When you're a little kid...
You're a little bit of everything.
Artist, scientist, athlete, scholar...
Sometimes it seems like growing up
is the process of giving those things up.
One by one.
I guess we all have one thing we regret giving up.
One thing we really miss.
That we gave up because we were too lazy...
Or we couldn't stick it out.
Or because we were afraid.
- He's gonna go long! - What a pass!
Nice spiral, Joe!
You guys, come in. Huddle up.
The '68 Jets.
We had all the moves.
There wasn't an imaginary team in the league that could beat us.
OK... it's late in the fourth, the ball's on the six...
And Oakland's up by three.
That would be Don Maynard. In Paul's case, the only...
wide-receiver in pro football that was allergic to grass.
Who am I?
You're Emerson Booser. You provide vital pass protection.
Blocking again?
Well why do I always gotta block?
Cuz you're good at it!
- Ready... - Break.
And the crowd's goin' wild...
Eighty-nine! Two-hundred-thirty-five!
Hut, hut, hut. Hut!
Joe "Willie" Namath...
Fades back to pass...
He's looking for a receiver...
And Maynard breaks free...
Oh, what a block by Booser!
- He's all alone! - Scrambling, scrambling!
He's wide open...!
Touchdown!
And the Jets win twenty-six, twenty-three!
- Kevin! It's four-thirty...
You better get a move on!
In front of 60,000 screaming fans, the league's leading passer...
Had to go to his weekly piano lesson.
Ronald Hirschmuller.
He was practically a legend in our neighborhood.
He always practiced, forty-seven-hundred hours a week.
He always played everything perfectly.
And his mother always bragged about him...
to everybody else's mother.
I hated Ronald Hirschmuller.
There! Finished! How was that?
Nobody plays scales like you, Ronald.
You want me to play them again?
Do you want me to play them faster? I can play them faster.
Go home, Ronald...
OK...
- Well, I guess I'll see you next week,of course.
- Good afternoon, Mrs. Carples. - Good afternoon, Ronald.
Oh, and... Good afternoon to you, also, Kevin.
- Seeya, Ron. - Ronald.
Oh yeah! I keep forgetting.
Mrs. Carples.
She wasn't exactly a poster-child for the American Lung Association.
But you could say what you thought to her...
Which was kinda neat.
- So, how ya been this week? - Ahhh. You?
We had the same week.
OK, let's get you warmed up, huh?
If there was one thing I hated as much as...
I hated Ronald Hirschmuller, it was scales.
Why did I do this to myself?
Keep going.
Well.
Your playing sounded pretty good to me.
I'd guess you must have practiced...
This was it. Maybe she'd overshoot.
About forty-two minutes this week.
What?!
No! Come on, it was longer than that. I swear.
I round off to the nearest minute.
But you said it sounded pretty good...
"Pretty good" is not the same as "good".
- You know, Kevin...
I'm gonna start to feel guilty for taking your parents' money
if you don't put a little more effort into this.
- Have you thought about what you'd like to play
for the recital this year?
The recital. It's time for the recital again?
Already?
I think I'm busy that night.
I haven't told you what night, yet.
I mean, I'm probably gonna be busy that night.
- See, I'm in junior high, now.
And there's a lot of demands for my time.
Last years' excuse was much better.
Did your uncle ever pull through?
No, really...
I just have a lot to do besides piano, that's all.
You know, I'm not like Ronald Hirschmuller.
Well, it's up to you.
- So, Kevin? How was your lesson?
- OK. - You know, I bumped into...
Mrs. Hirschmuller in the supermarket, today.
And she told me how excited Ronald was...
about playing in the recital this year.
I didn't know this year's recital was coming up.
Did you know this years' recital was coming up?
- Well... Yeah... - Are you gonna be playing in it?
- Well... - Mom...recitals are for wusses.
Of course he's gonna play.
Wayne, there is nothing feminine about playing the piano.
And even if there was...
I think it's good that Kevin is in touch with that.
Look. I'm not going to be playing in the recital, anyway.
I already told Mrs. Carples that.
Why not?
Cuz I just don't feel like it.
Look. I'm not like Ronald Hirschmuller.
Well, that's too bad, because, you know I bumped into
Mrs. Carples at the supermarket, too.
Jeez, Mom. Did ya bump into any food?
And she said that you have real talent.
What?!
She said you didn't practice enough,
but that you have real talent.
Real talent. Ok, hold it, hold it.
Act Casual. Get some more information, casually.
When did she say that.
Well we are in the product section.
I was picking out some tomatoes for the spaghetti sauce.
- Mom. - That's when she said it.
That you have real talent.
Jeez!!! Real talent.
- And she said it right in front of Mrs. Hirschmuller, too.
A key bit of information.
But there was still one thing I wanted to know.
Well...
Did she say I'm as good as Ronald Hirschmuller?
Well, no... I-I don't think she said that.
Isn't Ronald Hirschmuller like really, really good?
You as good as Ronald Hirschmuller...
- Fat chance. - Wayne!
Now, no one expects you to be as good as...
Ronald Hirschmuller, honey
Look! The only reason he's so good is...
cuz he practices all the time.
I never practice, or I'd be better than him.
Wait a minute. Wait a minute.
Uh...did I just say that?
What do these lessons cost me?
- Ten dollars, I think. - Ten dollars?
Is that ten dollars a year, or ten dollars a week?
- A week. - I see.
And your teacher says you never practice...
Yeah...
And you say you never practice.
Well...I mean,
I don't really mean never practice. It's like...
And your teacher says you have talent,
but the reason you're no good is because you don't practice.
Am I getting that right? Is that what we're saying here?
I guess...
Well then...
I'd say one of two things is possible.
Either you're gonna start to practice like this...
Ronald Hirschmuller I hear so much about...
Or you're just gonna quit the damn piano!
It's your choice.
Funny thing was...
I didn't want to quit the piano.
Mrs. Carples thought I had talent.
And what if I didn't?
What if somebody else, like say, Ronald Hirschmuller...
Was just always better?
Very nice, Ronald!
- I'll see you next week. - ADieu, Mrs. Carples.
That's farewell in French.
- Goodbye, Ronald.
- Kevin... - Frere Jacques.
OK, Jacques, hit the bench
We got lots of work to do, here.
And if you try to speak French to me...
I swear, I'll break all your fingers.
What's the matter?
Well... I'm quitting piano.
You're quitting piano?
Yeah.
Well, would you mind telling me why?
I- I don't know... I don't practice enough.
- It's a waste of money. - Well, who's fault is that?
I don't know...
Look. I'm not gonna be like Ronald Hirschmuller!
- OK... - Just...
I'm never gonna be that good,
...even if I practiced all the time...
He's just more talented than me.
Oh, don't give me that.
You have more talent in your little pinkie...
than Ronald Hirschmuller has in his whole body!
Why, that kid's a machine.
You have a feel for music, and you know it!
But that's not the point who's better, who's worse?
That's not music! That's not what it's about!
- Sit down!
Sit down.
I want you to play something for me.
Pachelbel's Canon in D Major.
It's my final request.
Keep going.
All of a sudden... as I started to play...
It was like, there was electricity flowing through my veins.
Suddenly, I could do no wrong.
There. That's what it's about.
And so, I made my decision.
I would sacrifice.
Endure humiliation.
Deprivation.
Grave physical danger.
But I would play Canon in D Major
like Mrs. Carples had never heard it before.
Like the world had never heard it before.
Like Ronald Hirschmuller... had never heard it before.
Alright, go ahead, take a guess.
You must have practiced a good seven hours.
A mere six-and-a-half.
I don't know. I didn't really keep track.
Well. It was quite a difference.
- Yeah? - Yeah.
Ok, The fish are jumpin'. Cast out your line.
So, it sounded pretty good, huh?
No...
It sounded good.
It's just a shame your parents can't hear...
you play it at the recital.
You got a bite. Now, play out a little more line...
Well...I don't think it's good enough for the recital.
- Kevin...
You're playing this piece well enough right now for the recital,
and you still have a whole week to practice.
Well...I don't know...
It's up to you. I can't force ya to do it.
Too much, too much! Start reeling in.
Uh, well, if you think I'm ready...
I do. You're ready!
Play in the recital.
Pretty please, with sugar on top.
Smart fish.
Well... OK.
Oh, good...
Alright now... Let's see... If we can polish this up a little.
Kevin, I'm glad you decided to stick with it.
So this was it.
The dress-rehersal. And I was ready.
Leave it to Ronald Hirschmuller...
to actually get dressed up for a dress-rehersal.
- Good afternoon, Ronald. - Oh, Hello, Kevin.
- Nice suit! - Thank you.
Did you practice this week?
More than you, I'm sure.
I'm sure, I'm sure. So, what are you playing?
Canon in D Major.
Now, I'd never actually been hit by a ton of bricks, but...
- What?! - Canon in D Major.
But, you can't play that. See, I'm playing that.
- So... - So...
Don't you know any other songs?
I know lots of other songs.
But...not as well as I know Canon in D Major.
- Alright! Let's everybody take your seats!
How could she do this? She must have known...
What I'll do first is welcome all your parents
to this years' recitals. Welcome.
- Now, I would like to introduce our first student...
Mr. Ronald Hirschmuller, who will be playing the
Pachelbel's Canon in D Major. Ronald...
But wait a minute. What was it Mrs. Carples had said?
This wasn't about competition.
It wasn't about who's better, or who's worse.
Ronald? Play now, bow later.
It was about music.
And anyway, maybe Ronald would screw up.
Maybe he'd screw up royally.
Maybe the phone would ring.
Maybe a fire-alarm would go off somewhere.
Maybe someone would drop a ten-megaton bomb on the roof.
China had 'em now, didn't they?
Ok, sure, it sounds perfect now.
But how long could he keep this up?
God, you know I don't ask for much.
Ok, God, Ok.
I'll never swear,
I'll give my allowance to the needy...
And I won't use that snotty tone of voice with my mother, OK? OK?
Just one...lousy...mistake.
Now, take a little bow, Ronald.
Ronald, sit down.
This was a disaster.
Ronald had played his piece, my piece... perfectly.
Now, I would like to introduce our second student.
Good! I needed time to think.
Kevin Arnold.
Now?! Back-to-back? What was she tryin' to do to me?
Kevin will also be playing the Canon in D Major...
But I think you'll find it interesting to hear...
how two different students interpret the same piece of music.
- Kevin...
Remember, just keep going.
Suddenly, as I started to play, I thought, maybe I could do it.
Maybe I could still play it, better than Ronald.
After all, I had a feel for music, right?
If I could just get through it, without making a mistake.
Or, even say, I made one little mistake.
But then it happened.
I started to feel their eyes, boring into me.
It was like a chain-reaction.
I couldn't stop it.
It just got worse. And worse!
It was the piano recital. From hell.
Then it was over.
Hey!
You had a little trouble.
OK, so you choked. But it's no big deal.
You'll do better tomorrow night.
Yeah...
You know, it's still not too late to change your mind...
Mom, I told you yesterday...
I just don't feel like playing in the recital.
I just don't want to take the lessons anymore.
But you practiced so hard!
It's no big deal.
- I just don't understand why... - Mom!
I'm just sick of piano, OK?
Dad said I didn't have to take lessons anymore...
if I didn't want to.
Can I go out for a while?
Paul and Doug are waiting for me.
- Well... - Thanks.
Kevin!
Don't stay out too late.
OK...
- So, Joe...
You predicted the Jets would beat the mighty Colts.
And here you are, the game's MVP...
- Well, how does it feel? - Oh, it feels great, Jim!
I mean, I can't describe it!
It's like being on top of the world!
Hi, mom!
Well, looks like it's getting...
a little dark here in the locker room,
so I guess we'll have to wrap up...
Yeah, it's gettin' kinda late. I better start headin' back.
- You comin', Paul? - Oh, no, not yet.
Emerson wants to be interviewed.
OK! See ya guys later!
Oh, hey, Joe!
Any last thoughts For our TV audience?
Tell 'em it's a night I'll never forget.
I never did forget that night.
I remember the light glowing from Mrs. Carples' window.
And I remember the darkness falling
as I sat out there on the street looking in.
And now...
More than twenty years later...
I still remember every note of the music that wandered out
into the still night air.
The only thing is,
I can't remember how to play it anymore.
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