When Goodbye Goes Wrong

(Thursday night…)

BRANDON INGE:  Golly, twelve years and it’s over.  I can’t believe it.  It just went by so darned fast.  I still remember my rookie year and how nervous I was.  And who could forget 2003?  Wow, that was a rough time.  And 2006 we almost shocked the world, I tell ya.  Gracious, it was fun.  Making the All-Star team in 2009 was an honor, too.  There was Game 163, losing to Texas last year in the ALCS, all the ups and downs.  Golly, I wouldn’t trade it for anything, though.  I got to live my dream, ya know?  Boy, it’s a shame none of the other fellas could make it out tonight to say goodbye.  I can’t thank you enough for meeting me tonight.

DELMON YOUNG:  Fo sho, B.  Fo sho.  You my dude, Brandon.  All those games as a Twin, I was the enemy.  But I get traded to the D and you was the first to welcome me.  You was the first to make me feel at home, you feel me?  Ain’t no way I was gonna miss a chance to say goodbye.

/throws back shot

INGE:  Settle down on those, buddy.  Don’t want to get too knockered up.

YOUNG:  I’m cool, B.  I’m cool.  Gonna take a cab back to the hotel.  You sure I can’t get you a beer or something?

INGE:  No, I promised Shani I wouldn’t drink tonight.  We’ve got a lot of decisions to make about my future tomorrow.  I’m fine with my apple juice here.  Still, I do wish some of the other guys would have come.  I mean, you’re great, don’t get me wrong.  And I never expected to see HIM here.

JEREMY BONDERMAN:  BONDO LIVES IN BOX DOWN BY BROOKLYN BRIDGE.  IT SMELL LIKE HOT GARBAGE AND PEE PEE THERE.

YOUNG:  I know you friends with this fool, but why he livin’ by the bridge?

INGE:  Jeremy?  You’re rich, aren’t you?  How’d you end up homeless?

BONDERMAN:  BONDO NOT HOMELESS.  BONDO JUST LIKE FISHING.  GONNA CATCH ME A SEAHORSEY.  THEN MAKE WIFFLEBALL COMEBACK.

YOUNG:  Right.  Anyway, you know the guys, B.  Goodbyes are hard in the show, man.  They look at you and know it could be them some day.  Hic…sorry.

INGE:  Delmon, I think you’ve had enough.  You’ve gotta play the Yanks tomorrow.  They’re always a tough bunch.  I know you’re gonna miss me.  Hey, I’m gonna miss you and all the fellas, you know?  Try not to take it too hard.  You guys are gonna win the World Series this year, I think.  And no one’s gonna be cheering louder than me, pal.  I think I’m gonna head back to my hotel.  Gonna fly home in the morning and kiss my wife.  Then I’ll weigh my options.  I’m a lucky man, Delmon.  A lucky man.

YOUNG:  (wipes tear away) I love ya, dude.  You the man.

BONDERMAN:  I LOVE MONKEYS.  HAHA…MONKEYS.

INGE:  Take care, gents.  It’s been an honor.

/gets up

/spills apple juice on Delmon

INGE:  Oh no!  I’m sorry.  Look at your pants.

YOUNG:  Don’t worry about it, dude. (starts crying) I’m gonna miss you.

INGE:  Same here, pal.  Same here.  Seeya.

(Outside.)

YOUNG:  I can’t believe he’s gone.  Gone.  Damn!

BONDERMAN:  YOU LOOK STUPID WITH JUICE ALL OVER YOUR PANTS.  LOOK LIKE YOU MADE PEE PEE.  HA HA!

YOUNG:  Shut up about the juice, man!  FUCK THE JUICE!  WHO CARES ABOUT THE FUCKING JUICE!  Inge is gone, man!  FUCK THE JUICE!

NEW YORKER:  Wha’d you’se say about da Jews?  Anti-Semite!  Bodda bing, bodda boom.

YOUNG:  The Jews?  I said FUCK THE JUICE!

BONDERMAN:  OOOH!  A PENNY!

/bends over

/knocks Young into New Yorker

NEW YORKER:  Ahhh!  Police!  Help!

BONDERMAN:  UH OHS.  GOTTA GO.

YOUNG:  Shit.  Hic…