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Jeremy Grey (Vince Vaughn): [shaking his head] Unbelievable, John. October 22, 1919, and the Philadelphia Phillies just stole one in Cincinnati. Extra innings. It’s like crashing a wedding where the best man passes out before the toast — you didn’t see it coming, but you’re thrilled it happened.
John Beckwith (Owen Wilson): Yeah, totally. I mean, Colin Yovanovich — the guy goes seven innings, two hits, just mowing dudes down like…like…uh—
Jeremy: Like Chazz Reinhold at a funeral buffet. Meatballs everywhere, no survivors.
John: [laughs] Exactly. And then Porch, the catcher — Porch! What a name. He goes deep early, puts Philly on the board. That’s like slipping into the cake line before the bride and groom even get their first piece. Total power move.
Jeremy: Oh, and then in the 11th inning — Michael Ray comes in, doubles, knocks in the winning run. That’s like finding the bridesmaid crying in the coatroom, swooping in with a handkerchief, and suddenly you’re slow dancing to “Shout” two hours later.
John: And the Reds? Man, they had a shot. They had Castaneda launch a two-run bomb to tie it in the 7th. That place was rocking, cigars in the stands, dudes with handlebar mustaches yelling “Hurrah!” But then — nothing. Just…nothing.
Jeremy: Because here’s the thing, John. The Reds looked like that one guy at the reception who thinks he’s killing it on the dance floor, but really he’s just stomping his feet off-beat and spilling champagne on grandma.
John: [nodding seriously] Total disaster.
Jeremy: Phillies now up 2-0 in the series. They go back to Philly. Citizens Bank Park. The city of brotherly love. Cheese steaks, Rocky Balboa, bell towers. You know they’re feeling good.
John: I love it. I love playoff baseball. It’s weddings, John, but with stats. You got romance, heartbreak, big moments. Only difference is instead of a garter toss, you get Branscome striking out five times in one game.
Jeremy: [grinning] Strikeout record in extras. That’s not a stat you want on your registry, buddy.
John: Registry joke! I love it.
Jeremy: You motorboatin’ son of a gun, Phillies are rolling. Reds gotta figure it out, or this series is over.
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