Ken Levine, who's a terrific screenwriter (and understandably loves Sorkin)
wrote a short little excerpt of what he envisioned a baseball movie by
Sorkin would look like. Since Sorkin is now writing a baseball movie, he
reprinted it on his blog:

http://kenlevine.blogspot.com/2009/07/aaron-sorkin-to-rewrite-moneyball.html


When it was announced that the MONEYBALL movie project was back on and that
Aaron Sorkin had been hired to rewrite the script a number of sports
websites linked to a satirical piece I wrote about three years called IF
AARON SORKIN WROTE A SHOW ABOUT BASEBALL. I was spoofing his then-series,
STUDIO 60. Thanks to Rob Neyer of ESPN and others I've gotten a ton of hits.
But for regular blog readers or new blog readers here's a reprint.
Everything old IS new again.

This is how I imagined a typical scene would go.

EXT. KAUFFMAN STADIUM -- NIGHT

THE MANAGER, LEO, TROTS OUT TO THE MOUND TO TALK TO BELEAGURED PITCHER,
DANNY (THERE’S ALWAYS A DANNY). THE BASES ARE LOADED. THE CROWD IS GOING
NUTS. IT’S GAME SEVEN OF THE WORLD SERIES.

LEO
You can’t get a good lobster in this town.

DANNY
Last I checked we were in Kansas City.

LEO
4.6 billion pork ribs sold every year and 18.9 tons of beef consumed
annually since 1997 –

DANNY
They like their beef, what can I tell ya?

LEO
But you’d think just for variety’s sake.

DANNY
I can still throw my curve.

LEO
For strikes?

DANNY
I’m not throwing enough?

LEO
I’ve seen more lobsters.

DANNY WALKS TO THE ROSIN SACK, GIVES IT A SQUEEZE, DECIDES TO KEEP WALKING.
HE AND LEO NOW WALK OUT INTO CENTER FIELD.

DANNY
It’s just that…

LEO
What? Kathy?

DANNY
No. Cabs. There’s no cohesiveness on this team. After road games, 25 cabs
for 25 players. There used to be a thing called “the greater good”, forgoing
your needs for the betterment of the team and community who looks to us for
their identity and self worth. When I’m trying to save a game I’m really
trying to save a factory. If baseball is a metaphor for life, then
responsibility is its first cousin simile. And Kathy.

LEO
That’s a “1” on your back and not a “2”.

DANNY
I can’t help it. She knocks my sanitary socks off.

THEY CROSS THE CENTER FIELDER, HECTOR.

HECTOR
(in thick accent) Hey, Skip. You know where we could get a lobster around
here?

LEO
Order a steak with butter sauce.

THEY REACH THE WALL AND BEGIN WALKING AROUND THE WARNING TRACK.

DANNY
I only became a pitcher because of her.

LEO
Does she know that?

DANNY
She knows that a human arm is not supposed to throw a baseball 100 miles per
hour. And she knows that Jesus Christ could strike out Babe Ruth every at
bat for ten years without so much as a rotator tear. But to answer your
question – what was your question again?

LEO
Can you still throw your curve ball for strikes?

DANNY
No. The other one.

LEO
Does Kathy know you became a pitcher for her?

THEY REACH THE RIGHT FIELDER, AN AFRO-AMERICAN NAMED CHET.

CHET
Look up in the stands, guys. Not four black faces. Would Jackie Robinson
even want to break into this game now? If this sport speaks to minorities
now it speaks in Spanish. Afro-Americans make up less than 5% of the major
leagues. Compare that to basketball, football, or even golf. Satchel Paige
said, “don’t look back, something might be gaining on ya.” I just did. It’s
now hockey.

LEO
Play a little closer to the line.

THEY CONTINUE WALKING AROUND THE WARNING TRACK.

DANNY
I think she knows.

LEO
But do you really know if she knows?

DANNY
No.

LEO
Then you know what you’ve got to do.

DANNY
Yeah.

LEO
Throw strikes.

DANNY
Right. Thanks.

LEO
And when you get home –

DANNY
Yeah?

LEO
Tell her.

DANNY
I’ll take her out for a lobster.

LEO
What do you mean, 25 cabs for 25 players?

AS THEY START AROUND THE WARNING TRACK FOR ANOTHER LAP, WE:

FADE OUT.


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