All language subtitles for Brockmire - 4x01 - Favorable Matchup [720p-AMZN-WEBRip-x264-GalaxyTV]

Ha ha.

Ha ha!

Oh, shit, you guys are early.

I imagined being dressed for this.

And probably not saying
the word, "shit," either.

- Papa.
- Okay, hi.

You're all right.

Everything's... everything's
gonna be all right.

Good day, America.

Here's your morning news.

Food shortage riots have hit Georgia,

and South Carolina,

as hungry moms

sweep through the
streets looking for food.

Scottsdale authorities
continue to battle

the mutant version of Lassa Fever,

and are working
to quarantine those infected

while incinerating the deceased,

as Arizona is now the fourth state,

to become part of the Disputed Lands.

The last remaining trees

of the Amazon have burned.

Officials plan to replace
a portion of the acreage

with an amusement park,

dedicated to Brazilian points of pride,

like Samba, beef production,

and the highest number

of plastic surgeons per capita,

than anywhere in the world.

Looks like the heat wave gripping

the east coast is about to break,

with temperatures dipping
all the way down

to the high 110s by your weekend.

And former

homerun-hitter-turned-cricket-champion

Bryce Harper stops by,

to talk about his new passion,
cupcakes.

He's here to share his favorite recipe

and shed some light on

why he is the latest

baseball superstar,

to leave the major league behind.

Jim?

Jim, you still with us?

What's the attendance looking like?

16,000.

It's the highest in the league.

Yeah, I stand my original...

Can't really blame the public.

Not a great time to be
outdoors in America,

what with the heat and the guns

and the product
placement facial tattoos,

which are pretty horrible
on the inside as well.

Not to mention the water shortages,

which have led to the
aggressive comeback of B.O.

Right, Todd? B.O., sir.

Todd believes that deodorant
contains aluminum, which...

I don't care if it's laced
with arsenic, motherfucker.

You're an old factory dirty
bomb walking around here, man.

You know... you know what kills me?

What galls me? It's not your blatant

lack of self respect,

it's the way you just
happily and capriciously

break the social contract,
just right over your knee.

Like Bo Jackson after a strike-out.

I stink, everybody!

- Hey, hey! Live with it.
- Stop!

Let's focus on how to respond

to the news of the day.

Hey, Linda.

Do you know where my dad is?

- Production meeting.
- Thank you.

I was thinking of a moment of silence,

at the top of the second inning

for the victims of Granite Bay,

- Baton Rouge, and Phoenix.
- Phoenix, again?

God, what the hell
is going on down there?

The Apocalypse.

Well, I guess everything else

moves so much faster these days,

why not the End of Times as well, huh?

All right, gonna need a fun segment,

to bring the energy back up after that,

so uh...

how about Grandpa Doesn't
Understand New Thing?

We thought we'd save it
for the fourth hour

when the audience wants to kill itself,

after the 12th pitching change.

Maybe we could find
a kid in the stands,

to teach you the Fussy Jack dance.

- The what?
- The Fussy Jack Dance.

- What is that?
- It's, well...

He'd teach it to you
and then you would...

- Hey, sweetie.
- Hey.

Or... or maybe Beth could
teach you the Fussy Jack.

- Or maybe not.
- No, no...

I tried to show him
K-pop once and he said,

"So this is the bullshit ephemera"

"everyone's desperately
clinging to these days."

I was right to say it, too.

All right, meeting over, clear out!

My daughter's here. No,
Todd, you go last.

Remember, we talked about this?

So nobody has to swim upstream

through your malodorous cloud?

Go on, scoot. Go on. Oh!

Oh, you're a soft-serve pile

- of human failure, sir.
- Dad, just...

- Just let it go.
- Congratulations!

You stink.

Ohh...

Okay, the debate's tomorrow, right?

- Yeah.
- Uh...

And you're not some little sophomore

outsider anymore.

You're a senior now.

You're two-time state champ.

You gotta own that, darling.

Now, you don't have the height

to create a physically
imposing stage presence,

so we have to harness

the power of your delightful hair

to create a dramatic silhouette.

Take a look at this.

- Ooh.
- Huh?

I like it. Thank you.

Oh, my God, would you look at this?

It's your hairbrush.
Remember this thing?

I used this for the first time

before your very first state tourney...

and this is your last one.

Dad... you can't keep crying,

at every single made-up milestone

- before graduation.
- Sure, I can.

But this morning you
said we were toasting

the last pizza bagels,

I'd ever eat while living at home.

Oh, I forgot about the pizza bagels.

On our very last family trip to Costco.

Come on, old man. Tighten it up.

Ah, come on, don't throw things at me.

You're a bully sometimes,

you know that? Stop it.

If I'm emotional,

it's cause I'm proud of you, darling.

Let me tell you, your mother,

she'd be very,
very proud of you as well.

- Thanks.
- Hmm.

I also think that you
might be getting emotional

because you have no idea

what you're gonna do with yourself,

- when I'm gone.
- What do you mean, gone?

You're only gonna be three hours away.

I'll see you every weekend.

I'll see you most weekends.

Some weekends.

And with the rest of my free
time I'll just, uh...

You know, I'll stare into
the void of my own futility.

No, I'll finally get
the Ojai house ship-shape.

I'll fix up that roof and, uh,

put some flowers on Clemenza's grave.

Clemenza...

My poor little 110-year-old baby boy.

He was so weak at the end.

Dad, we just got you to stop crying.

Sorry.

Look, maybe it's time you find

something else to do for a living.

Oh, trust me,

I'm not qualified to do anything else.

God, I wish I was.

Jim Brockmire must be

the next commissioner of baseball.

That's the conclusion

from every headhunter that we hired.

People have been laughing
with him and at him

for over a quarter of a century.

His commercials are popular.

Hell, even plaid has made a comeback.

This is a guy who knows
how to attract attention,

and that is what we need
to undo the damage

by the last two labor stoppages.

I know some of you,

have clashed with him in the past.

He called me,

an out-of-touch capitalist vampire!

- I know it, Freddie.
- And this was after

I personally invited him

to my Zephyr regatta.

I mean, what kind of man does that?

- What kind of man does that?
- I know...

I know!

But I also know that Jim Brockmire

is our last chance to save this game.

And on a personal level,

he's someone that I consider a friend.

Friend? No, we're not friends.

Sir, you're a billionaire. You're evil.

I mean, you get that, right?

I mean, you see how you live

and the rest of the world lives,

and the difference there?

I tolerate you as an owner,

in the same way that I might try

to befriend the nicest
Aryan brother in prison,

but, uh... still a horrible,

horrible Nazi.

Anywhoodles, did I interrupt you?

I think... were you offering
me a job or something?

We want to make you
Commissioner of Baseball.

Stupidest thing
I've ever heard in my life.

Stupider than thinking
that I'm your friend.

Which is stupid.

- Please plug into outport.

God damn hallo-projector!

I'm plugged into the outport!

What are you trying to show me?

A presentation about how

people don't like baseball anymore?

'Cause I already know that.
I do have the ability

to see obvious things.

This is not a presentation,

this is a 3D animation

specifically designed

to convince you to do
the commissioner job,

and guaranteed to blow your mind.

Well, I have seen
a hallo-projector before.

I mean, I'm a man who enjoys

all the latest modern advances

in pornographic technology.

Even put a Mr. Magorium's
Masturbatorium

in my local mall.

Very nice, very upscale.

Two stories.

The only downside
is a limited fantasy menu.

Mostly Magorium's own
interests which are very...

God, they're specific.

But listen, his Masturbatorium,

his rules, right?

Key is, you gotta bring
your own pleasure pocket

and find a little corner...

And... oh! Seems like you, uh...

Please plug into outport.

Son of a bitch!

Jesus, don't you have
a tech guy for this?

Yes, but he left me
two weeks ago for Jeff Bezos,

and he took my holo-wire with him.

Ouch, that has got to sting.

It does.

I will wing it.

Baseball's situation
is worse than you know.

Okay, we took a survey
of American ten-year-olds,

asking who's your favorite sports team.

My Yankees are the only team
that made the top 100.

At number 81

and that's right behind Sampdoria.

The hell is a Sampdoria?

It's the fifth most
popular Italian soccer team.

Hachi Machi Malone.

So half the owners, they
wanna contract their teams,

the other half of the owners
don't wanna buy them.

There are reasonable scenarios

that the League
will fold in five years.

Wow. Well,

you're right, that's a lot worse

than I realized, but you know,

all the more reason for me to say no.

No, thank you.

Give me one good reason

why you don't wanna be commissioner.

I'll give you several good reasons.

The position has no actual power, sir.

I know I'd be mouthpiece

for you and your owner buddies,

all of whom I cannot stand,

- and I mean to a man.
- Okay.

No one else...

Can make baseball this interesting.

There's no one else who can communicate

to every generation of Americans.

You, Jim Brockmire,

you are a true original.

No, I'm not.

All my broadcasts now are just rip-offs

of late-'80s David Letterman.

I thought the top ten list

would've made that exceedingly clear.

But you know,

our popular memory just seems

to have Alzheimer's now,

as evidenced by this stupid,

Fussy Jack Dance.

Look at this... that's
"I'm A Little Teapot."

Okay, look... handle, spout.

Jesus Christ, look...

I'm looking forward to retiring,
quite frankly, okay?

The narrative of my life is complete.

I've achieved every dream I ever had,

I worked my way out of the gutter,

I just... I wanna relax

and spend some more time
with my daughter.

Okay... well...

this has been a waste of my

incredibly valuable time!

Blimp!

- That's it?
- Son of a bitch!

You're just gonna abandon

a million-dollar holo-projector?

See this is the kind of disconnect

from humanity that I was talking about!

Well, well, well, come to papa.

Looks like Daddy's gonna
fuck himself some light.

Hello?

Beth?

Anybody home?

What would you like to see?

Oh, God, I'm like
a kid in a candy store.

Um, okay, well, definitely Ann-Margret.

And let's have her sitting on my face.

Initiating.

Dad!

Dad, are you home?

- Hey, hey, hey, hey.
- Hi!

I got accepted into NYU!

We didn't apply to NYU.

Yeah, well, I applied to
a couple schools by myself.

And you didn't...
You didn't tell me about it?

Well, I mean, I didn't think I had to

because they put me on the waitlist,

but then they just called me,

and they said they
have room in the fall.

I can't believe you did all this

behind my back, darling.

I mean, you only wanted me

to apply to Missouri schools and I...

You got into the best one.

Washington University of St. Louis.

It's the Harvard of the Midwest.

Yeah, but I always wanted to explore.

Explore what?
I don't know if you've noticed

the bleakness that's enveloping

this country like a heavy fog,

but it's very dangerous out there.

Students at the University
of Arizona have to barter

their own internal organs
for safe passage.

I mean, these are dystopian
times we're living in.

Attention,

Ann-Margret is waiting
to sit on your face.

- What was that?
- That was nothing.

Look, maybe you have
some romantic notion that

you're gonna find yourself in
New York, but let me assure you

that version of that
city no longer exists.

St. Louis is now what
New York used to be.

It's full of racial strife

with the occasional
affordable neighborhood.

New York is now
just a flooded playground

for the 1% of the 1%.

The Bronx is now Brooklyn,
Brooklyn is now Manhattan,

Manhattan is now Dubai

and darling, the worst part?

Worst part is, Staten Island
is still just Staten Island.

Ha. That thing is a civic black hole,

that the light of gentrification

and human decency can't penetrate.

Look, I made up my mind.

If you don't wanna pay for it,

I can get student loans.

I don't understand.

Is NYU's public policy
school that much better?

I wouldn't know,

because I'm gonna
go to their film school.

Film school? Jesus Christ.

Every parent's worst nightmare.

I've always wanted to tell stories.

You know this about me.

Beth.

Your mom was raised in a two-room house

with seven other people, okay?

She worked her ass off,
literally, every day

just to go to Ateneo de Manila
University, okay?

I know that she wants
me to go to college.

I just don't think she'd
give a shit whether it was

NYU or Washington University...

It's the Harvard of the Midwest.

Harvard of Missouri!

Where you going? Where you going?

I don't know,
I've never stormed off before.

All right, okay, well,

let me fix your hair before you leave,
too,

'cause it's a mess.

Look, I don't wanna fight.

Well, I don't either.

Great, so can we just...

Talk about this?

Sure.

So go ahead and apologize.

For what?

For applying to schools without me.

Okay,

Well, I'm sorry, Dad.

I'm sorry I don't wanna
live at home forever

while you jerk off
to your holo-projector.

Oh, hey, how dare you

kink-shame me, young l...

You were raised in a sex positive home.

Don't you forget that.

- My goodness.
- Ew!

Resume projection.

Resuming Ann-Margret
sitting on your face.

Hey...

Look, I know that Puso sa Puso

is important to you, but, uh...

that guy out there on the screen,

that's not me.

Right, that's me doing a

drunken impression of Robert Wagner...

who was doing a very weak
impression of Cary Grant.

The real me,

is bound to be a huge
disappointment to you.

I'm just... I'm so sorry,

that I'm all you have in this world.

That's a bum deal.

No two ways about that.

Of course...

I didn't have it very easy myself.

My father was an alcoholic
mass of impotent rage.

And my mother was a grifter

who saw parenting as,

well, just another angle.

Doesn't get any better,

any farther on up
the family tree, either.

We're all directly descended
from an 18th-century

German cult leader named Brachmire

who preached an
interpretation of Lutheranism,

where everybody had
to diddle each other,

while making eye contact,
but anywhoodles, anywhoodles.

The one constant in this
unending cycle of trauma

is selfish parents
raising selfish kids,

but you know what?

That's gonna end with us

because for the first time in my life,

I feel capable of living
for somebody else.

From now on, everything I do,
everything I am

is gonna be in service of you
and your future, darling.

You are my purpose now.

Anything you want, I promise you,

- anything you need.
- Can you...

Can you braid my hair?

Oh, my goodness. You speak English?

My God.

You know, I'm not too shabby
with languages myself.

I speak four or five
of them pretty good.

Pretty well.

All right, easy there George Plimpton,

because nobody likes a know-it-all.

Hair braiding, is that what you said?

Hey, I can do that.

How the hell do I do that?

Oh, okay, you want me to brush it?

Hair brushing, here we go.

All right...

Lovely hair.

- Ow!
- Sorry.

Ow...

Tch, tch, tch, tch.

Can't talk like that.

At least not directly
into my face like that.

I'll be gentle.

- That okay?
- Mm-hmm.

Okay.

Dad, I know you
think in times like these,

going to film school
is a pointless luxury

and that you think public policy

is the only way to enact change,

but I would argue that
stories are just as important.

They were always the light
in the darkness for me,

and as Plato's cave teaches...

You can go to NYU, Beth.

It was wrong of me,

to get in between your dream.

That is not the kind of parent

that I ever want to be.

You're old enough to figure out

who you are for yourself.

If you're telling me that's

NYU and film school, oh, God,

then we will definitely figure
out a way to make that happen.

Thank you!

Oh, my God, thank you, thank you.

- Oh, God.
- Hmm.

God, I knew you'd come around.

- Did you?
- It's just...

I thought it would be after

I convinced you with my speech, which,

I still plan on giving, by the way.

It's a tight three hours,
including the overture.

Well, I'd expect nothing
less from my scion.

I love you, Dad.

I love you, too.

Um...

How much is this all gonna cost me?

Um...

150k per year.

Oh...

Oh, that got me.

Ow.

Not including room and board.

Oh, I can't breathe.

That's so bad.

Well...

Lucky for us, you can stay with me,

'cause by the way,
I'm going to New York, too.

What?

Yeah, I decided to accept
the job of commissioner,

which just happens
to be in New York City.

I mean, as you know,

it has always been my life-long dream.

You never once mentioned it.

Well,
it's the kind of dream you keep secret

for fear that it won't
actually come true,

but it has, at long last.
Jim Brockmire,

Baseball Commissioner.

That sounds... insane.

Well, probably, yes. Possibly.

But look, the important thing is,

you're going to NYU.

Yeah.

- Yeah, with my dad.
- Exactly.

And oh, wait till you see

the condo that I got
for us in New York.

Wait till I see it,

because I kind of panicked,
went in way above asking

and bought it sight unseen and now...

Oh, I'm so over-extended on that thing.

Well, did you sell the Ojai house?

Oh, God.

That would've made so much more sense.

Oh... I am so terrible at real estate.

I mean, the whole thing is terrifying.

You know that mortgage means

"Death contract"?

Death contract...

The hell is that?

You know what?

We gotta sell this place, too.

Right away, no time to stage it.

We'll take the first offer
we are lucky enough to get.