Homer At The Bat

D'oh!

Mmm, doughnuts.

Don't tell me how to eat doughnuts.

That's for the hiccups.

Last year we were 2 and 28. It wasn't our best season. Actually, it was.

Hmm.

What's that? A homemade bat? It's something very special-- a homemade bat.

Sheltering myself with a large piece of sheet metal... I ran for cover under the tallest tree I could find.

I put my homemade football on hold

Homie, come to bed. Homer, go back to the garage.

We play 30 games, 10 at bats a game-- 3,000.

You can't leave first until you chug a beer. Any man scoring has to chug a beer. Chug a beer at the top of all odd-numbered innings. And the fourth inning is the beer inning.

Hey, we know how to play softball.

And there he goes off in that direction. And everyone is happy.

Yeah, I got a magic bat too. And I got an enchanted jockstrap.

Ha-ha! Cops can't win!

I got my magic bat off a piano. My sister let me use her wooden leg.

I got my magic bat off a piano. - My sister let me use her wooden leg.

The Gladiators from my power plant will crush your team like nine flabby grapes.

Why don't we make it interesting? What, a million dollars isn't interesting?

No, sir. Who would you like killed?

Honus Wagner, Cap Anson... Mordecai Brown-- Uh, sir... I'm afraid all those players have retired... and, uh, passed on. In fact, your right fielder has been dead for 130 years.

Damnation!

the American League, the National League... the Negro leagues.

It's a pay cut, but what the hey.

Hey, sorry. I thought you were a deer.

It's okay... but sometimes I wish I had something more blue collar... with big machines and cool dials and stuff... like an oil refinery... or hydroelectric plant.

One more outburst, and I'll send you back to the big leagues.

Well, I've never met you, but... yes.

Now that you're older, I can tell you that's a crock. No matter how good you are... there's always a million people better. Gotcha-- Can't win, don't try.

Gotcha-- Can't win, don't try.

Homer Simpson, sir.

It's like there's a party in my mouth... and everyone's invited.

That's impossible. No one can give more than 100%. By definition, that is the most anyone can give.

There's no 'I' in 'team.' Some of these guys have a bad attitude, Skip. They sure do, Strawberry.

Mattingly, get rid of those sideburns. What sideburns? You heard me, hippie.

You sure did. I did? Whoo-hoo! In your face, Strawberry.

unless, of course, my nine all-stars... fall victim to nine separate misfortunes... and are unable to play tomorrow. But that will never happen.

Well, well. Steve Sax from New York City. I heard some guy got killed in New York... and they never solved the case. But you wouldn't know anything about that... now, would you, Steve?

But there's hundreds of unsolved murders... in New York City. You don't know when to keep your mouth shut... do you, Saxy boy?

Can't... lift... arm... or... speak... at... normal... rate.

No. By tomorrow... you'll barely be able to breathe. Oh... man.

Good Lord! Gigantism!

Good Lord! Gigantism!

My player piano! - Oh, man.

Oh, man.

England's greatest prime minister... was Lord Palmerston! Pitt, the Elder!

You watch too many movies, Sax.

Wow! One, please.

We've seen it, Dad.

For the last time, get rid of those sideburns. I don't know what you think sideburns are, but-- Don't argue with me! Just get rid of them!

That damn hypnotist! My starting pitcher thinks he's a chicken.

I'm going to report this... to the American Hypnotical Association.

Mattingly! I told you to trim those sideburns. Go home! You're off the team! For good!

I still like him better than Steinbrenner.

Mom, they're professional athletes. They're used to this. It rolls right off their backs.

Children, tell me... when your father stops scratching himself.

Mmm... potato chips.

No, Mom. It counts as a hit. Dad just won the game.

Mike Scioscia's tragic illness made us smile