a play by John Stanley Urich
Herb – coach for youth baseball
Greg – coach for youth baseball
Marian – a woman in her thirties
A baseball field with a small grandstand. Noise of youth baseball
activity in the background.
Marian is concluding a heated discussion with Herb.
Greg listens from a distance.
… and I’m holding you personally responsible for this!
(MARIAN walks away.)
GREG: (approaching HERB)
Whoa! What was that all about?
That is one angry momma.
So what’s her beef?
Her daughter. The little girl. Lillian. She hangs around here sometimes.
You mean the one with the –
Right. The droopy eyes. The lips. Thick tongue. One of the players has been taunting her.
You’re shitting me.
Murphy. Little prick made her cry.
Murphy … again?
Taunting some poor kid with Down’s? That’s it. I’ve had it with that little wise-ass.
He’s outta here!
Greg – wait a minute.
I can’t allow that. He’s outta here! Finito!
Jesus, Greg. Two more weeks and we’re done. Look. We need this kid. He can freakin’ pitch.
I don’t care if he’s freakin’ Cy Young.
(He starts to walk toward the field.)
I’m bustin’ his ass right now.
HERB: (grabbing GREG)
Look man, I’ll talk to him.
GREG: (shoving HERB)
No way. I’ll talk to him.
HERB: (shrugging it off)
Hey man. Back off, okay?
Look. Two weeks. The playoffs. Then it’s over.
The playoffs huh? Well screw the playoffs. Hey, Murphy!
(shouting toward the field)
Where is that little shit?
Look … Herb … buddy … there’s something you don’t know.
Murphy, get over here! What don’t I know?
Murphy wasn’t the only one. Your kid was in on it, too.
My kid? Alex? That’s bullshit. I don’t believe it.
Ask the little girl’s mom. She swears it.
Yeah … damn.
(They stand wordless for a moment.)
Two more weeks, huh?
END OF PLAY