02x32 - Take Me Out to the Ball Game

[bunniefuu]

Uh, ahem.

How do I look? [Wilma] You got your hat on backwards.

It's supposed to be. It tells people I'm an umpire.

Oh, I'd better go see for myself.

Hm. Heh, heh.

Not bad. What do you think, Wilma?

[Wilma] Say "cheese." Cheese.

[horn honking]

[whistle chirps]

[siren wailing]

[whistle chirps]

[humming]

[squawks] My favorite, yabba-dabba-dooberry.

Thank you, Snipper. It's all right.

[car tires screech, then crashing]

All right, Dino. Daddy's home.

[yapping]

The city is no place to raise a dinosaur.

That Dino is not going to jump on me tonight.

Dino! Daddy's home!

Down, Dino, down!

Heel, boy! Heel! Heel!

That you, Fred?

Why don't you lie down, dear, and relax 'til dinner's ready.

I'm lying down, but who can relax?

Come on, put me down, boy. Down.

Oh, Fred, get up.

Well, why can't he be like other dogs and bring things to me instead of vice versa?

He's still a puppy.

Besides, you started it when you taught him to fetch the evening paper.

Which reminds me, where is the paper?

Where the newsboy usually puts it, I suppose.

Up on the roof again?

No. I told him last week you were tired of climbing up there for the paper.

So this week he's being more careful.

I think you'll find it in the cactus hedges somewhere.

Don't go away, dear. Dinner's almost ready.

I'm just gonna look for the paper.

Here's your paper, Mr. Flintstone.

Put it right here.

Arnold!

Can't stop, Mr. Flintstone. I'll be late for baseball practice.

[Fred] Baseball practice?

Sure. I'm the pitcher. Be seeing you.

"Pee Wee League play-off, Saturday.

Bedrock versus Grittsburgh."

[crashing]

Hail? In July?

[crashing continues]

It's that gooney bird laying eggs on my TV antenna.

"Official Pee Wee League Ball Ford Brick President"

Nice catch, Fred.

You wanna clean up your yard a little? We're running out of balls over here.

All right, Rubble. What is this?

That's a baseball, Fred.

All these little round things lying on the ground are baseballs, too.

I know that, but how about them hitting my roof?

Yeah, how about that? Isn't it great? Great?

Sure. Every ball that hits your roof is a home run.

Oh, yeah? What about this one that conked me?

Aw, sorry, Fred, but we can't count that.

Your skull is foul territory. [laughing]

What are you talking about? Who is "We"?

"We" is the Giants. Come on over and meet them.

Giants? Where? Where? Where? I don't see any giants.

You're standing in them.

Hiya, Mr. Flintstone. Arnold!

We call him Stretch because he's so tall.

[whistle chirps]

Okay, you guys. Out in the field and shag flies.

Except you.

Uh, Slugger, put your batting cap on and knock out a few flies for the men.

Got you, coach.

And give it everything you got. Will do, coach.

Say, aren't you little Eugene Slate, my boss' kid?

My professional name in baseball circles... is Slugger.

You want I should pitch batting practice, coach?

No, Stretch. Save the old soupbone for the big game.

We'll use the pitching machine.

Okay, baby. Let's chuck them in there.

Uh, you want me to lob them, or you want mustard on them?

Uh, mix them up. Okay, coach.

Pretty neat.

In the Pee Wee League, we spare no expense to bring the lads the most modern and up-to-date sporting equipment.

Hey, the kids are good.

Well, I just try to give them all the benefits of my vast experience and know-how.

[Melvin] It's all mine! I'll get it! I'll get it!

I got it!

Nice catch, Melvin!

I never knew you played baseball, Barney. Oh, I never did.

If you never played, where'd you get all the know-how?

From watching baseball commercials. Where else?

[whistle chirps]

Okay, men, come on in, and we'll choose up sides.

Hey, you wanna get in the game, Fred?

You could use a little exercise around your infield.

Oh. Heh, heh. That wouldn't be fair.

I mean, a big guy like me on one side...

We're building good sportsmanship here, Fred.

The side that gets you will just have to learn to be good losers.

Okay, men, choose your teams.

And for my last choice, I'll take, uh...

I'll take, uh... I'll take Clarence.

Yippee! I made it! I made it!

Sorry, Mr. Flintstone.

I would have chosen you if it had been for football or tug of w*r, or even king of the mountain. You'd have made a good mountain.

Aw, thanks, Arnold.

But I don't know much about baseball, anyway.

Well, in that case, how about you being umpire?

Umpire? [Arnold] Sure.

You got the eye for it and the mouth, too.

Look how good you ball me up when I miss your front porch with my curve and your paper lands on the roof.

Umpire?

Thanks, Arnold. But Mr. Flintstone doesn't know much about baseball, anyway.

Who says I don't?

Play ball!

[Wilma] Look at that clock. Almost 7:00 p.m.

If Fred doesn't come home soon, dinner will be ruined.

[Betty sighs] I'm used to it.

Since Barney got involved with the league, he's never home before dinner is ruined.

I can't understand where Fred went.

And I fixed his favorite yabba-dabba-dooberry pie for dessert.

What are you going to do?

Call Fred home the supersonic way with a whistle only his nose can hear.

Strike one!

Strike? That was a mile over my head.

I say it's a strike, and I'm the umpire.

I say it was a ball.

And I'm Eugene Slate, your boss' little boy.

Well, I call them as I see them!

But I'll see what I can do on the next one.

Ball one!

You called that before the ball even got here.

So? Why wait 'til the last minute?

Now play ball, or I'll throw you out of the game.

[sniffing]

[baseball hits glove]

[catcher] Well? [Eugene] Yeah. Well?

[sniffing]

Too. Two what?

Too dark to tell.

This game is called because of yabba-dabba-dooberry pie.

[panting]

Ha! Stop begging, Dino.

If daddy's not home in five minutes, you'll get his hash.

[Fred] Wilma! I'm back!

[grumbling indistinctly]

You took the words right out of my mouth, Dino.

Boy, that exercise sure gives you an appetite.

[Wilma] Exercise?

You mean you've been out playing polo with your millionaire friends again?

No. I've been out playing with a bunch of giants.

Ask a silly question, get a silly answer.

Gee, wait 'til I tell Fred that a real big-league scout was scouting him.

Uh, let's not say anything about it, Rubble.

I like to observe new prospects in their own home.

Feel about carefully, see if they got the stuff to be umpires.

Uh, you don't want me to tell him you're a scout?

We'll keep it hush-hush until the time is right.

[Fred] I'll get it, Wilma.

Hiya, Freddie-boy. Hiya, Barney. Come in.

Long time no see. Yeah. Almost 15 minutes.

Get that snappy comeback, no hesitation.

I, uh, notice you brought someone with you.

Good eyes. Quick grasp of the situation.

Uh, I'm Fred Flintstone.

Self-confidence and poise oozing out of every pore.

What are you, Rubble, a kook?

A keen judge of human nature.

I'll ask you one more time. [Barney] He's patient.

What's going on?

You couldn't ask for better projection, right from the diaphragm.

Nice pear shape, all right.

Out!

Beautiful, Fred. Beautiful. What do you think, scout?

I got goose pimples, Rubble. He's got the stuff to be a star.

Flintstone, my name is J. Walter Amalgam.

What would you say, Fred, if I told you, you are shaking the hand of our country's greatest scout?

I'd say you were nutty.

He don't even know the scout handshake.

But Amalgam says we gotta bring me along slow.

Maybe start right here in Bedrock this Saturday... at the Pee Wee League play-offs.

Hey, that's great. With you calling the game, Bedrock would be sure to beat Grittsburgh.

Hold it, Rubble. I call them as I see them!

There's not much difference between an umpire and a husband.

They make quick decisions, never change their minds and you can never be sure if they're safe when they're out.

I don't think Fred will go through with it.

After all, he's got a good job down at the rock quarry.

And Mr. Slate would never give him time off to play with the children.

[Slate] Yeah, sure. I'll talk to him right away.

Flintstone!

Whoa! Whoa!

Flintstone! [stammering]

Yes, sir, Mr. Slate, sir.

Is all the falderal and fiddle-de-dee about you umpiring the Pee Wee League game Saturday true?

Yes, sir.

All that falderal and fiddle-de-dee... is true, Mr. Slate. Good. Good.

Take the day off. Rest those precious eyes.

We want to make sure you see them as you call them, Saturday.

Yes, sir. Uh, sir.

[knocking]

Just a minute. Coming.

Fred. Is that you under there? [Fred] And who were you expecting?

What are you doing home so early?

Were you fired? Not only was I not fired, Mr. Slate just gave me a bonus and Saturday off.

To keep you from becoming an umpire?

To help me to become an umpire.

Where is the bonus? I spent it on the tools of my new trade.

What's that supposed to be? A chest protector.

Give me a hand, Wilma. Sure, Fred.

I just dig that crazy turtle girdle.

Give me my cap.

The new no-cal cap for umpires with fat heads.

Oh, you are droll.

Uh, ahem.

How do I look? You got your hat on backwards.

It's supposed to be. It tells people I'm an umpire.

Oh, I'd better go see for myself.

Hm. Heh, heh.

Not bad. What do you think, Wilma?

[Wilma] Say "cheese." Cheese.

Fred, dinner's ready.

Sweeping off the plate? Fred, for goodness' sake.

I got to get some practice, don't I?

But, honestly, aren't you overdoing it?

Ah, this is a great book, Wilma, very inspiring.

"The Power of Positive Umpiring."

Listen to this.

"If you can keep your head while those about you are losing theirs and blaming it on you."

It's only a game, Fred.

"If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you and little children whistle and boo."

The Pee Wee League is for children.

"If you can smile while all your friends desert you."

Pee Wee League baseball is not for grownups.

"Remember, sticks and stones may break your bones... but names will never hurt you."

[Wilma] It's supposed to be fun.

"If you can be... Continued on the next page...

Hey... "If you can be calm when the crowd calls you dumb, then and only then you'll be an umpire, you bum."

Fred, why don't you forget it?

Oh, yeah? The kids need some sort of adult supervision or they won't take it seriously.

I'll bet there isn't a father in town taking it seriously.

Arnold, I had a long talk with your teacher today and she tells me you've been neglecting your studies.

Now, all you've been doing is talking baseball, baseball, baseball.

Son, I'm proud of you. That's the way to win.

Hey, Pa, do I really have to practice for another hour?

Of course, you have to practice for another hour.

So put that fiddle down, and go back out in the yard and start pitching to your mother again.

Your slider needs a lot of work.

Dust her off once in a while to keep her honest.

Honest, Pop. I tried and tried.

But I just can't learn to make the pivot on the double play.

What could I tell them down at the office?

I've got a son who's all washed up at 7?

Eugene, the important thing in life is to be a good sport.

Yes, sir. It isn't just winning that counts, it's how you win.

You understand? Yes, sir.

And I want you to know that even if the impossible happens and you lose Saturday, I'll still be your father.

Yes, sir. And as your father, I'd naturally... whip the living daylights out of you!

[Amalgam] Flintstone, you're a stupid ape, a bum, and a big fat robber.

[Fred] I still say you're out.

Beautiful. You got great control.

But don't look too pleasant. Nobody hates a pleasant umpire.

Snarl a little bit more. You got to be mean.

[snarling]

Great. Great. How are your nerves?

Steady as a rock.

Hm. Oh, well, you'll feel better after you toss out your first baseball player.

Oh, I hope I do good today. I got a lot of friends in the stands.

Friends? Don't be ridiculous. An umpire never has any friends.

It'd look suspicious.

But my best friend, Barney Rubble, is coaching the Bedrock Giants.

Excellent. Show him you're not prejudiced.

Throw him out right off the bat.

Hi, out there, you Pee Wee League friends.

This is your old country cousin, Red Blabbermouth bringing you the first game of the season between our own beloved Bedrock Giants...

[crowd cheering]

And their arch rivals, the Grittsburgh Pyrites.

Both teams are coming out on the field.

And here comes our umpire for today's game, Fast Freddy Flintstone.

Look, Mr. Slate. There's Fred. That's my man.

Yay, umpire!

[Wilma] How do you like that?

And I can't even get him to sweep out the garage.

[Betty] And there's Barney.

Look. He's offering Fred his hand in friendship.

That wasn't nice.

Fred doesn't want to tip off the Pyrites that the game is in the bag.

What makes you think so, Mr. Slate?

I'm Fred's boss, and he knows what this game means to me.

Uh, I mean, the kids. [laughs]

First man up for the Pyrites is little Sonny Tungsten.

Sonny is leading the league in stealing bases and losing teeth.

They're at the plate. Stretch Arnold is winding up.

There's the pitch. Strike one.

Your husband has keen eyesight, Mrs. Flintstone.

[baseball hits glove]

[Fred] Ball one! But he's blind as a bat!

Looks like it'll be a long, long game, Wilma.

It's been a long, tough ball game.

The score is Bedrock: 17, and Grittsburgh: 16.

The batter's up. Here comes the pitch.

Umpire Flintstone is holding up three fingers on his right hand and three fingers on his left.

Now he's changing to four and two. No, he's changing that.

Now he's holding up six fingers again on one hand?

Wait a minute. Here comes Coach Rubble of the Giants out on the field.

Looks like a rhubarb.

One more crack like that, Rubble, and out you go!

But I didn't say a word yet. No, but I know what you're thinking.

What was it, a ball or a strike?

[grumbles indistinctly] A ball?

Well, the least you could do is answer me.

I shook my head, didn't I?

Oh. I wondered what that rattling noise was.

[Red] And now, Stretch Arnold is on the mound, getting set.

He winds up. Here comes the pitch.

It's a change of pace. A slow ball.

What a pitcher that Arnold is. What control.

Izzy Norman is at bat. He swings and misses.

The ball didn't even reach the plate yet.

Oh, darn it!

[crowd cheers]

Wow, he didn't intend to hit it, but it's out of the ball park.

The score is even.

Wait a minute. Another rhubarb.

Both coaches are arguing with Umpire Flintstone.

But he swung twice.

That gives him four strikes, so he's out. You're right.

He hit the ball before it reached the catcher, so it was a home run.

You're right, too.

How can we both be right? Yeah, what about that?

Because I'm the umpire, and what I say goes!

It says so in the book.

[Red] This is the last inning.

That is pinch hitter, Sandy Sandpit, with a possible tie-breaking run at the plate.

Sandy bats in the neighborhood of 400.

That is, he's broken 400 windows in his neighborhood.

Arnold on the mound. Here's the pitch.

Sandy swings, and hits a beautiful line drive. And it's going.

Slugger Slate is after it as Sandy rounds second.

Stretch Arnold is in there, ready to cover.

And Sandy rounds third.

Slugger Slate whips the ball to Clarence who relays to Stretch Arnold now covering the plate.

Sandy Sandpit heading for home. Sandy hits the dirt.

It's a long slide for the plate.

Fred, watch out! [thuds]

Whoo-wee!

That was a close one.

Everyone is waiting for Umpire Flintstone's decision.

[Wilma] Oh, I hope Fred isn't hurt.

[Slate] It all depends on how he calls it.

Well? Yeah. Well?

Fred? Fred? [Fred groans]

It's okay, Rubble. I guess I was out.

Never mind you. All you need is a little rest and quiet.

What was the runner? Safe or out?

Uh, he was... [stammering]

Safe or...

Safe!

[crowd booing]

Just lie still 'til the swelling goes down, Fred.

Boy, was he wrong. Who was wrong?

The guy that said, "Sticks and stones could break my bones."

He didn't say anything about those pop bottles.

Oh, my aching head.

Wonder what my boss thinks after I called Eugene out on strikes five times.

Actually the fathers are evenly divided.

Half of them say you're a blind bandit who should be run out of town.

Then there's the sympathetic group who think that tar and feathers is enough.

Wilma, how's Fred?

It won't be long before he's back to his old stubborn self.

Oh! Hi, Fred. Um...

No chance at all of you reversing your decision?

No.

See, Betty? I told you it wouldn't be long.

Yeah.

Well, Fred, you know all those nasty things Barney said to you at the end of the game?

[Fred] I certainly do.

He told me to tell you he reiterates them.

Good. Tell him I accept his apology.

[Betty] What's that? [Wilma] It's a rock with a note attached.

"Reverse your decision or... Yours truly Anonymous."

Hm.

It couldn't be Barney. He couldn't even spell "anonymous."

Well, nobody's intimidiming... Indimitimming...

Nobody's pushing me around. My decision stands.

How far you figure on carrying that attitude, Fred?

[Fred] Why? You'd better start carrying it fast.

Here comes a great big mob up the front walk.

I still say he was safe!

Mr. Flintstone, us Giants came to appeal to you.

I'm sorry, Arnold. It won't do you any good.

I reached an optical conclusion, and I am not changing it.

[Arnold] We don't want you to. You don't?

You were right. We did lose fair and square.

And we've come to apologize for what poor sports our fathers are, and throwing all those pop bottles and stuff like that there.

Gosh. If you don't stand up to them they'll think they can get anything in life by bullying people.

That's no way to bring up a father.

[boys] Yeah!

Well... Gee whiz, men. That's nice of you to stand behind me.

We're proud knowing a man like you, Mr. Flintstone.

Nobody can push you around.

I'm proud of you fellas, too.

But I don't think winning a game is more important than having fun.

[Arnold] That's why we chose you.

You might be mean and grumbly, but you're honest.

We'd like you to do something for us.

And the Bedrock Giants have kindly donated all this nice athletic equipment and a specially built baseball diamond to you underprivileged fathers so you can get some good, healthy exercise and learn fair play.

You mean our sons are giving up the grand old game?

Oh, no, Mr. Slate. They got themselves a secret sandlot where they're gonna play by themselves without any adults sticking their noses in.

But who's gonna teach them?

First thing the little guys need is the fundamentals.

Barney, the first thing the little guys need is the fun.

Yeah!

Freddy Flintstone, you're all heart and a yard wide.

[yawns]

Wilma!

Wilma!

Come on, Wilma, open the door!

Wilma!