Major League

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Major League is a 1989 film about the hapless Cleveland Indians, whose new owner puts together a purposely horrible team so they'll lose and she can move the team. But when the plot is uncovered, they start winning just to spite her.

Written and directed by David S. Ward.
When these three oddballs try to play hardball, the result is totally screwball. taglines


Jake Taylor

  • I'm hung over, my knees are killin' me and if you're going to pull this shit at least you could've said you were from the Yankees.
  • [to Rexman] Hey, Rexman! Hell of a situation we got here. Two on, two out, your team down a run and you've got the chance to be the hero on national television... if you don't blow it. Saw your wife at the Capri Lounge last night. Hell of a dancer. You should be very very proud. Oh, and that guy she was with? I'm sure he's a close personal friend and all, but tell me, what was he doing wearing her panties on his head? [Rexman pops the ball straight up] Uh-oh, Rexie, I don't think this one's got the distance.
  • Second base... [overthrows second baseman] shit.
  • Come on Jake. It's only your life.

Willie Mays Hayes

  • [sliding into home plate in a tux] The American Express Card. Don't steal home without it.
  • [Introducing himself] Willie Mays Hayes. I play like Mays, and I run like Hayes.
  • Don't you guys go anywhere. I plan to put on a hitting display.
  • Cerrano's looking for some extra power for tonight. He's looking to sacrifice a live chicken. Hey Jake, man, we can't have people puking in the locker room before the game!
  • We should've got the live chicken.

Harry Doyle

  • In case you haven't noticed, and judging by the attendance you haven't, the Indians have managed to win a few here and there, and are threatening to climb out of the cellar.
  • [Ball thrown several feet off the plate] Juuust a bit outside. He tried the corner and missed.
  • Ball four...ball eight...and Vaughn has walked the bases loaded on 12 consecutive pitches. How can these guys lay off pitches that close??
  • Remember, fans, Tuesday is Die Hard Night. Free admission for anyone who was actually alive the last time the Indians won the pennant.
  • The post-game show is brought to you by... [searches through his papers] Christ, I can't find it. To hell with it!
  • Heywood leads the league in most offensive categories, including nose hair. When this guy sneezes, he looks like a party favor.
  • This guy threw at his own kid in a father/son game.
  • Well, you can close the book on Kellner. [covers microphone with hand and turns to Monty] Thank God!
  • We don't know where Hayes played last year, but I'm sure he did a helluva job.
  • Heywood's a convicted fellon, isn't he Monty? [Monty: Ah...doesn't really say it here.] Well, he should be!
  • Hayes is picked off! Well, so much for that. Personally I think we got hosed on that call

Lou Brown

  • Forget about the curve ball Ricky, give him the heater.
  • Nice catch, Hayes. Don't ever fuckin' do it again.
  • Well, you may run like Mays, but you hit like shit.
  • Come on Dorn, get in front of the damn ball! Don't give me this "ole" bullshit!

Others

  • Heywood: How's your wife and my kids?
  • Eddie Harris: Up your butt, Jobu. Then stick it in mine
  • Eddie Harris: Yo, bartender, Jobu needs a refill.
  • Pedro Cerrano: Hats for bats, keep bats warm.
  • Pedro Cerrano: I stick it up for you Jobu. You no help me now...I say fuck you Jobu. I do it myself.
  • Roger Dorn: Let's cut through the crap, Vaughn. I only got one thing to say to you: "Strike this mother fucker out."
  • Rachel Phelps: [while Wild Thing is playing] I hate this fuckin' song.

Dialogue

Lou: I thought you said we didn't have any high priced talent.
Charlie Donovan: I forgot about Dorn, cause he's only high priced.
Pepper: [Vaughn pulls up on a motorcycle] Take a look at this fuckin' guy.
Lou: It's my kinda team, Charlie, my kinda team.

Haywood: Taylor what are you doin back up here?
Taylor: I couldn't cut it in the Mexican Leagues
Haywood: How's your wife and my kids?

Willie Mays Hays: Vaughn, get the stewardess. I think I'm gonna need one of those little bags!
Rick Vaughn: There aren't any stewardesses.
Willie Mays Hays: [frightened]I wonder if there are any pilots!

Jake Taylor: I play for the Indians.
Chaire Holloway: Here in Cleveland? I didn't know they still had a team!
Jake: Yup, we've got uniforms and everything, it's really great!

Rick: What's that shit on your chest?
Eddie: [wipes his finger across his chest] Crisco; [wipes his finger across his waist line] Bardol; [wipes his finger along his head] Vagisil. Any one of them will give you another two to three inches drop on your curve ball. 'Course if the umps are watching me real close I just rub a little jalapeño juice up my nose, get it runnin', and if I need to load the ball up I just... [wipes his nose] ...wipe my nose.
Rick: You put snot on the ball?
Eddie: I haven't got an arm like yours; I have to put anything on it I can find. Someday you will too.

[wearing tuxedos, the whole team stands behind Home Plate]
Indians: Hello. Do you know us?
[putting on their caps]
Indians: We're a Major League Baseball team.
Jake: But since we haven't won a pennant in over 30 years, nobody recognizes us - not even in our own home town.
Eddie: That's why we carry the American Express card.
Rick: No matter how far out of first we are, it's cool. You know, it keeps us from getting shut out at our favorite hotels and restaurant-type places.
Pedro: So if you're looking for some Big-League clout, apply for that little green home-run hitter.
Roger: Look what it's done for us. People still DON'T recognize us but... [snaps his fingers]
Lou: We're contenders now.
Willie: [slides into Home Plate and holds up a green credit card] The American Express card: Don't steal home without it.

Jake: That's my wife...
Willie: Does she know that?
Jake: Well, she would've been if I hadn't screwed it up... who's that guy she's with?
Willie: I don't know. He's not wearing a nametag.
Rick: Want me to drag him outta here, kick the shit out of him?

Harry: [reading statistics on the air] And the Indians drop this one, 6-to-one to the Rangers. For the Indians, one run on, let's see, one hit...that's all we got? One god-damned hit?
Monty: [covering microphone] You can't say "god-damn" on the air!
Harry: Don't worry. Nobody's listening, anyway.

Charlie Donovan: Vaughn's been looking good out there today.
Rachel Phelps: Don't worry, he'll blow it.

Rachel: This is a list of players that I want to invite to Spring Training this year.
Board Member #1: I've never heard of half of these guys and the ones I do know are way past their prime.
Charlie: Most of these guys never had a prime.
Board Member #2: This guy here is dead.
Rachel: Cross him off then.

Lou: [answering the phone] Tire World.
Charlie: Lou, it's Charlie Donvan from Cleveland. How would you like to manage the Indians this year?
Lou: Gee, I don't know...
Charlie: What do you mean, you don't know? This is your chance to manage in the big leagues.
Lou: Let me get back to you, will ya, Charlie? I got a guy on the other line asking about some white walls.

Pedro: Bats, they are sick. I cannot hit curveball. Straightball I hit it very much. Curveball, bats are afraid. I ask Jobu to come, take fear from bats. I offer him cigar, rum. He will come.
Eddie: You know you might think about taking Jesus Christ as your savior instead of fooling around with all this stuff.
Roger: Shit, Harris! [leaves]
Pedro: Ah, Jesus [pronounced hey-SOOS], I like him very much, but he no help with curveball.
Eddie: You trying to say Jesus Christ can't hit a curveball?
Jake: Let's not start a holy war now.

Tom: Stay away from her.
Jake: Suck my dick.

Jake: [at the library, discussing Jake's one-night stand with a flight attendant] I had no choice. She bet me fifty dollars that she had a better body than you and I had to defend your honor.
Lynn Wells: Oh, what a bunch of bullshit! I have a much better body than she does!
[everyone in the library turns to look]
Jake: [to others] She's right.

Rick: I got news for you Mr. Brown, you haven't heard the last of me. You may think I'm shit now, but someday you're gonna be sorry you cut me. I'm gonna catch on somewhere else and every time that I pitch against you I'm gonna stick it up you're fuckin' ass! [throws baseball against locker]
Lou: Good! I like that kind of spirit in a player. The only problem is I didn't cut you.
Rick: What?
Lou: I think someone's been having some fun with you.

Roger: [after Rick tackled him, and the two have been separated] Don't fuck with me, Vaughn!
Rick: Yeah? [shouting] Fuck you!
Roger: What's the matter, rookie Fuck-Wad? Can't you take a little joke?
Rick: Real fucking funny, asshole.
Lou: All right, [shouting] All right. Knock that shit off.
Roger: Lou, you better make it real clear to this little lady that I'm not about to take his shit.
Lou: Shut up, Dorn.

Jake: What I was concerned with was why you didn't come up with that grounder that Ryckert hit in the 9th
Roger: It was out of my reach, what do you want me to do dive for it?
Jake: Rog, it could have meant the game!
Roger: Oh come on, cut the rah rah shit Taylor! Year after this I go free agent. Plus me and my agent got a couple of plans for life after baseball. So I am not about to risk major injury or deface this property for a collection of stiffs!
Jake: Ya know Dorn, I liked you so much better when you were just a ballplayer. If you wanna be an interior decorator now, that's none of my business. But some of us still need this team. Now you listen to me! This is my last shot at a winner and for some of the younger guys it could be their only shot. I don't know what happened to you. But if you ever, ever tank another play like you did today, I'm gonna cut your nuts off and stuff em down your fuckin throat!

Willie: [looks over Jake's shoulder and see's him reading a comic book] Moby Dick? What you reading that for?
Jake: This happens to be a masterpiece of American Literature.
Willie: [chuckles] Lynn turn you on to that?
Jake: Yeah... a long time ago.
Willie: Well listen, if we ever get out of here, me and the other guys are going to a club later on tonight. You want to come with us?
Jake: [frustrated] Oh, I can't, I got some reading to do.
Willie: [rolls his eyes] What man, you got a test or something? Jake, man why don't you just go over there and see her. Maybe she'll let you slide on a couple of these.
Jake: Well I would if I knew where she lived.
Willie: That's easy! Just tail her home from the library.
Jake: You mean sit in my car and wait for her to get out of work and then follow her? That's kind of juvenille don't you think?
Willie: [ponders it for a split second] Yeah!

Willie: What the hell league you been playing in?
Rick: California Penal...
Willie: Never heard of it. How'd you end up playing there?
Rick: Stole a car.

Harry: [before the playoff game] Monty, anything to add?
Monty: Ummm... no.
Harry: He's not the best colorman in the league for nothing, folks!

Heywood: [afterHayes reached on a bloop infield single] You really knocked the crap out of that one.
Willie: Oh, I plan to get at least a double out of this. [shows Heywood his black gloves] I bought a hundred of these. One for every base I'm gonna steal. Excuse me while I take my first step toward the Hall of Fame.
Heywood: My ass.
Harry: [Hayes takes his lead off first base] We don't know where Hayes played last year, but I'm sure he did a hell of a job.
Heywood: You're gonna look real sharp, tryin' to steal second with your shoe untied.
Harry: [Hayes looks down, then gets thrown out by the pitcher] Throw to first... Hayes is picked off! Personally, I think we got hosed on that call.

Lou: [at a team meeting] Can I have your attention, please? I have something I think you all ought to know about. It seems that Mrs. Phelps doesn't think too highly of our worth. She put this team together because she thought we'd be bad enough to finish dead last, knocking attendance down to the point where she could move the team to Miami... and get rid of all of us for better personnel.
Roger: Even me?
Lou: Even you, Dorn.
Eddie: What if we DON'T finish last?
Lou: She'll REPLACE you with somebody who WILL. After this season, you'll be sent back to the minors or given your outright release.
Jake: [stands] Well then I guess there's only one thing left to do.
Roger: What's that?
Jake: Win the whole fucking thing.
[long pause]
Willie: [stands] Yeah.
Pedro: [pounds his hand] YES!

Taglines

  • When these three oddballs try to play hardball, the result is totally screwball.
  • A comedy with bats and balls.

Cast

External links

Wikipedia
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