JACK’S APARTMENT, CHICAGO, IL – DAY (SOMETIME NEXT WEEK)

A small apartment. It is sparsely furnished and all decoration is of the Chicago Cubs: posters, pennants, photos, and autographed memorabilia. Jack (age 30), sporting a #23 Ryne Sandberg jersey, watches the local sports report intently. There’s a knock at the door.

JACK: It’s open.

In walks Jimmy, his older brother by two years. He carries a shopping bag.

JIMMY: Hey Jack.

Jack’s face lights up.

JACK: Jimmy! Oh man, what’s up bro?

Jack jumps up and hugs Jimmy, who forces a smile.

JACK: Great to see you man. You want a beer?

JIMMY: No, I can’t stay long. I just…

JACK: Hey, did the twins like their birthday presents?

Jimmy averts his eyes as he hands the bag over to his brother. Jack pulls out the matching two-year old size Cubs jerseys.

JACK: Oh. Too small, I guess?

JIMMY: Yeah.

JACK: Hey, uh, I’ve got an extra ticket for Opening Day.

JIMMY: You know I can’t.

JACK: Why? It’s not like you have to work. The whole city’s shut down for the day.

JIMMY: I’m doing something with Maggie and the twins.

JACK: Bring them along. I bet I can get…

JIMMY: Sorry. We’re just not interested.

JACK: But this is our year. The Cubbies are going to win it all.

Jimmy snorts a laugh and shakes his head as he turns to the door.

JIMMY: I gotta go Jack.

JACK: You believe that don’t you? I mean, deep down, I know you still…

JIMMY: No Jack. I don’t.

JACK: How can you say that?

JIMMY: How can I say it? How about a century long drought? It hasn’t been “our year” since Teddy Roosevelt was in the White House.

JACK: So.

JIMMY: So, why should this year be any different?

JACK: Because it will. I just know it will. Can’t you feel it?

JIMMY: Listen to yourself. Look at yourself. Look at this place. You’re living in a fantasy world.

JACK: You used to love the Cubs every bit as much as me.

JIMMY: Yeah, when I was twelve. But then I grew up. And went to college. And got a job.

JACK: So did I.

JIMMY: See, that’s what I really don’t get. You should know better. You’re a smart guy.

JACK: Oh, gee, thanks for the validation. You are such a condescending…

JIMMY: What? I was giving you a compliment.

JACK: Okay, you need a sign? What about us hiring Piniella? That guy’s a proven winner. And Soriano. He hit 46 homers last year playing in the biggest ballpark on the planet. And D-Lee’s healthy and…

JIMMY: Don’t you get it? All that stuff just doesn’t matter. No matter who’s wearing the uniform, that team will always lose.

JACK: Oh, come on Mr. Fact and Logic. Are you telling me you just KNOW this isn’t our year?

JIMMY: Alright bro. Fine. Here’s the deal. Piniella’s washed up. This guy’s supposed to be the fiery, tough guy leader and I saw him balling his eyes out on Bryant Gumble last month. It was pathetic.

JACK: So.

JIMMY: Soriano is an overrated Fantasy League player. When the playoffs rolled around in New York, he folded faster than the Employee of the Month at Banana Republic. And D-Lee had one fluke year that…

JACK: You take that back right now!

JIMMY: Or what? Some demon billy goat is gonna shove his white hot horns u…?

JACK: Why do you get such a thrill out of putting the Cubbies down?

JIMMY: I don’t. I’m just sick of you and all the other crazies yappin’ about how great they are all the time.

JACK: But rooting for the Cubs is so special. We just want to spread the joy.

JIMMY: Yeah, right. You spread more than joy.

Jimmy glares at Jack. Jack drops his head.

JACK: I’ve told you. I’m sorry about your wedding.

JIMMY: Your best man toast was a rambling tirade about Steve Bartman.

JACK: I know, but it was only six months after it happened, and I thought it was on everyone’s minds anyway and…

JIMMY: You ruined the biggest day of mine and Maggie’s life.

JACK: I know, but in my defense…

JIMMY: Stop. Listen to yourself. Get your priorities straight dude! You’ve never even seen your nephews.

JACK: I’ve tried to.

JIMMY: We’re afraid to let you near them.

JACK: Come on Jimmy.

JIMMY: Who knows what kind of nonsense you’ll try to fill their heads with…

JACK: Please stop Jimmy.

JIMMY: And quit calling me Jimmy. It’s James.

JACK: Dad called you Jimmy.

JIMMY: That was a long time ago.

JACK: Remember why? For Jimmy Sheckard – one of the greats from the last World Championship squad of 1908.

JIMMY: Yeah, Dad loved his Cubs. Went to every Opening Day for nearly 40 years…Lotta good it did him.

JACK: Remember when we got old enough to tag along? Did you ever see him happier?

Jimmy can’t suppress a smile.

JACK: Now, he was a true believer.

Jimmy’s smile fades.

JIMMY: Until his heart got broken with every Fall. Tell me that was fair.

JACK: Yeah, but he was back the next Spring. And more excited than ever.

Jimmy shakes his head.

JIMMY: Jimmy Sheckard. No one today even knows who he is.

JACK: But they should. He won a homerun title.

JIMMY: Sure, in the dead ball era. He hit a whopping nine of them.

JACK: He led the league in sacrifices a couple times.

JIMMY: Yeah, the old man sure loved rattlin’ off the stats for us. He had a million of ‘em.

JACK: He never told me that one. You did.

They fall silent. Jimmy takes a deep breath.

JIMMY: Hey, you know what? Maybe I can make that game.

JACK: Really? So you really do believe that…?

JIMMY: I don’t know. But it’s supposed to be a beautiful day.

JACK: Yeah, I hope so.

Jimmy heads for the door, but doubles back for the shopping bag of jerseys.

JIMMY: I’ll see you Sunday.

JACK: The Opener is on Monday.

JIMMY: Oh, right. I’ll meet you at Wrigley on Monday.