Roy Hobbs:
Red, it took me sixteen years to get here. You play me, and I'll give ya the best I got.
Red Blow:
I believe ya.
Pop Fisher:
C'mon Hobbs, knock the cover off the ball!
Roy Hobbs:
I coulda been better. I coulda broke every record in the book.
Iris Gaines:
And then?
Roy Hobbs:
And then? And then when I walked down the street people would've looked and they would've said there goes Roy Hobbs, the best there ever was in this game.
Pop Fisher:
Batting practice tomorrow, be there!
Roy Hobbs:
I have been. Every day.
Roy Hobbs:
I guess some mistakes you never stop paying for.
Roy Hobbs:
My life didn't turn out the way I expected.
Pop Fisher:
You know my mama wanted me to be a farmer.
Roy Hobbs:
My dad wanted me to be a baseball player.
Pop Fisher:
Well you're better than any player I ever had. And you're the best God damn hitter I ever saw. Suit up.
Iris Gaines:
You know, I believe we have two lives.
Roy Hobbs:
How... what do you mean?
Iris Gaines:
The life we learn with and the life we live with after that.
The Judge:
I thought I could rely on your honor!
Max Mercy:
You read my mind.
Roy Hobbs:
That takes all of three seconds.
Gus Sands:
If it isn't enough, tell us what you had in mind.
Roy Hobbs:
To hit away.
Roy Hobbs:
Pick me out a winner Bobby.
Pop Fisher:
I shoulda been a farmer.
Pop Fisher:
People don't start playing ball at your age, they retire!
Roy Hobbs:
The only thing I know about the dark is you can't see in it.
Bartholomew 'Bump' Bailey:
[
after failing to catch a fly ball] I lost it in the sun.
Pop Fisher:
[
looks up at the cloudy sky] Blinding.
Pop Fisher:
[
to his "best" pitcher who can't throw a strike] Come on, Fowler! Throw strikes!
Red Blow:
Fowler's killing worms, Pop.
Pop Fisher:
My ma urged me to get out of this game. When I was a kid, she pleaded with me. And I meant to, you know what I mean? But she died.
Red Blow:
Tough.
Pop Fisher:
Now look at me. I'm wet nurse to a last-place, dead-to-the-neck-up ball club, and I'm choking to death!
Red Blow:
Pretty good food, huh?
Roy Hobbs:
Damn good.
Red Blow:
You can't spell it, but it eats pretty good, don't it?
Pop Fisher:
Hobbs. I'm sending you down Hobbs, Class B ball. Tomorrow you go to the Great Lakes Assocaition.
Roy Hobbs:
All right. You make the rules.
Pop Fisher:
That's right, that's right and you ain't been playing by 'em. Don't you remember signing a contract!
Roy Hobbs:
I remember signing a contract, to play ball not to be put to sleep by some two bit carney hypnotist! I won't do that Pop! I can't.
Ed Hobbs:
You've got a gift Roy... but it's not enough - you've got to develop yourself. If you rely too much on your own gift... then... you'll fail.
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