[The Indians are on a plane during a thunderstorm.]
[To Ricky, while he's listening to "Wild Thing" on the jukebox.]
Heywood: How's your wife and my kids?
Harry Doyle: In case you haven't noticed, and judging by the attendance you haven't, the Indians have managed to win a few ball games, and are threatening to climb out of the cellar.
Jake Taylor: I'm with the Indians
Vaughn: What's that shit on your chest?
[After sliding into home plate in a tux.]
Jake: That's my wife...
Willie Mays Hayes: I'm Willie Mays Hayes. I hit like Mays, and I run like Hayes.
Charlie Donovan: Vaughn's been looking good out there today.
Jake Taylor: [to Rexman] Hell of a situation we got here. Two on, two out, your team down a run and you've got the chance to be the hero on national television... if you don't blow it. Saw your wife last night. Great little dancer. That guy she was with? I'm sure he's a close personal friend, but tell me, what was he doing with her panties on his head? [Rexman pops the ball straight up] Oh, I don't think it's got the distance.
Board Member 1: I've never heard of half of these guys and the ones I do know are way past their prime.
Harry Doyle: That's all one goddamn hit.
Harry Doyle: Remember, fans, Tuesday is Die Hard Night. Free admission for anyone who was actually alive the last time the Indians won the pennant.
Harry Doyle: The post-game show is brought to you by... [searches through his papers] Aw, I can't find it. The hell with it!
[The Indians General Manager calls minor league coach Lou Brown at Tire World to offer him a position with the Indians]
[Rookie pitcher Ricky "Wild Thing" Vaughn is about to throw the final pitch for the Indians in the playoff game]
Harry Doyle: Heywood leads the league in most offensive categories, including nose hair. When this guy sneezes, he looks like a party favor.
Jake Taylor: I'm hung over, my knees are killin' me and if you're going to pull this shit at least you could've said you were from the Yankees!
Pedro Cerrano: Bats, they are sick. I cannot hit curveball. Straightball I hit it very much. Curveball, bats are afraid. I ask Jobu to come, take fear from bats. I offer him cigar, rum. He will come.
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