♪ The Simpsons ♪
(bell rings)
(work whistle blows)
-(sucking) -(register beeping)
(jazzy solo)
(tires screech)
D'oh!
-Aah! -(tires screech)
Mmm, doughnuts.
Hey, Homer, slow down.
You're gonna choke or something.
Don't tell me how to eat doughnuts.
(choking)
Hey, Homer's choking again.
Hmm. Isn't there a first-aid chart
around here somewhere?
Somebody scare him.
That's for the hiccups.
Hey, look at this.
Softball starts this week.
(coughs) Softball?
Who's next?
-Eh, count me out. -Not me.
No way.
What's the matter with you guys?
Homer, last year we were two and 28.
-Look, I know it wasn't our best season. -Actually, it was.
Well, this year, it's gonna be different.
Oh yeah? What makes you so damn sure?
I have a secret weapon.
Hey, he's been holding out on us, huh?
A secret weapon?
I wonder what it could be.
Hmm...
(laughing)
-Count me in. -I'm there.
Come here, boy, I want to show you something.
What's that? A homemade bat?
It's something very special--
a homemade bat.
It all started last year
during a terrible thunderstorm
when I locked myself out of the house.
Sheltering myself with a large piece of sheet metal,
I ran for cover under the tallest tree I could find.
Something told me this was a very special,
very magical piece of wood
that I could make a bat out of.
I put my homemade football on hold,
and set to work making the world's greatest bat.
(Homer grunting)
Homie, come to bed.
(Homer grunting)
Homer, go back to the garage.
And here it is.
(theme from "The Natural" plays)
Wow! How many home runs you gonna hit with that?
Let's see, we play 30 games, ten at bats a game-- 3,000.
(whistles)
Hit one here, Charlie!
(screams)
Okay, lets go over the ground rules.
You can't leave first until you chug a beer.
Any man scoring has to chug a beer.
You have to chug a beer at the top of all odd-numbered innings.
Oh, and the fourth inning is the beer inning.
Hey, we know how to play softball.
UMPIRE: Play ball!
RADIO: Attention all units!
Armored car being robbed at 5th and ...
Turn off that damn radio!
MARGE: And the next man wants to hit the ball too.
And he does.
And there he goes off in that direction.
And everyone is happy.
Uh, Mom, why don't you let me call the game?
That's alright dear, I can do it.
(cheering)
Men, stop that!
Okay, Homer, bases loaded, and you're up.
Where's that secret weapon?
Check it out, boys.
My magic bat.
That's it?
Yeah, I got a magic bat too.
And I got an enchanted jockstrap.
(laughing)
Yeah. Just watch.
(theme from "The Natural" plays)
(screams)
Whoo-hoo!
All right, Homeboy!
Yeah!
(taunting) Ha-ha! Cops can't win!
Get his license and registration.
Right, Chief.
Wow, Dad.
Homer, can I get you a beer?
No. I want to get him a beer.
Kids, kids, kids,
you can each get me a beer,
but first, let's see it again in super slow motion.
(sloshing noises)
Why you...
Huh?
ALL: Ooh!
Such a mighty wallop.
I got my magic bat off a piano.
My sister let me use her wooden leg.
SMITHERS: Good news, sir.
The plant softball team has won again.
If we beat Shelbyville next week,
we capture the pennant.
Did you hear that, Ari?
My boys need only to thump your tub,
and the title is ours.
Ha! The Gladiators from my power plant
will crush your team like nine flabby grapes.
I disagree.
Would you care to bet a million dollars on that?
Oh, if we're going to bet, why don't we make it interesting?
What. A million dollars isn't interesting to you?
Oh, did you say a million?
I'm sorry. My mind was elsewhere.
I thought you would start with a small amount,
and we would bait each other, and...
Well, you know how it goes.
Yes, certainly. A million will be fine.
Smithers, I've been thinking.
Is it wrong to cheat in order to win a million dollar bet?
Yes, sir.
Let me rephrase that.
Is it wrong if I cheat in order to win a million dollar bet?
No, sir. Who would you like killed?
No, Smithers. I've decided to bring in a few ringers--
professional baseballers.
We'll give them token jobs at the plant
and have them play on our softball team.
Honus Wagner, Cap Anson,
Mordecai "Three Finger" Brown...
Uh, sir?
What is it, Smithers?
I'm afraid all those players have retired
and, uh, passed on.
In fact, your right fielder has been dead for 130 years.
Damnation!
Alright, find me some good players.
Living players.
Scour the professional ranks,
the American League, the National League,
the negro leagues.
I'm on my way, sir.
Oh, and, Smithers..
You have 24 hours.
(gulps)
(whispering)
I get $50,000 to play one game?
That's right, Mr. Canseco.
Well, it's a pay cut, but what the hey.
It sounds like fun.
Uh... oh... ah...
-(gunshot) -Hey, sorry. I thought you were a deer.
Oh, that's okay. Happens all the time.
Are you Mike Scioscia?
-That's me. -Uh...
How do you like working for the Dodgers?
Well, it's okay, but sometimes
I wish I had something a little more blue collar.
You know, with big machines and cool dials and stuff,
like an oil refinery
or hydroelectric plant.
We should talk.
TOUR GUIDE: And this is Elvis' rec room.
When the king wasn't rehearsing or exercising,
he'd like to unwind by watching up to three TVs at once.
Man, oh, man, what a lifestyle.
Excuse me. Are you Ozzie Smith?
-Yes. -I have a proposition for you.
Ahem. Hello. Are you Don Mattingly?
Yes, yes, I am.
Come in. Come in. Can I get you something?
What's your name?
How would you like to be a ringer
on a small-town company softball team?
Would I?
And now I'd like to introduce the new members
of our happy power plant family.
-Our new security guard, Roger Clemens. -Hello.
-Our new janitor, Wade Boggs. -How you doing?
Our lunchroom cashier, Ken Griffey Jr.
Hey, what's up, guys?
Our new, well, uh...
we'll make up jobs for these fellas later.
Please say hello to Steve Sax, Don Mattingly, Darryl Strawberry,
Ozzie Smith, Mike Scioscia, and Jose Canseco.
(impressed murmuring)
Oh, by the way, you new fellas,
there's a sign-up sheet for the company
softball team on the bulletin board over there,
just in case you wish to play.
(angry grumbling)
Mr. Burns, with them on the team, you won't need us.
Well, duh.
You, Scioscia, sign up.
Thanks just the same, but I'm here to run
the solid contaminate encapsulator.
One more outburst like that
and I'll send you back to the big leagues.
-You're Darryl Strawberry. -Yes.
-You play right field. -Yes.
-I play right field too. -So?
Well, are you better than me?
Well, I never met you, but... yes.
It's not fair. Me and the guys worked so hard to get
to the championship game, and now we'll be sitting on the bench.
You hit so many home runs this year.
What makes you think this Darryl Strawberry character
is better than you?
Marge, forget it.
He's bigger than me, faster than me, stronger than me,
and he already has more friends around the plant than I do.
You make me sick, Homer.
You're the one who told me I could do anything
if I just put my mind to it.
Well, now that you're a little bit older,
I can tell you that's a crock.
No matter how good you are at something,
there's always about a million people better than you.
Gotcha-- Can't win, don't try.
As your new manager, I want to say this up front.
No one is assured a spot in the starting line-up.
I don't care if you're name is Steve Sax
or Darryl Strawberry, or...
Smithers, what's one of the bad players names?
Homer Simpson, sir.
Or Homer Simpson.
Secondly, instead of beer,
from now on, you will all be drinking this.
It's a brain and nerve tonic
rich in proteins and electromagnetic juices.
It promotes robust health.
Of course it has been known to cause gigantism,
but only in rare cases.
Try some.
Wow. It's like there's a party in my mouth
and everyone's invited.
Excellent.
Now, let's begin our training, shall we?
Smithers...
the medicine balls.
(players groaning)
Ugh... Ugh...
Here.
(chuckles)
What are you gonna do with your million dollars, sir?
Oh, I don't know. Throw it in the pile, I suppose.
You are all very good players.
ALL: We are all very good players.
You will beat Shelbyville.
We will beat Shelbyville.
You will give 110%.
That's impossible.
No one can give more than 100%.
By definition, that is the most anyone can give.
(ball being hit)
I got it! I got it!
-(ball hits mitt) -Yes.
Hey!
I called for that.
Put a lid on it. Simpson!
There's no "I" in "team."
Some of these guys have a bad attitude, Skip.
They sure do, Strawberry.
(whistling "Take Me Out to the Ball Game")
Hey, Scioscia, I don't get it.
You're a ringer, but you're here every night in the core
busting your butt hauling radioactive waste.
Well, Carl, it's such a relief from the pressures
of playing big league ball.
I mean there, you make any kind of mistake, and boom,
the press is all over you.
-Uh-oh. -Ah, don't worry about it.
Oh, man, is this ever sweet.
-Me, me. -Pick me.
Pick me, pick me.
I pick Ken Griffey Jr.
Aw, geez.
Okay, I'll take Milhouse.
Hey Mr. Boggs, will you be on my team?
You got yourself a player.
Damn!
All right, I'll take Louis.
I'll take Jose Canseco.
D'oh!
Mattingly, get rid of those sideburns.
-What sideburns? -You heard me, hippie.
These guys aren't so tough. I've got Wonderbat.
(theme from "The Natural" plays)
(screams)
Take a knee, boys.
Tomorrow is the biggest day of your lives.
The Shelbyville game.
So lights out at 7:30,
and abstain from coffee, tea, and cola drinks.
Make no mistake, they pack a wallop.
Sure do, Skip.
Yes. Now, before I post the starting lineup,
I want to assure those of you whose names are not on the list
that I'm very disappointed in you.
Something was lacking. Let's call it heart.
-No hustle either, Skip. -That's right, Darryl.
-All right. -Way to go.
Aw, nuts.
Please, please, please. I want to make the team.
Clemens, did I make the team?
You sure did.
I did?! Whoo-hoo! Whoo-hoo!
In your face, Strawberry.
-Wait a minute, are you Ken Griffey Jr.? -No.
Sorry, didn't mean to get your hopes up.
Oh...
(Burns chuckling)
Smithers, there's no way I can lose this bet,
unless, of course, my nine all-stars
fall victim to nine separate misfortunes,
and are unable to play tomorrow,
but that will never happen.
Three misfortunes, that's possible.
Seven misfortunes, there's an outside chance.
But nine misfortunes? I'd like to see that.
SAX: What a nice little town.
Maybe I'll buy a home here when I retire.
(siren blaring)
What seems to be the problem, officers?
That's enough out of you, smart guy.
Reach for your license.
(cocks gun) Slowly.
Well, well. Steve Sax, from New York City.
I heard some guy got killed in New York City,
and they never solved the case,
but you wouldn't know anything about that,
now, would you, Steve?
But there's hundreds of unsolved murders
in New York City.
You don't know when to keep your mouth shut,
do you, Saxy boy?
(ticking)
(ticking increases)
Uh, Mike, try to lift your arm.
Can't... lift... arm...
or... speak...
at... normal... rate.
Well, I'm afraid you have a case
of acute radiation poisoning, Mr. Scioscia.
Will... I...
be... able...
to... play...
softball... tomorrow?
(chuckling)
No, by tomorrow, you'll barely be able to breathe.
Oh... man.
Dr. Hibbert, Ken Griffey Jr. needs to see you immediately.
We think it's an overdose of nerve tonic.
Good Lord!
Gigantism!
(whistling)
-(baby crying) -My baby! My baby!
Don't worry, ma'am. I'll save your baby.
Oh, thank you, Mr. Canseco.
-(cat meows) -My cat!
Never fear, ma'am. I'll save your cat.
-(piano playing) -(gasps) My player piano!
Oh, man.
Ohh, one thing I'm good at, and I can't do it anymore.
Homie, you're good at lots of things.
Like what?
Like snuggling.
Yeah, but none of my friends can watch me.
Hmm.
BARNEY: And I say
England's greatest prime minister
was Lord Palmerston!
Pitt, the Elder.
Lord Palmerston!
Pitt, the Elder!
Okay, you asked for it, Boggs.
Uh!
Yeah, that's showing him, Barney.
Pitt, the Elder.
Lord Palmerston!
Nice work, boys.
I think we can close the book on just about every unsolved crime
in our fair city.
Don't I at least get to call my lawyer?
You watch too many movies, Sax.
(door slams)
How long does it take to see this thing?
I'm kind of in a hurry.
Well it's hard to say, my friend.
Once you go in, you may never come out.
Wow! One, please.
(Smith screaming)
(screaming fades)
(man chuckles)
Where do you think you're going?
-To the game. -No, no, no.
I don't want you to see me sitting on my worthless butt.
We've seen it, Dad.
Mattingly, for the last time, get rid of those sideburns.
Look Mr. Burns, I don't know what you think sideburns are, but--
Don't argue with me! Just get rid of them!
Smithers, it's almost game time.
Where the devil are my ringers?
Sir, Mike Scioscia may not live through the night.
Steve Sax is looking at six consecutive life sentences,
and Ozzie Smith seems to have vanished off the face of the Earth.
(screaming)
Cool!
(screaming)
Well, what about Canseco?
The dryer goes on the right.
Yes, ma'am.
What about Clemens?
Sir, he's in no condition to play.
(clucking like a chicken)
That damn hypnotist!
You! Look what you've done.
My starting pitcher thinks he's a chicken.
Make no mistake, I'm going to report this
to the American Hypnotical Association.
But I did a good job...
a good job...
Oh well, I guess it's not your fault.
You did a good job.
(gasps) Mattingly!
I thought I told you to trim those sideburns!
Go home! You're off the team!
-For good! -Fine.
I still like him better than Steinbrenner.
Ahem. All right, you ragtag bunch of misfits.
You hate me and I hate you even more,
but without my beloved ringers,
you're all I've got.
So I... want you to remember
some inspiring things
that someone else may have told you
in the course of your lives,
and go out there and win.
(cheering)
(sniffs)
Not so fast, Simpson.
The man who plays your position is still here.
-Hit the pine. -Ohh!
You stink, Strawberry!
We want home-run Homer!
(taunting) Darryl.
-Darryl. Darryl. -Darryl. Darryl.
Children, that's not very nice.
Mom, they're professional athletes.
They're used to this sort of thing.
It rolls right off their backs.
(sniffs)
-Who wants peanuts? I got peanuts! -Over here!
Hey, wha, ho, peanuts taste good!
Hey, peanuts! We got peanuts!
Need some peanuts? Heads up!
All right, Monty,
it's up to your managerial skills.
What to do--
Smithers, massage my brain.
Yes, sir.
BURNS: You, Strawberry! Hit a home run!
Okay, Skip.
Ha ha ha! I told him to do that.
Brilliant strategy, sir.
Ohh!
MARGE: Oh, dear!
Hmm.
Children, tell me
when your father stops scratching himself.
Kids?
We'll tell you, mom.
BURNS: All right, tie game.
Bottom of the ninth.
Two outs, bases loaded.
Strawberry coming up.
They're going to win the city championship.
No thanks to me.
Wait. You! Strawberry!
Good effort today.
Take a lap and hit the showers.
I'm putting in a right-handed batter to hit for you.
-What? -You're pinch-hitting for me?!
Yes. You see you're a left-hander,
and so is the pitcher.
If I send up a right-handed batter,
it's called playing the percentages.
It's what smart managers do to win ball games.
But I've got nine home runs today.
You should be very proud of yourself. Sit down.
Simpson! You're batting for Strawberry.
I am? Whoo-hoo!
That a boy, Homer.
-You can do it. -(clucking)
All right, Simpson. Let's go over the signals.
If I tug the bill of my cap like so...
Yeah?
...it means the signal is a fake.
Uh-huh.
However, I can take that off by dusting my hands thusly.
-Got it. -If I want you to bunt,
I will touch my belt buckle
not once, not twice, but thrice.
Uh oh. I don't understand a word he's saying.
Why doesn't he just let me bat?
I wish I was home
with a big bag of potato chips.
Mmm... potato chips.
-Got that, Simpson? -Yes, sir.
Now batting for Darryl Strawberry-- Homer Simpson.
-All right! -Yay!
(crowd booing)
(theme from "The Natural" plays)
Huh?
Oof!
-(wild cheering) -(Marge gasps)
Oh, dear!
No, Mom. It counts as a hit.
Dad just won the game.
Oh. Well, I guess he'll be happy
when he comes to.
We won! We won! All right!
(theme from "The Natural" plays)
Homer! Homer! Homer!
♪♪
♪ Well, Mr. Burns had done it ♪
♪ The power plant had won it ♪
♪ With Roger Clemens clucking all the while ♪
♪ Mike Scioscia's tragic illness made us smile ♪
♪ While Wade Boggs lay unconscious ♪
♪ On the barroom tile ♪
♪ We're talking softball ♪
♪ From Maine to San Diego ♪
♪ Talking softball ♪
♪ Mattingly and Canseco ♪
♪ Ken Griffey's grotesquely swollen jaw ♪
♪ Steve Sax and his run-in with the law ♪
♪ We're talking Homer ♪
♪ Ozzie and the Straw ♪
♪ We're talking softball ♪
♪ From Maine to San Diego ♪
♪ Talking softball ♪
♪ Mattingly and Canseco ♪
♪ Ken Griffey's grotesquely swollen jaw ♪
♪ Steve Sax ♪
♪ And his run-in with the law ♪
♪ We're talking Homer ♪
♪ Ozzie and the Straw. ♪
(baseball being hit, organ plays)
CAPTIONS ENHANCED BY ROUNDABOUT ENTERTAINMENT INC.