A heady brew of comedy, self-reflection and romance into the soaring spirit of hope and love

In a run down sports bar, tagged with a foreclosure notice, a former teenage tennis phenom serves up beers to a one-eyed ex-baseball star trying to land a radio spot and a former football great chasing his high school sweetheart.  As they each wait for a phone call, night falls and the doors open to characters who will change their lives, from the former hooker who loves to sing, a Chilean magazine publisher seeking a romantic dream, the sexy femme fatal haunting the bar, a beautiful, headstrong divorcee, a doddering sports agent on the brink of inheriting 35 million, and a desperate, mob-connected lawyer.

 

THE STORY

From winning glory and gold on the field to losing it all in terrible life choices, STREET, the once great NFL running back, STICK, the once-can’t miss baseball slugger and PEARL, the one-time tennis phenom find themselves stuck with each other in a rundown sports bar.

Each is waiting for a phone call they hope will change their destinies. But the joint is going to be foreclosed at midnight. MR. POTTS, the cagey owner, a former mouthpiece for the mob, is coming back to throw them out.

Not so fast.

Enter TAJ, the high school sweetheart, now a grown up divorced woman, who won’t let Street forget his betrayals.

Enter LALO, the broke Chilean sports publisher who has loved Pearl since he saw her on TV when she was a tennis wunderkind.

Enter MR.RITZO, Stick’s doddering, nearly blind one-time agent about to inherit thirty-five mil from his mother.

Bouncing back and forth between the agent and the bar is HOPE FLANAGAN, the street-savvy ex-hooker-chanteuse updating Stick on the condition of the agent’s dying mother. Will he come? Will she die?

And haunting the ballplayers’ pasts is the FEMME FATAL, the woman waiting in every hotel lobby when the players were on the road.

Esperanza is a comedy romance with the grit of three fallen stars making their final comeback from darkness when “that cheer is no longer meant for you.”  A triumph of the human spirit and love.

THE CHARACTERS

PEARL RIVERA: The Barmaid. A former teenage tennis phenom, who went on tour too early and found out too late that speed doesn’t make the ball spin faster. Late 20’s, she’s put on a few pounds, but still very pretty and very busty in her French cut T-shirt with “Midtown Sports Bar” scrolled across the front.

J.D. “Street” WILLIAMS: a former NFL star football player whose career was cut short when he tore up his knee. Early 30’s, African American, he’s wearing slacks and a bold Hawaiian print shirt, a little too tight for his aging weight.

RICK “Stick” MORAN: A one-time baseball phenom whose career ended with a fastball to his face. Early 30’s, Caucasian, patch over one eye. He, too, is dressed casual, a short sleeve polo, jeans and a sports jacket.

HOPE FLANAGAN: former street-smart hooker, who loves to sing; she’s in rehab. 20’s, with bunched up red curls.

EDUARDO (”LALO”) HENRI MONTERO RUIZ: Chilean magazine publisher. 30’s, tall, dark, handsome, in love with Pearl.

The FEMME FATAL: 25-40’s, in a thigh high skirt, stiletto heels and a feather wrap.

TAJ McWILLIAMS: Street’s high-school sweetheart. Street’s age,  African American, tall, very pretty, in a summer dress and a wide-brimmed sun hat.

MR. RITZO: Stick’s former agent. 70’ish, white Don King hair, glasses, toddles with a cane, and deaf in one ear. He’s wearing an ill-fitting plaid sports jacket and tuxedo black pants.

MR. POTTS: Owner of the Midtown Sports Bar and former mouthpiece for the mob. 55-60, tall, gaunt face, a gruff mound of volatile energy in a dark suit, silk tie and briefcase.

WE GOTTA GET THE GOLD

The fans and the coach are screaming. The pounding sound of the basketball blends into a collage of their words, drowned out by the cheering crowd at a high school gym, a packed arena, an Olympic field. But the loudest scream is in the athlete’s head: “We Gotta Get the Gold!” That’s what life’s about!

DANCERS/CHORUS
THAT’S WHAT LIFE’S ABOUT
IN THE MIDDLE OF THE RACE
WHEN YOU’RE SLIPPING TO LAST PLACE
AND YOU’VE LOST AN ATHLETE’S GRACE

YOU GOTTA THINK: GOLD!
YOU GOTTA THINK: GOLD!

THAT’S WHAT LIFE’S ABOUT
THAT’S WHAT ATHLETES DO
WHEN THEIR CHIN IS ON THE FLOOR
AND THE COACH IS SCREAMING: MORE!
AND THEY FEEL THE STADIUM ROAR
THEY KEEP THEIR EYES ON THE GOLD
THEY KEEP THEIR EYES ON THE GOLD

THAT’S WHAT LIFE’S ABOUT
THAT’S WHAT ATHLETES DO
NOTHING ELSE IS TRUE
WINNING KEEPS YOU YOUNG
LOSING MAKES YOU OLD
TIME CROWNS THE HERO
WITH HIS EYES ON THE GOLD

MALE DANCER 1
I WANTED TO BE DOSTOEVSKY
OR WRITE LIKE PADDY CHAYEFSKY
BUT MY PROSE WASN’T CLOSE
MY GIFT’S IN MY TOES
I BECAME THE SPOKESMAN FOR JET-SKIS!

DANCERS/CHORUS
IT MAKES BIG BUCKS BUT IT DON’T WIN GOLD

FEMALE DANCER 1
I WANTED TO BE POCAHONTAS
OR THE BRIDE OF THE POET CERVANTES
BUT WITHOUT NATIVE BEADS
OR A WINDMILL AND STEED
I BECAME A COLLECTOR OF TCHOTCHKES.

DANCERS/CHORUS
SHE BECAME A COLLECTOR OF TCHOTCHKES…
IT MAKES BIG BUCKS BUT IT DON’T WIN GOLD

MALE DANCER 2
I WANTED TO BE VALENTINO
AND MARRY THE WIDOW GAMBINO
BUT WITHOUT ARMANI CLOTHES
OR A GREAT ROMAN NOSE
I BECAME THE MERCHANT OF VINO.

DANCERS/CHORUS
HE BECAME THE MERCHANT OF VINO…
IT MAKES BIG BUCKS BUT IT DON’T WIN GOLD

FEMALE DANCER 2
I WANTED TO SING LIKE MARIE CALLAS
OR COMPOSE MUSIC LIKE WYNTON MARSALIS
BUT WITHOUT A GREEK TO ENGAGE
OR NOTES TO ARRANGE
I BECAME A CHEERLEADER FOR DALLAS

DANCERS/CHORUS
SHE BECAME A CHEERLEADER FOR DALLAS…
IT MAKES BIG BUCKS BUT IT DON’T WIN GOLD

MALE DANCER 3
I WANTED TO BE ISAAC NEWTON
OR DISCOVER A PROTON OR NEUTRON
BUT WITHOUT PHYSICS OR MATH
AND A GRANT-FUNDED STAFF
I BECAME THE KING OF THE FUTON.

DANCERS/CHORUS
HE BECAME THE KING OF THE FUTON….
IT MAKES BIG BUCKS BUT IT DON’T WIN GOLD

THAT’S WHAT LIFE IS ABOUT
THAT’S WHAT ATHLETES DO
NOTHING ELSE IS TRUE
WINNING KEEPS YOU YOUNG
LOSING MAKES YOU OLD
TIME CROWNS THE HERO
WITH HIS EYES ON THE GOLD

THAT’S WHAT LIFE’S ABOUT
THAT’S WHAT PEOPLE LEARN
FROM BASSINET TO WALKING STICK
THE TORCH DOESN’T BURN
FOR PEOPLE WHO STRIKE OUT
HESITATE OR DOUBT
PEOPLE WHO STRIKE OUT

WINNING KEEPS YOU YOUNG
LOSING MAKES YOU OLD
TIME CROWNS THE HERO
WITH HIS EYES ON THE GOLD

FEMME FATAL

She’s in every hotel lobby and bar waiting for the team’s arrival, waiting for the jock to look her way in her thigh-high skirt, her sky-high heels and her bosom bathed in the bar-room lights.

CAN YOU STILL HEAR ME?
DO YOU STILL FEEL ME?
I’M CALLING FROM A LOBBY PHONE
YOU TOLD ME ONCE HOW MUCH YOU LOVED ME
HOW MUCH YOU NEEDED MY ALLURE
I CAME TO YOU IN LOW-CUT DRESSES
IN STOLEN JEWELS
AND COSTLY FURS.

I AM THE FEMME FATAL
THAT WOMEN LOVE TO HATE
AND MEN CAN’T WAIT TO DATE
OUTSIDE THE MARRIAGE BED.

I AM THE FEMME FATAL
IN EVERY HOTEL BAR
I SHACK UP WITH HITTERS
QUARTERBACKS AND PITCHERS
AND DECK SEVEN-FOOTERS WITH MY CHARMS.

(DANCERS/CHORUS surround her)
SHE IS THE FEMME FATAL
IN EVERY BAR AT NIGHT
SHE LIGHTS UP THE ROOM WITH HER SKY-HIGH HEELS
AND HER FRENCH PERFUME.
SHE’S GOT HER NAILS OUT AND HER CLEAVAGE BARE
AND THE BOYS CAN’T WAIT TO NUZZLE HER HAIR.

FEMME FATAL
CAN YOU STILL HEAR ME?
DO YOU STILL FEEL ME?
I’M CALLING FROM A LOBBY PHONE
DO YOU REMEMBER WHEN WE DANCED AT MIDNIGHT
DINED ON STEAKS AND DRANK CHAMPAGNE
AND ALL YOUR KISSES TOUCHED MY BODY
WITH EACH MENTION OF MY NAME.

I AM THE QUEEN OF LUST
THE EMPRESS OF THE DARK
BOYS ARE MY MINNOWS
I’M THEIR MOTHER SHARK

THERE IS NO END TO DREAMS
WHEN THEY TOUCH MY BREASTS
AND THE MIRACLE CONTINUES WHEN WE GET UNDRESSED.

CHORUS
SHE IS THE QUEEN OF LUST
THE EMPRESS OF THE DARK
BOYS ARE HER MINNOWS AND SHE’S MOTHER SHARK
SHE DANCED IN HER STOCKINGS TILL HER PANTIES FELL
AND HER BOOTY SWUNG LIKE THE FREEDOM BELL.

FEMME FATAL
I WAS FREEDOM
I WAS THE ONE WHO RELEASED YOUR POWER
WHO GAVE YOU A FARAWAY HOME
YOU WERE THE PRINCE ALONE IN THE TOWER
STARING AT DARKNESS, FORGETTING THE HOUR
INVITING THE GIRL ON THE LOBBY PHONE

DO YOU REMEMBER?
BECAUSE I CAN’T FORGET THOSE CAVIAR NIGHTS
CHAMPAGNE I SIPPED AND JEWELRY I WORE
BUT YOUR FACE IS A BLUR AND NAMES SIMPLY STIR
LIKE THE WIND ON A DESOLATE SHORE.

(The DANCERS/CHORUS takes places at the tables and along the bar, as the FEMME FATAL ascends the staircase.)

I AM THE FEMME FATAL,
THE EMPRESS OF THE DARK
LONGING AGAIN FOR YOUR SOUL
IN A THIGH HIGH SKIRT AND SKY HIGH HEELS
WE WERE OVERNIGHT LOVERS LONG AGO.

ESPERANZA

Once we have lost love, we can only hope love will touch us again.
And all the past chances fall away when two hearts meet.

I COULD HAVE BEEN…
WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?
I NEVER WAS WHAT I DIDN’T DREAM

I COULD HAVE LOVED
IN DIFFERENT TIMES
BUT WHEN I HEARD YOUR VOICE
I KNEW YOUR HEART WAS MINE

THAT’S JUST THE WAY IT’S ALWAYS BEEN
YOU TAKE WHAT’S GIVEN… IN THE END
YOU NEVER KNOW WHAT MIGHT HAVE BEEN
THE HANDS THAT RULE THE CLOCK
HAVE NO DESIRE TO PRETEND.

BRING ME BACK YOUR KISS AGAIN
THE SMILE IN YOUR EYES I CAN’T FORGET
(PEARL) THE STARS THAT DREW ME CLOSE TO YOU
(LALO) THE CINDERELLA SHOES YOU WORE
THE PLACES WHERE WE MET

ESPERANZA, THAT’S ALL THE MAGIC I WAS GIVEN
THE HOPE THAT LOVE WILL DRAW MY NAME AGAIN
AND FROM THE DARKNESS I WAS LIVING
THE HANDS OF TIME WILL GENTLY BEND TO YOU…

THAT’S JUST THE WAY IT’S ALWAYS BEEN
YOU TAKE WHAT’S GIVEN… IN THE END
YOU NEVER KNOW WHAT MIGHT HAVE BEEN

THE HANDS THAT RULE THE CLOCK
HAVE NO DESIRE TO PRETEND.
I COULD HAVE BEEN… WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?
I NEVER WAS WHAT I DIDN’T DREAM

I COULD HAVE LOVED
IN DIFFERENT TIMES
BUT WHEN I HEARD YOUR VOICE
I KNEW YOUR HEART WAS MINE…
I KNEW YOUR HEART WAS MINE.

I WAS BRED TO BE A GENTLEMAN

The Chilean publisher, Lalo, describes his upbringing in the whirl of the rich and powerful Santiago society.

I WAS BRED TO BE A GENTLEMAN
IN THE FINEST CHILEAN SCHOOLS
I GREW UP IN A MANSION
WITH SERVANTS AND FASHION
AND THE STRICTEST OF CORPORATE RULES

I WAS BRED TO BE A PROMOTER
OF THE WEALTHIEST SYMBOLS IN LIFE
OF BEAUTIFUL WOMEN, AND ALL WAS FORGIVEN
WHEN YOU SLEPT WITH YOUR PARTNER’S WIFE

I WAS BORN TO BE A SUCCESS
FROM THE DAY I ENTERED THIS WORLD
BUT MONEY MEANT NOTHING
LIFE ONLY MEANT SOMETHING
WHEN I DREAMED OF THE TEENAGE PEARL.

CAFES AND CONCERTS SWEPT BY ME
AS I DANCED IN A NIGHTCLUB WHIRL
OF WOMEN OF LEISURE AND PLEASURE FOR MEASURE
WHICH IS WHAT I WAS ACCUSTOMED TO
BUT LIFE ONLY MEANT SOMETHING
IN THIS FANTASY SWIRL
WHEN I LOOKED AT THE SKY
AND SAW STREAMING BY
NOT JETS OR THE ALL-SEEING EYE
BUT THE GHOST OF MY TEENAGE PEARL.

 

WE’VE GOT TO FIGHT OUR WAY

Street’s recognition that it’s up to them to leave the past behind, face who they are without a uniform on and a number on their back,  face the “me” they never let grow into a man…

WE’VE GOT TO FIGHT OUR WAY OUT OF THIS MESS
WE’VE GOT TO FIND THE ME OUR GIFT NEVER MET
THE PART OF OURSELVES THAT WE LEFT BEHIND
THAT HID IN OUR PSYCHES AND SLEPT IN OUR MINDS

YES! WE’VE GOT TO TELL EACH OTHER THE TRUTH
NO MATTER HOW HURTFUL OR ANGRY IT SEEMS
THE GODS WON’T ASK US TO TRAMPLE OUR LIVES
OR QUESTION THE SOURCE OF OUR CHILDHOOD DREAMS.

HE LOST HIS HEARING

HOPE
HE LOST HIS HEARING
WHEN HE WAS NEARING SIXTY-TWO
AND HIS BALANCE AND CHOLESTEROL
ACCORDING TO THE CLINIC
ARE OUT OF WHACK
HE’S IN THE RED ZONE FOR A STROKE
A TRANSPLANT SEEMS REMOTE
HE’S IN THE END ZONE FOR…
A HEART ATTACK!

MR. RITZO, SUPER AGENT NUMBER ONE
IS LONG IN THE TOOTH AND STUMBLES IN THE SUN
HIS MOTHER IS DYING AND HE’S CLOSE BEHIND
BUT DON’T COUNT HIM OUT AT HIS OWN GOAL LINE.

HE’S GOT A ROLODEX OF NUMBERS
AND CALLBACKS ON HIS DESK
WHEN HE CAN’T REACH NEW YORK HE DIALS OUT WEST.
HE’S KNOWN IN EVERY CONFERENCE, EVERY STADIUM AND GYM
WHEN YOU DEAL WITH RITZO YOU HAVE TO SHOUT AT HIM.

RITZO IS NO STRANGER
TO THE COWBOYS, JETS OR HEAT
HE CLAIMS HE’S WATCHED EACH INNING
EVERY QUARTER, EVERY HALF
AND REPPED THE GREATEST ATHLETES
IN THE ANNUAL COLLEGE DRAFTS
OWNERS SHOOK AND QUIVERED
AT THE MENTION OF HIS NAME
BUT THAT WAS LONG BEFORE COMPUTERS
AND THE X BOX GAMES
HE SIGNED THE LIKES OF MICKEY, WILLIE AND KAREEM
BUT ALL HIS BOYS PLAY GOLF NOW
OR LIE BENEATH THE GREEN.

WE’VE ALL BEEN IN THE BUSHES

Hope and Stick  acknowledge their errant pasts  but see in their mistakes  the path to light and love.

HOPE
WE’VE ALL BEEN IN THE BUSHES ONCE OR TWICE
IT’S NOT EMBARRASSING
IT’S JUST THE WAY LIFE BRINGS A MESSAGE TO THE HEART.

STREET
IT’S NOT EMBARRASSING
IT’S JUST THE WAY LIFE BRINGS A MESSAGE TO THE HEART.

HOPE
IT DOESN’T TAKE A LOT TO FALL
FROM LADY GRACE
IT’S JUST A TINY SQUARE,
A CROWDED SPACE THAT PEOPLE CLING TO
AND WHEN THE TIMES GET TOUGH
AND MAMA’S WORDS ARE NOT ENOUGH
GRACE BECOMES A VERY DISTANT
VERY INCONSISTENT
EVEN QUITE RESISTANT PLACE

STICK
IT’S JUST THE WAY LIFE BRINGS ABOUT A MESSAGE TO THE HEART.

HOPE
I’VE SEEN THE WORLD TURN DARK BEFORE MY EYES

STICK
I’VE SEEN IT TOO….

HOPE
WHEN DEALERS DARE THE MORNING SUN TO RISE

STICK
I’VE BEEN THERE TOO…

HOPE
AND LYING TO MYSELF I CALLED ON DEATH
WITHOUT A RAY OF HOPE
I KISSED THE DEVIL’S BREATH

STICK
I’VE DONE THAT TOO…

HOPE&STICK
WE’VE ALL BEEN IN THE BUSHES ONCE OR TWICE
IT’S NOT EMBARRASSING
IT’S JUST THE WAY LIFE BRINGS ABOUT A MESSAGE TO THE HEART.
IT’S JUST THE WAY LIFE BRINGS ABOUT A MESSAGE TO THE HEART.

 

WHEN I WAS YOUNG

Pearl recounts her barrio upbringing, her first love, her teenage rise to fame, the whirl of international success and her drug-filled fall from grace.

WHEN I WAS YOUNG, MY FATHER TOOK ME
ACROSS THE BARRIO TRACKS AND LANES
WE DROVE DOWN ROADS OF VERDANT FARMLAND
THROUGH GOLDEN FIELDS OF WAVING GRAIN

A COUNTRY CLUB LOOMED IN THE DISTANCE
SURROUNDED BY A SUMMER BREEZE
WHILE HE SERVED DRINKS TO WEALTHY PATRONS
AS WHITE AS HIS STARCHED COAT AND GLOVES

A TEENAGE BOY GLANCED BRIEFLY AT ME
THAT WAS THE DAY I FELL IN LOVE

I FOLLOWED HIM THAT SUMMER DAY
DOWN GARDEN PATHS TO COURTS OF CLAY
WHERE FROM BEHIND A SHADED TREE
I WATCHED MY HERO PLAY

I COULD HAVE BEEN A BALLERINA
BUT CHOSE INSTEAD THAT SUNLIT SPORT
I LEARNED THE ART OF SERVE AND VOLLEY
AND THEN I STARRED AT CENTER COURT

I TOURED THE WORLD FOR EVERY MATCH
FROM DALLAS, ROME TO FAR BRISBANE
HOTEL ROOMS WERE MY PORT OF TRANSIT
TENNIS WAS MY ROAD TO FAME

AND LOVERS CAME AND LOVERS WENT
TWO WEEKS IN EVERY CITY SPENT
AND ALL THIS WHIRL OF TRAVEL MEANT
I NEVER SAW THAT BOY AGAIN

AND THEN THE YOUNGER STARS APPEARED
GIRLS WITH SPEED AND STRENGTH, I COULDN’T DEFEND
I CHOSE A DIFFERENT KIND OF SPEED
THAT BROUGHT ABOUT A VERY DIFFERENT END

I COULD HAVE DANCED IN SATIN SLIPPERS
ACROSS A STAGE OF BROADWAY LIGHTS
BUT I CHOSE GLORY IN ADIDAS
IN RIBBONED HAIR AND PRISTINE WHITES

I TOURED THE WORLD FOR EVERY MATCH
FROM DALLAS, ROME TO FAR BRISBANE
HOTEL ROOMS WERE MY PORT OF TRANSIT
TENNIS WAS MY ROAD TO FAME

I PLAYED THE GAME
MY NAME WAS ON A PRICEY RACQUET
IN STORES A DOZEN YEARS AGO
BUT THEN CAME VENUS AND SERENA
AND RUSSIAN GIRLS WHO TOOK THE GOLD

(STICK, STREET, PEARL)

BUT WE STILL HEAR THE SUNDAY CROWD
IN BACK OF EVERYTHING WE DO
HAUNTED BY ANOTHER VOICE:
THIS CHEER’S NO LONGER MEANT FOR YOU
THIS GAME’S NO LONGER MEANT FOR YOU.

 

HIS MOTHER’S IN HOSPICE

Mr. Ritzo, the once formidable sports agent, now a doddering old man with more health problems than a hospital ward.

HOPE
HIS MOTHER’S IN HOSPICE
AND TOOK A TURN FOR THE WORSE,
SO HE’S GOING TO DEAL WITH HER DISCOMFORT.. FIRST!
(blushes) I sing in the choir and small clubs, given the chance.

HOPE (cont’d)
I heard you guys singing when I was coming up the street.
(looks around) Does this place have a stage or some kind of thrust?

STICK
Excuse me, Miss…

HOPE
Flanagan. Hope Flanagan. I’m a Mick. What can I say?
(SINGS & STRUTS) MY PAPA IS A MICK; MOM’S A WOP CHICK.
I WAS FIFTEEN WHEN I TURNED MY FIRST TRICK!
…That’s from my debut CD.

STICK (throws up his hand, anxious)
Stop! Miss Flanagan, I have a question… Is she dying..?

HOPE
Who?

STICK
Mrs. Ritzo! Mr. Ritzo’s mother. I know he was very close to her. Is she dying?

HOPE
You mean “passing.” Dying is so bleak. We don’t have a clue where we’re going.
(SINGS and shimmies down)
IT’S JUST A BIG CRAPSHOOT IN AN OVERCAST SKY.
WHEN WE’RE GONNA DIE, WHERE WE’RE GONNA DIE.
LIFE’S GOTCHA ROLLIN’ SEVENS OR A PAIR OF SNAKE EYES…

PEARL
Miss Flanagan, dear, can you just tell us in sentences? Without the rhythm.

HOPE
Mr. Ritzo called a priest.

PEARL (gasps)
That’s last rites.

STICK
But he’s coming?

HOPE
Oh, definitely. The church is only three blocks from the convalescent home.

STICK
Not the priest! Mr. Ritzo.

HOPE
Yes. He’s just going to be a little later than he intended.

STREET
If the old lady dies, it’s going to be a lot later. Let’s hope she doesn’t die.

PEARL
Street, that’s a bit callous.

STREET
You hopin’ she does die?

PEARL
No. But you don’t want her to live for the wrong reasons.

STREET
The list of wrong reasons to stay alive has got to be pretty small.

PEARL
I’m just sayin’ it sound so…materialistic.

HOPE
WELL, EXCUSE ME, BUT THERE ARE SOME MATERIALISM INVOLVED.

IF MRS. RITZO DIES, MY BOSS AND MENTOR, MR. RITZO,
IS GOING TO INHERIT THIRTY-FIVE MILLION SMACKERS.
HIS SHIFTLESS, NE’RE-DO-WELL BROTHER, SIMONE RITZO, GETS PEANUTS.

STREET
Smackers got peanuts beat every time!

PEARL
Street, please. You’re call is coming, too.

HOPE
Not from Mr. Ritzo, I hope. His name isn’t on the calendar.

STICK
No, I’m waiting for that call.

PEARL
But what has Stick done?

HOPE
THE LAST FEW YEARS ARE A LITTLE THIN.

STICK
I DID COLOR COMMENTARY FOR THE TIGERS.

HOPE
TEN YEARS AGO.

STICK
WHAT ABOUT THE CALL-IN SPORTS SHOW, “BEAT THE STICK?”

HOPE
MORE SHTICK THAN STICK, in my opinion.
GRANTED, I’M NOT A SPORTS DIVA
ALTHOUGH I’VE BEEN IN AND OUT OF COURT
FOR WHAT JOHNS CALL, THE SIDEWALK SPORT IN MY TIME…

STICK
MISS FLANAGAN, THE RADIO SPOTS
FOR BIG BOY SPORTING GOODS,
WESTPORT GARAGE DOORS AND LIGHTHOUSE BEER.
THOSE DON’T COUNT?

HOPE
The sound is worse than a bowl of cereal.

STICK
But Mr. Ritzo knows my body of work.

HOPE
HE’S VERY, VERY FOND OF YOU AND ADEL,
THE WIFE WHO DIVORCED YOU
AFTER YOU PUT HER THROUGH FIVE YEARS OF HELL
AND YOUR CHILDREN WHO CONTINUE TO GROW
THAT’S SOMETHING I THOUGHT YOU SHOULD KNOW…
Well, I’ll be off. But maybe you should turn your cell phone on.

HOPE (leaving, stops again, remembers)
Oh, and Mr. Moran: Mr. Ritzo showed me the tape of the ball hitting your eye. It was a Yankee pitcher, wasn’t it?

STICK
Yes.

HOPE
I’ll never root for the Yankees again… even though your son is pitching for the Madison High School Yankees. Their big game was yesterday. Did you go?

STICK
No, I was on the bus. I was….

HOPE
YOU’VE BEEN A ‘NO SHOW’ MORE THAN ONCE
IN HIS YOUNG LIFE
THAT’S SOMETHING MORE I THOUGHT YOU SHOULD KNOW…

Hope EXITS. Pearl and Street turn to Stick

STICK (defending himself)
He’s a teenager. You know how embarrassed.. besides a kid always feels more pressure when his old man was an ex… (changes mood, excited) But I told you! Mr. Ritzo’s coming! And he’s probably going to be a multimillionaire by next week. And don’t worry, I’m not cutting you guys out. I’ll introduce you. Mr. Ritzo is one helluva guy. His mother is dying and he’s still making time for me!

STREET
UNLESS SHE KICKS.

STICK
SHE AIN’T GONNA KICK ON A SUNDAY
THREE BLOCKS FROM THE CHURCH
SHE CAN KICK ANY DAY OF THE WEEK
WHEN THE CHURCH IS CLOSER THAN MONDAY

PEARL
YOU NEVER TOLD US YOU WERE MARRIED AND HAD A SON.

STICK
LIKE MISS FLANAGAN SAID, I’M DIVORCED NOW
DONNIE IS FIFTEEN AND MY LITTLE GIRL, MELINDA, IS ELEVEN.

 

Contacts

KEN LUBER


+1 (951) 659-2203
ken@kenluber.com
www.kenluber.com
P.O. BOX 1938
IDYLLWILD, CA 92549 USA

Ken Luber is the lyricist and wrote the book for Esperanza.

He is a graduate Fellow from the AFI and has written and directed for television, film and theater. His feature film “Howzer” was shown at the US Film Festival and at the New American Director Series at the Whitney Museum in New York City.

He has published his first novel “Match to the Heart” and has just completed his second nove!, “The Sun Jumpers“.

Ken is a native or Wisconsin and now lives with his wife, Kathy, in Idyllwild, CA.

SAVERIO RAPEZZI


+1 (347) 687-1792
+39 (328) 864-1162
saverio@filmscoringlab.com
www.saveriorapezzi.it
www.filmscoringlab.com

Saverio Rapezzi is an Italian composer and orchestrator, founder of Film Scoring Lab, a music production company based in Los Angeles. Saverio has degrees in Composition and Classical Guitar and he has specialized in Film Music with renowned film composers such as Ennio Morricone, Luis Bacalov, Robert Drasnin, and received the Film Scoring Certificate of the University of California, Los Angeles (UCLA).

Recognized with the Award of Excellence at Best Shorts Competition 2015, he recently completed his third feature film score (“The System is broken“), and chose for scoring “El Paciente“, a film by Samuel Reyes. His first Opera, “Il mal di Dante” will premiere in Hungary in 2016.

His repertoire includes a wide range of compositions with unique personality and expressiveness, without limitations of genre and form.