BRANCH Jan 2021 Revision.Fdx
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BRANCH Written by Steven D Corder Based On The Book BRANCH RICKEY By Murray Polner Revised January 31, 2021 From 2015 Script 3828 Villanova St Dallas, Texas 75225 (214) 207-0306 [email protected] BRANCH We hear labored breathing and the rustling of fabric. FADE IN: INT. BEDROOM - DAY CLOSE ON old trembling hands trying unsuccessfully to tie a bow tie. OLDER BRANCH (O.C.) Judas Priest! SUPER: “ST. LOUIS, NOVEMBER, 1965” PULL OUT to reveal a pale, tired and ill, OLDER BRANCH RICKEY, 83, dressed in a suit and fiddling with his sloppy bow tie while looking in the mirror. He gives up, frustrated, he shouts. OLDER BRANCH (CONT'D) Mother? Mother! OLDER JANE RICKEY, 83, walks into the room. She is dressed elegantly, wearing a strand of pearls and glistening red stone encrusted clip-on earrings. She is tender and calm. OLDER BRANCH (CONT'D) I can’t tie this blasted thing! She ties his bow tie, then looks up at him, gently pats his cheek. OLDER JANE Branch, you know we shouldn’t be going. You shouldn’t have left the hospital. She wipes away a tear from her eye then adjusts his suit’s lapel. OLDER JANE (CONT'D) You should be resting. I have no doubt that the Missouri Hall of Fame could celebrate you at another time. Branch smiles, wraps his arms around her and takes a deep breath. 2. OLDER BRANCH Death comes to us all, but I’m not going to sit around and wait for it. Besides, I’d rather die ten minutes sooner than live doing nothing. OLDER JANE I know. He gives her a kiss on the cheek. She steps back, nods and smiles. OLDER JANE (CONT'D) Well, Archie’s waiting. INT. CAR - MOMENTS LATER ARCHIBALD CAREY, 57, a black man, grips the stirring wheel, glances over his shoulder at Branch and Jane. ARCHIBALD CAREY Ready? OLDER BRANCH Oh, Arch, I still can’t believe you came all this way from Chicago. ARCHIBALD CAREY It’ll be like old times, Mr. Rickey. OLDER BRANCH Well, you ready for one last adventure? Jane snaps a disapproving glance as Carey smiles and winks. OLDER BRANCH (CONT'D) Step on it, Arch! INT. CAR - MOVING - LATER SAME DAY Branch stares out the window at the rapidly passing countryside while Jane keeps her eye on Branch. His eyes slowly close to the sound of the car’s soothing rhythm. FADE TO BLACK: OVER BLACK We hear the sounds of a baseball POPPING a leather glove followed by another POP, then the CRACKING sound of a bat striking a baseball. Players CHATTER. 3. EXT. BASEBALL FIELD - DAY SUPER: “OHIO WESLEYAN UNIVERSITY, 1904” Standing at home plate, BRANCH, 22, holds a baseball bat in one hand. He puts his other hand to his mouth and WHISTLES. BRANCH GET TWO! The CATCHER tosses a ball to Branch. Branch bats it to the THIRD BASEMAN, who executes a flawless 6-4-3 double play. BRANCH (CONT'D) Everybody in! Hustle! Hustle! A TEAM of eleven players and a student assistant, BARNEY RUSSELL, 20, gather around Branch. Towering above all the players is CHARLES THOMAS, 18, the only black player. BRANCH (CONT'D) Everyone ready for Notre Dame? Good. The train leaves tomorrow afternoon at four thirty. Have your bags on the platform at four. Okay, take it in. See you tomorrow. Branch places baseballs and bats into a canvas bag held open by Barney. All the players walk away, except Charles. BRANCH (CONT'D) Something on your mind, Charles? CHARLES THOMAS Yes, sir, um... Barney closes the bag and walks away. CHARLES THOMAS (CONT'D) (lowering his voice) Coach, you sure you want me to go to South Bend with the team? Perplexed, Branch stares at Charles for a moment. Then he turns an walks off the field. Charles hesitates then catches up to Branch. They walk shoulder to shoulder. CHARLES THOMAS (CONT'D) I was thinking, you know, after what happened at Kentucky, that you might not want all that trouble again. 4. BRANCH Charles. CHARLES THOMAS Yes sir? BRANCH Make sure your bag is on the platform tomorrow. Branch walks away. Charles stays, watches, then smiles. EXT. TRAIN DEPOT - NIGHT SUPER: “SOUTH BEND, INDIANA” PASSENGERS exit the train. A horse-drawn wagon, with a sign “Oliver Hotel”, waits nearby as Branch and Barney Russell step off the train followed by the team and Charles Thomas. BRANCH (to Barney) Have the boys put their bags in the Oliver wagon. We’ll walk. INT. HOTEL LOBBY - NIGHT Branch leads Barney Russell, Charles Thomas and the team into the lobby as smartly dressed GUESTS come and go. Branch motions to Barney to wait with the team as he approaches a short, overweight DESK CLERK, 40s. DESK CLERK Yes, sir. BRANCH Branch Rickey, coach of the Ohio Wesleyan baseball team. DESK CLERK Yes, sir. We’ve been expecting you. BRANCH You have us for six rooms? DESK CLERK Sure do. The clerk hands the keys to Branch, glances up and over Branch’s shoulder and sees Charles and his teammates. The clerk leans forward. 5. DESK CLERK (CONT'D) Mister, is that colored boy over there with you? Branch turns to look at his team then looks back at the clerk. Shrugs his shoulders. BRANCH Yeah. DESK CLERK We don’t allow colored folks here. BRANCH He’s a member of my team. DESK CLERK I don’t care. We don’t allow his kind in here. BRANCH “His kind?” I’m not sure what “his kind” is. DESK CLERK You’re welcome to stay, but not the colored boy. BRANCH Just where do you suggest he stay? On the street? The desk clerk leans forward, points his index finger at Branch. DESK CLERK I don’t care! Take him down to the colored part of town, or the Y.M.C.A. But we don’t register niggers. The door directly behind the reception desk opens. The HOTEL MANAGER, male, 50s, steps out and surveys the scene just as Branch, teeth clenched, leans into the clerk’s finger. BRANCH You better put that finger some where else. ON CHARLES, nervous, eyes dart left and right. He moves through the team to Barney. 6. CHARLES THOMAS Barney, tell Coach I...I can just go back to school. Really. BARNEY RUSSELL It’ll be alright. Just stay here. CHARLES THOMAS Please, Barney. Just let me go back to school. This isn’t worth it. BARNEY RUSSELL No. Now just calm down. Coach will handle this. ON THE RECEPTION DESK The manager scans the lobby. HOTEL MANAGER What seems to be your problem? BRANCH My problem? It’s not me who has the problem. DESK CLERK He wants to register the colored boy over there. Branch slides his hand into his coat pocket and takes out an envelope full of cash. BRANCH So, what’s it going to be? HOTEL MANAGER Ah. Why don’t we step into my office. INT. HOTEL HALLWAY - MOMENTS LATER Branch and Barney Russell lead Charles Thomas and the team down a hallway, stopping at each room. The desk clerk, 15 feet behind them, carries a folding cot. His teeth are clenched in anger. INT. HOTEL ROOM - MOMENTS LATER Branch stands at the open door, watches the clerk set-up the cot. He leaves. Charles walks to the cot and sits. 7. BRANCH Barney, forget about finding a place for Charles. He’s staying with us both nights. Now, about tomorrow morning? BARNEY RUSSELL Team breakfast at eight. Leave hotel at nine and walk to the campus. About thirty minutes. BRANCH That should give us enough time for... Branch’s voice trails off as he sees-- Charles, head bowed, elbows resting on his thighs, tears fall to the floor. His shoulders heave as he rubs one hand over the other. CHARLES THOMAS Black skin. Black skin. If only I could make ‘em white. Charles raises his head and stares at Branch. CHARLES THOMAS (CONT'D) If only I could make ‘em white. FADE TO BLACK: WE HEAR the rhythmic tones of a car. INT. CAR - PRESENT DAY Older Branch stares out his window. Older Jane sees a tear roll down his cheek. She touches his hand. OLDER JANE Branch. Dear? What’s wrong? OLDER BRANCH It’s been over sixty years. It haunts me still, as if only yesterday. OLDER JANE The Oliver Hotel. He takes a deep breath and exhales very slowly as his eyes gaze at the passing countryside. WE HEAR the sound of a Ford Model T on a city street. 8. INT/EXT. CAB OF A MODEL T - RESIDENTIAL STREET - DAY Branch, now 39, drives down a residential street. He smiles looking at the large Victorian homes. He passes WHITE CHILDREN playing baseball. INT/EXT. CAB OF A MODEL T - INDUSTRIAL STREET - MOMENTS LATER Branch’s car turns a corner. Suddenly a BLACK BOY, 10, appears chasing a coverless baseball rolling toward the car. Branch SLAMS on the breaks, barely avoiding the boy. The boy gabs the ball, looks up, smiles. Branch smiles back. The boy turns and races back to a street- ball game. He places both arms over the steering wheel and leans forward, eyes fixed on the game in front of him. The boy takes up a sawed-off broom handle. ANOTHER BOY chucks the coverless ball. The boy swings, strikes the ball and sends it over the car. RESUME CAB OF THE MODEL T Branch’s eyes stay focused on the boy as-- The boy circles the make-shift street diamond.