The next day, Knox shows up at Murphy’s office. Knox was fined $5,000 for “jumping Gates.” That seems to be a little light, but maybe I’m not factoring in that this was more than 25 years ago. But seriously, not even a suspension? OK then. Word on the street is that Ranch is looking into civil charges for Knox “popping him.”
“Your pistol’s smoking pal,” Murphy replies, keeping up his
southern lingo. He adds more context, saying Knox and Ranch have been at each
other’s throats since they were players. Bingo. These middle-aged guys have
issues that go way back. Not only that, Knox goes on to say that Ranch spiked
his knee and ruined his career. Murphy dismisses it as an accident.
“It wasn’t an accident,” Knox says, in a serious tone. “When
you slide into the catcher with your nails up, it’s on purpose.
“I was coming into my best years.”
Murphy ends the exchange by using two more terms from his
lingo book: Cowpies (as in, Knox shouldn’t make more to step in) and Manure (as
in, Knox has enough on his boots now).
Knox and Tony Danza exchange words
It’s a new day and new game for the Angels. A bus full of kids, with Roger and
J.P. inside the stadium this time, arrives as the public address announcer
mentions that every Wednesday is Kids Day. The boys run down toward some
aluminum bleacher seats in the outfield and comment on how it’s much better
than the tree. Look carefully, because they sit right in front of the Pine-Sol lady
from the commercials. If you watched TV in the 90s, you know.
They’re at the stadium in time for batting practice, which I
find a little strange. Would this many fans already be at the stadium as early
as batting practice, for a team this bad? Anyway, Tony Danza is back and
confirms he’s in fact a pitcher on the injured list. But he asks “skip”/Knox
when he’s getting off that list, since the trainer has cleared him.
We start to get some context on Danza’s character. Knox
doesn’t seem to like the guy and informs him he has no interest in sending him
to the mound. To hear Knox tell it, the guy blew his arm out and took too many
pain pills.
“Pain pills? You were the one stuffing down my throat five
years ago in Cincinnati!” Danza sputters.
They don’t dig into it much, but this establishes that
whatever the path, Knox managed Danza for those more successful teams. Knox
said he traded him back then, even though managers don’t directly make trades,
of course. Then Knox got stuck with him again. Danza has a random coughing fit
to end the exchange.
Picking up where they left off
The Angels are lined up during the national anthem prior to the game. Many are
singing along. Knox is rubbing at his eyes. Adrien Brody thinks he’s crying,
but Knox tells him to “drop dead” because he only got sunscreen in his eyes. Knox
gives you the warm-and-fuzzies, doesn’t he?
The dimwitted pitcher uses a magic eight ball to ask if he’s going to win. A “no” turns up first before a “maybe,” which seems to really please the dude. One of the middle infielders comes by and sings the anthem “Jose can you see…” Pitch is confused and clarifies that the song is about a Spanish guy. It takes all the fun out of making fun of him for the infielders. Pitch – his name is Bass – slides to the mound to prepare for the game.
In the radio booth, color-guy tries to offer up weird facts
about Bass, because I’m sure his pitching isn’t anything special. Who doesn’t
floss their catcher’s teeth in the dugout? Gotta love those media guides and
game notes. Bass is 2-11 on the season.
Bass sets about 18 times before delivering to the first
Toronto hitter. The pitch is lined into center and off the outfield wall with
the 400’ mark. Williams slams into the wall and obviously does not catch the
baseball. First pitch 1:10 p.m., temperature 75 degrees, error-8 and “a man on
base.”
A gum-dropping catch
The scoreboard shows a scoreless game in the top of the sixth inning, which
seems promising for a terrible team. Before the Jays bat, we see Ranch with his
shiner that Knox gave him, putting on sunglasses… and pouring a generous amount
of liquor into his Angels mug. This guy is the model employee.
At the plate, the batter offers some weird arm movements in
his batting stance. Bass is still on the mound with his giant wad of bubble
gum. The batter “smashes one to deep center,” Ranch says. But Williams is on
his horse with his eye, we presume, on the ball. Meanwhile, we see Roger slowly
stand in his seat looking up toward the sky, as the Pinesol lady sits behind
him looking board.
Then the reactions start flying: A couple of “holy cow!”
reactions from Roger and J.P., which is very 90s. Knox asks how he did that.
Ranch shuts hit mic off, removes his shades with one hand and demands to know
how he did that. Bass stands looking toward the outfield with his mouth open,
causing his gum wad to fall to the dirt. Murphy looks through his binoculars in
his suite.
Who were those guys in ‘sparkling pajamas?’
“That sports fans is a play you’re going to see on baseball highlights for
years to come,” Ranch says, before going off-air and demanding for his lackeys
to “get me something!” I’m not really sure what he wants here. Stats about the
last time angels dropped from the sky? That’s not going to be in any media
guide.
Roger tries to tell J.P. about the guys who came down from
the sky in “sparkling pajamas.” But, as we all know in movieland, since this
was Roger’s prayer, it’s not unusual that nobody else saw the sparkling guys.
Roger even tries to ask some middle-aged, beer-loving guy,
who for some reason is sitting right next to these young boys when there
are plenty of open spaces, about the angels. Gap-toothed guy with a blue tank
top and an abundance of chest hair, is unimpressed with the play, calling it a
lucky catch. He takes a swig of his yellow, paper beer cup (which I swear I
remember seeing from my days going to the Metrodome) and tells Roger to tell
his parents about it. There’s an audible belch as the guy gets up to walk away.
Classy. I guess he has nothing better to do on a Wednesday afternoon.
Roger is just glad somebody else sees the sparkling guys but
is still surprised to learn they’re actual angels. J.P. looks over and sees
Roger talking to no one, confirming that Roger is in fact the only one who can
see the angels; Lloyd confirms this in a second, too.
Lloyd makes a comment about one of them and his “training
wings” as a rookie. Getting creative with the fictional figures. I like it.
Lloyd uses his magic to get an AL hat off an umpire’s head and introduces
himself as Al. That doesn’t seem like his real name though.
Roger asked for help, so the angels delivered as part of an “as-needed situation.” Then Beer-guy comes back with a fresh cup of suds, sitting right on top of Al, who morphs away.
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