what gives?

Good day, students.

First off, I'd like to give
a verbal high-five

to the kid in the back brace.

He has a name.

I think it's Adnan,
but I'm not positive.

Also, to Adam Goldberg,
for locking up

the AV club's Oscar Award
for his cheeky parody,

"The Second-to-Last
Starfighter."

It definitely put
the original
in its place.

And the rose-kissy thing?
Yeah, yeah, yeah.

I'm... I'm getting to that.

And you're too close
to the mic.

They can't hear me.
Just say it.
Yeah, okay.

And also remember that
our less-coordinated students

will be honored Friday

at our first annual
Non-Athlete Senior Night.

Invite your mamas.

Non-Athlete
Senior Night?

This is a stretch,
even for you.

Wha?

This attention
isn't real!

Just my mom wants
her own rose ceremony!

A win's a win.

Sydney, I've made a mess.

My sister finally
had a fun captain,

and Joanne's first move
was to call for back-up.

'Sup, fools?
Carla?

I thought you said
you were too busy to help.

That's 'cause I don't like
being in charge,

but I'm happy to be
the getaway driver.

Metaphorically?

Sure. So, what do we got?

I put together a list of
typical bridal activities,

a spa day, brunch, getting
our hair and makeup done.

Ooh, those sound
so normal.

That's why we're doing
none of them.

We're going to
a monster truck rally.

Oh. I went yesterday,
but I'll go again.

I don't know.
That seems really loud.

What if we did
extreme versions

of the stuff
you already crossed off?

Or maybe not extreme at all.

Well, it's your rodeo.

Yes! A prison rodeo!

My cousin's
the head clown.

And with that,

Erica's special day
was gonna be normal.

Kinda.

They hit the spa...

I remove top layer.

Of my skin?

...they
got their makeup done...

Hot damn!
She used every crayon
in the box!

...and finally, brunch.

Here again?
You know it.

They make
a kick-ass potato soup.

It's as hearty and thick
as the men who make it.

More hit?

While Erica's special day
was a bust,

I enlisted some help squashing
my mom's plan

for Non-Athlete Senior Night.

We want you to reverse
the cultural changes

you've made at our school.

Yesterday, I went to
lovingly wedgie a band kid,

but I couldn't because
he was on the shoulders

of five cheerleaders.

Believe me
if it were up to me,
that dweeb's underwear

would be gently
but hilariously
tattered and torn.

And I've gone two days
without someone
decorating my locker.

Have I become a nobody?

You're always somebody
to me.

That means nothing!

None of this makes any sense.

This morning,
that nerd Matt Schernecke

said hi to me
in front of everyone.

So embarrassing!

If Dave Kim's getting
a cupcake from Sydney
the cheerleader,

then my cupcake
doesn't feel special.

I mean, even though
I'm dating Sydney.

Okay, that last argument's
kind of convoluted,

but you get it.

I'm persuaded.

Going back
to the old system.

So, you'll be canceling
Non-Athlete Senior Night?

Oh, that I can't do.
Your mother was very menacing.

And she invoked laws
I'm too lazy to verify.

But nobody wants it!

Guys, help me out here.

We don't care about that.

We just want cheerleaders
to bake us stuff.

I'm sorry, Mr. Goldberg,
fair is fair.

The athletes got
their big night,

the non-athletes get theirs.

Which gave me
a crazy idea,

and that meant there was
only one person to talk to.

I need you to turn me
into an athlete.

Are you talking to me
or God?

'Cause that's a tall order
for either of us.

If I make it onto
a sports team,

I won't have to participate
in Non-Athlete Senior Night.

Fine! Tell me the sport,
I'll make you a legend.

Doesn't matter.
You pick.

Well, I'd rule out anything

that requires a bat,
ball, mitt,

racket, stick, club,
coordination, endurance,
desire,

grit, strategy,
physical contact,

or a commanding voice
for calling signals.

What's left?

Spring track.
In!

What's the minimum
I have to do to make the team?

I only know the maximum.

I don't need the maximum.

I just don't want to go
to this banquet.

Whatever the reason,
you will be transformed

from an undersized sack
of soft garbage

into an explosively
high-performance

muscular super jock.

Why exactly are you embracing
this challenge

with so much intensity?

To prove to Dad that
I am such an elite athlete

that I can even turn
the weakest, scrawniest,

and most pathetic among us
into Dan Marino.

The Isotoner glove model?

I didn't know he did sports.

Your training begins now!

I'm gonna need gravity boots
and a tractor tire.

Let's go!

Here I come,
I guess.

While I'd gotten
Barry's unbridled help,

Erica's bridal shower
was under way.

There was food...

Wait, are you
driving later?

I might be.

I'd stay away from those.

...there were games...

Okay, would Geoff rather
make out in public, or--

Whatever the second thing is.

Correct!

He'd rather die
in a house fire.

...and,
of course, dessert.

Cake time!

Oh, wow, that's big.

Well, it kind of
had to be. You'll see.

Surprise!

Is it time?

It's so dark and scary
in there.

Oh, God.

Erica, you get
the first piece.

Technically the second.
I got pretty hungry
on the van ride over.

That's okay, I'm good.

Why not? Is my boyfriend
not hot enough for you?

That's the thing,
he's too hot.

He's sweating all over
the frosting.

You should be so lucky
as to eat frosting
that touched my man.

Knock, knock!
Groom in the room!

It's okay, Geoff.
There's nothing to see here.

Full disclosure,
it was gonna be me
in the cake,

but with my crippling
claustrophobia,

nobody thought
it was a good idea.

The problem isn't who
was in my cake.

The problem is that
someone was in my cake.

Geez, someone
is hard to please.

Look, it's not your fault
that you planned something

I intensely hate.

You just don't know me at all.

While Erica's shower
had gone off the tracks,

I was still trying to derail
my mom's embarrassing plan.

Schmoop-a-poop, I have
our outfits for our big night.

Wow. So much class
and pizzazz.

It's a shame neither of us
will be wearing those.

As a newly certified
high school athlete,

I will not be attending.

That doesn't make any sense.

You're a think-y,
not a do-y.

I think-y no more.

I'm a badass jock now,

with all the accoutrements
that come with.

Like these incredibly
thin and revealing shorts.

So you joined a sport?

Not just any sport,
track...

A series of athletic contests,
running, jumping... the other.

So, no-can-do
on your big public smooch.

Hmm.

Well, if you put
as much energy
into that

as you did into depriving me
of a moment of thanks,

then you're gonna be
the next Carl Lewis.

Can you believe her?

It's actually you
I can't believe.

What's that
supposed to mean?

Your mom.

She sacrifices everything
for you kids,

her time, her life.
It's all for you.

Still, she made up
an embarrassing event

just so I could give her
a flower.

Because that's how far
she has to go

to get the recognition
she deserves.

I guess.

No one gets through
high school alone.

Everything you did
and you achieved,

she was with you
every step of the way.

In a bitter twist of fate,
my mom had finally gotten

her Non-Athlete Senior Night,

but her favorite non-athlete
was nowhere to be found.

Now I have to pretend to care
about these dorks

who couldn't have gotten off
their butts to play a sport.

And yet you came
and insisted
we sit together.

And now, let's meet
your Non-Athletic Seniors!

This fella guided Yearbook
through three straight years

of deadline-meeting
publication.

Give it up for
Brad Finkelstein!

A funny thing happened
that night.

People realized that

all the things kids
had accomplished off the field

were also pretty cool.

She anchors the math team
and the third chair

in the William Penn orchestra
on the oboe.

O-boe she didn't!

Annie Gerwitz!

Yep,
it was the night my mom
had dreamed of,

but because I wasn't there,
it was just a nightmare.

Next, throughout
his storied career,

this gentleman
put it all out there

on the floor
of the theater!

Adam did theater.

His credits span from "Annie"
to "Xanadu,"

with two others in between.

Adam also did "Annie"

and "Xanadu"
and two others.

He's a two-time president
of the AV club.

Adam was also
two-time president
of the AV club.

And he made our school's
first ever video yearbook.

Adam made
whatever that was!

Everyone, make some noise...

Mr. Movie,
Adam Goldberg!

Yes!

Oh.

Yeah, there was
one more good thing

about being a non-athlete.

He's not here.

I knew how to make
a dramatic entrance.

Thank you.
Thank you.

But, most of all,
Mom, would you please...

Whoa.

I'd just like to thank
the greatest,

most supportive mom
in the world.

Mom...
Yes.

I've got
a half-inch-deep thorn
in my hand,

and I don't even feel it.

Sorry, Mom.

I realized I didn't
get through high school
all by myself.

My baby cherishes me
and puts me on a pedestal!

Oh!

My mom had finally gotten
the thing she most wanted.

Unfortunately, the same
couldn't be said for Erica.

You okay?

I've been better.

I get it.

I'm lucky.

I've got Barry, the JTP,
all my camp guys.

But your friends aren't around
when you need them.

And that hurts.

You're very good at knowing
how I'm feeling.

That's 'cause I love you.

The worst part is
I was mean to your sister

after she tried so hard.

Then maybe I'm not the one
you should be talking to.

Hey.

Joanne, I'm so, so sorry.

I'm the one
who should be sorry.

I throw myself into things
and try way too hard,

but it's only 'cause I saw
a chance to be closer to you.

Really?
Duh.

What do you think?
I don't want us to be sisters

just because
you're marrying my brother.

I want us to be like
actual sisters.

I always wanted a sister.

Well, then

let me start
with one more thing
I have planned.

Oh, no. I don't need
any more activities.

Are you sure?
'Cause I think I've learned

a little more
about what you like.

In that moment,
Erica realized

that no matter how far apart
your paths may take you,

the most important people
in your life

will always be there for you.

Oh, my God!
What are you guys
doing here?

Joanne reminded us
how important this is.

So we made it happen.

Occasionally,
someone you never expected
steps up

and becomes
one of those people
who means so much.

And sometimes, we realize that
they were there all along.

Oh!

Yes!

But either way,
as long as you've got
your people

by your side...

you'll be a winner
no matter what.

Shopkeep! In addition
to wedding dresses,

does this place sell tuxedos
for both man and penguin?

Oh, no.

Oh. There's my guy.

Hi, Barry.
Hey, Barry.

My current girlfriend,
two former sweethearts,

plus a girl I made out with
at a party once?

In my defense,
I was sober that day.

This is hilarious,
but also...

Oh, my gosh!
Look at how red he's getting.

Let's turn this up
a notch.

Which one of us
is the best kisser?

I-I couldn't possibly...

But I could.

Mama always
wins best kisser,

no contest.

C'mon.
Let's show 'em how.

This day is so much better
than I could have hoped for.

Let me go!
Let me go!

No! No!