"Let's Go"
There it is! DiMaggio has hit in fifty-six straight games!
There are a lot of great records in sports.
Rocky Marciano fought to victory
in forty-nine straight heavyweight prize-fights.
The University of Oklahoma won
forty-seven college football games in a row.
But in the annals of sports...
There was one record that surpassed them all.
One destined to go unbroken for time immemorial.
Arnold wins! The crowd's going wild!
I had beaten Paul Pfeiffer at basketball...
As near as I can remember, seven hundred...
Eighty eight times in a row. Give or take a hundred.
Wanna play again?
Sure.
Loser's out.
It was a streak that went all the way back to kindergarten.
Maybe even before.
Hondo's bringing the ball up court
he's looking good, folks.
He goes left - he goes right...
He goes left!
Not that I was some kind of all-American.
It's just...I was me.
Whereas Paul...Paul was - Paul.
One - zip.
OK. No more "Mr. Nice-guy."
Really? / Count on it.
But we both knew better.
We knew some things never change.
And in basketball... / Steal!
As in our friendship...
Jumper from the corner.
I called the shots.
Men
Let's talk about...opportunity.
The opportunity...
To be part of something big.
Really big.
Bigger than all of us.
Who'd like to play?
Now ordinarily, the chance to play varsity ball...
is something any kid would jump at.
Hands!
In any other school...
Anyone.
In any other town...
For any other coach...
He must be dreamin'.
Yeah, no way I'm playing for that joker.
Kisling.
How about you?
But in the world...According to Ed Cutlip...volunteers weren't born.
What about you, Hill?
They were made.
Martinson.
Steele.
Made ya wonder if this was how they picked teams in Russia.
Who else?
What are you doing?
Call it wisdom...
Call it cowardice.
All I knew was... I was gonna dodge this bullet.
Pfeiffer.
Unfortunately...the bullet hit Paul.
Me?
Why me?
I don't know...
maybe he thought you were someone else.
Poor guy.
He'd become a victim of the system.
But don't worry - there's gotta be some way we can get you out of this.
Men.
Uh...hi, Coach!
So, Pfeiffer...see you at try-outs this afternoon, hmmm?
OK.
It was clear this kid needed help.
Ah...He can't make it.
He's busy with...Basoon lessons... after school.
Didn't know you were a basoon man.
I'm not.
I'll be there, Coach.
Atta fella.
Paul, why'd you do that?
Well, I don't know... He asked me...
Ah...come on, Paul... Get serious.
What do ya mean by that?
Man, you don't actually want to go to those try-outs, do ya?
Trust me... You don't want to do this.
Well, let's face it... the whole idea's a joke, right?
Maybe you're right...
Maybe it's stupid.
Course it was stupid.
Paul Pfeiffer on a basketball team was like...
Barney Fife working for the FBI.
Yeah, it's sure fun.
I don't believe it.
Hi, Paul!
Hi, guys!
Paul, where have you been?
I, I was... I was doing something.
Uh-huh.
Like trying out for the basketball team?
Well...yeah.
Really? How'd it go?
As if we couldn't guess.
Crash, and burn.
I think it went pretty well.
At least Coach Cutlip thought so.
You're kidding.
Well, I mean, I haven't made the team yet or anything,
but...so far, so good.
Well, I think that's great.
I'm so proud of you!
Aren't you proud of him, Kevin?
Sure.
Of course I was proud of him.
That went without saying. I was proud enough to say...
Paul? How about getting us another pitcher of soda?
You got it! This one's on me.
Hey, Woody, can you fill it for me?
Good old Paul.
Yeah.
But suddenly, "Paul was Paul"...
Wasn't quite Paul.
Something was different. Something was...
Wrong.
Come on. Let's play.
Now?
Yeah. Right now.
But I thought we were going to study for American history.
The War of 1812 was fought in, uh..1812.
There. We studied. OK?
Well, as it happens, it was fought in...
Your ball out.
OK...
Course, I was only looking for a game...
And maybe a few answers.
So, how come you didn't tell me you were trying out for the team?
Well, I did. Kinda.
Yeah, but then I thought we agreed it was a bad idea, didn't we?
You know, the whole thing about Cutlip, and -
Hey! He's not so bad...
What?
Well, he isn't. Really...
What was this? Heresy?
I just thought I'd, you know... give it a try.
Paul, you don't think you're gonna actually make the team, do ya?
I mean, come on, it's ridiculous. You can't even beat me.
You know?
I-I don't know, Kev. I just thought maybe I'd give it a shot.
One - nothin'.
So we played.
And for the first time ever... Paul didn't do...
A running commentary on the action.
To this day, I don't know... If I was really hot...
Or if Paul was really cold.
But, what I did know was...
I was teaching Paul a lesson.
Ow! Foul!
A lesson he'd never forget. / Hey...
And it was for his own good.
Swish!
Twenty one - three.
And the game. I win.
For the record...
Win number seven hundred and ninety.
So. Ya wanna go again?
Go ahead...
Free shot.
You know, people just don't always appreciate the nice things
you try to do for them...
The day after victory number seven-hundred and ninety,
things were a little touchy.
Hey.
But I didn't avoid Paul.
Hey.
And he didn't avoid me, either.
We were just...non-chalant.
I was non-chalant...
Hey./ He was non-chalant...
Hey.
It was kind of like the non-chalant challenge.
But by the end of the day it was clear.
Somebody had to break the ice.
What's goin' on?
Oh, nothing.
So, do you want to come over to my house after school today?
Can't.
Obviously a bald-faced lie.
Well, you know, I could really use your help studying for history.
I mean...that stuff's really tough, you know?
And besides, "Mission: Impossible"'s on at four th-
Thanks, but... I got something I gotta do.
Like what?
Basketball try-outs.
What?
I couldn't believe it.
I'd explained to him... Argued with him...
And the kid still wouldn't listen to reason.
Seeya.
And that settled that. If Paul insisted on being something he wasn't...
I had only one option left.
Millman!
Let's show a little hustle, huh?! Shake a leg!
It was time to appeal to a higher power. To use the term loosely.
Thompson! You want a tea party - go to Boston!
Mr. Cutlip?
Arnold.
I was wondering if we could talk for a second.
See...
It's about Paul. Paul Pfeiffer?
Ah. Pfeiffer...
He's not in any kind of trouble, is he? Drugs? Theft? Armed robbery?
Uh...
Good. Glad to hear it.
And...So much for small-talk.
It's just...I'm his best friend...
and, uh...he actually thinks you might put him on the team.
Oh, he does, does he?
Yeah. And...frankly...I think you might be leading him on.
That so?
Well, yeah. I mean...I play tons of B-ball with him in my backyard,
so, I should know. I beat 'em every time.
Ya know?
Course, in some way...I knew I was betraying my best friend.
But Facts were facts.
This isn't your backyard, son!
Huh?
Pfeiffer..
Look at 'em.
So I looked at Paul.
He still looked like the guy I'd beaten... Seven-hundred ninety times in a row.
The only thing is...
He didn't play like him.
Looking sharp there, Pfeiffer!
It was astonishing.
This was the man who'd launched a million air-balls...In my backyard?
I felt like I was watching a total stranger...
Some kid I'd never even met.
So, I did the only thing I could think of.
That a boy, Paul!
Way to go!
And there ya had it.
One word from me...
And suddenly, Paul was Paul again.
Air ball!
Come on, Pfeiffer! You're playin' like a girl!
Pankus!
Get in there for Pfeiffer!
Alright - let's hustle it up, now!
Hill!
After that, there didn't seem to be much reason to stick around any longer.
I mean, hey...
Martinson! The game is basketball!
Look it up in the dictionary, will ya?!
Come on!
Didn't want to embarrass the guy or anything.
I tried to study for my American history test that evening.
But somehow, I just couldn't concentrate.
Maybe there as a reason.
Butthead at three o'clock. Launch missile.
Wayne - knock it off, will ya?!
I'm tryin' to study!
Wayne!
What's the matter, little brother? You seem...troubled.
You want to talk about it?
/ No.
I understand. Some things... just too deep for words.
And even though I knew I should let the matter drop...
What do you mean by that?
You think I'm made out of stone?
Hey, I live around here.
I see things.
It's Paul, isn't it?
I mean...you carry the guy on your back for fourteen years,
and...now, he doesn't need you anymore. Ungrateful twerp.
But, uh, don't let it get to you. I mean...
The guys always been a loser, right?
It was...horrible. I one fell swoop...
My neanderthal brother..Had looked into my innermost feelings.
And it wasn't a pretty sight.
He's not a loser, Wayne.
Sure he is.
you know it, and I know it.
If he walks like a duck... If he talks like a duck...
then it must be the Pfeiffster.
But suddenly, I knew it wasn't true. Not any more.
And at that moment, I knew what I had to do.
Wayne! Think about it!
When you're fourteen... Bruises heal quickly.
Some of them, anyway.
But that night...
I felt a kind of hurt...I knew wasn't just gonna disappear.
Not by itself.
I want a game.
What? / You heard me.
I want a game.
Why? So I can beat ya one more time?
Who says you're gonna beat me?
Paul, I beat ya every time.
Yeah. Well maybe not this time.
Forget it. I don't really feel like lettin' ya win.
I want a game!
Paul, come on. I've been creaming ya for the past fourteen years!
What makes ya think it's ever gonna be any different?
Because! / Because what?
Because things change, Kev. I've changed.
Not to me.
I know.
Prove it. Loser's out.
One - zip.
One up.
That night...
Paul Pfeiffer and I played... The most important game of our lives.
Eight - six. Mine.
We both played hard.
And we both played to win.
And no game ever mattered more.
To both of us. / Eleven - ten. Mine.
Maybe change is never easy.
You fight to hold on.
You fight to let go.
But that night...
After seven-hundred ninety... Consecutive loses...
Paul finally beat me.
Paul made the basketball team that year.
And he had some loyal fans.
But his biggest fan...
Was also his best friend.
I guess sometimes you have to grow apart....
To keep growing together.