There's one in every high school in America.
The trophy case.
Filled with winged statues, and siver-plated victory cups...
All monuments to the winning spirit.
To team play. To greatness on the field.
Not just anyone could get inside that case.
You had to be a winner.
You had to have determination. - Down!
Set! Fifteen!
You had to have... - Twenty-two! Twenty-five!
Guts. - Hut, hut!
And most importantly...
Arnold! Over here.
You had to make the cut.
Yeah, coach?
You gave it everything you got today, son.
Thanks!
That mean I made the team?
You gotta be jokin'. Hit the showers.
That fall of my sophomore year, one thing was clear.
No matter how hard I tried...
The wide world of sports wasn't wide enough to include me.
Face it. I was five-foot-four, and a hundred-and-ten pounds.
What team could I play on?
And that's when it hit me.
- Sorry. Slipped away from me. - That's OK.
- What's this? - It's a soccer ball. Why?
Well, nothing. I just...haven't seen that many around.
Keep in mind this was nineteen-seventy-one.
Soccer hadn't yet become the national past-time it is today.
- So do you play? - Oh, sure.
I kick it around a little.
Great.
Actually, I'm on the team.
Call it...A revelation.
- The team? - The soccer team. We started practice yesterday.
Wait a minute. Our school has a soccer team?
New this year. Pretty cool, huh?
Consider, if you will, the thoughts that ran through my head.
"A", McKinley High had a team no-one knew about.
And "B"...
Down by the brook, through the woods. Why, you interested?
"D".
It was worth a look.
But what I saw when I got there, was the biggest collection...
Of dorks since my fourth-grade cotillion class...
Playing on a moth-eaten field that was... Half-way to grandma's house.
This was definitely not for me.
Hey, you!
Glad you showed up.
We're pioneering the uncharted universe here.
- Great. Uh-huh.
But, uh...I don't think I really...fit in.
Why? I think you'd be great! And besides...we're one guy short!
Yeah. Well...thanks for telling me about it, anyway.
Hey...Being on a team was one thing. But playing with these jokers?
Hey! A little help? Kick it back!
Wow. Where'd you learn how to do that?
- What? - Kick like that.
I don't know. Lucky, I guess.
Yeah, well...good shot! Superstar.
The amazing thing was... These guys were serious.
So. You gonna join us?
And that's when I realized...in the land of the blind, the one-eyed man is king.
Well...maybe I'll go talk to the coach.
Great! He-he's over there. Pops McIntyre.
Go ahead.
It was kind of a big moment.
The future superstar stepping up to the man who would shape his athletic career.
Coach McIntyre?
The man...with all the answers.
The man...
You bring my juice?
Who wanted juice.
Uh...no.
Hot as hell out here, isn't it?
Yeah. It is.
So...what can I do for ya?
Well, actually...I came to sign up for the team.
Why's that?
Obviously, the coach didn't realize he was in the presence of such raw talent.
Well...Maybe you saw the way I just kicked the ball over there?
Yeah, I saw it.
On the other hand...This guy didn't just want another hot-dogger.
He wanted sincerity.
Listen. I don't know that much about soccer.
But I'd be willing to learn, and give it my best.
I just want to be part of the team.
Is that so?
And with that, our bond was forged.
The bond of trust. Admiration. Respect.
So, I...guess we'll be working together.
Suit yourself.
Where's my juice?!
No question about it.
It was the dawn of a new era.
Soccer? Is that where they use the brooms to sweep in front of the little...thingy?
That's curling, Mom. Soccer's where...
little boys chase the ball around in shorts and knee-socks.
Shut up, butthead!
Well, I'm very proud of you, honey.
Thanks, Mom.
Who's coachin'?
Uh, nobody.
Nobody?
Well, just some old guy named McIntyre.
McIntyre. Pops McIntyre?
You know him?
Huh. He was only the greatest football coach the school ever had.
Really?
Sure. That guy was a legend.
Yeah, the guy was one hell of a coach.
They called him "the bear".
Hmmm. Hard to believe the man...My father was talking about was the same Pops McIntyre.
The bear...Always pacin', always growlin'...
He never sat down.
Well, think of it this way...
Maybe the bear...was hibernating.
Pops?
Pops? Kick it back? Pops?
- Has anybody got another ball? It just didn't add up.
What was with this guy?
- So. How we doin'? - Fine, fine.
Well, what do you think about our prospects for this season?
Terrific. Where's my cushion? I know I left it somewhere...
At least one thing seemed clear...
When it came to coaching...this coach couldn't care less.
Guys, I think we are really gettin' good out there!
Yeah. We only kicked the ball over the fence three times today.
Dorks, goofballs, a coach who wouldn't coach...
Somehow this whole thing wasn't working out the way I'd planned.
What do you think, Kev?
About what?
Well, about how things are goin'.
Well...I don't know, guys.
I mean, I'm new here, but...doesn't it seem like somethin's missing?
Missing? Like what?
Well, I mean, we are playing soccer, right?
So...maybe we should start learning some plays.
Course, it was only a suggestion. Still...
Plays. Great idea!
It was like watching Edison invent the lightbulb.
What can I do for ya?
Well...we-we wanted to talk about learning some plays.
Plays?
Look, it's not that we don't appreciate what you've done for us so far, it's...
Just that...
Plays?
Well, look...What about this play-book?
Well...those are plays.
Well...Can we at least work from it?
I don't think that book's gonna do you a lot of good.
Still, even Pops couldn't quell... The tide of youth. Enthusiasm. Dorkdom.
But...If ya wanna learn plays...
Suit yourself.
- Terrific! / - Great! - Great! Thanks!
And there ya had it.
Guys! We got plays!
Sure, it wasn't much, but...It was a start.
And who knew? Maybe with the right combination of coaching and raw talent...
We'd actually make something of ourselves.
OK - seventeen! Thirty-four! Set back! OK! Twenty-four!
Red right! And...Hike!
Or maybe, just maybe...
It was gonna be the longest season in recorded history.
We could at least be...respectable.
Don't ya think?
Figured the least he could do here... Was throw me a bone.
I wouldn't count on it.
Not exactly your basic ringing endorsement.
Wait a minute. I don't get it.
My dad told me you used to be this great coach.
"The Bear", they called you.
You won six conference titles in a row.
He told ya that?
Yeah.
Did he tell ya about the fifty-seven team?
Great bunch of boys.
And for just a second... I actually saw a spark of real enthusiasm.
Eh...That was then. My coachin' days are over now.
Why?
They didn't want me.
They got a younger man...put me out to pasture, until...
Until this.
I did my best not to take it personally.
Yeah, but...Pops, we're a team, and...we need a coach.
There. A cry from the heart. Something even Pops couldn't deny.
One year away from my pension, and they saddle me with this.
Soccer.
Game day. The good news was... We had new uniforms. The bad news was...
Hey. Is it OK if we trade? Eight is my lucky number.
Sure.
We were the same team inside them.
Still, for some reason...
Call me crazy...
Call me naive, but I think we really have a chance today.
Come on - let's go!
These jokers weren't just giving up.
Maybe it was a tribute to the team spirit.
The power of positive thinking. The triumph of will over adversity.
Or...
Oh, my God...
Maybe it was plain stupidity.
Are those guys for real?
Our opponents could have passed for the Italian...National all-stars.
Leaving us only one small glimmer of hope.
Maybe it'll rain.
Ahhhhhhhhh-yowwwww!
"Get Up Offa That Thing" - James Brown
That afternoon, we gave it all we had.
We threw ourselves into it.
We did our dead-level best.
Unfortunatly
Our dead-level best...Stunk.
Pretty soon our problem was clear.
It was our goalie's fault.
But by halftime...
We'd run out of scapegoats.
- *****. I can't believe it. - You can take this stupid game.
It was horrible. We were getting our noses rubbed in it.
Clearly what was needed here was a pick-up, a pep talk.
A little Knute Rockney in guidance.
I don't wanna go back out there.
And suddenly I was seeing red.
Guys, I got somethin' to say.
If Pops wouldn't step forward, I would.
Look, we might not be the best soccer team that ever played.
In fact, we may not even be very good.
Or, any good. At all.
Hmmm. Possibly I was on a...Bad tack, here.
So I say, let's forget about what's happened so far.
And let's start thinking about what might happen.
OK?
Let's go!
And as I ran out of that locker room I had just one thought...
I only hoped someone was following me.
When I got back...On that field, I was mad.
I'd take these guys on myself, if I had to.
Hey! Wait for us! "William Tell Overture" - Gioacchino Antonio Rossini
When that whistle blew...
We actually got possession of the ball.
Over here!
And what's more amazing... We actually completed a pass.
Back to me, back to me!
Go. Leigh! Come on!
It was our finest hour.
Unfortunately...
We'd kicked the ball into the wrong net.
- I don't believe it! - You scored on our goal, bozo.
Don't call me bozo - "Spock brain"!
- Hey! - Listen, will you jerks just break it up?
- Who you callin' a jerk? - This is ridiculous!
- Who needs this?! - Look, you guys, calm down!
We completely fell apart.
It was like "Lord of the Flies".
And that's when it happened.
Look!
Pops was heading towards us to say it was over.
That we had...No hope of winning. That it was time to hang it up.
Kick it that way.
I don't know what it was that touched him.
Maybe it was the way we stuck together.
Maybe it was the way we were tearing apart.
But in that brief instant... Pops McIntyre became a coach again.
And we were finally...a team.
Come on, guys. Let's lose one for Pops.
Sure, we lost that day.
But it was a glorious defeat.
After all, all over America, there were teams like ours.
Teams that marched bravely into slaughter.
Teams that went oh-and-fifteen, and kept on losing.
And kept on trying.
Not for the league titles... Or the silver-plated victory cups.
But just for the joy of playing.
Together.
The thing is...I'll never forget those guys.
Even if they were dorks.
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