| Movie |
Major League: Back to the Minors |
| Year |
1998 |
 |
[Gus Cantrell is gaining consciousness after being knocked out with the ball.]
Gus Cantrell:
God?
Pedro Cerrano:
No.
Gus Cantrell:
Moses?
Pedro Cerrano:
No, but you're getting warm.
Gus Cantrell:
Cerrano.
Pedro Cerrano:
[chuckles] Hello, Gus.
Gus Cantrell:
[laughs, then grabs the back of his head in pain] Oh, Jesus Christ.
Pedro Cerrano:
Be careful, now.
Gus Cantrell:
You scared me to death!
Pedro Cerrano:
Do you mean when you realized God is black?
Gus Cantrell:
Yeah...I thought She was white.
Pedro Cerrano:
[laughs]
Gus Cantrell:
I must've been out a long time if it's Halloween already.
Pedro Cerrano:
What's your point?
|
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Hog Ellis:
Hold it right there! This here is a hundred mile hour fast ball. One of the best pitches known to man today. If it were to hit you, it would've knocked your head clean off. I can always miss, but I've been playing pretty good today, so you gotta ask yourself one question.
Carlos Liston:
Do I feel lucky?
Hog Ellis:
Well, do you Carlos?
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Carlos Liston:
Thou shalt not make fun of Carlos Liston or thou will get their asses whipped.
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Doc:
Skip, can I talk to you?
Gus Cantrell:
Sure, whats up Doc?
|
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Harry Doyle:
And here's Cerrano, returning to baseball after taking some time off to search for... whatever the hell it was he lost. Maybe his mind!
|
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Gus Cantrell:
God... if You can hear me, *please*... send me *one* real baseball player. That's all I ask. And if you can't grant me that then... well... you might as well just strike me dead right here and now.
[he gets hit with the baseball]
|
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Taka Tanaka:
Family bicker. Customers complain. Everyone blames Taka. Have no... peace of brain.
|
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Gus Cantrell:
[looks ahead after reading the newspaper on the bus] Oh, my... Cerrano?
Pedro Cerrano:
Yo?
Gus Cantrell:
Cerrano!
Pedro Cerrano:
[approaches Gus] Si, Gus, what?
Gus Cantrell:
[points at sign ahead] Is that who I think it is?
Pedro Cerrano:
[the sign is for Taka's Putt-Putt] Jesus Christo. Tanaka!
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[after accidentally-on-purpose spilling a soft drink on the Minnesota announcer]
Harry Doyle:
Oh, I'm so sorry. Here, here's a twenty. Go get yourself another suit.
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