This 1916 portrait shows us
Ty Cobb in his Detroit Tigers uniform...
"the Georgia Peach. "
Note the smug expression
and the haunting set of eyes.
These disturbing eyes can be
seen in the earliest photo
ever taken of young Ty.
Here, we see the famous swing
of the great Ty Cobb.
Turn the clock back
to the beginning of the century...
when America first embraced baseball...
and the exchanging of the ground rules
became a pre-game ritual...
that survives to this day.
At that time, professional baseball
was a casual game...
with a circus atmosphere.
Baseball players were often clowns...
and pre-game antics
took on the flavor of vaudeville.
But young Ty Cobb
would have none of that.
He turned the game into war...
and in the process,
invented the modern game as we know it.
Here, we see him running
over a first sacker on a drag bunt:
a play he perfected.
The aggressive, attacking game
was virtually Cobb's invention.
Infielders and catchers often bled
from his spikes.
Cobb would fight any man on or off
the field at the drop of a hat.
Batting champion 12 times...
he averaged over .300
for 23 consecutive years...
and averaged over .400
for a five-year stretch.
His lifetime batting average of .367...
has never been seriously approached.
The first celebrity athlete
in American history...
movie stars and presidents
all sought his company.
Here Cobb poses with his great archrival...
the legendary Babe Ruth.
Here we see Cobb
with one of his five children:
his little daughter Shirley.
Here, he poses with some kids
from the neighborhood.
And, here, he shows his son
his curious hands-apart grip.
Though he was unable to teach
his flaming, competitive heart.
Charged with fixing games in 1926...
Cobb was roundly supported
by the children of America...
who came to the great batsman's defense.
The supposed scandal proved to be
much ado about nothing...
when baseball commissioner Judge Landis
fully acquitted the Georgia Peach...
of all wrongdoing.
...that is the very backbone
of America itself.
Near the end of his career...
Cobb joined the Philadelphia Athletics,
and at the age of 41...
he batted .323 and retired shortly
thereafter, telling the world:
"If a man can't hit better than that,
he ought to quit. "
Ty Cobb dominated the game
as no man ever had.
Yes, ladies and gentlemen...
what a ballplayer!
Hey, Stump.
Stumpy!
Gentlemen.
Get over here. We've got to settle this.
Stump! Come on!
Congrats, Al.
Four pieces in national magazines
this month.
Five.
You're the man, Stumpy.
Stumpy, 3:45, you're late.
Where have you been?
Stumpy, best fighter, pound for pound?
Joe Louis, a champ for 11 years.
Walker Smith, Jr.
better known to you dilettantes...
as Sugar Ray Robinson.
For Christ's sake, retired undefeated...
Henry Armstrong held three titles
at the same time.
No other fighter...
We call ourselves writers,
and all we do is watch ball games...
argue about everything,
and just get drunk a lot.
- You call that writing?
- Yeah!
Besides, Alan here
is writing a serious novel, aren't you?
Well, I haven't started yet,
but I'm going to.
- I've been very busy-
- By the end of the century...
You're pathetic!
The only reason you write is for a paycheck.
Besides, greatest fighter,
Harry Greb, 294 fights, no contest.
The guy killed everybody.
My ass! He couldn't beat Harry Belafonte.
Belafonte, best singer, male.
- Elvis.
- Perry Como.
Three words! Francis Albert Sinatra.
What about Nat "King" Cole?
Best king. I've got Henry VIII...
who started a new religion
and had six wives-
King James had a Bible named after him.
Stump! The phone!
- King, Bible-
- King David.
King David, best Jew.
Best king? King Kong!
Best monkey.
Who? Who?
Yes, sir, I certainly would.
Yes, sir, I can.
Yes, sir. Fine, thank you.
Cobb wants to see me.
- Cobb who?
- Ty Cobb. How many Cobbs do you know?
Cobb? But Cobb is dead.
Not yet, he ain't.
And he wants to tell me the real story
of his life before he croaks.
That was Ty Cobb on the phone right there?
I heard he killed a man.
Stumpy, he's crazy, he's meshuga.
Stumpy, listen to me.
You've got to be careful with Cobb.
Come on, the guy's over 70.
Is he going to wheeze on me?
I think I can handle him.
Besides, he wants to see me.
Cobb wants to see me!
Greatest ballplayer of all time.
- Ty Cobb!
- Ty Cobb!
- Ty Cobb.
- I like Ruth.
- Ruth?
- Babe Ruth.
Ever heard of him?
Cobb owned property all over the country.
Of late, he had been
staying in his hunting lodge...
at Lake Tahoe in the Sierra Nevada.
Stories of Cobb sharpening his spikes
before a game were as familiar as...
George Washington and his cherry tree...
or Teddy Roosevelt
charging up San Juan Hill.
I also knew his reputation
for being difficult
at best, psychotic at worst.
By his own admission,
he set out to hurt his opponents.
In one season alone,
he sent 12 men to the hospital.
Bullshit! Go ahead and quit then, Willie!
Go ahead and quit!
Get the hell out of here!
Now, Mr. Cobb, you racist! Fuck you!
You ain't no greatest baseball player!
My ass plays better baseball than you!
I'm out of here! You ain't got to tell me.
Now, fuck you, Mr. Cobb!
I have too much dignity to spend
another moment with you.
I hope you die before the sun comes up,
and may you rot in hell!
Excuse me. Who are you?
I'm the writer.
You mean, he actually found someone
to take the job?
Write all you've got...
he makes somebody dance
Yankee Doodle Dandy on his ass.
I'm out of here.
I've never seen nobody like that before.
Go on!
You'll never last a day
with that old bastard!
You're gonna write that shit?
Talking about
"he's the greatest player of all time. "
My ass play better baseball than him!
I'm out of here.
I'm never gonna work for you no more!
Don't ask me to come back!
I'm free, and I'm glad to be out of here.
This is America, you old motherfucker!
Freedom!
This is the land of "Oh, say can you see. "
Kiss my ass with a...
Mr. Cobb?
- Mr. Cobb?
- Where's that sportswriter at?
Mr. Cobb?
Hello, Mr. Cobb.
Thank you very much, Mr. Cobb,
but I don't need this job that bad.
Yes, Mr. Stump,
you do need this job that bad.
Now, come on in here
and meet the great Ty Cobb!
Oh, man, he's nuts.
Don't let him get you.
I won't hurt you. Come on.
I won't hurt you.
Come on in here.
On the violin, Fritz Kreisler.
I'm a great admirer of his.
I'm also a great admirer of yours.
Thank you.
You are a hopeless romantic...
and only a moderate success, however.
Sir, I'm the highest-paid sportswriter
in America...
and not merely a "moderate success. "
Of course.
Hand me those green and white pills
right there, please.
That is an invitation
to a testimonial dinner...
at the Baseball Hall of Fame
in Cooperstown, New York.
Young man, you're gonna take me there.
When is it?
In a few weeks.
All the great ones are gonna be there!
The great Mickey Cochrane,
"Wahoo" Sam Crawford...
Jimmie Foxx, Rogers Hornsby,
the Waner boys...
Goddamn, we used to have
some parties, Stump.
I'm gonna tell you that right now.
We can't forget.
I won't forget.
Look at me closely, Al.
Lie after lie has been told about me.
My entire life, I've been misunderstood.
You are the very fortunate
young sportswriter...
who has been chosen
to tell the true story...
of Ty Cobb.
- Great. What's the true story?
- That's why you're here.
See, there's two kinds
of writers in this life.
Ones that spin endless yarns
about tiny little subjects, that's you...
and the ones with one big subject...
that consumes them forever,
that could be you...
because I am that subject.
Are you okay?
Jameson!
Jameson, get your ass up here.
Sir?
There's a small oil company
in Bakersfield near Elk Hills Reserve...
called Honolulu Oil Company.
You buy all the stock in it that you can.
Getty's expanding,
I'm looking for little companies like that.
I've got a hunch.
Stump, come over here to me.
I think I can take that buck.
What do you think?
With that pistol, I don't believe so.
There's a board meeting at
Coca-Cola in Atlanta.
Tell them I can't make it
for medical reasons.
No, personal reasons.
And sell everything I've got in 3M.
Got him!
Like hell you did!
- I shot her damn throat out!
- You are so full of shit!
If Mr. Cobb says he got him, he got him.
Then you're full of shit, too.
You have no goddamn vision.
A writer with no vision is a waste of time.
I've hired the wrong son of a bitch.
I better head back to San Francisco
before the storm hits.
I'll take care of these transactions.
And I will be leaving, too, since you think
I'm the wrong man for the job.
Shut up, Stump,
we both know I'm your meal ticket.
I beg your pardon?
We need each other.
We'll start in the morning.
No!
Yeah, bright and early.
Mr. Cobb, I don't think
I've made myself perfectly clear.
Mr. Cobb!
Ready.
Chapter 1, page 1.
Ready!
"Know ye that a prince and a great man
has fallen this day. "
What the hell is that?
That is what Robert Lee said over the grave
of my grandfather at Fredericksburg.
So I'm taking notes?
Hell no,
it's the first line of my autobiography.
- I'm not writing that.
- Why not?
It's horseshit.
It's a third-person comment
about somebody who's already dead.
An autobiography has to be
in the first person...
plus it can't come from the other side
of the goddamn grave.
My story can come
from any damn place I want.
Not to mention the fact...
you can't call yourself
a prince and a great man.
That's for the-
What kind of a writer are you,
tied up in rules and regulations?
What's the use of a writer
if you can't say what want?
You're not treating me like a writer,
you're treating me like a stenographer.
"... that a prince and a great man...
"has fallen this day. "
- It has a certain ring to it.
- It certainly does.
And I thought you might like it.
It's yours, it's a gift.
From me.
"Cobb...
"a prince among men...
"misunderstood in his genius...
"as genius always is... "
That's the second line
from what's gonna be...
the greatest biography
of a great man ever written.
Type the damn thing up!
Bethlehem Steel is going in the toilet.
I'll be a striped-ass ape!
Jameson, Bethlehem Steel's
going in the toilet. Dump it all right now.
You got a stock tip for me?
Buy Coca-Cola.
We're about to go out in cans.
Coke in cans? I don't believe so.
You know what's wrong with Ty Cobb?
Every goddamn disease known to man,
I've got them all.
But they ain't never gonna get me
into a hospital.
My heart leaks. My doctors, nothin' but
a bunch of hacksaw artists...
give me Digoxin to keep it pumping.
They give me Darvon
for the cancer in my back.
They give me Tace
for something eating up my stomach.
They give me Fleets compound
for an infection in my bowels!
They give me Librium for my tension.
They give me insulin for diabetes.
But this stuff...
This stuff, Stumpy...
can fucking kill you.
And if that wasn't enough...
it's been two years
since I got my pecker up in the air.
The South may not rise again, young man,
but my dick will.
I soon discovered
I couldn't be around the man for long...
without needing a break,
which his painkillers gracefully provided.
My sanity would soon depend
upon a frequent breath of fresh air...
a walk in the woods, any escape
from what one sportswriter had called:
"Cobb's brooding soul,
that bubbled with violence. "
Oh, my God!
Good news, Stumpy.
We're going to Reno. I'm horny.
There's a blizzard out there!
When a man wants a woman,
a man wants a woman!
Why don't we put on some soup?
We'll build a fire, work on the book.
How cozy.
Got $25,OOO in cash
and negotiable securities right there.
Don't let it out of your sight.
You're nuts! Those roads are impassable!
- You lead, I'll follow.
- You don't understand.
- I'm not going anywhere!
- You don't understand. I need a woman.
Get the hell out of the way!
You call that driving, Alice?
My sister can drive better than that!
Step on it! Let's go!
Get on down the road.
Them girls are gonna die of old age
before we get down there.
Are you nuts?
Get off my ass!
All right, little girl,
I'll take you to school.
How was your first driving lesson, Alice?
Couldn't take it?
Too bad.
Shit!
Driving lesson number two!
Step on it, will you?
All right, young man. Follow the leader!
We're gonna get laid!
Go ahead! Just go!
Fuck you!
"Good news, Stumpy. I'm horny. "
Better news, Cobb. You're fucking crazy!
Oh, boy. What the hell is that?
Oh, God. He's dead.
Ty Cobb bought the farm.
It's about fucking time you got here.
You're alive?
I wouldn't call it living, but it'll do.
Help me out of this son of a bitch!
Give me your hand.
- God, there's blood.
- Of course there's blood.
I just put my head through the windshield
of a goddamn car!
What do you expect?
Oh, my God! I'm maimed!
- Am I gonna be-
- Shut the fuck up and get in the car!
Look at that!
Get in the fucking car!
- Stupid bastard. Come on, let's go!
- You gotta get me out of here.
Let's get out of here! Just hold on to me.
Let's go. Come on!
Let's get out of here. Stump, lead on!
Come on!
- Oh, shit!
- Ruined a pair of gloves, shit!
Look at that!
No goddamn guardrail! I'm gonna sue
the State Highway Commission!
I'm suing the governor,
I'm suing every-goddamn-body!
Stumpy, I could've been hurt up here!
You could have been hurt? Get in the car!
- Give me the keys, I'm driving.
- No, I'm driving!
You know the way to Reno? No!
Give me the keys, I'm driving!
- Over my dead body!
- That's your call, young man.
Now, no sudden moves.
You miserable son of a bitch!
You frightened, desperate, pathetic old man!
Get out of here!
You can't do anything without that gun...
and frankly, it doesn't impress me
if you keep waving it around...
because I know you're not gonna shoot me!
You need me a lot worse than I need you!
What, are you gonna kill me?
I killed a man one time!
Fine, then shoot me
and put me out of my fucking misery...
because I'm freezing!
Okay, Stumpy, that's good.
I like a man who stands up to me.
That's good, son.
- Come on, let's go.
- Give me the keys, I'm driving.
It's only an hour. I can tell you my story
before we get to those women.
Women? Plural?
Some for me and some for you.
We're gonna have a hell of a time.
I bet them girls are lining up now
for ol' Ty and Stump.
Why don't you worry less about women
and stay on the road?
My philosophy is simply this.
Life is too short to be diplomatic.
A man's friends should not care
what he does or says.
Those who are not his friends,
to hell with them.
You wanna know about my childhood?
That's what writers
usually wanna know about.
Fine, but none of this "know ye that
a prince and great man has fallen" stuff.
I was born in a small town in north Georgia.
My daughter lives there to this day.
I started playing baseball as a kid,
like everybody else.
- But I was better than everybody else.
- Watch!
I started playing for money when I was 17.
Father didn't approve.
Fathers will be that way. Watch the road.
Father was a great man.
He was also a learned man, a professor.
He was being groomed for governor
from the day in 1900 he was elected mayor.
...Franklin County politics,
and I will deliver.
I promise that City Hall will be...
He was the pillar of Franklin County.
Head Deacon in the Baptist church.
My father was everything.
Blood drawn from Emmanuel's veins
And sinners plunged
into that flood
My mother was the most beautiful woman
in the county.
She married my father when she was 12,
which was the way they used to do it.
And she taught me to believe in the hymns
we sang in church.
I especially liked the bloody ones.
"And the sinners plunged beneath that flood
lose all their guilty stains. "
In the name of the father, the Son...
and the Holy Ghost, I was baptized.
And a short time later...
walking home with my pals...
feeling very Christian...
ready to live the good life...
my father didn't drink, smoke,
gamble, or chase women...
and I wasn't going to, either.
All of a sudden...
there was a train coming at us...
on the southbound track.
There I was,
a newly baptized child of God...
who hadn't hardly sinned,
and I was gonna die.
I felt strangely calm...
and as the train got closer,
I just stood there...
and stood, and stood.
Hell, I knew when to jump.
That was the greatest thrill of my life...
not counting the first time
I saw a woman naked.
I felt protected by my father...
by my mother, the baptism.
I don't know, but From that moment on...
I knew I could not be hurt.
My father died in a terrible accident,
you know?
No, I didn't.
My father was murdered.
Isn't that the kind of thing
you're looking for?
Murdered.
Your father was murdered?
It happened when I was 17...
about three or four days
before Detroit called me up.
- Was the killer ever caught?
- There was an arrest,
trial, an acquittal...
but never a conviction.
Jesus Christ. I'm sorry.
Don't give me that sob-sister crap.
The only thing that matters
is a man's accomplishments.
I must say, in all humility...
I'm the greatest baseball
player of all time.
Nobody even comes a close second.
They say I used to sharpen my spikes.
Georgia Peach, my ass, you son of a bitch!
You're gonna get hurt today,
you son of a bitch.
You wanna do it right now, or out there?
Come on back here.
But I ask you:
Can you hurt a man worse by cutting him up
with dull, rusty steel...
or a finely honed, razor-sharp edge?
You could view my efforts as humanitarian.
Double left, steal third, steal home.
- Eight to one.
- Bullshit!
- Ten to one.
.$1oo.
Leroy, come and hold this man's money.
You ain't going to be holding it long.
What in the hell is going on in this dugout?
Where did all these newspapers come from?
What are you doing?
When did you learn how to read?
Why don't you get your head
in the ballgame?
Hello to each and every one of you.
- Who signed you?
- Go to hell, Cobb.
Who did that?
Excellent day for a game of ball.
- How do you do, Cyclops?
- Shut up, Cobb.
You're missing an excellent ball game.
By the way...
your wife left these
in my automobile last night.
I thought you might wanna
take them back to her.
Let's see what we have on the mound today.
- Play ball!
- Come along!
Strike one!
Is that all your boy has?
This must be a hometown boy. Look at this.
You better check your wife.
One of the ballplayers are missing.
Come on, boy.
You're going down, Cobb.
Ball!
Is that the fastest you can throw?
If I couldn't throw any better than that,
I'd wear a dress!
It's kind of tough hittin'
from your back, ain't it?
That's the way your mother always liked it.
Play ball!
- Safe!
- Get out of here, boy!
You should've thrown it at my head!
You should've tried to kill me!
I hear you're from Georgia,
where the men are men...
- and the sheep are nervous.
- Get back on that hill.
I'm gonna steal third on you, young man.
I'm coming down there!
That's enough!
Come on, Cobb!
You want in on the action?
My grandmother throws better than that!
- I'm coming down to kick your daggone ass!
- Come on!
I should've stuck it in that bastard's ear
when I had a chance.
He's going, he's going!
Safe!
Son of a bitch!
In those days, you didn't hold hands
and dance with the men on the other teams.
They were the enemy
and you fought with them.
And I was the most hated man in baseball.
You know what it's like
to be booed like that?
It feels wonderful!
They couldn't live without me!
They came to the ball park to see me!
fifty thousand fans trying to kill me,
everywhere I went.
I had so many death threats at one time...
the cops had to patrol the outfield
and the stands, looking for snipers.
I loved it!
Hey, Cobb! Just stay out of my game...
Only great men are booed, Stump.
Captains of industry, presidents,
I knew them all.
It was a fact, in those days,
that Woodrow Wilson had the best scotch...
and used to invite me to the White House
to try it out.
It was also a Fact
that Warren Harding had the best broads...
and threw the best damn parties.
I can tell you right now
that Calvin Coolidge...
and that stupid cat of his
weren't any fun at all.
After World War Il, General George Patton
asked me for my autograph.
Said he'd patterned himself after me.
- You getting all this?
- I'll remember.
- How come you don't write it down?
- Because I'm preparing to die.
- I'm not ready to die.
- I'm not either!
I'm going to Reno to get laid,
and you're gonna get laid.
Maybe I don't want to get laid.
You queer?
- I'm married.
- I thought you were divorced.
No, we're having a problem,
but we're talking it out.
"Talking. " Shit. Quit hanging on.
Get you a divorce.
That why you won't get laid in Reno?
You're feeling loyal to a woman
you're gonna divorce?
That's pretty stupid, Stumpy.
I'm not getting a divorce. I'm being loyal.
That's why you wined and dined
the little brunette...
who had the office across the courtyard
from you in Santa Barbara?
- What do you know about her?
- I do my homework.
- It didn't last long.
- You don't have to explain.
When it comes to women, I'm a total shit.
The difference is, I know I'm a shit.
- Nobody knows about the brunette!
- It's our secret.
The part about me being a shit with women
ain't going in the book.
- I gotta put your family in my book.
- Your book? My book!
Nothing about my ex-wives
or my children is gonna be in it.
- My book is about baseball.
- My book is about Cobb.
Cobb is baseball!
Look.
What is that?
- That's a man!
- Fuck him.
Stop the car.
Whoever it is,
gotta be pretty stupid to be
out in this shit.
Why? We're out in this shit.
Come on! Get in the car.
What the hell are you doing out here?
- It's you!
- It's the writer!
- Get in the damn car.
- Thank you.
I can't believe you found me.
I told you, you wouldn't last a day
with that bastard.
Cobb's in the car. He's driving.
Mr. Cobb's in the car? I ain't getting
in the car with that son of a bitch.
- I'd rather-
- Get in the car!
- He hates me. He hates colored people.
- He hates all fucking people!
Don't give him the satisfaction
of dying out here.
If dying out here gives him pleasure,
then I won't die out here.
It's Willie. We'll get him over to town.
I ain't taking that nigger anywhere.
Get your ass out of here.
Shut the fuck up and give him a lift!
You ain't gonna shoot me. He's bluffing.
No, I won't. But I'm sure Willie here
will take great satisfaction in it.
- Willie, you a baseball fan?
- Yes, sir.
Who's the greatest ballplayer,
in your opinion?
Willie Mays, no doubt about it.
- That nigger couldn't hold my jockey strap.
- Excuse me, the man is speaking.
And I'd say, the second-greatest player
is Jackie Robinson.
- You know that's horseshit.
- Josh Gibson is the greatest catcher.
- What about Mickey Cochrane?
- What about Campanella?
You try to steal on Campy,
he'd run down there and tag your ass out.
That's very poor firearm safety, Willie.
Willie, who was the best base runner?
Well, of course, the greatest base runner
of all time isn't riding in this car.
No?
The fastest base runner of all time
was "Cool Papa" Bell.
"Cool Papa" Bell, my ass.
"Cool Papa" Bell was so fast,
once he hit a line drive up the middle...
that hit himself in the head
sliding into second base.
Okay, best pitcher. Satchel Paige?
Satchel Paige can throw a pork chop
past a wolf.
Mr. Cobb, with that hesitation pitch...
old Satchel would have had you
batting .220 and kissing his black ass.
I didn't know you were prejudiced,
only talking about nigger ballplayers.
Prejudiced? You calling me prejudiced?
The man with the gun does the talking.
You wretched old prick.
Slow down, Mr. Cobb.
Watch it.
What the hell are you doing?
That's it. I'm driving.
Get your hands off
the goddamn steering wheel.
Fucked up roads, Stumpy.
Thank you, Lord.
And I want to thank you, Mr. Cobb...
for the lift into town.
And you, sir...
you should leave
this disgusting, wretched...
sorry son of a motherfucker immediately.
Good evening.
Oh, thank you, Jesus.
Oh, Lord, there's Reno, Nevada.
What is the problem now?
I'm a loyal customer...
All you do is complain.
Complain? Have you ever tried drying off
with one of your towels?
You can see through them.
You cannot see through them.
Plus, people steal them.
I can't keep good ones in stock.
They're thicker than your blankets.
Two rooms, please.
Get in line. I'm in the middle of something.
The heat's on the blink.
The mattress is lumpy. I want a discount.
- Mona, you always want a discount.
- Ramona.
And the mattress is-
Excuse me, I got a very sick man.
Can I get him checked in, please?
We're all sick in the eyes of God,
but we still have manners.
- I'm not through with you yet, Jane.
- Ramona-
I'm moving down the street.
As a matter of fact,
I'm moving to a higher-level establishment.
May I help you?
Two rooms, please.
I was a fool for thinking
Cobb's brilliance...
might be what I needed
at this moment of my life.
Ty Cobb was the last thing I needed.
He was not misunderstood.
He was understood perfectly well.
He hated blacks. He hated Jews.
He hated Catholics.
He hated everything except himself
and his own view of the world.
"Pathetic, paranoid, and lost in the past. "
What is this shit?
Those are my notes.
You can't look at my notes.
Your fucking notes is my goddamn life.
You're gonna betray me.
I'm gonna tell the truth.
- Whose truth?
- Mine. I'm the writer.
And I am the legend,
and legends are not fucking pathetic.
They're just notes.
You don't know a thing
about greatness, do you?
So sue me.
Why don't you find yourself another writer?
There's no time.
Okay, I'm entitled to my opinion.
That is truly pathetic.
Who gives a good goddamn
about the opinions of Al Stump?
What people want to know about
is Tyrus Raymond Cobb...
not who he hates,
'cause everyone hates somebody.
They don't care if he had two wives or 10,
if he hit women or they hit him.
You think they want to know
how to steal second base?
Yes, precisely!
I don't.
I get it. You're one of these
college psychology-type fellows.
You want to find the missing piece
of the puzzle known as the Madman Cobb.
You think you'll be
the next Ernest Hemingway?
You're just a moderate-sized success
in a moderate-sized pond.
Fuck you, Cobb.
I am much more than a moderate success.
You sure have a little spirit there.
I like that. That's good.
You want some goddamn psychology, son?
I'm all ears.
You listen to me.
I'll give you some psychology.
My father was a great man.
He told my mother he was going out of town
for the weekend on business.
But he didn't go.
He came back, because he thought
she was being unfaithful.
I don't know why he thought it,
but he thought it.
My father thought he would catch the man
who was trying to steal his wife from him.
Catch him in the act.
My father had high standards. The highest.
He believed in quality.
He believed in education.
He believed in God.
He believed in me.
He believed in my mother.
But on that night...
he seemed like a prowler.
And so...
my mother killed my father.
Shot him in the belly...
and then blew his head clean off.
Your mother killed your father?
Pretty goddamn good piece of psychology,
wouldn't you say?
Childhood incident that explains me.
Let me tell you something.
I was a prick before it happened,
and a much bigger prick after it happened.
You can stick that
up your Sigmund Freud ass.
- Your mother killed your father?
- And you're not printing it, either.
- I have to.
- No, not unless I say so.
I don't think you understand something,
young man.
- I have final editorial
approval of your book.
- No, I do.
I always have it.
Did you read your contract?
It's my standard contract.
I wouldn't have agreed
if I didn't have final approval.
You better call your agent, boy, right now.
Better call your lawyer.
Wouldn't hurt to call your mother.
You're gonna need all three of them.
Play another one of your games.
You better call William and Morris.
Long distance, please.
Murray Hill, 65955.
Sterling? Al.
Sterling?
No, it's going great. Couldn't be better.
Look, quick question.
We didn't give away final editorial approval
on the Cobb book, did we?
Doesn't change anything?
What are you talking about?
Everything's just swell. Hunky-dory.
Everything's just fine.
Speak to you later. Bye.
You're pretty damn stupid
to give up editorial approval, aren't you?
Predatory bastard.
Think you're going to pick over my bones...
- you got another think coming.
- Fuck you, Cobb.
Fuck me? How come you're so mad at me?
Your publisher, your lawyer,
and your agent made the deal.
You didn't read the contract
because you're a very trusting soul.
Whoever heard of trusting
a lawyer or an agent?
If I was Al Stump, the man
I'd be pissed off at now would be Al Stump.
Listen to me, you son of a bitch.
If you die before this book is finished...
I'll write the story I want.
I won't die before it's finished.
- I'll write slow.
- I'll die slow.
Get your clothes on.
We're going to go get some pussy.
for you're the lover I have waited for
You're the man that Fate had me created For
And every time your lips meet mine
Baby, down and down I go
Round and round I go
In a spin, loving the spin I'm in
Cigars? Cigarettes?
Mr. Cobb, what a pleasure.
I'll take that. Take their coats.
In a spin, loving the spin I'm in
Thank you.
- Watch your step.
- Get your hand off me.
I just stay away, but what can I do
- Guess they know you here.
- A little bit.
Cigars, cigarettes!
I'll bet you $100
I can get into her britches before dawn.
My God, it's Mona. Ramona.
We met her at the hotel, remember?
Young lady. Come on over here.
Good evening, gentlemen.
Cigars, maybe? We stockpiled Havanas
before Seor Castro did his little number.
Sure. Couple of Montecristos, please.
Number Two, Ramona.
- Have we met?
- Yes, at the hotel. Checking in.
You were the asshole.
Excuse me, young lady.
I'll apologize for the manners of my friend.
He has a crude side.
I accept.
Ramona. That's a lovely name.
That's a Spanish name.
That means "moonlit garden of the gods,"
doesn't it?
It's German. It means "wise protectress."
But thanks for the thought.
Thanks for the tip.
Just a minute here.
I want to see all your cigars.
Keely, got something for you.
Thank you very much. We loves you, too.
You're a great crowd.
I've been informed
that we have a celebrity with us tonight.
A legend.
A man who truly needs no introduction.
I'm gonna play a little
trick on you, darling.
You watch this.
The one and only Ty Cobb.
Got you, didn't I?
Didn't think you'd be in show business,
did you, darling?
Come on here with me,
and we'll cut a rug up here!
Sweet Georgia Brown.
I don't think this is such a good idea.
I can't wait till she kisses me
Under the old green tree
"Moonlit garden of the gods. "
Since she came, it's a shame
how she cools 'em down
There are fellers she can't get
There are fellers she ain't met yet
Georgia named her, Georgia claimed her
Sweet Georgia Brown
Come on up here with Louis.
Come on, right here, darling. Love you.
They want you, Ty.
Of course they want me.
Sam, I see you over there now.
How you doing, baby?
How about this right here, baby?
She can't get
How about a little smooch?
You're very sweet. That's great, darling.
All right!
Sweet Georgia Brown!
This cat can really swing.
Help Louis welcome Mr. Ty Cobb.
It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Cobb.
I'm a big baseball fan,
so I always wanted to ask you a question.
With all the great players
playing ball right now...
how well do you think you'd do
against today's pitchers?
Against today's pitchers,
I'd probably hit only. 290.
That's amazing...
because you batted over .400
a whole bunch of times.
Now tell us all, we'd like to know...
why do you think you'd only hit .290?
I'm 72 fucking years old,
you ignorant son of a bitch, that's why.
Let me see this thing here.
first of all, I want to say
thank you for Sweet Georgia Brown.
A very fine song about my home state,
and I appreciate it.
That song has become the theme song
of the Harlem Globetrotters lately.
It's too bad such a fine song had to be
taken over by a bunch of niggers...
playing a faggot's game in their underwear.
That team is owned by a Jew
named Saperstein, so what do you expect?
Thank you very much, Mr. Cobb.
- Now let me explain-
- Thank you very much.
Let's have one more round of applause
for Mr. Ty Cobb.
Give me the damn microphone,
you daggone bastard.
Get this cracker off my stage.
Let me explain how to hit a baseball.
It's a lost art.
Ever since that half-nigger Babe Ruth
started hitting home runs...
the skill, art and science of it
have been lost.
Let's say, for example...
- Tom Collins?
- Coming right up, Joanna.
It's you again.
Hey, I didn't get your friend's name.
Who is that?
That is Ty Cobb.
The greatest baseball player of all time.
Baseball, shmaseball
he should have been a dancer.
Gotta tell you, the guy likes to lead.
So hard to follow.
I haven't been spun around like that
for I don't know how long.
You and me both.
You are a beautiful woman.
It's the wig. Goddamn thing itches
but it's good for tips.
Give me a little scratch, will you?
Little faster.
Very nice.
Artie, another round. On him.
Ramona, you're still on the clock.
We have rules here.
You can't sit next to your hair.
Sit under your hair.
Gotta put your wig on.
My follicles need to breathe,
and my shift is over.
It's crooked. Your wig's crooked.
It's tilted too much.
- If you pick it up over the eyebrow-
- Does it bother you?
No, not at all.
I like it.
I suppose you want to take me to bed.
Is that right?
You want money?
I'm not a whore.
I don't know what you take me for.
- That's one of the most insulting things-
- I'm sorry.
I'm not very good at this.
Let me start over.
My name is Al Stump. I'm a writer.
I'm here on assignment.
- Divorced?
- Not yet.
What a stupid answer.
- Is it that obvious?
- It's written all over you.
If you want to pay me to screw, I won't.
- Then I won't.
- Pay or screw?
- Whatever.
- You don't wanna screw?
- I do.
- All this ambiguity.
I see why she's divorcing you.
I don't know what I am doing.
I'm just trying to speak my heart.
I asked my wife for a divorce.
She said, "Okay. "
Now I'm thinking, maybe I don't.
- Then go back to her.
- No.
Then quit crying.
You want a divorce,
you don't want a divorce?
You're asking marital advice from a woman
you're trying to get in the sack.
I'm sorry. I gotta apologize.
I'm really not myself.
Who is?
This assignment has got me
totally befuddled.
Am I to tell the world
that this monster is a prince?
Am I just supposed to lie?
- You getting paid?
- Very well.
Then it's not a lie. It's a job.
Quit agonizing. Take the money.
- Do what you gotta do,
and get it over with.
- I can't.
- Then quit.
- I can't.
- For God's sake, why not?
- Because he knows greatness.
I wanna learn about greatness.
Greatness is overrated.
Maybe you're right.
I'm sorry I bothered you.
I've been a little out of sorts.
See you around.
I'm an expert on out of sorts.
Don't drink too much.
You think I won't be able to screw
if I'm too drunk?
Yeah, that crossed my mind.
Screw...
Hey, I love this song.
You are so thoughtful.
The others are trying to get me drunk...
and you're trying to keep me sober.
You'd be good husband material.
Let's dance.
Honey, I was...
Let's dance, Ginger.
Ramona.
Maybe this isn't such a good idea.
You two-timing bastard!
You goddamn Judas Iscariot!
You're stealing my girl.
Stop that. She's not your girl.
Are you crazy?
Mr. Stump, are you okay?
You're coming with me, young lady.
Come on here, God damn it!
What's that?
It's my hair.
Put it back on.
That's better.
Who are you again?
I'm the Georgia Peach.
And I have 4,191 base hits...
in 11,429 at-bats...
920 stolen bases...
2,244 runs scored...
and 93 batting records...
and I want you take off
every stitch of your clothes.
I don't think so.
That don't scare me.
'Cause if you kill me, I'll be dead,
and you're not gonna screw a dead lady.
I might like it.
Now you take off them goddamn clothes.
You got big tits?
I like big tits.
Actually they're not so big.
They're quite average.
That's the way they stuff these outfits,
you know, they just...
build them.
I owe a lot to these wigs and things.
A girl's got to do what she's got to do,
you know.
Shut up!
You're shy.
Get on the bed.
Get on that bed.
My God, you're beautiful.
Lay down.
Roll over.
What I could have done with you
in my prime.
- I'm sure you could have, Mr. Cobb-
- Shut up!
Turn around.
I want you to do exactly
what I tell you to do.
Exactly what I say.
$1,ooo.
- Just do what you gotta do.
- Shut up!
You take this $1,OOO
and you tell everybody you meet...
that you fucked the great Ty Cobb.
And I was the greatest fuck
you've ever had in your life.
That's all?
- You want more? I'm a very wealthy man.
- No.
- Is that what you want me to do?
- Yes, will you do it?
Yeah!
You are looking at a very beautiful woman,
you limber son of bitch!
Dead down here.
Damn thing has been like that
for two damn years!
Nothing! Dead!
Get the goddamn hell out of here.
"Georgia Peach," my ass.
Georgia trash is what he is.
Are you all right?
That was the best piece of ass I ever had.
God almighty, what a beautiful girl!
Have we missed the testimonial dinner?
We got to get up and go.
No, it's okay.
Just lie down.
We'll go to the testimonial dinner.
Got to get up and go, Stump.
I wouldn't miss it for the world.
That night I made a decision.
I decided to tell the truth.
I also made another decision.
I was gonna stay with him
and finish the book...
no matter where he took me.
I began working on two manuscripts.
One was his version, My Life in Baseball.
How to steal second base...
or how to hit the breaking ball
to the opposite field.
It contained nothing about his parents.
It contained nothing
about his children and ex-wives...
none of whom would even speak to him.
It contained no insights from his friends
because I couldn't find any.
It was a baseball book.
I kept it in the typewriter...
for him to discover and amend.
It was a book I never planned to publish.
The second book, my book...
was written on
legal pads and hotel stationery...
and cocktail napkins
and anything I could scrape together...
without drawing his attention.
Nothing like a cigarette girl...
and 30 hours of sleep
to invigorate a man, Stumpy.
You look like shit.
What's the matter with you?
I've been writing.
Let's see how we're doing here.
Yes, now you're getting it!
It's none of this Sigmund Freud bullshit,
it's baseball.
You understand.
People are no damn good, Stump.
But you get it.
And I can trust you.
That's the way it goes, Stumpy.
They boo all your career
and when you're dying...
put you on a pedestal.
That's being a legend.
- That for the record?
- Sure as hell is.
I'm gonna buy in here right now,
right there!
Place your bets, folks. New shooter.
Money plays, give me some hot dice...
for the hot hand, we're gonna have
a hot table any minute.
Play's five. Mark it.
Hi there, Magic Hands.
Stumpy, what is that?
Joey, two to pass, two to come,
two on four the hard way.
I'll be a son of a bitch.
Four!
Very nice, thank you very much.
It's a five. It's a three
and a two. Point's five.
My girl go with that nigger?
I'll be goddamned.
They're standing next to each other-
Ramona, you with that nigger?
Money placed on the five. Forget it.
- That man is a monster.
- Yeah, I know.
Wait, is she with you?
This is my man, Mr. Cobb, and he's all man.
My girl with my nigger.
I'll be a goddamned son of a bitch.
You better duck down now,
you son of a bitch!
He's got a gun. Get down.
You goddamn yellow-belly.
Do you know who the hell I am?
I told him the testimonial dinner
at the Hall of fame was approaching...
even though it was still weeks away.
But at least that news got him away
without getting us in jail...
or getting somebody killed.
And as we headed across country...
Cobb, as usual, was oblivious
to the chaos he left in his wake.
And then this fat ass named Babe Ruth
came into the league...
and near destroyed the game of baseball.
We thought he'd eat
and screw his way out of the league...
but he hung on for a few years.
Hung on?
Come on, Ty.
The man was the greatest ballplayer,
next to you, of all time.
I mean, he hit 714 home runs.
Anybody can hit a home run.
Now, excuse me, I got work to do.
Sorry, Ty.
I didn't care that they loved, cheered,
and adored Babe Ruth...
I did care that they
respected his ball playing.
They built Yankee Stadium for him...
with a 297-foot right field line.
My sister, Florence,
could hit the ball 297 feet.
Come on, aren't you gonna give Ruth
credit for anything?
He ran okay for a fat man.
You know something, Alimony,
I think you're the best friend I ever had.
You're kidding!
I swear on the Bible,
I feel I can trust you now.
And he kept talking.
The gospel according to Ty Cobb.
Baseball is a red-blooded sport,
for red-blooded men.
It's no pink tea,
and mollycoddles had better stay out of it.
It's a struggle for supremacy,
a survival of the fittest.
I had to fight all my life to survive.
They were all against me.
But I beat the bastards
and left them in the ditch.
The problem with baseball today is that...
the players are in it for the money
rather than the love and fun of it.
At the age of 22...
I sunk some dough into a little beverage
outfit in Georgia...
dash, turned into Coca-Cola. Period.
At 24, I sunk some dough...
in a couple of automobile companies
in Detroit...
dash, turned into General Motors. Period.
The money piled up like...
base hits...
and it's still piling up.
A ballplayer loses a step
the older he gets...
dash... No, semicolon...
a man of finance gains one.
Period, double space, new paragraph.
Chapter 7 will be called
"Me and Napoleon Lajoie. "
- How you doing, Stump?
- Great, fine.
- Semicolon is very good.
- Good.
During the day we worked on his book...
at night I worked on mine.
I was drinking like a fish,
smoking too much...
and by writing two versions,
I was becoming something Cobb was not:
I was becoming a liar.
Fabulous stuff.
- Stumpy, just brilliant. You're a genius.
- Thank you, sir.
Damn, I love reading about me.
Hey, what the hell is that out there?
I'm trying to work in here,
you noisy son of a bitch!
I'd appreciate a little
goddamn peace and quiet.
Try that on, you noisy sons of bitches!
I'm paying good money to stay here...
and these noisy people
are raising all kinds of hell.
I can't get any work done.
Stumpy, take care of this for me.
- It's okay, no problem.
- It's not okay.
It's okay.
Thought it was a prowler, that's all.
We're leaving. Nobody's hurt.
Everything's fine.
Soon, I knew more about his drugs
than he did.
Whatever bizarre cocktails of morphine,
or lithium, or insulin...
I helped inject into his bloodstream
full of bourbon...
somehow they always revived him.
Somewhere along the way,
I'd gone from biographer to stenographer...
to chauffeur to nurse.
I was the only thing
keeping the bastard alive...
and I kept hoping he'd die.
You know something, Stumpy?
With a friend like you,
I could go on forever.
You're gonna see some great athletes...
great men, great warriors
at this Hall of Fame dinner, Stumpy.
You ain't gonna see no modern,
pansy-ass bullshit.
No, I've been looking forward to this
for a long time.
You fucking liar.
You've been hoping I'd die first.
- You've got me all wrong.
- I got you right.
But it's all right...
'cause I need your help.
See who that is.
- May I help you?
- Cobb here?
- May I ask why?
- I'm Mickey Cochrane.
Come on in.
Ty, it's Mickey Cochrane.
Where's your goddamn tuxedo?
- I don't have one.
- I sent you money for it.
- It didn't arrive.
- Bullshit, you drank it up.
Can't have you going to the Hall of Fame
looking like that.
Things have been rough, Ty.
Don't complain and don't explain.
Here, please go buy yourself a tuxedo.
Stores are closed.
How could you be so good behind the plate
and so bad everywhere else?
You broke-dick old bastard.
Do I have to do everything
in this goddamn league?
Hello, operator.
Who's got the best men's store
in Cooperstown, New York?
I tell you what. Get him on the telephone
for me at his house.
Hello, Jack, this is Ty Cobb. Yes, sir.
I'll tell you what you can do.
You go down to your store...
open it up, you sell a tuxedo
to the great Mickey Cochrane.
And while you're at it,
get him a cummerbund, new shirt, bow tie...
set of studs, and a set of cufflinks...
and a bottle of cologne
'cause the son of a bitch stinks.
I don't know. He might have had one.
It's a joke.
What's that?
Sure do thank you.
Mickey, you gotta put forth a better effort.
- Here.
- Thanks, Ty.
It was a great pleasure meeting you.
He's lost, Stump. Fastball to the head.
That poor man is lost.
You support him?
And I have for years.
It's not gonna go in your book though.
- But why not?
- Because it would embarrass him.
I don't wanna take that cane tonight.
You've got to have your cane.
I don't have to have anything.
You'll help me out.
In case I wobble, something like that,
you put a hand here...
you keep me upright, I'm gonna be all right.
I'll be there.
How do I look?
Like the greatest ballplayer of all time.
The great left-handed pitcher
from the New York Giants...
who struck out five men in a row
in the 1934 All-Star game:
Carl Hubbell, ladies and gentlemen.
Welcome "The Meal Ticket. "
The great third baseman
from the National League:
Harold Joseph "Pie" Traynor.
Mr. Double X...
the great star of
the Philadelphia Athletics:
Mr. Jimmie Foxx.
Paul and Lloyd Waner.
And, ladies and gentlemen...
the highest lifetime batting average
of all time...
first man elected to the Hall of fame...
retired with over 90 batting records...
the one and only Georgia Peach, Ty Cobb.
Mr. Cobb?
- Stump.
- I got you.
- Mr. Cobb, good to see you again.
- How do you do?
One more shot, Mr. Cobb.
Good to see you, Lloyd.
Sam Crawford, Cobb, long time no see.
Sam, it's good to see you.
You doing all right?
I'm still alive.
We're gonna have a hell of a party
this evening.
Big parties, Peach.
How you doing? You're looking good.
Rogers, I look like hell, you know it.
Stumpy, I want you to meet
Rogers Hornsby...
next to me, the greatest hitter of all time.
- How do you do?
- Next to me.
We'll tear them up good.
Nice to see you again.
Let's get this son of a bitch on the road.
- Nice to see you again, Ty.
- Good to see you.
Welcome to Cooperstown,
ladies and gentlemen.
We are here to acknowledge
the greatest ballplayers of all time.
But the greatest of all is with us tonight.
Simply put, the best ballplayer ever:
Tyrus Raymond Cobb.
We've gathered from the archives
some special film on Mr. Cobb.
Lights, please.
This 1916 portrait shows us Ty Cobb...
in his Detroit Tigers uniform.
The Georgia Peach.
Note the smug expression
and the haunting set of eyes.
These disturbing eyes can be
seen in the earliest photo
ever taken of young Ty.
Turn the clock back
to the beginning of the century.
At that time, professional baseball
was a casual game.
Ballplayers were often clowns...
but young Ty Cobb would have none of that.
He turned the game into war...
and in the process,
invented the modern game as we know it.
The aggressive, attacking game
was virtually Cobb's invention.
Here, we see him running over
a first sacker on a drag bunt...
a play he perfected.
That's him. He'd take on the whole team.
Jimmie, that's the way we used to play ball.
You don't find these children
playing ball like that today.
Here, we see Cobb
with one of his five children.
That's Shirley. You remember Shirley?
She's a big girl now.
I love that house, Stump.
Stump, we gotta go see that house.
And here, he shows his son
his curious hands-apart grip.
Though he was unable
to teach his flaming, competitive heart.
Here, the pitcher makes the mistake...
- Stumpy, what in the hell is that?
- Why? It's a great film.
Look, there he goes, watch this!
It's great!
...and 54 times in his whole career.
No base runner has ever approached
these records.
- Stealing home there.
- Yeah, I saw that-
The first celebrity athlete
in American history.
Movie stars and presidents...
- What the hell is that?
- There you are with your buddy, Babe.
Here, Cobb poses with his great archrival,
the legendary Babe Ruth.
You and the Babe.
However, Cobb's public posturing
as a family man...
was just that, posturing.
Here, he discovers that his wife has hidden
some of his precious liquor...
and she pays the price.
The allegations of wife-beating were legion.
Her attempts to divorce Cobb were met
with more beatings...
until, after years of brutal marriage...
she was granted divorce
due to extreme mental cruelty.
With Cobb's vast fortunes and influence...
he was able to keep this private part
of his brutal nature completely quiet...
building, instead, a heroic public image
as a fierce warrior.
Get your ass on up here,
you half-assed nigger!
Get up here! Come on!
In a famous incident in 1912,
Cobb attacked a heckler...
who turned out to have no hands.
He was briefly suspended for the incident.
In a shocking development in 1926...
Cobb and Tris Speaker
were accused of fixing games...
by pitcher Dutch Leonard.
Is that the fix?
Credence to these charges was given
by Cobb's notorious friendship...
with numerous unsavory gamblers.
And even though Judge Landis
curiously acquitted Cobb...
questions still remained about his guilt.
Cobb later told friends
that he had enough damaging information...
on other players involved in fixes...
that Landis acquitted Cobb
in order to keep him quiet.
Cobb and his friends were well known
for booze and sex parties...
they had in the off-season.
Parties called "smokers"...
which took place
in various hunting cabins...
they filled with hookers...
many of whom
were his guests at the ballpark.
And in one
of the most disturbing incidents...
Cobb chased a man he said
had accosted him...
and pistol-whipped him to death,
leaving him to die in an alley.
Though Cobb bragged about this
among friends...
the incident was hushed up and forgotten.
Stumpy, he tried to rob me.
He tried to take the money out of my pocket.
What? It's just you
in your Philadelphia uniform.
Playing for Mr. Mack now.
Near the end of his career,
Cobb joined the Philadelphia Athletics...
and at the age of 41...
What do you see now?
You in your Philadelphia uniform.
You look good.
"If a man can't hit better than that,
he ought to quit. "
Whether hitting a home run,
as shown here...
See, he can hit home runs
with the best of them.
...to all fields or running the bases...
I hit them home runs if I had to.
Ty Cobb dominated the game
as no man ever had.
Yes, ladies and gentlemen,
what a ballplayer!
Let's all stand up for the Peach.
You're the best.
- You sure you're up for this?
-203, I used to hunt and fish...
with Rogers Hornsby all over north Georgia,
lower Alabama, everywhere he'd think of.
I appreciate loyalty in a friend.
- You sure you're up for this?
- I've never been readier in my life!
- Rogers!
- You ain't coming in here.
- It's me and Stump!
- You bastard, you ain't coming in.
- Who's in there?
- Me, Mickey, some broads.
Let me talk to Mickey. Let me see Mickey.
How are you doing, Mick?
You look good in that tuxedo.
I can't let you in. This is Rogers' party.
I'm just an invited guest.
God damn it, let me in! Wait a minute!
Open the goddamn door!
Let me in. Open up the goddamn door!
- It's okay, let's just
go back to the motel.
- To hell with you!
I invented the goddamn game of baseball!
Open the door!
You sons of bitches!
You sons of bitches!
I fought for players' rights...
when you motherfuckers were crawling
on your hands and knees...
begging the master for a job!
Begging master for breadcrumbs
and you can't hear me now!
- Let's go home.
- Let me in there!
A ballplayer can make big money...
but you motherfuckers are too stupid!
You're all too stupid!
Open the goddamn door!
- You're okay?
- Take me back to the Hall!
- You sure?
- You know where the Hall is?
Sure.
This way.
- I appreciate your coming.
- For Mr. Cobb, no problem.
Stumpy, what did you see
on that film there tonight?
- I saw Ty Cobb playing baseball.
- Is that all?
Is that all?
You were the best.
Save the romance for the book.
Carry me home to Georgia.
The book, like Cobb, was almost Finished.
But he was dying slower than I was writing.
And like everything else, he viewed it
as a competition he was not going to lose.
To me, we weren't riding to Georgia
in a limo...
we were riding in a hearse.
"One of my first clear-cut memories
is of a buggy...
"bumping along a red clay road between
Commerce and Carnesville, Georgia...
"with my legs dangling over the tailgate.
"I was busy winding yarn
around a small core ball.
"It was slow work.
"And the new kid in town
who owned a hittable ball...
"could overcome social obstacles faster
than the boy who didn't. "
- That's damn good.
- I put that in there.
Long time ago, Stumpy.
- Anything you want me to change?
- No, I wouldn't change a word.
It's the greatest biography
ever written, Stump.
The greatest.
James, pull over here to the right.
Look here, Stump.
Right up there, James.
We're here. The fucking sign needs paint.
My little girl lives right
down this way here.
James, go right down this street.
Sure this was the street?
Down there about a block, James.
The houses all look alike.
- When was the last time you saw her?
- About 15 years ago. She understands me.
Right there. There it is, right there.
No, wait. Damn it!
Maybe she moved.
No, she didn't move.
It's that one right there, James.
Right there, number 150,
over here on the right.
There's somebody in the window.
Is that her?
Maybe she didn't recognize you.
Just wait here.
You can go.
- Well?
- No, it wasn't her. It's...
Your daughter moved.
She used to live there-
You cocksucking liar.
My daughter don't want to see me...
and you're lying about it.
Of course I'm lying about it.
That's what I'm paid to do, isn't it?
Lie about the great Ty Cobb?
You didn't like the job,
why didn't you quit?
Who else is going to take care of you?
Don't give me the sob-sister routine. Jesus!
I listen to your bullshit,
I interpret, I find words...
I give shape, I give life to your bullshit,
and you give me nothing!
Nothing...
but grief!
You have never been this close to greatness
in your short life.
And you love it.
Stop the car.
Stop the car! Now!
Stop the car, James.
Stumpy, you are acting
like a 6-year-old child.
I'll be a striped-ass ape.
Where are you going?
Wait here, James.
- Get back in the car.
- Just go on without me.
- Get back in the damn car-
- Go on without me, I don't need you.
I'd run you down if I was
10, 15, 20 years younger.
- Come here.
- I wish you'd die.
I will, Stumpy.
- And go to hell.
- I'll do that, too.
Look how convenient you've made it.
Of course it was your daughter.
She doesn't want anything to do with you.
- I forgive her.
- You forgive her? That's rich!
We all ought to forgive more.
You ought to try it. You're too damn angry.
Is it the divorce?
You gotta let all that go, Stump.
I love her, I don't want a divorce!
Of course you do. You're so used
to accommodating other people...
you don't know
what the hell you want anymore.
I don't accommodate anybody.
No, you sure don't.
And you have no friends.
Do you? Who the hell are they,
those drunken hacks you hang out with?
They think they'll write
the great American novel...
but all they're really gonna do
is piss and moan...
and write lousy leads
about high school football games.
What about that little brunette
in the courtyard?
Is she your friend?
I understand she fucks everybody.
She must be everybody's goddamn friend.
You're something.
I'm glad we're here.
I was gonna bring you here anyway.
And which great Cobb of Georgia
would that be?
Me. Come on, I'll show you something.
When I die, my mother and father
will be brought here...
and in time...
my dear sister, Florence,
will join us as well.
The family will be together again.
- Under one roof?
- Yeah.
That's romantic. You want that in the book?
I mean, that Ty Cobb
brings the family together...
to enter the gates of heaven whole!
They're all gonna be here.
Yourself, your sister...
your grandfather who was killed
at the fields of Fredericksburg...
your father, the great man...
then your mother,
who happened to kill your father.
- Then you've got your kids-
- My mother didn't kill my father.
- What are you talking about?
- My father told my mother...
he was leaving town for the weekend.
But he came back to the edge of the woods,
where he tied up his horse...
because my father thought
my mother was being unfaithful to him.
He was going to catch my mother
with another man.
She had been married 22 years
by the time she was 34...
and that's how old she was
the night he came back.
And I stood by my mother when
she was tried for murder a few months later.
I said she was noble and true...
and loved my father completely.
The whole thing was an accident...
and she was acquitted,
as she should have been...
because my mother did not kill my father.
My mother's lover...
killed my father.
The last thing my father saw
was the face of the man fucking his wife.
Is that what you wanted to know?
The only other people
who know about it are dead.
You ain't going to put that in the book,
because you're the only friend I have left.
You're the only man I can trust.
I don't want to be your friend.
I don't feel sorry for you.
Your mother's lover
blew your father's head off, I don't care.
You were a prick before it happened,
a prick after it happened...
you've been a prick ever since.
- And you are a prick now.
- Public relations are overrated, Stumpy.
What are you talking about?
- You need a drink. Come on in here.
- Fuck your drink.
You're too damn angry.
You need to let all that go.
I'm going to tell the world
the truth about you, Cobb.
I'm going to tell them that you hate women,
hate Jews, hate niggers.
Shouldn't use the word "nigger. "
It's racist and demeaning.
I don't hate women. I'm not good with them.
That puts me in the same boat
with you and every other man I know.
You treat people like dirt.
The children of America need heroes.
You know that.
Here.
Come on.
Attaboy.
All right, there we go.
You sit right there for just one minute.
You're an educated man, Stumpy.
Tell me what you think.
Either my father
was inadequate for my mother...
not the man I thought he was,
not a great man, not even a good man...
or else my mother was trash...
a common whore.
It's that simple, isn't it?
As a boy,
I stood in court next to that woman...
because suddenly
I was the man of the house.
And as I stood steadfastly at her side
and heard the jury say "not guilty"...
I knew that woman had been
with another man the night of that killing.
A man must defend his mother at all times.
Isn't that right, Al?
- Am I a fool?
- No.
A man must defend his mother at all times.
That's what I thought.
- Al Stump?
- In here.
- Are you Ty Cobb?
- You're goddamn right.
Well, goddamn!
Mr. Al Stump?
Goddamn right.
Man, I've been chasing you
all over the country.
I'm here to serve you papers.
- What kind of papers?
- It's the divorce, Stumpy.
- I know this routine.
- You're being sued for divorce, sir.
Hold it. My wife and I are still talking.
Yeah, and what she's saying is, "Fuck you. "
Fuck me. Fuck her.
Fuck him.
Wait a minute here, Stumpy.
- Look out now.
- No sudden moves.
You ain't serving me no papers.
I'm just doing a job.
That's not a toy, Al.
I love my wife.
We all loved our wives.
That's not the point, Stumpy.
Sure, you'll find somebody else.
There's a million women out there.
Now give me that gun.
I am not going to accommodate this man!
You're all mixed up, Al.
You'd better let me have that.
No, you are right. I've been accommodating
people my whole life and it stops here.
You've killed a man. I'll kill a man.
I'm begging you.
I got a little baby girl at home,
please don't shoot me.
Don't give me that sob-sister stuff.
Al, you'd better let me have that pistol.
No.
Life's too short to be diplomatic.
A man's friends don't care
what he says or does.
You're my friend, Ty.
- You're my friend.
- Al, no.
- You're my friend, Ty.
- Al, no.
Shit. You want a divorce?
Here's your goddamn divorce.
He's crazy.
No wonder she's divorcing him.
He's crazy!
You're served, pal.
- I almost killed a man.
- A little drunken excess.
It's already forgotten.
I saw nothing.
Nothing happened.
Like hell it didn't.
Al, listen to me.
If I were to write a biography
of the greatest sportswriter of our time...
I speak now, of course,
of the great Al Stump...
would I include
what happened here tonight?
Attorneys are pigs.
Divorce attorneys are lower than pigs.
What happened tonight was private.
An intimacy.
Your business. Our business.
Nobody else's.
It does not belong
in a book about greatness.
Nobody's going to write my biography.
And when that little brunette
in that courtyard brushed against you...
I know what happened:
the warm summer breeze...
the smell of jasmine,
black hair against a white blouse.
You came to life again.
Your dick got hard.
You saw that girl naked the first time,
it was more than you could bear.
That's all right, Al.
That brunette ain't going
in the book, either.
And now the booze.
Say Ty Cobb had a drinking problem.
You can booze me under the table,
right now, no problem...
ain't nobody's goddamn business, either.
- Okay. I get it-
- Ain't going in our book about greatness.
Then lay down there and go to sleep.
You look pathetic.
Come on. Here. Lay down there.
All right, here we go.
- Well, she's not everybody's friend.
- Yes, sir.
You're my friend, Ty.
You're my friend.
You don't have a point of view, Stumpy.
You're not worth killing.
No.
This can't be.
Absolutely not.
Stumpy!
Our Father who art in heaven,
hallowed be thy name.
Thy kingdom come,
thy will be done on earth
as it is in heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread.
And forgive our trespasses
as we forgive those who trespass...
Fuck it.
This is what it feels like.
This is what it looks like.
This is what it is.
Will you get the Emory Hospital
for me, please?
Peach?
Fuck. Where'd he fall?
y
Dear Alimony, you lying son of a bitch,
I'm checking myself into the hospital.
I think the end is near. Your pal, Ty.
Excuse me, I'm here to see...
You call this a hospital?
Do you know who I am?
- Him.
- Be careful. He's got a gun.
Yeah, I know. Thanks.
Please stay back.
Sir, please. He doesn't want any visitors.
Sir!
Hell, Stumpy, come on in here!
You won't believe the shit
they call food here. You get any sleep?
I had a hell of a read
last night, young man.
Sir, I need to take some more blood.
Bring a bucket here.
I'll cough up a few pints.
I have to do it this way.
- You won't hurt me, will you?
- No, sir.
Jameson, I understand Fisher Body
went to $7.25. Buy me 1,OOO shares.
- You keep your eyes on the Studebaker.
- Yes, sir.
There's a nice piece of ass here.
You come back later
and climb up on the big fella?
That's against regulations, sir.
You read the book.
God damn it, I thought I could trust you.
I used to read people better than that.
The book is the truth.
Truth is a whore, just like you are,
and just like my mother was.
A Mr. Barton is here to see you.
He says he's the chairman
of the board of Coca Cola.
Tell him to have a Pepsi. I don't have time.
- I need to take your blood pressure.
- It's high. What else do you want to know?
I have to do it.
Go right ahead.
Mr. Cobb, we cannot allow you
to have a gun in here.
Step over here and take it away from me.
Come on.
What do we think of Standard Oil?
Oh, we like Standard Oil, sir.
Keep your eyes on it. I want 500 shares
in that Cincinnati Milling, too.
My first son was a doctor.
A hacksaw artist,
about like this one right here.
He died of a brain tumor at 40.
Hadn't spoken to me in 15 years.
Why? 'Cause I'm a shitty parent.
Why don't you put that in your book?
Bad, ain't it?
I guess I died a lot faster
than you could write.
I don't know which version
I'm going to publish. I really don't.
Damn it. There you go again.
Accommodating me when you don't have to.
Turn around, you son of a bitch!
Get out of my goddamn hospital room!
Right now!
That's it. Out. Come on.
You fooled me, Stumpy.
I didn't think anybody could fool me,
but you got it done.
I thought we were pals.
I didn't know what I was getting into.
Shit. Will you stop explaining yourself?
Stand by your damn convictions.
You beat the great Ty Cobb.
I respect that.
But if you're gonna print it, print it all.
My second son weighed 300 pounds.
Died in the arms of a whore
in Paso Robles, California.
My other son, I lost all track of him.
My two ex-wives won't speak to me.
You know my daughter won't speak to me.
And Ty Cobb can't get it up anymore.
Print it all!
Is there anything you'd like today?
I want everything back that I took
from Bethlehem Steel and I want it all now.
Right away, sir.
It's very confusing.
It's not confusing. It's simple. You won.
You go ahead
and tell the whole wide world...
that the greatest ballplayer who ever lived
was also the greatest bastard.
Who fucking cares?
I give you my permission and my blessing!
From here on out it's your story!
I almost forgot.
I slipped them the old Oska-Fagus.
Where's my money at?
Your money's right here, Peach.
Next to your gun.
The desire for glory is not a sin.
Will you try to remember that?
Get out of here.
What about the gun? Did you get it?
No, I didn't get the gun.
Come on-
I gave a few bucks to a local kid
to repaint the sign...
disappeared for a while
to finish the manuscripts...
and to wait for Cobb to die.
And while I waited,
Ernest Hemingway blew his brains out...
Getty bought Honolulu Oil...
Coke came out in cans...
and the brunette in the courtyard
ran away with a young lawyer.
And on July 17, 1961...
Ty Cobb died quietly in his sleep.
I don't believe it was quiet,
nothing he ever did was quiet...
but that's what the newspaper writer said...
and we all know writers never lie.
To hell and back, can you believe that?
Audie Murphy! You aren't going to compare
Audie Murphy...
How are you doing?
Good to see you.
- How you doing?
- I'm doing fine.
I've got to confess, I missed you guys.
Tell me, how's the novel coming?
Should be about finished, right?
Actually, I haven't started it yet.
I've been kind of busy.
So tell us. We want to know.
What was Cobb like?
The stories, are they true?
Are they exaggerated?
Was he a monster or a good guy?
Tell us about Cobb.
What kind of a guy was he?
The truth?
What was Cobb like?
You want the truth?
Come on! Tell us.
Don't hold out.
The truth is...
a prince and a great man has fallen.
- Absolutely!
- All right!
Tyrus Raymond Cobb!
To Ty Cobb!
A misunderstood genius,
as genius always is.
Tell you a great story.
Guy comes up to him and says:
"Mr. Cobb, what would you hit
against today's pitchers?"
Cobb looks at him and says, ".290."
".290? Your lifetime batting
average is .367, you hit over... "
I published the lie
and put the truth in a closet.
Cobb looks him straight in the eye
and goes:
"Because I'm 72 fucking years old,
that's why. "
Cobb left most of his money to his family,
whom he had largely destroyed.
The remainder was used
for an education trust fund...
for poor Georgia children,
and to build a hospital in his hometown.
In death, at last,
he was reunited with his parents.
The man had some deep,
unexpressed sorrow I could never know.
I embraced him, and I hated him.
finally I didn't lie...
so the American children,
would have heroes or some such hogwash.
finally, I lied for myself.
I needed him to be a hero.
It is my weakness.
A ball bat is a wondrous weapon.
But you should never grip it at the end
if you want balance and control.
Learn the Fundamentals.
The game is a science.
Batting is a mental activity,
a study in psychology...
an observation of little details.
Every great batter works on the theory...
that the pitcher is more afraid of him
than he is of the pitcher.
The batter owns the plate,
the pitcher must come to you.
If John McGraw were a young man,
I would have killed him.
I regret I didn't go to college.
I feel I should have been a doctor.
Baseball was 100% of my life.