[Door creaks] Hey.
There he is. -Hey! Jim!
Congrats on Atlanta. -Thank you, Raj.
You know, boy, you're a very talented young man.
You put up quite a fight.
I have a little something for you. No, Jim, come on.
Where is that thing? Where is it?
Here it is. -I'm excited.
Psych! Fuck you!
I win.
I am a major-league broadcaster!
Aaron Thomas in his iTunes review says
that "Jim Brockmire is a boring and rambling drunk.
One star." [Jeering]
No, no. Thank you for the feedback, Aaron.
And here is my response.
[Cheering]
I don't know if you remember me,
but you would not let me eat out your ass.
I just want you to know that the joke is on you,
because I'm a major-league broadcaster now.
You lose! [Grunts]
Ha!
Can you see these babies through your mouth hole,
you -- you piece of shit?!
[Cheering] Major-league broadcaster, baby!
[Screams]
You lose, I win!
[Laughs maniacally]
Because I am a major-league broadcaster, baby!
Ha ha ha ha ha!
That don't impress me, bitch.
And you still can't eat this ass.
See, I -- Are you sure, though?
You know, 'cause the butthole and the vagina,
they're connected in pleasure.
That's why they're so close together.
It's like yin and yang, ass and tang.
No, g-- Unh!
[Grunts]
I win. Major-league broadcaster.
[Grunts]
♪♪
[Bell dings]
♪♪
Charles: So, have you given any thought
to what's gonna happen to me with Atlanta?
I'm pretty sure they don't want a 19-year-old producer
who doesn't like baseball.
Oh, no, Charles. I got your back.
Are you kidding me? Have I ever let you down before?
You literally do it every day.
Oh, whoa, whoa, whoa! Daddy's thirsty.
[Liquid sloshing]
[Knock on door]
Congratulations!
I just came in to drop off your Atlanta itinerary.
-Hold. -[Chuckles]
-We leave tomorrow? -Mm-hmm.
And I have some other amazing news.
What if I told you that you're going to be
a major-league broadcaster?
I would like it.
I like it so much, I've been screaming it into the face of my enemies.
Didn't you just congratulate me for that?
I don't understand what's happening. You didn't let me finish.
I was pausing for dramatic effect.
Well, it just seemed like you were done. Yeah, thank you, Charles.
I do pride myself on my ability to honor
the flow of conversation.
What if I told you that you're gonna be
a major-league broadcaster tomorrow?
Tomorrow? But that's the last game of the season, isn't it?
That's Art Newlie's last game.
And he's going to call it with you.
I pitched a co-booth as a symbolic passing of the torch.
From a PR standpoint, it doesn't really get much better.
[Gasps] Oh, my God!
This view.
Oh, you can see that new Starbucks
where they have the wine! -Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!
-Oh! Oh, oh! -Oh, God! Oh, God! Help!
Here. Flush it out with some water. Here you are. Oh! Oh!
-Why's it burning? -Here you go, here you go.
Flush it out. -Oh! Oh, God, that hurts worse!
Wait, no, no! That's the gin! That's the gin! That's the gin!
Oh, God damn it! Where's the water?
Here you go, here you go. That's water. Here. This --
Oh, God. Oh, my God, Jim.
Oh, my God!
Jim, have you been drinking?!
Oh, my God!
Have you been drinking in the booth all season?
Are you -- Are you drunk right now?
Is this -- Is this who you are?!
Yes, yes, yes...
...and yes.
I wasn't pausing for dramatic effect there.
I was genuinely deliberating.
This -- [chuckles nervously] This is who I am.
No, no, no, no, no. I told them that you were under control.
This -- This is not "under control."
This -- This is the definition of "out of control"!
Whoa, wa-- Whoa! That's some top-shelf hiding whiskey
you're -- you're waving around there.
Jim...
my reputation is on the line.
You cannot drink in the booth with Art.
Well, we have faced this problem one time before,
and we came up with a very elegant solution.
You see, we soak a tampon --
stay with me -- in whiskey, and then we insert it --
No. It's all right. I don't mind.
I can even jog with that baby in there.
Okay. No alcohol!
If Art sees you drunk in this booth,
this whole thing is over, okay?
You have to promise me that you will call this game sober.
W-Well, it's -- this is the single most important game
of my career, so, of course, Whitney,
I will definitely call it sober.
Good.
♪♪
[Exhales sharply]
This is a bad time, but, um...
tomorrow's not gonna work for me.
Jim: Look, you're coming to Atlanta, Charles.
I'm sorry, but I need you there. Charles: I have a meeting
with a potential sponsor for the podcast.
You gotta cancel it, Charles. I'm s--
Wait, I'm gonna level with you, okay?
When I get nervous,
I have a little bit of a drinking problem.
[Laughing] I have never seen you sober.
That's maintenance, right? That's medicinal.
But under high pressure, I just --
I ratchet it up, like, 12 notches.
Well, then d-dip off to the bathroom
and take a few nips between innings.
No, no. Once you pop, you just can't stop.
Like...Pringles?
No, more like poppers, Charles.
Like amyl nitrate.
See this little bad boy right here?
This both raises the libido and acts as a muscle relaxant.
This is the Bo Jackson of sexual aids.
Just...don't drink for one half day.
Do you hear yourself? Do you hear how insane you sound?
Charles! I am an addict, all right?
It's taking every ounce of restraint I have
not to sniff this entire bottle right now.
If I don't drink in that booth,
I'm gonna get antsy, I'm gonna get the shakes.
I'm liable to rip Art Newlie's head right off.
Be real easy, too. I'll just grab the loose, old skin around his neck,
and I'll just... [pops lips]
Okay! I will go with you to Atlanta.
I will make sure you get into the booth sober and not murdery.
Thank you. Thank you.
But as soon as you're settled, I'm on a plane.
I know you don't care about podcasting, but I do.
Fine! Whatever.
Ooh!
Uh...I'm gonna wanna make a quick stop
on Craigslist casual encounters
before we hit the airport.
[Chuckles] Ooh.
♪♪
This is one of Art's game day traditions.
He shakes everyone's hand
and makes each person feel valuable.
Hey, Jim Brockmire. How are you, friend?
-Art. -Oh!
I'm so pleased to be sharing the booth with you today.
I cannot think of a better way to tie a bow on this career.
Well, Art, I am just so honored to be a part of this.
This is my friend Charles. -Charles.
I heard you made quite an impression on my production staff.
You really know the ins and outs of it all, don't you?
Thank you. I try.
Hi, Whitney. Pleasure, as always.
Uh, please excuse me.
I've got to run down to concessions and say my howdies
and, sadly, a couple goodbyes.
Jim, I'll see you in the booth.
Yes, you will, Art. [Chuckles]
So long, Art.
We should probably get going, too.
I want to show Jim the production booth
before I have to leave.
[Sniffs] Hm.
Sober, old-man breath -- good.
Let's keep it that way.
-Here are your benzos. -Shh, shh, shh, shh!
Take one during the sixth inning, and you should be fine.
No shakes, no crankiness.
And that's almost everything.
That's one tennis shoe.
It's my lucky sneaker.
I've had this in the booth with us
since we got to New Orleans.
So, what, is it, like, really expensive? Is that why it's good?
No. It's not -- It's not about the money.
I got these right before I met you --
before everything in my life started changing for the better.
So, I-I'm supposed to wear it?
No, you're not -- not supposed to --
You know what?
Good luck. Whew!
Don't shit the bed.
I shall try.
So, I don't wear it? -Don't wear it.
Okay.
♪♪
[Sighs]
[Knock on door, door opens]
Are you ready to call a ballgame?
Ohh, ready as I'll ever be.
[Laughing] All right.
Hey, listen, Jim, I'm not usually one for spirits,
but the grounds crew chipped in
and got me this bottle as a retirement gift,
and I would truly love to share a drink with you
as my way of passing the torch along.
Oh, Art, that's so kind.
Oh, but I -- no, I have to politely decline.
Oh, now. No, I never touch it when I'm on the clock.
It's just -- it's kinda who I am. [Chuckles]
What's one drink?
And besides, you cannot deny a man his last wish.
Hmm? -Well...
Um...
Hm.
Oh, that -- that smells like good bourbon, too.
Bourbon, right? I don't... Mm.
...know all the names of the -- of the drinks.
Jim: McCalpin working with two outs
and a full count here in the top of the fourth.
And here comes a pitch.
Strike three swinging. My goodness.
Chillcut pathetically waved at that one
like he just recognized his ex-girlfriend across the bar,
didn't he, Art? -[Laughs]
Oh, that's great.
Straight zeroes across the board, folks.
Looks like fate has decided to give us a game
that we're gonna remember.
Stay with us, would ya?
[Laughing] Oh.
That's a great call, Jim. That's real fun.
Yeah, I could tell you were a real baseball man.
Oh, Art, I am. I tell you, I just -- I love this game.
Oh, good. That's gonna work out just fine. [Both chuckle]
And hey, how about McCalpin's arm today?
-What? -My G-- Hey.
He throws a no-hitter on your final game,
this stadium is gonna lose their minds.
-Wouldn't that be something? -Oh.
But, hey -- Shh, shh, shh, shh.
Let's just let that lie, shall we?
Of course. No, no, no. Say no more.
Hey! -[Laughing] All right.
I think this thing must be working.
It was a gift. -Oh?
From my friend Charles. He said it was good luck.
Yeah, that young friend of yours sure seems like a hard worker.
I tell you what, you lucked out. You picked a good 'un.
Oh, don't I know it. Don't I know it.
You know, they say they're all lazy and entitled,
but not Charles.
That's 'cause their fathers don't stick around.
-Is that right? -Mm.
I hadn't heard that about Millennials.
No. Millennials? I'm talking about the coloreds.
Oh.
You know, Art, I-I'm not sure I can remember the last time
I heard that term used, uh, uh..."coloreds."
Yeah, well, the term is antiquated,
but so am I.
Yeah, I just don't care for this PC nonsense.
It's like, what is this country coming to?
You know, they almost put a sand jockey in my seat.
Boy, howdy.
Bottom of the fourth,
and we have got a doozy on our hands.
Atlanta's got something cooking here
in the bottom of the eighth of this very special game.
And that ball is hit very right out to right-center field.
And, like Ben Affleck's depressing directorial debut,
that one is gonna be "Gone Baby Gone"! Mm!
Burnett with the big bat puts Atlanta out in front
by a count of 4-0. -Yeah, but it's a shame
he had to do a bat flip there, isn't it, Jim?
Just another poor display of sportsmanship.
[Chuckling] Oh, I don't know, Art.
Seems like a young man just enjoying himself
on the final game of the season to me.
Well, call me a purist, Jim,
but I-I say play the game the right way.
Well, that -- that really is important to you, isn't it, Art?
I mean, things being pure.
Hernandez chops one to first,
and that will be...
out number three.
The ninth inning when we return, folks.
[Cheering]
Jim, let me ask you something, and feel free to say "no."
Oh, please. What can I do for you, Art?
Well, these next three outs may be the last of my career,
and I would just love to bring this one home on my own.
Would you mind? -Oh, no problem.
Well, appreciate it and mighty white of you, sir.
[Laughs]
Would you pardon me for just one moment?
Mm!
[Breathing heavily]
♪♪
[Groans]
♪♪
Whitney: Jim!
Can you believe this?! This is so exciting!
Art's last game, and McCalpin is three outs away from a no-hitter.
Oh, my God. Is it a jinx if I say it, or just if you say it?
How does the broadcaster's jinx work?
You know what -- I'm saying it.
I'm saying it! It's storybook perfect!
National networks are doing live look-ins.
This is huge for me.
For you. For us. For baseball.
Most-- Mostly me.
[Giggles]
Are you drunk?
I started taking nips from your binoculars to calm my nerves,
but then when things started going so well,
it turned into a celebration. I mean...
[Inhales sharply] ...this is the kind of night
that careers are built on.
[Giggles] -Yeah, that's great.
Are you aware that Art is insanely racist?
Yeah. I mean t-that's why we're in such a -- such a hurry to push him out.
But the only way that Art will go quietly
is if we promise to hand the booth over to a "baseball man,"
which is Art code for "a white guy."
[Giggles]
What are you telling me -- that I didn't really earn this job,
that I didn't actually beat out Raj?
[Laughing] Oh, no. Of course not.
I mean, Raj is the best!
I gotta go.
The -- The binocular whiskey's going right through me!
[Laughs, echoes]
[Door closes]
♪♪
[Crowd cheering] [Muttering]
[Door closes]
Hey.
Did your boy steal my wallet?
I -- Wha-- I'm sorry?
Well, I don't blame him.
It was my fault for leaving it out when he was around.
[Chuckles] -You know -- I don't...
No, Charles didn't steal your wallet. Oh, really?
-Yeah. -How can you be so sure?
Uh, because Charles is the most honest and hardworking person
I've ever met in my life. -Oh.
I mean, I'm bringing him on as my producer next season.
Oh, a producer? Here?
Well, I won't let that happen.
Only real baseball men allowed in this booth.
We'll talk about it later.
Art, I --
Boy, howdy, folks. [Pills clattering]
A big ARTlanta hello to our national viewers.
Still zeroes across the board for New York.
Let's see if our boys can bring this one
on home for supper.
Folks, you know what's funny?
The younger generation, they always love
to talk about the elephant in the room,
the one thing best left unsaid in situations like this.
Call me a traditionalist, but I say let a sleeping dog lie.
I don't know, Art. Some conversations, though,
they really do need to be had.
I mean, some sleeping dogs, they need to get woke. [Pills clatter]
Sometimes you gotta call a spade a spade.
This is not one of the times. It's a tradition.
Folks, som-- Yeah, but some traditions, shouldn't they die, Art?
For example, racism in this country.
Jim, now's not the time --
Did you or did you not just recklessly accuse
my friend Charles of stealing your wallet?
Art?
-[Chuckles] -Hm?
Folks, what happened is, my wallet went missing,
and Jim's little friend was the only kid in the booth.
Yeah, no, he means the only black kid in the booth, folks.
Whitney: Oh, God.
Oh, God. For the record, I happen to have a beautiful
relationship with the blacks. -Oh, my God!
Do you hear yourself anymore? I mean, are you joking?!
All right, cool off there, Sparky.
This Atlanta heat's got you beat.
Hey, Art, would that be your wallet?
-Well, whoopsie-doopsie! -"Oopsie-doopsie!"
Really? That's all you have to say for yourself?
Oh, my God!
Jim, uh, let's you and I agree to disagree
and get back to the game. No, how about we disagree to agree, Art?
Because, you know, I can't speak for all the people of color in this country.
I'm just one old white guy telling another old white guy
that we will not stand this kind of hatred anymore.
[Jeering] Oh, my God!
Racism is the fist that's punching American right in its own dick, Art.
That's the conversation we really should be having.
Nobody cares about your stupid no-hitter.
[Bat cracks]
Oh, shit. There goes a no-hitter.
[Slurring] And here comes the pitch.
Oh! It's in the dirt!
And nobody cares, God damn it, because it's bourbon.
It's not even a baseball.
Shit. Why'd I spill that out?
[Sighs] There you are.
Brockmire, you -- -Wow! Hey, oh!
-Son of a bitch! -Hey! H-Hey!
Okay, okay!
I knew I shouldn't have trusted you.
You couldn't even stay sober for one game! Oh, I was sober.
I was definitely sober. I swear to God.
I'm not now, but I-I called the game sober.
-Then why?! -Why?!
Art -- I mean, he pretends to be "Cosby Show" Bill Cosby,
but he's actually "hide your drinks" Bill Cosby.
I mean, God damn it, I had to say something.
No! No, you didn't!
All you had to do was stay silent for three outs,
but you couldn't do that, could you?
I'm sorry. I am very sorry. I really am. I --
Hey, at least Raj gets the job now.
Isn't that what you wanted? -No.
They won't hire Raj now
because it'll look like they're "caving to pressure."
And they needed a scapegoat for this televised pig fuck,
[Voice breaking] and they fired me!
[Sobbing]
All right, just give me two of your best shots with that thing.
Come on.
[Dog barks in distance, hip-hop music plays on stereo]
♪♪
Charles, Charles, oh, my God.
Look, look -- you're trending on Twitter.
#CharlesWalletJinx.
♪♪
Oh, no.
[Bottles rattle]
♪♪
Uh, Charles?
Why does my apartment look like young, black Google?
You weren't supposed to be back this early.
Oh, well, when you shit the bed, you kinda have to find
a new place to sleep, and I did that.
Ooh, I took an ungodly dump on my hotel bed.
Figured I'd come on home early.
What i-- What's going on in here?
I'm starting a few other podcasts.
You did all this in the last 12 hours?
The last three months, actually.
Wow!
So, this is our staff, huh?
Hey, Two Hands.
Hi, yes. Hi.
Do me a favor -- get me a Bloody Mary, please.
My head is just pounding.
Uh, actually...
Jim, this is my team.
You can't be involved.
What do you mean, I can't be involved? Why not?
Well, it's called Gradient.
And it's a podcast media company.
It's gonna be podcasts by people of color...
for people of color.
Well, um, what about that guy?
Oh, that's Garret.
He's just cool.
-Well, I can be cool. -No, you can't.
Yeah, he's actually right. You can't be cool. Sorry.
Um, who the hell is that?
This is Yvonne.
She's my girlfriend.
Your girl-- You have a girlfriend?
And you didn't tell me about it? -I'm sorry.
You were supposed to go to Atlanta and stay.
What was I gonna do? I started my own thing.
Well, I didn't get Atlanta
'cause I was too busy sticking up for you!
I didn't ask you to do that!
If I was there, I would have told you 100% do not do that.
Art was on his way out.
What could you possibly have accomplished?
I was protecting you from racism, Charles!
Woman: Ohhhh.
Mm, mm, mm.
It-- It's actually kinda cute.
I've heard enough out of you, Yoko.
Actually, Yoko was a very talented,
avant-garde performance artist.
I-I don't know what you are.
I experience racism every day.
I have to deal with racism before I deal with my morning wood.
It's something I'm used to.
I can handle it.
You experience racism one time,
and you flip out and throw everything away.
I threw every-- I did?!
You're the one who's jumping ship first chance you get.
And I gotta tell you something, Charles,
you would be nothing without me.
Without me, you would still be in Morristown.
Oh, that is absolutely true!
♪♪
All right, look, I want you and your friends
out of here right now.
I own this loft.
Not you.
So, I'm gonna ask you to leave.
Fine.
[Scoffs]
♪♪
I have to get some clean underwear.
I wasn't kidding about that ungodly dump.
♪♪