You derelicts know what time it is?
What?
It is bug-betting time! All right?!
First bug to get fried wins $2.
I got the green one.
$2 on the June bug.
You must actually let go of the
money in order for it to be a bet.
Round and round she goes,
where she stops... Number 2!
Any of you shitheads ever get bored?
You ever get bored?
'Cause I got a riddle.
Takes about 2 ounces of
brains to figure it out.
Anybody think they got a
brain with 2 ounces of brain?
There's a rumor Earl does.
For chrissakes, boys, come on, a little
self-confidence from the gallery.
This ain't long division.
- How much we got to lose?
- Want to liven things up?
That's a hell of an idea!
Everyone puts in 20 bucks.
Pot goes to whoever solves the riddle.
You'll get the riddle.
I'm the one asking the riddle.
I already know the answer.
I don't get a guess.
Although we could say if I get
to 500 bounces on the wedge...
...and no one gets the
riddle, I get the pot.
Now, I know you're thinking
it's an impossible riddle.
It's not. It's easy.
And if somehow, by the
grace of fluke luck...
...I win and y'all don't agree that
it was an easy riddle, then...
...I'll refund your money.
I'm in!
Money in the bank.
I'll hold it.
Give it.
A man's driving down
the road with his son.
He gets in a crash.
Two ambulances come...
...and they take the man and
his son to different hospitals.
Different hospitals.
Son goes into the operating
room, all right?
Doctor looks at him, says:
"I can't operate on this boy.
He's my son."
Now, how is that possible?
How is that possible?
Clock's ticking.
Father's at the other hospital?
He didn't sneak over?
No one beamed him aboard.
All right, what if the father
married the son's daughter?
This is a family riddle.
Think clean thoughts.
Give us a hint.
You want a hint?
The doctor's a woman.
The doctor's a woman.
The doctor's the son's mother.
Feminists pose the riddle to
reveal sexual stereotypes.
I take it you're a feminist.
I've been called many things,
but never been saddled with that.
You might try being saddled.
Smell of leather, a whip's sting.
I'm just a humble golf pro.
Could I help you?
You're Roy McAvoy?
I pictured something different.
I have a 7:00 lesson.
I thought I had a Dr. Griswold.
That's me.
First thing you must learn is
this game ain't about hitting...
...a ball in a hole.
It's about inner demons,
self-doubt, human frailty...
...and overcoming that crap.
What kind of doctor
did you say you were?
Psychologist.
I'm a neo-Jungian, post-modern
Freudian, holistic secularist.
Okay.
Inner demons and human
frailty is my life's work.
I used to practice in El Paso,
but I moved here now.
What is all this stuff?
I got it from the Golf Channel.
Well, it's a waste of money.
I'm sure there are some
excesses and repetitions here,
but I believe in gathering knowledge.
There must be some truth to the
golf swing illustrated here...
I thought you would kind of
help me sort through it.
I have dozens of golf videotapes.
I bet she has a golf watch.
Got a golf watch?
I think I got a good one.
Right there.
Take it off.
Off?
All of it, right now. All of it.
You're a smart woman, for chrissakes.
Don't you know the work of
hustlers when you see it?
Well, no.
I mean...
...I can always tell when
someone's lying to himself.
But I'm susceptible and frequently
wrong when a person lies to me.
This stuff cost me over $200.
It's $200 of shit.
Well, that's just great.
Let's do this the old-fashioned way.
Just swing.
All right.
Come up.
Excuse me.
Fuck.
You talk like a golfer.
That's a pretty girl to
have such an ugly swing.
Oh, God!
Oh, that hurt.
Shit!
"Fuck." "Shit."
These are technical golf terms.
You're using them on your first lesson.
This is promising.
Great.
Wise-ass. Show me. Just go ahead.
Something like that.
That's impressive.
I tend to process things verbally...
...so can you break down
into words how you did that?
"What Is The Golf Swing,"
by Roy McAvoy?
I think of the golf swing as a poem.
He's doing that poetry thing again.
The opening phrase of this
poem will always be the grip.
The hands unite to form a single
unit by the simple overlap of the...
...little finger.
Right.
Lowly and slowly...
...the club head is led back, pulled
into position not by the hands,
...but the body, which turns
away from the target,
...shifting weight to the right side
without shifting balance.
Tempo is all, perfection unattainable,
as at the top of the swing...
...there's a hesitation,
a little nod to the gods.
A nod to the gods?
To the gods that he is fallible.
That perfection is unattainable.
Weight shifts to the left pulled
by the powers in the earth...
...it's alive, this swing,
and a sculpture...
...and down through contact...
...striking the ball crisply...
...with character.
A tuning fork goes off in
your heart, your balls...
...such a pure feeling is
the well-struck golf shot.
Then the follow-through to finish...
...always on line.
The reverse-C of the Golden Bear...
...the steelworkers' power and
the brawn of Carl Sandburg's...
...Arnold Palmer!
He's doing the
"Arnold Palmer" thing.
And the unfinished symphony of...
...Roy McAvoy.
What's unfinished?
I have a short follow-through.
It has an unfinished look.
Why?
Some say it's the easiest way to
play in the winds of west Texas...
...some say it's because I never
finished anything in my life.
You can decide. But the point is...
...every finishing position is unique.
That's what the golf swing's about.
It's about gaining control
of your life and...
...letting go at the same time.
Jeez Louise.
There's only one other acceptable
theory about how to hit the ball.
Oh, boy, well, I'm afraid to ask.
What's the other theory?
Grip it and rip it.
Well, you know...
...while I do appreciate your
poetic sensibility, Mr. McAvoy...
Call me Roy, Molly.
Call me Dr. Griswold, Roy. I think I'm
more of the grip it and rip it school.
Then let's tee it up.
All right, waggle.
Waggle.
No, look.
He's got her waggling now.
Waggle the...
...club head, okay?
It's a relaxing ritual we do.
Just waggle it.
Waggle it and let the big dog eat.
What big dog?
The driver, the #1-wood.
- This is metal.
- All woods are.
The driver's known as the big dog.
I'm just saying let him
loose, let it rip...
...let the big dog eat.
You know, this is without a doubt
the stupidest, silliest...
...most idiotic, grotesquely
masquerading game ever invented.
Yes, that's why I love it.
If you hit one good shot...
...and that tuning fork
rings in your loins...
...and you can't wait...
...to get back.
Try it again.
The big dog just ate something.
Did that tuning fork ring in your loins?
Well, I wouldn't go that far.
I always say quit on a good shot.
We'll call that lesson #1?
Okay.
And...
...if you wouldn't mind...
...paying me in cash?
There's a little situation
I'm dealing with the IRS.
I got to bob and weave around the
facts of life, if you know what I mean.
Can I ask you a question?
If you're such a legendary
golfer, as everyone says...
...then why are you, at your age,
out here in the sticks...
...operating a barely-solvent
business, ducking the IRS...
...collecting a few dollars for beer
when you're capable of much more?
Perhaps I'm chock-full of inner demons.
No.
You're chock-full of bullshit.
Anyway...
...same time next week?
What'd you mean I should
try being saddled sometime?
Were you being literal or
was that some Freudian deal?
Molly?
Doctor?
What kind of saddle?
David Simms. What the
hell are you doing here?
Hey, there, Romeo.
Been a while.
Tin Cup around?
No, he's in Houston on business.
You know.
I thought you were supposed to
be out on the pro golf tour.
You tell Tin Cup that I'm in town for
my big charity Best Ball Tournament.
I got a spot for him.
If he ever gets back from...
Houston.
Yeah, wherever.
I thought you hated him.
Hell, I haven't even thought
about him in a dozen years.
Not since the good old days at
the University of Houston...
...where we won all
them titles together.
God almighty.
He says he carried you on
his back all them years.
I didn't have much craft
back then, just a little...
...native ability.
Now, old Roy...
...he's a hell of a ball-striker.
What do you want?
- I want to win my own tournament.
- I bet you do.
He can help me if we can behave
like grown-ups together.
You never know.
You tell him that.
I'll be sure to tell him.
What's the catch?
Hello, Cup.
There is no catch.
I put together a tournament...
...with an elite field of players...
...and a half-million dollar purse.
And, by God, I'm tired of seeing
the money head out of town.
Make more birdies.
That's where you come in.
I need you on my team.
Well, I repeat: What's the catch?
We're playing Cottonwood,
where you once shot a 59.
Where you can still
shoot a 65 in your sleep.
You know every bump on the fairway
and every subtle break on every green.
Hot tub, Roy?
It's a spa.
You and me at Cottonwood?
Kind of like old times.
Yeah.
Well, put her there, partner!
These two homeboys will show the
world what golf in Texas is about!
I'll be a birdie-making machine!
Whoa, whoa, wait a minute there, Roy.
I didn't mean I wanted you to play
with me. I want you to caddy.
You know, read the greens,
club me, that kind of stuff.
Caddy?
Come on, Roy.
I can't bring a guy in off the
street to play in my tournament.
For chrissakes, guys, this
has become a big-time event.
Hell, I got corporate sponsors
and 30 bucks a ticket.
This guy off the street can
kick your ass at golf anytime.
Like he did in Junior Golf.
Like he did in... No, fuck it.
I'll give you $100.
And 5% of any earnings.
Get out of here!
Take your pinche color coordinated
sponsored chingada and...
...and take a flying fuck on the...
No, I got it.
I was just offering work.
Thank you very much.
I'll take the job.
Yeah, we'll take the job.
It might be more than
you got in your bag.
I could make that.
Shit.
Is he on?
He's on.
Pretty good shape too.
Tin Cup can do it. I seen
him do it lots of times.
You have extra-large huevos.
Son-of-a-bitch.
I told you.
I had to. Your caddy said he'd
get on the green from here.
I could.
I got to hand it to you, Roy.
For 15 holes, you seemed
to grasp the concept here.
I'm trying to win this tournament
and your job is to help me.
I'm going to lay up.
You can make that shot. Hell, I can.
Easy.
I know I can make this damn shot,
but the smart play is to lay up.
These people didn't pay 30 bucks to see
a tour star lay up on a short par 5.
I'm sitting on a 2-shot
lead with 3 to go.
Thanks to you, my
partner's in his pocket.
Suddenly, par's a hell
of a number to me.
you're still a pussy.
Goddamn it, David, just hit
the fucking 3! Hit it!
You still think this game is
about your testosterone count.
Back up.
...lay it up.
Simms, from the rough.
That's a smart play.
You in a hurry, or what?
Why?
I bet Mickelson and McCord your
caddy can knock it on from here.
Come on, guys, we're trying
to win a tournament here.
We are. But I got 5-1.
I think they're good odds.
He can do it.
Let him hit it, it's only an exhibition.
Come on.
You can do it. I got a ball.
Right here.
Come on.
Balls versus brains.
You hit that shot, keep walking.
'Cause your ass is fired.
How'll you do that in front of everyone?
Especially when I knock it on the green.
It looks like the caddy
wants to hit the shot.
What's going on down there?
Boys...
...things have officially changed here.
Forget the 2-shot lead.
Forget the 3 holes to go.
You need a glove.
It'll help.
Some side action.
And the $250,000 purse has
just gotten a little bigger.
You don't think this guy
can pull this shot off?
I'll tell you, I don't
think there's any chance.
This impending disaster's
a driving range pro.
His name is Roy McAvoy
and he's called Tin Cup.
I'm told he was a pretty good college
player, then went on mini-tours.
He'll have to have been a great
college player to pull this off.
He's got 240 yards, he's a
got a television audience.
And he hasn't hit a golf ball yet.
We don't see this everyday.
National television, no warm-up.
I don't know who this guy is.
If he gets it out of there, I'd be
surprised. A pro I'd give 10-1.
Dollar bills.
He's not that good!
Do you believe this?
What a caddy!
- Great shot.
- Thanks for the glove.
You.
Yeah, you, come here. Come here.
Can you carry that?
Pick it up.
Nice shot.
Come here a second.
Take a hike. The loop's over.
What?
You can't fire me.
How can you?
Hey, I just knocked it stiff from 250.
He's always been a jerk.
What about my money?
You hit the shot that took
you out of the money.
Welcome to life on the tour.
The Sports Machine brings
you a bizarre incident...
...at the charity golf event
with tour star David Simms.
Let's go to west Texas...
...where driving range
pro "Tin Cup" McAvoy...
...serving as a caddy to
David Simms at the celebrity event...
...grabbed the 3-wood
out of his own bag...
...and drilled a 240-yard shot
over water to the 16th green...
If I had to do it over...
...I'd still hit that shot.
I know.
You'd bury yourself alive to
prove you could handle a shovel.
You know why?
It's the only way you
could beat Dave Simms.
No.
'Cause you get that look on your face.
Because that shot was a defining moment.
When a defining moment comes along,
you define the moment...
...or the moment defines you.
I did not shrink from the
challenge, I rose to it.
Fresno, California, ring a bell?
The final tour-qualifying round?
I was playing to win.
Tried to hit the same impossible
cut 3-wood into the wind.
- I was playing to win.
- 5 in a row, out of bounds.
You finally pulled it off...
...and tapped it in for a
crowd-pleasing 13.
A 12 would have got you on the tour.
Now that...
...was a defining moment.
And the definition was "shit."
Greatness courts failure, Romeo.
You may be right, but you know what?
Sometimes power is good enough to win.
We owe her $12,000.
No, I owe her $12,000.
Fine, you owe her $12,000.
Like it makes a difference.
It does.
I only got one rule:
Never bet money you don't
have on a dog race...
...with an ex-girlfriend who is also
a stripper. You broke that rule.
You need tell her something
nice to start off with.
An ice-breaker. That's not hard.
I'll say something. If it don't
come out right, you say it better.
Doreen's looking for you.
I'll bet.
Tin Cup.
Haven't seen you in 3 days.
Been busy.
Hi, sweetie.
Hi, honey.
That better be you, Roy.
Just be nice.
Doreen...
...you're looking
particularly lovely tonight.
It's nicer than the leopard suit.
Cut the shit.
You owe me $12,000.
We're going to pay it, don't worry.
I know you'll pay me.
- There.
- What is this?
With equity and inventory it's worth...
...12 grand, more or less.
This is how you think you'll settle up?
By giving me the driving range?
Only on condition you don't sell
right away, and we keep our jobs.
What in the world would I want
with your stupid driving range?
Equity.
Inventory.
Cash flow.
Plus an enhanced stature
in the community...
...and a pre-paid membership
in Salome Chamber of Commerce.
What are your labor costs?
Everybody gets what they get.
The tractor kid gets four.
The tractor kid gets 5 bucks an hour.
Give me, like, 6.
And Romeo gets 10. Cash.
What do you get?
Me?
To stand around and hit golf balls...
...when you're not breaking for
beers or to gather the guys up...
...to bet on which
crow'll fly off first.
You mean my managerial salary?
I'm referring to every nickel you take
from the till, every bag of nuts.
That is what I'm referring to.
He'll take the deal.
What is the deal?
Let's just say the driving
range is worth $10,000.
You still owe me 2.
She's been here a while.
Am I early?
Mr. McAvoy, I can appreciate that you
have a fairly laid-back lifestyle...
...but I have hours to keep.
All right. A former paramour
once ascribed my...
...fluid sense of time to being
born under the sign of Pisces.
Something about floating
through the universe.
Oh, you amuse me, Roy.
But I'm the only woman born after World
War II who thinks astrology's bullshit.
Let's see if the big dog'll eat.
Waggle.
I'm waggling.
Set up to the ball.
I am.
You're trying to wring the club's neck.
Show a little warmth.
A little compassion.
Remember this game's about trust...
...and touch...
...and letting go.
So while I subtly enhance
your technical prospects...
...why don't you tell me
about your personal life.
That's none of your business.
Your boyfriend's a golfer.
That's my bet.
He's the reason you're learning.
Hell, I probably even know him.
Get your hands off her.
Hi, honey.
Hi, darling.
He's taking her to Miami
for the fucking Doral!
I can't compete with that!
You are having a bad week.
She must think I'm a nothing.
Such a loser, a lousy driving
range pro, living in a Winnebago.
She doesn't know you live here.
She knows I'm not taking
her to no Doral...
...for massages and mimosas all weekend.
- I didn't leave it out.
- Well, I didn't.
I must do something with my life.
You just threw that in the spa.
Must rise to a level worthy of
the women who think I'm a joke.
You could go out and win the
U.S. Open. That'd impress her.
What?
Win the Open.
She'll think, "You're wonderful, Roy."
Romeo, that idea has promise.
The U.S. Open? The biggest
golf tournament in the world?
Not just the biggest...
...the most democratic golf
tournament in the world.
- What do you mean?
- It's open.
So?
Anyone with a 2 handicap or
better's got a shot at it.
You just must get through a local
and sectional qualifier, then like...
...Doral or Colonial or
AT&T, they can't keep you out.
They can't ask you if you're
a garbage man or a...
...driving range pro whose
checks are signed by a stripper.
You qualify, you're in.
You don't got the game.
I got every shot in the book.
I'm talking about the game.
The mental game. La
cabeza, you don't got it.
Since you're the authority,
teach me what I ain't...
...and never will be.
What for? You never listen to me.
This time'll be different.
- Right.
- I promise.
You don't have the money to get
your golf clubs out of hock.
That don't fit.
Don't force it if it don't...
Is that what those things were?
Flowers.
You're going to play me
for $400 with those?
And I'll give you two strokes a side.
You ain't got no 400 bucks.
My car title's collateral.
I ain't interested in
that piece of shit.
That's 'cause you think
of it as transportation.
Think of it as bragging rights.
Think of sitting around the bar crowing
about the Cadillac you won from me.
They'll forget all about the
Winnebago you lost to me.
I'll call the INS on you, you midget.
I'll be playing a pink lady today.
That little pink fag ball
supposed to intimidate me?
Not unless I knock it by you.
Louisville Slugger, please.
I believe you're away.
Don't worry about it.
I thought I caught it on the toe.
You drive for show and you
putt for dough, big mouth.
Did you hear that?
Boone was being profound.
Stay out of the rough. I recommend...
...the shovel.
That's what I think.
I want a legitimate swing.
No scooping.
I'll finish.
Get the hell off my course.
Need a receipt?
You know what I think? She's
got you by the huevos.
Your job is to teach me patience and
humility. Don't advise me on love-life.
Not all my thinking
occurs below the belt.
I stand for a few things besides
my next romantic interlude.
You'll have no trouble telling her you
can't teach her until after the Open.
That'd make an issue out of
something that's not an issue.
Besides, I'm focused.
I am!
This is my quest!
This is my stand for the
guys who've had their...
...fill of soulless
robots like David Simms.
He may be a soulless robot...
...but he's a rich, happy soulless robot
with a beautiful doctor-lady girlfriend.
How'll getting into the Open
change her opinion of you?
It'll show her I'm not
who she thinks I am.
You are who she thinks you are, man!
No, I will not give you time
off to go win the Open.
I don't care if it's your quest.
How about my destiny?
Or your destiny. Or any other term
you remember from Cliff Notes.
That looks stupid.
You get mean, then petty.
If you had been just a little nicer
to me when we were an item...
...then maybe I wouldn't
be such a nasty boss.
I have a business to run.
Bye-bye.
Becky, come here, sweetheart.
Right now, hurry up.
Your natural thing is really sweet,
but we don't do natural here.
We do big and bold, colorful
hair, lots of it. Look at me.
That's what we do.
If you're going to take that
tone then we'll talk later.
I'm sorry, I have things to do.
I don't need to be treated like that.
So, good-bye.
It wouldn't kill you just once
to tell her she's beautiful...
...or that she can dance...
...or she's sexy.
Here I am, ready to charge forth
in pursuit of my destiny...
...and I can't get time
off work to do it.
I'm no expert here, but
it seems to me that...
...the pursuit of destiny
isn't something...
...you need to get off
a $7 per hour job to do.
I'm stuck, man. I'm buried.
I need help.
I need advice. I need counseling.
I need a shrink.
You don't know no shrinks.
I know one.
No, no, no, not the doctor-lady.
Why not?
You can't ask her advice about
the woman you're trying to hose.
Why not?
I didn't say shit!
Get in the other room, please.
Sue Ann, honey, it's okay. Okay.
You're going to be fine.
Take a deep breath.
She was crying when she came out.
So maybe it's something you said...
That's the patient exit room.
I knew it was some kind of room.
There were no magazines.
Why are you here?
Therapy.
You've come for therapy? Okay, look.
You need to make an appointment
because I have a client in half an hour.
That's fine, I'm not that fucked up.
Why don't you just have
a seat right there.
Right over there.
So how do I do it?
Therapy, I mean.
How do I start doing it?
In your parlance, "Kick back
and let the big dog eat."
Suppose there's a guy and he's
standing on the shore of a river...
...and river's full of piranhas,
alligators, eddies, shit like that.
And nobody'll even go
down there to dip a toe.
And on the other side of the river's
a million bucks, on this side a boat.
I guess my question is...
...what would possess
a guy to swim for it?
He's an idiot.
No, see, he's a hell of a swimmer.
His problem is more like why
does he always have to...
...rise to the challenge?
He's a juvenile idiot.
You don't understand.
We're talking about you
and your inner demons.
That human frailty you blather about.
Not some mytho-poetic
metaphor you come up with...
...in a feeble and transparent
effort to do yourself credit.
You're going to make me feel lousy?
I want to feel better. What
kind of therapy is this?
You don't have any inner demons.
You have inner crapola.
Inner debris, garbage...
...horseshit in staggering amounts.
I'm not some just jerk
driving range pro...
...who drinks too much booze,
eats too few vegetables, okay?
Sit down.
You're getting defensive, and I want
you to just tell me why you're here.
A woman.
A woman.
Have you asked her out?
Nah, she's seeing a guy.
But he's a real horse's
ass, if you ask me.
Maybe if you shared your heart
with this woman at dinner...
...these issues would be in the open.
I'm afraid she'll say no.
So, your speeches about swimming
across shark-infested waters...
...are about your golf game and
not about your personal life?
Good, then...
I didn't know we'd get
into my personal life.
This is therapy, Roy.
I know, but...
...I didn't know it was that kind.
Let's make this simple.
Please, sit down right here.
Those risks you love to take on the golf
course you talk so poetically about.
You need to apply those risks to
your personal life as passionately.
I should just ask her out?
And risk coming right over the
top, hooking it out of bounds?
Absolutely, Roy.
- That's good.
- No, I'm sorry.
Look...
...all you must do is walk up to
this woman, look her in the eye...
Look at me.
Look her in the eyes, that's right.
Let down your guard...
...and don't try to be cool,
just be honest and take a risk.
And then, whatever happens,
if you act from the heart...
...you can't make a mistake.
Dr. Griswold...
Yes?
I think I'm in love with you.
From the moment I first saw you...
...I knew I was through with
bar girls and strippers and...
...when you first started talking
I was smitten with you...
...and I'm smitten with you more
every day I think of you and...
...the fact you know I'm full of crapola
makes you more attractive to me.
Usually I can bullshit
people, but not you.
And in addition, you
got great legs and...
...most women I'm thinking about
how to get into their pants, with you...
I'm just...
...thinking about
getting into your heart.
Stunned?
So...
...so what about dinner and
we can talk about us...
...and if we have a future...
...and how to drop that
horse's ass boyfriend of yours.
Slow down.
I'm staring eagle in the face.
Just cut the golf talk, please.
Because this is a mistake.
I'm acting from the heart,
how can that be a mistake?
Right?
Wrong, Roy.
I mean, shit!
I didn't know you meant me.
Would your advice have been different?
This session is over. I have
someone coming soon. Leave.
I take it your answer is no.
Our relationship is and will
remain strictly professional.
That's it?
I'm going to qualify for the U.S.
Open and kick your boyfriend's ass.
Whatever you think of me, you
should know he hates old people...
...children, dogs...
...and that broad's crying
still in the exit room.
You're still in the exit room.
Hello?!
Dr. Kasseldorf?
You're there.
You said to call if something
came up that confused me...
...and shrinks need shrinks...
But, it happened. You said it would.
A patient thinks he's
falling in love with me.
He's not really a patient,
he's my golf pro, but...
I know that under the circumstance I
should recommend another therapist.
But there aren't any in Salome.
He'd have to drive 100 miles
to Midland or Odessa.
I'm not sure you could
count on help there.
Me?
No, my self-esteem is fine.
My self-esteem is fine.
He's a good-looking man.
Green eyes. I don't know, I mean...
That's not the point, is it?
He's, you know...
...he's kind of cute. He's cute.
But...
You got a beautiful swing.
I'm a beautiful guy.
Look, Roy, I came to apologize, okay?
For what?
You did what I said...
...and I poured cold water
over your efforts. I didn't get it.
I'm a terrible shrink, probably.
Should've stayed in real estate.
Actually, I should have never left
Ohio for that cowboy in Amarillo.
Ever been to Amarillo?
Cowboy?
Yeah. It's not as romantic when
you're actually with one, trust me.
So, the oil man in Dallas or Houston,
I don't know where he was from.
Anyway, he looked great.
After that, I went to the Gulf
and ended up in trailer sales.
Then condos in Corpus Christi.
The bottom, just, boom, fell right out
of the market so I needed a new gig.
A new gig?
Yeah, therapy.
I took all the classes.
I'm legitimate. Legal.
Certified. Fuck! I'm certifiable.
I'm really sorry.
Oh, boy.
Can I have a doughnut?
Thanks.
Okay, look...
I am flattered you asked me out.
I can't accept because
I'm involved with David.
I haven't seen him treat old
people, children or dogs badly.
I'm sorry.
I got carried away with the
David thing. I should have...
I just want to make a
proposal, all right?
As long as you understand that
it's strictly professional...
...we're not going out.
Tee it up.
I think I can help you with
the mental aspects of the game.
Romeo is your swing doctor,
I'll be your head doctor.
What?
You just said yourself
you're a crumby shrink.
I can improve, Roy.
I don't have the money to
pay you! I'm broke!
You don't need any money to pay me!
We'll trade services.
I'll give you my services
for golf lessons and...
...I can help you
through the qualifying.
If you make it into the Open...
I'm on my own, you'll be with David.
I don't want this.
Third in the group, playing out
of Salome, Texas: Roy McAvoy.
Ben Hogan, now, who's he?
I find him mildly attractive when he's
obnoxious and arrogant like this.
Oh, good.
That's his best side.
They bugging you?
Way I'm swinging today, nothing bugs
me except insufficient applause.
Give me the lumber.
I think you want to hit the 2-iron.
I said I want the big dog.
You got a tight par 5 here...
...with out of bounds on the left.
The 2-iron seems best.
I'm not going left or right
of those trees, okay?
I'm going over those
trees, with a little draw.
That way I get home in 2. That
way I'm putting for eagle.
You don't need an eagle to qualify.
Practice playing it safe.
- No mistakes wins the Open.
- I want the course record.
The lumber.
You won't listen to me, will you?
Even when I'm trying to help you, man.
After all these years you
think I'm full of shit?
I'll get penalized for slow play.
Give me the driver.
You're a head case. You always
have been, always will be.
Let's ask her.
Dr. Griswold.
Should I hit the big dog or the 2?
Soliciting shot selection
advice is a 2 stroke penalty.
Trust your feelings.
Now give me the driver and shut up.
The driver?
Fine.
Here.
Hit the driver, Tin Cup.
I changed my mind. Give me the 3-wood.
You can't throw that
dog leg with a 3-wood.
You want to bet?
Fine, take the 3-wood.
Take it and show me
what a golf pro does.
Guess I'm going with
the safe shot, boys.
But, you know, sometimes I fan that 2.
You better give me the 3.
Is this normal behavior?
The word normal and him don't
often collide in the same sentence.
And sometimes I catch
that 3 a little thin too.
- Don't do this.
- I've hit flies with the 4.
Hit the damn ball.
I've hooked my 5.
I've shanked the 6.
Sculled the 8. Fatted the 9.
Chili-dipped the wedge.
And I've bladed the sand.
Putter?
There is Mr. 3-Wiggle, isn't there?
But then there's the 7-iron.
I never miss with the 7-iron.
It's the only truly safe club in my bag.
The bag's lighter. You happy?
No, I'm not happy, man.
I'm tired!
My life's too short to watch you blow
up all... I've done it too many times.
Quitting?
Goddamn!
First sign of adversity, you quit.
God! First time you can
qualify for the Open!
What's wrong with you?
Who wants to bet I can't
par with a 7-iron?
Anybody?
Take the bet.
Shut up and hit the ball!
You the man, Cup.
Thank you, boys.
What do you think my best shot was?
The 7-iron on 12?
- That was a good one.
- Or was it 7-iron on 14?
That was better.
What about that bunker shot on 18
which to my recollection was a 7-iron.
Yes, it was!
All good.
You're the man.
Hey, Doc!
How'd I do?
You failed miserably.
What're you talking about?
I qualified for the sectionals.
You did.
I did.
With a 7-iron.
Yes, siree.
Look, your job isn't just
to qualify for the Open.
It's to prepare for the Open.
My job is to help you prepare.
Now, you said trust my feelings.
I did.
I didn't know you felt like
breaking all your clubs...
...and getting in a contest
with your caddy.
Who quit.
He always quits.
He ought to be here.
To the quitter.
The little quitter.
Nonetheless.
Nonetheless...
...from the mental aspect,
which is my domain...
...you've regressed.
And are fumbling between
delusion and denial.
Regression, delusion, denial.
Why must you use all the
psychological language?
Having a bad day?
No.
Hi, honey.
Shot a 65.
Parred the backside with a 7-iron.
Why?
Yeah, that's exactly right.
That's the question, "Why?"
Because he broke his other clubs.
Snapped them in two.
- Jesus.
- Not all of them.
Romeo broke two.
I'm on your side here.
We go way back.
I hope you qualify for the Open.
But if you do...
...you better play with control...
...or you'll get slaughtered.
Good players shoot an 82 in the Open.
You see...
...it means you just can't go for it.
I swear to God, this guy is
not who you think he is.
It's a known fact...
...if a camera's not on him he treats
old people and kids like dirt.
And dogs.
Jesus.
Yeah, don't forget dogs.
Okay, guys. You know what?
We better go. Come on.
I guess so.
You ever shoot par with a 7-iron?
Hell, Roy...
...it never occurred to me to try.
I bet you $1,000 against my car
that I can beat you any game.
Any game...
...any golf club.
Come on, Roy, this is ridiculous.
Chicken?
What, are you going to lay up
the way you did in the Masters?
Any game, I name it?
No, it's okay. I'm just going
to teach old Roy here a lesson.
Why do men insist on
measuring their dicks?
All right, let's measure.
Roy! For God's sakes
I wasn't being literal!
David, let's go.
Wait. Molly, I got this one.
We'll just call this Roy's mental
preparation for the U.S. Opening.
Where the rough is deep, the greens
slick, and the nerves shattered.
I'll take the bet.
What's the game?
Your 7-iron, Roy.
One swing each.
Whoever hits the longest.
It's a lock.
I hit the 7-iron like
John Daly hits the 3.
Winner, winner, chicken dinner!
Here okay?
Fine.
You guys are really being childish.
Leave it to me.
I know what I'm doing.
You know what? I'll
see you both in the bar.
Bye.
Dollar bills.
Them signs are at
least 30 yards further.
That ball must have gone 220.
Nah, 227.
I toed it, but it'll do!
- That's 227.
- Take your time.
Limber up, fine with me.
That's all right.
I don't need to.
Take your jacket off.
I'm fine.
You'll have to muscle up to get
it out there, give it the old...
...steroid jerk!
What the hell is he doing?
He hit it down the
fucking road, didn't he?
It's still going.
You the man, Roy. You the man.
You are definitely the man.
So long!
And the man needs a ride home.
I always liked that car.
I wish Romeo were here.
I'm not cut out for this shit.
I'm an observer by nature.
Earl, shut up.
Give me the big dog.
Big dog!
I thought that was the big fucking dog.
Here, let me carry that.
- You all right?
- Aw, shit.
Give me the bag.
No.
All right.
Get him.
Like a million others you
made in your life, Roy.
Just see it going in.
Just feel it.
Right in the back of the jar.
Lord
I can't afford to lose
Romes, you come back!
You should've been there.
I drained a 30-foot snake to qualify.
Earl gives me the straight read,
thing breaks half a dozen times.
I missed you, pods. I missed you.
Okay, don't talk. You're still my guy.
It's a little late to be pissed off.
We're in the Open.
You and me.
Fine, be like that.
Molly been around?
Neither her nor me or the god of golf...
...will keep you from
blowing up in the Open.
I made it this far.
Didn't I? Didn't I? All I must do is
hold it together for 72 more holes.
There's a lot of triple-bogies
waiting to grab your white ass.
You complaining again?
Is that what I hear?
Shut up.
You're back whining, pissing,
moaning. You're back.
You're my man.
What, you didn't fall in love
with Earl to be your caddy.
He's a heart attack waiting to happen.
Cost me 3 strokes a side.
Hell, I had to carry the
bag the last 4 holes.
Look...
...I love old Earl, but...
...I need you.
You don't love me?
Well, yeah, yeah, I love
you too, goddamn it.
As much as Earl?
I don't know!
When I was with Earl,
I was thinking of you.
Yes, as much as Earl.
More than Earl.
More than Earl.
Am I special?
If you remove the sexual overtones...
...and add a golf theme, then, Romeo...
...I am your Juliet.
In that case...
...Julieta...
...I am your caddy.
Nobody's heard from Molly?
You got it bad?
Something about that chick.
Little chili-dipper there.
Be sure to do that in the
Open, it'll impress them.
I'm watching.
That ain't a chili-dipper.
Looks like you got el hosel.
You know, the laterals.
The "S" word.
What's wrong?
I don't know. The shanks are
like a virus. They just show up.
Nobody can figure them out.
Something's terribly wrong!
Something's wrong.
It's okay.
Well?
What's your guess?
It must be the woman.
You said a virus.
A woman can have the same effect.
What do I do?
Just keep swinging.
You'll be fine.
Don't say a fucking word.
I'll be inside if you need me.
Just work it out.
Hello?
Is anybody home?
My God!
Therapist laughs at the patient?
Is that how it works?
Is it?
A man's laid bare before God,
he's the butt of the cosmic joke.
I'm sorry.
Really.
Some of this shit might
actually work, you know.
There's something to this hat.
The golf ball pendulum thing.
May be onto something.
Oh, Jesus, Roy.
Quoting yourself, "It is a paraphernalia
for lost and desperate souls."
A lost and desperate
soul stands before you.
I assume I have the confidentiality
of the doctor/client...
...privilege in regard to this outfit?
Of course.
What happened?
I got the shanks.
Are you taking penicillin?
There's a glitch in my swing.
That's Romeo's department.
He thinks it's your department.
Says it's a head thing.
I just came over to congratulate
you on the sectionals and...
...to return your car.
David just wanted to make a point.
You know what?
I suppose we could have a therapy
session right here and now.
I don't want therapy.
I want you.
I want you.
I must get some air.
Molly, wait.
Look at me.
Well, not at the moment,
but just listen to me.
You're with the wrong guy.
I'm the right guy.
Everyone says my face is
screwed up tight as a drum.
I know it's because I've
been crazy about you...
...from the moment you came
here wearing this stupid shit.
The whole thing's inspired me to get
here and caused me to get the shanks...
...which would humiliate me in front
of a billion people in a game...
...I used to play pretty good.
Such is life.
So dump that phony bastard you're with
and come to the Open in my corner.
Tell me...
...you're not just at least...
...moderately attracted to me.
You have moments, Roy.
You tell me which ones are my
moments and I'll duplicate them.
This is a moment.
Now?
I mean, just utterly exposed,
completely vulnerable...
...inner child trying to get out.
Yeah? My inner child needs a spanking?
I don't have a car.
Need a ride.
I know a little spot along the
river that's great to watch sunsets.
- I do.
- Watch the road.
- I know a spot that's great for sunsets.
- I bet you do.
Not tonight.
That means maybe some other night.
I didn't mean it like that.
Maybe consciously you didn't mean
it that way, but unconsciously...
Did you mean it unconsciously?
Unconsciously, I don't have a
clue what I'm talking about.
I feel we're making progress.
I do too.
I have no idea what it's
progress towards, though.
Consciously or unconsciously?
It may not be much of a
river to you, but to me...
...the Mississippi, the Rio Grande...
...the Danube...
...the Amazon.
I don't know about the Amazon, Roy.
Isn't it obvious to you
that you and me are...
...as comfortable together as...
...a couple of old shoes?
Old shoes?
Look, David's a really good person.
Whenever anybody says they're
with a really good person...
...it means they're about to leave them.
You're awfully judgmental.
It's one of my few redeeming virtues.
David's involved in a
lot of charity work.
- Gets his name in the papers.
- Let me just finish.
Many people don't see he's sensitive.
Well, so am I. I mean, hell...
Shit, I'm twice as sensitive
as he is. I mean, I...
I brought you to the river.
That's a...
...nature kind of thing.
It is a nature kind of thing.
It's a very nice river. Thank you.
But that's not the point. The point
is David is there for me.
Oh, God.
Not the...
..."He's a very good person
and he's there for me" thing.
Let me be your shrink.
That's not a good idea.
You sound like a woman
looking for a way out.
Warm?
That's enough, Roy.
I'm sorry.
We could kiss.
No, look, no harm, no foul just a...
...little, small, innocent kind of...
...kind of...
...semi...
...platonic...
Roy, there's no such thing as...
...semi-platonic, Roy.
There ought to be.
You should take me home.
Well...
Good luck in the Open.
It's got your name on it.
It's Lee Janzen and Billy Mayfair.
They look just like they do on TV.
Look.
Look at these balls.
Brand-new Titleist.
Look at them.
Every one of them, brand-new Titleist.
Sneak a few in the bag.
We swipe enough free shit,
we may pay for this fiasco.
Would it be inappropriate if I asked
Lee Janzen for his autograph?
I think that's a dead giveaway, but if I
got the shanks, we'll be found out soon.
Hit the 7.
You always hit that good.
Good thinking.
Come on, man.
Keep your head down.
You're making me nervous.
- Who hit that shot?!
- Yeah, who hit it?
Anyone see?
You're supposed to be pros!
- A little thin.
- A little fucking thin.
I still got the shanks.
- Don't worry.
- Everyone's watching.
Nobody's watching.
Just hit them up. Just stand
up there. You can do it.
The guys down the line
are a little concerned.
You're Tin Cup?
Right, McAvoy from West Texas.
We're from West Texas.
Try aiming left.
Try backing up and giving
me just a little room.
That's Johnny Miller.
I don't give a fuck.
Jesus, Cup.
- Can I have your autograph.
- No problem. To who?
To Romeo, my best friend,
Good luck to you guys.
You might want to make plane
reservations soon, the way you're hitting.
Great Open in '73.
- What a nice guy.
- Did you get his autograph?
- Yeah, look... my best friend.
- See who's over there?
Jesus Christ.
It's only an autograph, man.
Simms is here.
Shit.
Hit your putter, you can't shank.
You're the Mexican Mac O'Grady.
Figure out why I'm shanking.
- Now what?
- Shoot.
I'm catching it on the hosel?
Moving my head?
- I'm laying it off?
- That, too.
I'm pronating.
- When you're not supinating.
- I'm clearing too early, too late.
My swing feels like an unfolding chair!
Put your change in your left pocket.
Go on, do it.
Now, tie your left
shoe in a double knot.
- Tie my left shoe?
- Right now, do it!
Turn the hat backwards.
Turn your hat around.
Do it, Roy!
Take this tee...
...and stick it...
...behind your left ear.
I look like a fool!
What do you think you look like
shooting chili peppers up Janzen's ass?
Do it now or I'm going to quit.
I swear to God I'll quit.
Good.
Take this ball...
...and hit it up the fairway.
You're ready.
How'd I do that?
Because you're not thinking
about shanking or Molly.
You're not thinking.
You're looking like a fool,
hitting the ball pure and simple...
Fuck you.
Fuck me, huh? Well, you're cured.
That's it?
That's it.
Your brain was getting in the way.
That's hardly ever been the case.
No shit, Sherlock.
What next?
You should work on
your short game but...
...get drunk.
Get drunk?
You play better.
Remember Brownsville?
Come on.
When do I tee off?
At 7:08. We're the first guys going.
Come on, one more, just do it.
Come on.
- Get it down.
- That's in 4 hours.
Right.
Here's to the finely-tuned
athlete on the verge of greatness.
Should have set an alarm.
The 7:08 pairing...
...from Salami, Texas, Mr. Roy McAvoy.
Any time for a quick bucket?
Tee it up.
We almost missed the starting
time getting you off the floor.
You don't handle hooch like you used to.
I've seen this hole on TV.
Hit the big dog up the chute.
I've learned my lesson.
I'll play it safe, smart...
...conservative.
Fairways and greens. Hand me a 2-iron.
You sure?
Here we go.
Not a good day.
Be humble.
Be humble.
You're humble now, homes.
I was hungover.
Maybe that was a coaching mistake.
Yeah, maybe it was.
Thanks, amigo.
David Simms...
...is the first-round leader at the
U.S. Open after a brilliant 67.
Well, Jim, I must tell you...
...I didn't expect to go out
there right out and shoot a 67.
I've marveled at how you've been
able to balance superb play...
...with the energy you give...
...to so many charities
and all of your fans.
Well, you know I...
This game is about...
...tradition and integrity and honor.
You know, the U.S. Open is it for us.
So I'm going to go out tomorrow
and try to make some good swings.
Lord willing...
...I'll do well and...
The Anti-Christ shoots 67.
Believe that?
Yeah, the old Antichrist
had a hot putter today.
Good seeing you.
Be well, buddy. I'll see
you out in the trenches.
I must run right now...
...but I'll see you later.
Christ Almighty Jesus.
The cover or nothing.
They want you for USA Weekend.
We're saying it's the cover or no go.
Excuse me, Mr. Simms.
Would you give our
grandson an autograph?
Please, Mr. Simms?
Can you people not see that
I'm busy? I'm working.
This is my office.
Do I come to your office
and ask for an autograph?
I don't think so.
Jesus.
What an ugly dog.
It's okay, Joe.
- Nice playing.
- Hell of a round.
Great start.
I got lucky out there.
Hello, Cup.
I heard you put a monster
number up there.
It could have been worse.
I played in the Pro-Am with some
asshole movie star here once.
Shot an 82.
Now, how in the world...
...can a great ball-striker like you...
...a legend...
...manage to put up an 83?
Well, I missed a 4-foot putt on 18...
...for an 82.
That's how.
Ain't like playing some muni-track
in Brownsville, is it?
Does "integrity, tradition and honor"...
...include kicking a man when he's down?
This is just guy stuff.
It's just bar talk.
No offense?
This man still has a lot of
great golf shots in his system.
It's okay. Go away.
Just... I don't need any
attention right now.
I'll bet you $100 that
Roy can hit a ball...
...through the door, over
the patio into the river.
And, Harold, give me a
vodka tonic with a twist.
Really, this isn't dignified.
Oh, I am so sorry.
I just want to go home.
What about the river?
The piranha, the immortality,
all that bullshit?
You going to drag your
ass home with an 83?
$200.
For $200...
...Roy can hit the ball through the bar,
out the patio, into the river...
...and make that pelican
right there fly off its post.
From right here.
God Almighty.
This is ridiculous.
You got the shot, pods.
Romeo, shut up.
Just turn it over and start it
off low and go it right to left...
He can do it.
You can do it. And I'm not leaving till
one of you men act in a manly fashion.
Can we get this over with?
One ball...
...one swing...
...one...
...pelican.
From there.
You can do it.
You're the man. Shut him up.
One swing?
One swing.
Give him 10-1.
I'll need a fairway.
Here's what he's got.
through the doors, over umbrellas...
...then carry 30 yards of river.
He must pop that pelican off its perch.
Kind of a thin line.
Beats that deep shit
rough you were in all day.
Pelican's on the other side.
What a tough shot.
He's just got to be thinking of that
brutal, ego-sapping, manhood-robbing...
...83 he buried himself under today.
That's an avalanche of strokes.
Get control of that guy.
Will you shut up? Get down.
Did you see that shot?!
Oh, my God!
That should cover it.
You know...
...you're all fucking nuts.
You really look good.
Oh, God.
Oh, my God.
I kind of shanked that.
Come on!
Shit.
God.
Shit, man.
Tempo's everything.
Perfection is...
...unattainable.
You know, someone said...
...golf and sex are the only things
you don't have to be good at to enjoy.
Can I have a Mulligan?
- A what?
- Mulligan.
What's a Mulligan?
Just hold still...
...don't move...
...and I'll show you.
In fact, wait a minute,
get on top. I'll show you.
I'll tee it up.
Come on, Roy.
Welcome everyone,
Jim Nantz with Ken Venturi.
The sun's struggling to appear.
The course is drying up.
In case you're just joining us...
...David Simms is tied for the lead
at 5 under par with Peter Jacobsen.
But the real story today
involves a driving range pro...
...who shot an opening
round 83 yesterday...
...but is now making U.S. Open history.
The single round record in Open history
is in jeopardy because of McAvoy.
Another driving range pro,
it's all we needed.
It's heroes that I need.
Not obscure driving range pros.
Okay, Ben, back at 16.
This putt he's studied from every
angle and I'm sure he knows...
...it's got to be firm on the
left-hand edge with this putt.
Get thumbnails on these guys.
I don't know where he's from...
...but here he is, going
ten under, if he makes it.
Look at that. Smooth as silk.
He's made it!
Man alive!
This is the stuff
of legend, I would say.
Who is McAvoy?
You ever hear of this McAvoy guy?
Roy McAvoy, after a par at 17.
An eagle to shoot 60...
...although no one has knocked it
onto the green in 2 here today.
It's not a shot you want
to be aggressive with.
You gotta be conservative,
you gotta think to shot out.
He's in great position.
It's a 3 shot par 5.
Especially today, a
little wind in the face.
John Daly ended up in the water
going for this green in two.
Hit hard.
Jimmy, if he lays up, he
takes the bogey out of play.
He goes for the green,
he brings 6 in, he brings 7 in.
He must remember he's in contention.
He has a chance to win.
He must play smart.
He didn't have enough club.
Well, what the hell?
You ride her until she bucks you...
...or don't ride at all.
If he can still knock a
wedge close and make par...
...it'd be one of the most
remarkable turn-arounds in history.
He's got 85 yards from here and the
drop zone is short of the water.
He'll need to get it on the upper
level of the multi-terraced green.
That's a good solid shot leaving
him about 12 feet away for par.
A par and 62...
...the all-time Open round record.
Good stroke.
He's got it.
Unbelievable.
McAvoy has done it.
You just saw the greatest round
in U.S. Open history.
The all-time lowest round in a major
doesn't belong to a Jack Nicklaus...
...or an Arnold Palmer...
...Hogan or Sneed.
It's been shot by the
most improbable artist.
Roy McAvoy has his signature...
...on golf's all-time
masterpiece round.
I've got money from the bet.
Let's go somewhere fancy and celebrate.
There's nothing to celebrate.
Besides, these are my people.
I'm a Waffle House guy.
Got to stay in touch with that.
Plus, he needs his carbohydrates.
Plus, if the boys in Salome
were in town, they'd come here.
The legend!
We've been on a bus 2 days.
It's so good to see you.
Sweet 62!
Put the tables together.
Does this feel like home?
We just want you to know we
are with you all the way.
Doreen, meet Dr. Griswold.
This is Molly.
She's my shrink.
Well, ex-shrink.
We're sleeping together, so I can't be.
Knew it. Thanks.
Knew what?
Nothing.
Good luck.
You know what? I've got
a little extra cash...
...why don't we go somewhere
a little fancy and celebrate?
Why?
In honor of...
It's the Waffle House.
I know.
I've been dreaming about
waffles for 1,800 miles.
Me too.
There's a Waffle House like
this in Odessa, Texas.
No, Midlands.
It's in Odessa.
It's in Odessa. I'm from Odessa.
I was born there.
That's where it is.
The man.
To the Cup!
Cup Man!
You didn't have to do that.
You look lovely tonight.
Thank you.
I don't know if anyone told you,
but you're a great dancer.
Really?
But they had one there.
That's all I'm saying.
It was Odessa.
That's not what I was talking about,
you know where we stopped.
There's an easy way to figure this out.
You ever tango?
No.
Do you?
Romeo, you dance?
It doesn't matter!
It doesn't get much better than this.
This extraordinary Roy McAvoy,
he just won't go away.
This humble pro from Salome,
wherever that is.
- Little town, west Texas.
- It hasn't been discovered yet.
Over to 18, guys, quickly.
John Cook at the par 518th.
No stranger to championship play.
And he's going to lay up.
Meanwhile, here's Roy McAvoy.
He has the same shot he knocked
in the water yesterday.
The thing to do is tune out the
gallery saying "go for it."
He's back in contention, but he
must continue to play smart.
Give me a 3-wood.
He's pulled the 3-wood and he continues
to play without an ounce of fear.
That is just inexperience,
just pure and simple.
This is for Venturi up in the
booth thinking I should lay up.
What does he know? He only won this
tournament before you were born.
Caught it a little bit high, a breeze
in his face. That's got to go.
- He's done it again.
- No, not again.
He has found the water for
the third straight day.
What was he thinking about?
Give me another ball.
What?
It's a water hazard.
You go up there and take a drop.
Try to save par, like yesterday.
You're right.
What the hell was I thinking?
He's tied for the lead...
...this Roy McAvoy, this "Tin Cup"
this empty cup...
...this air-brain out of nowhere.
West Texas.
Thank you for West Texas.
You went for the green on 18 today.
Do you think that cost you?
I saved par, didn't I?
Didn't I?
You had the same shot yesterday
on 18 without a headwind.
You don't think I can?
It's unlikely.
So am I. Look at me, all right?
Look what I'm wearing. I'm playing
for Rio Grande Short-Haul Trucking.
Brink's and Brown's Sanitation.
First State Bank of Salome.
Woody's Smokehouse.
You think a guy like me bothers
to worry about the percentages?
Are you nervous about tomorrow, Roy?
It won't always be like this, you know.
What?
With me, surrounded by
all these guys snoring.
Stripper ex-girlfriend
laying across from us.
My caddie sleeping next to her.
It won't always be like this.
Yes, it will, Roy.
It will.
Dollar bills.
Dollar bills.
Dollar bills.
First up in the final pairing,
from Salome, Texas...
...Roy McAvoy.
Fairways and greens, and
don't forget to wave...
...as I blow by.
You mean blow up, don't you,
sport? You always do.
Playing out of Houston, Texas...
...David Simms.
It's okay, exactly where you are.
You're in great shape.
How's the lie?
Shit, it's buried.
Don't touch it.
I know the rules.
What'll you do?
Go right through there.
Go for it.
- Oh, God!
- Don't worry about it.
It was my fault. I gave you
the wrong club. You'll be fine.
Don't worry. You did fine.
Give me the club.
We've just heard Roy McAvoy has
taken a disastrous double-bogey...
...to open his final round here.
Trouble back there.
Just keep making pars.
I'll take 18 of them, all day.
Do it, and I'll own you.
Fore!
Roy McAvoy's second shot...
...at the second hole has
gone deep into the woods.
For a report on his plight,
let's go to Gary McCord...
...who has spent most of his life
in the woods and in darkness.
He's in jail here.
No chance for parole.
He's got to hit the ball back in the
fairway, pitch the ball on the green...
...and get up and down for par.
No chance to hit it on the green.
$50 says I knock it on with a 7-iron.
On the green?
Right.
You got it.
Move these people back right here.
I'm going right there.
What's he got?
What's he doing?
He's going to try to ricochet off
the toilet with a hooded 7-iron.
He's hitting off the shitter.
I can't believe he's doing this.
DVT 1, record.
Record this.
Roy McAvoy has banked his third
shot at the second hole...
...between the trees, off a water closet,
or loo, as you might call it...
...and got it on the green,
somehow, in three.
May be the shot that gets
him back on track here.
It could erase that double-bogey.
Best thing that ever happened to him.
Oh, that was great.
I didn't know there was a mirror
in here. Isn't that cute?
Let me just look at my...
Looks level. Roll it in like
you know what you're doing.
Hit it close, sport.
How did he get the name Tin Cup?
He was the catcher on the
high school baseball team.
Star pitcher had a curve.
Not all his pitches hit Roy in the mitt.
Team thought "Tin Cup" was a
whole lot better than "Clank."
Fuck.
Too bad.
Can I ask you a question?
Have you ever had a Latin lover?
Where does he get his name
from is what I want to know.
Why did you wait so long to
leave that Simms character?
It takes time to realize Prince Charming
might be wearing a beer-stained shirt...
...eating sausage...
...making $7 an hour
in some driving range.
You don't try to fix men, I hope.
Men cannot be fixed, especially him.
I've been pathetically
slow learning that lesson.
- How are you?
- How are you?
Good.
I could use help.
I've seen what you've done with McAvoy.
It could come in handy.
Let me give you my card.
Great.
If you have more of these, a bunch of
the other guys could use your help.
Take them all.
- This is Doreen.
- Hi, how are you?
My number's there, call any time.
I counsel couples, so bring
your caddie if you want.
I'll think about it,
and I'll give you a call.
Thanks.
Bye, nice meeting you.
Cheers.
Cheers.
That puts Jacobsen
into a tie at 7, guys.
That Tin Cup guy is one shot back.
Let's keep abreast of that.
That birdie by Peter
Jacobsen forged a tie...
...at 7 under with David Simms.
And Roy McAvoy
just won't go away.
He's only one shot back at 6 under par.
He's throwing darts. If we don't make
birdies, we're playing for second.
Can you believe McAvoy's still here?
I can't believe "Tin Cup" might
appear with my name on a trophy.
It's come down to the 72nd
hole of this championship...
...and 3 men all battling to be
crowned the Open champion.
Jacobsen's on the fairway...
...at 8 under par...
...tied for the lead with Roy
McAvoy, who's on the 18th tee.
And David Simms is back
there trailing by one.
- Jacobsen's laying up.
- Took out an iron.
Jacobsen's going to lay up.
He's tied for the lead.
Assures himself of a par...
...and with his short game...
...he could make birdie.
You ain't going to have that luxury.
Not if you play to win.
We've seen this position before.
McAvoy with another
perfect drive at the 18th.
The last thing he needs right now
is an excuse to go for the green.
I didn't catch it all.
Well, that's okay.
You'll have to lay up then.
This is for par.
So, birdie wins it.
That's par.
He's in the lead.
They all must catch him.
You or me, Dave?
He's laying up.
He's laying up.
Birdie to tie, eagle to win.
Gutless wonder's laying up.
It's birdie to win and par
to tie for you. Lay up.
You can still make a birdie laying up.
You know what?
If I make an eagle that puts me 10 under.
No one's ever finished an Open
You don't need an eagle to win.
Birdie wins, par ties.
Lay it up.
Birdie wins, parties. Hole out
a wedge for a goddamn eagle?!
This is everything.
This is the choice it comes down
to, this is our immortality.
Don't think about immortality,
think "hit the 7-iron."
No, no, no. This is what always
happens. He's going for it.
Go for it!
Molly, get a grip.
He only needs par to tie.
Tell him to lay up.
Go for it, Roy! Just knock it on!
This is why we broke up.
He always went for it.
My problem is, I've never been
with a man who went for it.
Honey, he's your guy.
One swing, Roy.
One good swing.
John Daly couldn't do it.
What's he doing?
Unbelievable he's going
for it 4 days in a row.
No, 3 days he's put it in the water.
It'll be 4 days if he hits his 3-wood.
Come on, baby.
We're home.
This has a chance.
It's got to go.
This has a chance.
I think he's done it.
Little gust there.
Stay up!
Stay up!
Stay up!
You can still make par from there.
Right.
Take a drop, we'll make par, we'll tie.
I nutted that thing.
I mean, I nutted it.
I know. You put a hell of a move on it.
Little gust from the gods cost me.
We'll take our drop, tie...
...and win the playoff.
- I can make that shot!
- I know!
- But not now!
- Now!
I'm playing it from right here, now.
Make your par.
Now.
Take your drop.
Give me a ball.
Unbelievable.
I can't watch this.
Fourth shot.
I don't believe this. He could go
up, use the drop zone, make par...
...force a playoff with
Jacobsen and get out of here.
Easy, guys. He can still make 5.
He can still make 5.
We could still have a playoff.
Give me a ball.
Take a drop.
Give me a ball!
Just take your drop.
Dropping 5, hitting 6.
What's he doing? All he'd have to
do is walk up there and take a drop.
Make a 5, for crying out loud.
That's insane.
Somebody tackle him.
Give me a ball.
Dropping 7...
...hitting his 8th shot.
It's a miracle he lasted this long.
We ought to have
a camera on Simms.
He can't watch.
Someone tell him he doesn't
have to hit it from there.
He's dropping 9. He's hitting 10.
God, I'm going to faint.
Oh, Jesus.
This is the last ball in the bag.
This gets wet, we're disqualified.
I can make it across.
Then do it.
Quit fucking around.
He's crazy.
Oh, God. He's right.
You're right, Roy!
Just knock it on! Let her rip!
- You're losing it.
- I have lost it.
But so has he.
- He's crazy.
- So are you.
This is a 12.
He must start worrying about
qualifying for next year's Open.
He lost this one.
He'll end up selling...
...ties and renting golf
carts the rest of his life.
I don't know what I'm feeling. This is
the most painful thing I've ever seen.
He doesn't finish the
hole with this ball...
...he's disqualified.
Oh, my God. Dear Lord, please.
Dear Lord.
Get over.
He's over.
I can't believe it!
I love you!
My God!
- Unbelievable!
- Jesus Christ!
Did you see this?
That was a 12. That was a 12.
He was on the green
and in and out in 12.
Boss, you blew that one.
- I didn't come here to play for second.
- Simms'll always be second.
I'll meet you at the Winnebago!
I'll fire up the blender!
I just gave away the U.S. Open.
That was incredible! That was
the shot of the tournament!
I just gave away the U.S. Open.
It doesn't matter.
One time in my life I know the
safe play to hit and I still...
Shit, I still can't make myself do it.
It doesn't matter.
My whole career, my whole
life on the line...
I just made a 12 on the
last hole of the Open!
You sure did. It was the
greatest 12 of all time.
No one's going to remember the
Open 5 years from now, who won...
...but they'll remember your 12!
My, God, Roy, it was...
Well, it's immortal!
I am so proud of you!
I gotta hand it to you.
When you go down,
you go down in flames.
Never mind.
Kiss me.
- David, you got a minute?
- Not right now.
Can I have your autograph?
Sure, I always got time
for my fans, darling.
Don't you look cute. Come on under.
Nice par, David.
By finishing in the top 15 at the Open
you qualified to be in it next year.
Really?
I didn't know that.
With your game you could go back to the
qualifying school and go out on tour.
Then I wouldn't see you.
Actually, I picked up a whole
bunch of new clients at the Open.
Guys said if I could do that for you,
imagine what I could do for them.
There's a lot of head cases out there.
A man goes through what I have...
...he's supposed to learn something.
I'm trying to figure out what I learned.
You think I learned anything?
You learned a little discipline,
some self-control.
I learned...
...you can't just listen to your
heart, but also to your brain.
I'm learning how to listen
to that tuning fork...
...throw caution to the wind and...
...take crazy risks I never
thought were possible.
Come on, Molly, when did
you ever take a crazy risk?
I'm with you, Roy.
I'm with you.
You know...
...we could kiss...
You mean like a no harm, no foul kiss?
Yeah, kind of a semi-platonic little...
...sweet...
...innocent...
Good idea!