The Curse of the Grebes/Transcript

#
''Three boys are standing on a roof overlooking the stadium. The ball falls into the gutter of the building and rolls down the drainpipe. A boy climbs down the ladder, runs around the house and catches the ball as it comes out of the pipe.''

The Kid: Got it! A richly dressed man is standing behind him. Mr. Crane: Ahem! I bet you're one of those urchins who sneaks into the park without paying! Give me that ball, you little thief!

The Kid: But, Mister, I chased it down fair and square.

Mr. Crane: My name is Horace P. Crane. I own the Grebes, I own the land you're standing on, and I own that ball. The boy spits on the ball before handing it to Crane.

The Kid: Then with this ball I curse your crummy team! You're never gonna win another chamionship!

#
Muffy has shown Francine her dad's “Go Grebes”-commercial.

Francine: That is so hypocritical! You and your dad have always been Kings fans. Muffy: Yeah, but now the Grebes have three wins. It's much more fun to be on the winning side

Francine: Anyone can root for a winning team. It takes character to stick with the underdogs.

#
In Buster's fantasy, everybody blames him for bringing bad luck.

Brain: You've done enough damage! Buster: What are you doing here?? You don't even believe in the curse.

Brain: Of course not. But according to the quantum theory, the outcome of any experiment is partly determined by the presence of a particular observer.

Buster: What does that have to do with baseball?

Brain: Your very presence in the stands has a negative effect on the physics of baseball for the Grebes.

Playmon: In other words: you're the curse.

Buster: Nooo!

#
While picking out a milk carton Buster notices Grebes player Playmon standing beside him.

Buster: Oh! Playmon?

Playmon: Hey, kid.

Buster: Wow! This is...! I'm a big fan.

Playmon: Nice to meet you.

Buster: Would you sign my milk carton?

Playmon: Sure. What's your name?

Buster: Buster Baxter. Winlin and Batería join Playmon.

Winlin: Hey, Playmon, there's a special on apples.

Buster: Winlin?! Batería! You guys buy groceries too?

Playmon: This is Buster. How about signing this for him? He hands the carton to Winlin.

Winlin: We really appreciate your support. We couldn't do it without fans like you.

Batería: You going to the big game?

Buster: Yes. I mean no. Trust me, you don't want me there.

Batería: Why not?

Buster: You know how you lost games two, five and six? It was my fault.

Winlin: Guess we're off the hook.

Buster: No, it's true. When I'm in the stands, you lose. When I'm not, you win. It's the curse. I bring the curse. ''He walks away. The three players follow him.''

Batería: No es verdad. It's not true.

Playmon: The curse is you not showing up for the game because you're afraid we lose.

Winlin: The curse is you thinking that we don't need you in the stands tomorrow because the fact is we do. Ever hear of Dickinson?

Buster: Shortstop?

Winlin: Poet. Lived in New England. Wrote a poem that goes like this. “Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul / and sings the tune without the words and never stops at all.“

Playmon: Do you see what we're trying to say?

Buster: Not really.

Winlin: Tomorrow at the big game, hope is a green-tailed grebe. If we're gonna win...

Playmon: ...then we need all the fan support we can get.

Batería: We need you, Buster, curse or no curse.

Winlin: Yeah, Buster, we need you.