LOVE AND BASKETBALL
LOVE AND BASKETBALL
BY
GINA PRINCE-BYTHEWOOD
OPENING TITLES
SLOW MOTION. STYLIZED. TIGHT.
The silhouette of a man and woman. They are on a blacktop
basketball court, playing a sexually-charged game of one-one-
one.
Sweat glistens. Hands pull at clothes. Hips bump and
collide. Eyes lock...
FADE TO:
BLACK.
FADE IN:
TITLE CARD: "FIRST QUARTER" then "1981"
BALDWIN HILLS
EXT. MCCALL HOUSE - LATE MORNING
An upper middle-class neighborhood, known as the Black
Beverly Hills. Big houses, green grass and Caddies in every
other driveway. The street is quiet, until --
YOUNG VOICE (O.S.)
You wanna be Kareem?
CAMERA REVEALS: QUINCY MCCALL, eleven years old, dribbling a
basketball in front of KELVIN and JAMAL, also eleven. He
sports a fro, a "Clippers" jersey, and a serious swagger.
QUINCY (CONT'D)
All his big butt do is stand by the
basket.
JAMAL
Shoot, I'll be blocking your stuff.
KELVIN
I'm gonna be like Dr. J.
QUINCY
I'ma be like my Dad.
JAMAL
He ain't a star or nothing.
QUINCY
I don't see none of your sorry daddies in
the NBA.
KELVIN
Hey, look, Q.
Quincy follows Kelvin's eyes, to a beat-up pair of Converse
All-Stars approaching from next door. Walking in the kicks
is a YOUNG KID in a T-shirt and Tuff-skins, and a LAKERS cap
pulled low. A moving van is parked in the driveway.
KELVIN (cont'd)
Thought only girls were moving in.
QUINCY
That's what my Moms said.
KELVIN
I hope he can ball.
JAMAL
Bet he's a scrub.
The Kid stops at the edge of Quincy's driveway.
KID
Hey.
QUINCY
Hey.
KID
Can I play?
QUINCY
You nice?
KID
Yeah, I'm nice.
Quincy looks the Kid up and down, then --
QUINCY
You and Kelvin gainst me and Jamal.
Quincy tosses the Kid the ball. The Kid pulls off the
baseball cap. Brown hair tumbles down, framing a soft brown
face and bright eyes. She is MONICA WRIGHT, eleven years
old.
JAMAL
Ah man, he is a girl.
QUINCY
Girls can't play no ball.
MONICA
Ball better than you.
Quincy laughs derisively as Monica walks to the top of the
driveway.
QUINCY
(whispering)
What a dog.
Monica shoots him a glare.
JAMAL
She heard you.
QUINCY
Nuh uh, they could only hear dog
whistles.
Monica starts to dribble. Jamal whistles as he walks
backwards, guarding her. She throws up a shot. IT'S AN
AIRBALL. Quincy and Jamal crack up. Kelvin rolls his eyes.
Quincy grabs the rebound and shoots. Swish.
QUINCY (cont'd)
One, zip.
He rolls the ball to Monica. She starts dribbling and again,
Jamal just backs up with her. She passes to Kelvin. Jamal
and Quincy collapse on him, leaving Monica open under the
basket. Trapped Kelvin has no choice but to pass it back.
Monica catches the ball and throws up a shot. It banks off
the backboard...AND DROPS THROUGH THE NET. The boys look at
her in shock. Monica tosses the ball back to Quincy.
MONICA
One, up.
QUINCY
Lucky.
Quincy easily dribbles by Kelvin and lays up the ball. He
throws the ball back to Monica.
QUINCY (cont'd)
Two, one.
Monica dribbles. Jamal plays her a little tighter. Monica
bounces the ball through his open legs and lays up the ball.
MONICA
Two, up.
Quincy can't believe it. Kelvin cracks up.
KELVIN
Aaah, she dogged you.
JAMAL
Shut up.
The game continues, with Quincy and Monica trading baskets
for their teams. Quincy grows agitated with Jamal, who is
unable to stop her. The score hits nine, nine.
Quincy stands at the top of the driveway, ball in hand.
QUINCY
Point.
Quincy dribbles through his legs, then pops an outside shot.
The ball bounces on the rim...and rolls off.
Quincy curses as Monica grabs the rebound and clears the
ball. Jamal moves to guard her, but Quincy shoves him off.
QUINCY (cont'd)
I got her.
Quincy defends. Monica smiles back at him.
MONICA
Told you I was nice. I'm going to be
the first girl in the NBA.
QUINCY
I'ma be in the NBA. You're gonna be my
cheerleader.
Monica suddenly passes to Kelvin, sprints for the basket.
Quincy stumbles, giving her a step. Kelvin throws it back.
Quincy knows he's beat as Monica goes for the winning lay-up.
In desperation, he swings at her for the hard foul, shoving
her off balance.
THE BALL FLIES FROM HER HAND AS SHE CRASHES TO THE GROUND,
FACE-FIRST. SHE GRABS HER CHEEK. BLOOD SLIPS THROUGH HER
FINGERS.
The boys stand frozen. Quincy stares down at her, his eyes
wide with fear...and regret.
INT. WRIGHT HOUSE - BATHROOM - LATE MORNING
Monica leans over the sink as her mother, CAMILLE, 36, wipes
the blood from her face with a washcloth.
GIRL'S VOICE (O.S.)
Eeew.
Her sister, LENA, 14, leans in the doorway, making a face.
She is a mirror of their mother, with relaxed hair and
painted nails.
Her father, NATHAN, 39, moves behind Lena, holding a box.
NATHAN
How are you feeling, munchkin?
Monica nods. He smiles.
NATHAN (cont'd)
Yeah, you're through.
CAMILLE
She needs to stop running around like a
little boy.
NATHAN
She's alright.
CAMILLE
How is she alright looking the way she
does?
NATHAN
Camille, she'll be fine.
He gives Monica a wink, crosses away. Monica pulls the
washcloth away from her Mom and starts wiping the blood
herself.
CAMILLE
I'll get some ice.
She exits. Lena shakes her head, follows.
Monica pulls the washcloth from her face and stares into the
mirror. TORN SKIN SURROUNDS A SMALL DEEP GASH IN HER CHEEK.
Seeing her latest battle scar, there's only one thing left
for this little girl to do. She smiles.
INT. MCCALL HOUSE - KITCHEN - DAY
Quincy sits at the kitchen table, writing "I AM SORRY" in
block letters across a homemade card. His face is tight with
concentration as he tries to write in a straight line.
At the counter, his mom, NONA, moves a cake from its store
box to a cake dish. She is 30, beautiful, with effort. She
smooths the frosting with a spoon.
ZEKE, 32, with the height and ego of an NBA ballplayer,
enters. He laughs.
ZEKE
Girl, who you trying to fool?
Quincy looks up, smiles. He quickly grabs a piece of
crumpled paper, and tosses it to Zeke.
QUINCY
Alley-oop, Dad.
Nona intercepts his pass.
NONA
Boy...
She points him back to his card. Quincy scowls, starts
writing again. Nona scoops some frosting on her finger,
holds it up.
NONA (cont'd)
New neighbors.
Zeke wraps his lips around her finger, sucks the frosting
off.
ZEKE
See, Quincy, this is how your Moms caught
me, with the old fake and bake. Had me
thinking I was getting a sister who could
burn.
Nona laughs, pulls him down for a kiss. Quincy suddenly
throws down his pencil in frustration.
QUINCY
I can't do this shit.
Zeke and Nona pull away, stare at Quincy in shock.
ZEKE
Boy, what'd I tell you about using that
word?
QUINCY
(sighs, then)
"Can't" should never be in a man's
vocabulary.
ZEKE
Why not?
QUINCY
Cause when you say can't, you ain't a
man.
ZEKE
That's right.
NONA
Zeke.
ZEKE
What?
(then)
Oh, and, uh, don't say "shit."
Nona just shakes her head.
NONA
We should head over.
ZEKE
Just you and Quincy, baby. I got a
meeting.
NONA
With who?
ZEKE
Business folks.
NONA
You just got back from a four game road
trip.
ZEKE
Nona, don't start bitching. I got maybe
two years left to play. I'm just trying
to put some things together for us.
Zeke grabs his keys.
ZEKE (cont'd)
Later, Quincy.
QUINCY
Later, Dad.
Zeke exits. Nona leans against the counter, concerned.
QUINCY (cont'd)
Mom?
NONA
What?
QUINCY
We still have to go?
NONA
(beat)
Yeah.
INT. WRIGHT HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - DAY
Camille and Nona stand among the piles of boxes. Monica and
Quincy stand at their mothers' sides, stealing glances at
each other. A large bandage covers Monica's cheek. Monica
holds her card, Camille holds the cake.
NONA
...we moved back here when Quincy was
about five, after Zeke was traded.
Neighborhood was a little more mixed
back then...
CAMILLE
Until the Black family down the street
became the Black family next door.
NONA
(nods)
Okay?
Camille tries to smooth down Monica's unruly hair. Monica
moves her head.
CAMILLE
Well, thanks again. This was really nice
of you.
NONA
It was the least we could do. And I love
to cook.
Quincy looks up at his Mom, surprised. She quickly hugs his
face into her stomach. Camille lights up.
CAMILLE
Oh, me too. I used to cook for my
friends' parties and things back in
Atlanta.
NONA
You're a caterer?
CAMILLE
Well, no, but once Nathan gets settled
and the girls get a little older, it's
definitely something I want to do.
(then)
Since you love to cook, maybe it's
something we can talk about.
Quincy snickers. Nona quickly changes the subject.
NONA
You know, girl, long as I've lived next
door, I've never seen the inside of this
house.
CAMILLE
Really? Well, come on, then.
Camille hands Monica the cake.
CAMILLE (cont'd)
Honey, put this in the kitchen.
NONA
Help her, Quincy.
Camille and Nona head down the hall, leaving Monica and
Quincy alone. The two just stand there.
Quincy reaches out, scoops a finger of frosting, and pops it
in his mouth. Beat, then Monica takes a bigger scoop.
QUINCY
So...does it hurt?
MONICA
It's this big hole. You could almost see
bone.
QUINCY
For real?
MONICA
Uh huh.
Quincy is impressed.
QUINCY
So how come you could play basketball?
MONICA
I just can.
QUINCY
I never knew a girl that could play.
MONICA
My Mom says she doesn't know where I come
from 'cause I act different.
QUINCY
Your Dad play?
MONICA
He works at a bank.
QUINCY
My Dad plays for the "Clippers." He says
I'ma be a doctor or a lawyer, but I'ma
play for them, too. Same number and
everything.
MONICA
I'm going to be number thirty-two, like
Magic.
QUINCY
He's alright, but my Dad can take him.
MONICA
What was the most points your Daddy ever
got in Junior High?
QUINCY
I don't know. A lot.
MONICA
One time Magic scored forty-eight points,
and they only had six minute quarters and
he sat out the whole fourth.
QUINCY
You do act different.
MONICA
I don't care.
QUINCY
Well, if anybody bothers you, you could
just tell me cause I run this street.
MONICA
I'd just tell my sister, Lena.
QUINCY
She don't know how to box, I bet. My dad
showed me how to fight like Ali.
He shows off a flurry of punches.
MONICA
So, I know karate from "Almighty Isis."
Monica puts the cake down on a box, does a couple of kicks
and hand movements. Quincy is impressed.
QUINCY
Bet you can't do this though.
Quincy does a jump kick. Monica does the same.
QUINCY (cont'd)
Okay, how bout this?
Quincy takes a couple steps back, then does a cartwheel. It
looks great, until he crashes into the box with the cake.
The cake falls onto his head and shoulder.
Monica doubles over, laughing. Quincy is embarrassed.
Camille and Nona rush back into the living room.
CAMILLE
Monica, what did you do?
MONICA
Nothing.
CAMILLE
(to Nona)
Oh, all that work.
NONA
It's...it's okay. Can I get a towel?
Camille quickly crosses into the kitchen. Quincy stares at
the floor.
QUINCY
Sorry.
Nona bends down, whispers in his ear.
NONA
No. Good boy.
INT. WRIGHT HOUSE - MONICA'S ROOM - NIGHT
Monica sits between Lena's legs, grimacing, as Lena works a
comb through her freshly washed, kinky hair. Monica's head
flops like a rag doll. Her eyes are wet.
MONICA
Ow!
Lena keeps tugging.
MONICA (cont'd)
Ow, Lena!!!
Monica punches her in the leg.
LENA
Ow!
Lena yanks Monica's head back as Camille enters, carrying a
yellow dress on a hanger. Monica sees it and her face falls.
MONICA
Ah, Mom.
CAMILLE
I'm lucky I found it. Someone put your
box of dresses under a pile of rags in
the garbage.
Monica sulks. Lena cackles in her ear. Camille has to
laugh.
CAMILLE (cont'd)
Child, pick up your lip.
MONICA
I hate it.
CAMILLE
Fine, you don't like this one, which one
would you rather wear?
MONICA
Pants.
Camille rubs her temples, then hangs the dress on the door.
CAMILLE
(to Lena)
When you're done can you make sure she
brushes her teeth?
LENA
Are you okay?
CAMILLE
I just need to lay down. I've been
running around all day.
Just then, Nathan enters. He holds up two dress shirts as if
it were a matter of life and death.
NATHAN
Which one for tomorrow?
CAMILLE
The blue.
NATHAN
You sure?
Camille nods. Nathan looks at both of them, then:
NATHAN (cont'd)
Can you iron both tonight just in case?
CAMILLE
(beat)
Okay.
NATHAN
Thanks, sweetheart.
He kisses her on the cheek, hands her the two shirts and
crosses out. Monica just watches. Beat, then Camile turns
back to her daughters.
CAMILLE
The boy next door is riding with you to
school so you'll know somebody your first
day.
(to Lena)
Hurry so she can go to sleep.
Monica reacts, surprised. Camille leaves. Lena puts the
comb back to Monica's hair. Beat, then:
MONICA
Make it look nice, kay.
INT. MCCALL HOUSE - QUINCY'S ROOM - NIGHT
Basketball posters, "Clippers" and USC memorabilia, a
basketball globe light.
Quincy lays tucked in bed, eyes wide open, listening to his
parents MAKING LOVE. The sounds bring a smile to his face.
Quincy climbs out of bed, wearing underwear. He moves to his
window, sees Monica through her window directly across from
his. Her eyes are closed as Lena braids her hair. Quincy
kneels down, rests his arms on the window sill, and watches.
EXT. MCCALL AND WRIGHT HOUSES - MORNING
Quincy sits atop his BMX bike in front of Monica's house. A
basketball is tucked under his arm.
Monica emerges, walking her banana-seater. She is looking
cute in her yellow dress and braids tied with ribbons. A
basketball sits in her back basket.
Quincy is taken aback, stares at her.
QUINCY
You wanna be my girl?
Monica blinks in surprise. She thinks for a moment.
MONICA
What do I have to do?
QUINCY
I guess, you know, we play ball and we
ride to school together. And if you get
mad at me, I gotta give you flowers.
MONICA
I don't like flowers.
QUINCY
Oh.
MONICA
How bout Twinkies? My mom won't ever
buy them.
QUINCY
Kay.
MONICA
Okay.
An awkward beat between the new couple. Finally --
QUINCY
I think we gotta kiss now.
MONICA
For how long?
QUINCY
Five seconds.
The two glance around, then climb off their bikes and walk to
the secluded area between their two houses.
QUINCY (cont'd)
Ready?
Monica nods. They lean in, eyes wide open, and touch lips.
Quincy counts to five with his fingers. They pull away,
embarrassed, and walk back to the driveway.
Monica lifts her bike from the ground and climbs on.
QUINCY (cont'd)
Wait. Cause you're my girl now you
gotta ride my bike.
MONICA
I want to ride my own bike.
QUINCY
My Dad always drives my Mom.
MONICA
So?
QUINCY
(impatient)
So that means I have to ride with you.
Monica doesn't move.
QUINCY (cont'd)
Come on.
MONICA
I don't have to do what you say.
QUINCY
Man, forget you then, stupid.
MONICA
You're stupid. And your Daddy plays for
the worst team in the NBA.
Quincy's face instantly clouds.
QUINCY
What?
MONICA
(laughs)
Last time they won, Dr. J. was a nurse.
QUINCY
Shut up!
He shoves her, knocking her off her bike.
QUINCY (cont'd)
I don't wanna be your boyfriend, you ugly
dog!
Monica leaps up, her dress now dirty. She shoves him back.
MONICA
I don't want to be your girlfriend, big
head!
They grapple, then fall to the ground swinging...
FADE TO:
BLACK.
FOOTAGE. Men's NCAA Finals. Michigan State against Indiana
State. Magic Johnson against Larry Bird. Magic drives on
Bird, hits a beautiful scoop shot. He celebrates as he jogs
back down court...
FADE IN:
TITLE CARD: "SECOND QUARTER" then "1988"
INT. CRENSHAW HIGH SCHOOL GYM - DAY
A snarling Black cougar glares down from a large mural. On
the court below, a girl's basketball play-off game.
The bleachers are almost half-full with a hyped crowd. In
the crowd are Monica's parents. Her father is excited and
vocal. Her mom reads a book. Also in the stands, the HEAD
COACH OF THE TENNESSEE LADY VOLS, PAT SUMMIT.
A fine-ass BROTHER leans in the doorway, sporting a letter
jacket with an embroidered "Q" on the chest. He gets as much
attention as the game. A couple of JUNIOR VARSITY
CHEERLEADERS smile his way.
CHEERLEADERS
"U", "G", "L", "Y", you ain't got no
alibi, you ugly, yeah, yeah, you ugly.
"M", "A", "M", "A", how you think you got
that way, your Mama, yeah, yeah, your
Mama.
On the floor, MONICA, dribbles down court. Just EIGHTEEN,
her athletic figure has a few curves, but her loose jersey
does little to show it off. Her hair is a mess and her knees
are dark with bruises. A small scar is visible on her cheek.
She whips a no-look, around the back pass to a cutting
TEAMMATE under the basket, who scores. The crowd cheers.
Monica defends the opposing point guard like a gnat. She
knocks the ball loose and grabs it up. She goes for a lay-up
and the opposing guard steps in front of her. Monica crashes
into her, knocking both to the floor.
A WHISTLE.
REFEREE
No basket! Offensive foul, number thirty-
two.
Monica leaps up.
MONICA
What? She wasn't set!
The referee ignores her.
MONICA (cont'd)
She was still moving!
From the sideline, COACH HISERMAN waves frantically.
COACH HISERMAN
Monica! Let it go!
Monica stares down the ref as she jogs back on defense.
The opposing guard drives the lane and puts up a shot.
Monica leaps and blocks it with a taunting scream. A
WHISTLE.
REFEREE
Technical foul! Number thirty-two.
Coach Hiserman slams down his clipboard. Monica charges the
referee. A teammate grabs at her but she pushes her off.
MONICA
For what?
REFEREE
Taunting.
MONICA
Taunting?!
COACH HISERMAN
Sub!
MONICA
Man, you suck!
The referee whips back around, whistle in mouth. Coach
Hiserman grabs her arm and pulls her off the court.
COACH HISERMAN
Sit down and shut up.
Monica slams down in a chair, sweat pouring, hands clenched.
Her mom watches from the stands, completely embarrassed. The
brother in the doorway turns, leaves.
Monica looks up at the clock. SIX MINUTES LEFT IN THE THIRD
QUARTER.
DISSOLVE TO:
INT. CRENSHAW HIGH SCHOOL GYM - LATE DAY
Monica, still benched, sits slumped in her chair, her sweats
on, her face dry. She glances up at the clock. TWENTY
SECONDS LEFT IN THE FOURTH QUARTER. Her team's up by SIX.
Her teammates dribble out the clock. The BUZZER SOUNDS and
they dance across the floor. Monica looks up in the stands.
COACH SUMMIT IS GONE.
INT. WRIGHT HOUSE - KITCHEN - DUSK
Camille, now forty-three, stands at the stove stirring a pot
of gumbo. Lena, 21, and pretty, stands next to her, holding
a handful of plates and silverware.
CAMILLE
...and if you want a thicker base, you
can cut in a potato or just use a little
flour.
LENA
But you use potato?
Camille nods as they cross into:
INT. DINING ROOM - CONTINUOUS
At the table, Monica is in mid-conversation with her dad.
Camille and Lena start setting the table.
MONICA
Dad, you have to talk to Coach for me.
NATHAN
And what am I supposed to say to the man?
MONICA
The coach from Tennessee was there and he
has me riding the bench.
NATHAN
You lost your head.
MONICA
I was just showing emotion.
CAMILLE
So that means it's alright for you to act
like that?
LENA
(to Monica)
What'd you do?
MONICA
(dismissive)
nothing.
CAMILLE
I don't know why I keep hoping you'll
grow out of this tomboy thing.
MONICA
I won't. I'm a lesbian.
Lena chokes on her drink, cracks up.
CAMILLE
That's not funny
MONICA
Well, that's what you think, isn't it?
Cause I'd rather wear a jersey than an
apron...
CAMILLE
Watch your mouth.
Nathan quickly jumps in, tries to clean things up.
NATHAN
Monica, I think her point is...maybe it's
time to start thinking about other things
besides basketball.
MONICA
(taken aback)
What?
NATHAN
You only have one game left and you
haven't been recruited. Munchkin, I
wanted it as bad as you did, but we have
to face reality.
MONICA
The coach from USC is going to be at the
championship.
NATHAN
I know. But chances are...
MONICA
Chances are there's still a chance.
Nathan nods. She can always soften her dad, but not her mom.
CAMILLE
If you'd just listen for once, you'd
realize you have a lot more going for
yourself. You're smart, you'd be pretty
if you put a comb to your head. I mean,
why walk around with your hair looking
like "whodunit"...?
As her mom nags on, Monica looks out the window.
OUTSIDE, QUINCY and a GIRL lean against a car parked at the
curb, slobbing each other down.
Just shy of 18, with a magnetic face and muscular body, he is
a brother who drank his chocolate milk. HE IS ALSO THE
BROTHER WHO WAS WATCHING MONICA'S GAME FROM THE GYM DOORWAY.
Monica watches and her mom's droning voice disappears...
EXT. MCCALL HOUSE - SAME TIME
FELICIA, 17, can't get enough of Quincy's lips.
QUINCY
Yo, Felicia, I gotta get to my game.
She keeps kissing him.
QUINCY (cont'd)
And my mom's about to be home.
FELICIA
So I'm not good enough to meet your mom?
QUINCY
Girl, she knew I had a hottie like you
up inhere, she'd beat the black off me.
FELICIA
(kissing him again)
That's a lot of beating.
She finally lets go, and slides into her car. Quincy watches
her go with a cocky-ass smile.
INT. CRENSHAW HIGH SCHOOL GYM - NIGHT
A frenzied crowd from floor to ceiling watches Quincy explode
across the court. He is the complete point guard - hitting
from the outside, driving to the hoop, no-look passes,
playing tight D.'
His father, Zeke, now 39, stands on the sideline. His muscle
has softened a little over the last five years of retirement.
Monica sits alone in the bottom row, holding a basketball.
She wears jeans and a T-shirt and her hair is pulled back in
a simple pony-tail.
Quincy does a killer cross-over move and his Defender falls
down. He lays up the ball, then taunts the player he just
poster-ized. Behind Monica, TWO GIRLS smack each other
excitedly. One of them, SHAWNEE, 17, pretty, big chest,
slides down into the empty seat next to her.
SHAWNEE
Hey, girl.
MONICA
Hey.
SHAWNEE
Your hair looks so cute like that.
Monica knows she's full of shit, doesn't respond.
SHAWNEE (cont'd)
So...you know who Q's asking to the
Spring Dance?
MONICA
No.
SHAWNEE
C'mon, girl, you live next door. Who's
been creeping?
MONICA
There's so many I just can't keep track.
SHAWNEE
Well, can you give him this for me?
Shawnee holds out a folded note. Monica doesn't take it.
MONICA
Give it yourself.
SHAWNEE
I don't wanna look fast.
(drops it in Monica's lap)
Thanks, girl.
She slides back to her seat. Monica shakes her head, turns
back to the game.
Quincy dives for a loose ball. Shawnee clutches her friend.
SHAWNEE (cont'd)
Good Lord, look at that ass. I just want
to lick the sweat off it.
Monica takes in his tight body. He does look good. Quincy
jogs back down court and flashbulbs go off...
MATCH CUT TO:
INT. CRENSHAW HIGH SCHOOL GYM - NIGHT
Flashbulbs. Quincy stands with his dad, his sweat still
fresh, talking to a reporter named JIM.
JIM
Quincy, word has it you might make the
jump the NBA.
ZEKE
Don't go starting rumors, Jim. My son's
college bound with or without basketball.
JIM
You could make a career by telling me
where.
ZEKE
Gotta wait til the press conference.
JIM
But you'd love for him to play at USC,
like you did.
ZEKE
I'd love for him to get a good education.
(then)
That's it.
Jim crosses away. Zeke puts an affectionate arm around his
son as they walk toward the locker room.
ZEKE (cont'd)
We should have another talk with Coach
Carril at Princeton.
QUINCY
Pop, there's no way an Ivy League Team is
going all the way.
ZEKE
I don't care about the team. I care
about the school.
QUINCY
Didn't we already have this conversation?
Zeke sighs, then:
ZEKE
You played good. I was proud of you.
Quincy smiles wide.
QUINCY
Yeah?
(then)
So you up for a game later?
ZEKE
I don't wanna hurt your feelings.
QUINCY
You don't wanna hurt your back.
ZEKE
(smiles)
Anyway, I gotta get to this meeting.
Tell your Mom I'm gonna be late.
QUINCY
You work too hard, Pop.
ZEKE
Let's hope I can say the same about you
one day.
Quincy watches his dad move toward the doors, stopping once
to give an autograph. Zeke passes Monica, entering.
MONICA
Hey, Mr. M.
ZEKE
Hey, Miss Baller.
He exits. Monica approaches Quincy.
MONICA
Way to hoop.
QUINCY
I know this. What do you want?
MONICA
A ride home.
QUINCY
Your legs don't look broke.
MONICA
Look, big head, I'll be at your car.
QUINCY
Guess "please" would be a stretch.
MONICA
(dryly)
Please.
INT. QUINCY'S JEEP - NIGHT
Silence as Quincy wheels his Jeep Wrangler toward home.
Monica sits in the passenger seat, basketball in lap. She
pulls Shawnee's note from her pocket. Quincy glances it
over.
QUINCY
What's that?
MONICA
Some note Shawnee Easton told me to give
to you.
QUINCY
(thinks)
Big-ass titties?
Monica shoots him a disgusted look. Quincy reaches out.
QUINCY (cont'd)
Give it here.
Monica leans away, reads aloud.
MONICA
"Q. I think you are so fine and I've
been wanting to get with you. Let me
take you to the Spring Dance and I
promise I'll leave you satisfied."
Monica laughs in disbelief.
MONICA (cont'd)
What a ho.
QUINCY
Why she gotta be a ho, just cause she
wants to get with me.
MONICA
She's a ho cause she's sending her
coochie through the mail.
QUINCY
And?
MONICA
And? She's not saying, "I think you're a
nice guy and I wanna get to know you
better," she's saying, "I wanna bone."
QUINCY
So she's honest.
MONICA
Yeah, an honest tramp-ass ho. But I
guess you'll stick your dick in anything.
QUINCY
Didn't know you cared so much.
MONICA
I don't.
QUINCY
So who you going to the dance with,
Spalding?
MONICA
Who's Spalding?
Quincy looks down at the SPALDING BASKETBALL in her lap and
cracks up. Monica glares.
MONICA (cont'd)
Fuck you, Quincy.
QUINCY
See, that's why you ain't getting
recruited.
MONICA
Who said I'm not getting recruited?
QUINCY
Your hot-ass temper.
Monica points to the scar on her cheek.
MONICA
I'm not the one who put this scar here.
QUINCY
God, here we go.
MONICA
When we were eleven years old cause he
was about to lose.
Quincy turns, faces her.
QUINCY
That's it, give it your best shot.
MONICA
Would you watch the damn road?
QUINCY
I mean it, give it your best shot, cause
I'm tired of you holding that over my
head.
MONICA
I'm warning you, don't tempt me.
QUINCY
I'm warning you. You don't stall that
bad attitude, no one's gonna recruit you.
Quincy pulls his Jeep into his driveway.
MONICA
Please, you jump in some guy's face, talk
smack and you get a pat on your ass. But
because I'm a female, I get told to calm
down and act like a "lady". I'm a
ballplayer, okay. A ball player.
QUINCY
With a jacked-up attitude.
MONICA
Didn't know you cared so much.
QUINCY
I don't.
MONICA
Good.
Monica slams out of the Jeep and walks across the lawn to her
house. Quincy exits his ride.
INT. MCCALL HOUSE - ENTRY WAY - SHORT TIME LATER
Quincy steps inside, drops his bag on the floor. His mom,
Nona, approaches from the dining room.
QUINCY
What's up, Moms.
Nona holds up a large hoop earring.
NONA
What is this?
QUINCY
Uh, your earring?
NONA
I look like some hoochie to you? I
found it on your floor.
QUINCY
What are you doing in my room?
Quincy crosses into:
INT. KITCHEN - CONTINUOUS
Nona follows. Quincy pulls open the fridge, grabs a couple
of slices of cold pizza.
NONA
Quincy, I told you about these fat-ass
girls.
QUINCY
We were just studying.
NONA
I'm not playing with you, these girls are
looking to get you caught. They see you,
they see dollar signs.
QUINCY
Okay.
NONA
You hearing me?
QUINCY
I've been hearing you.
Nona eyes her son, then lets up. She gives him a kiss.
NONA
How was your game?
QUINCY
Twenty-seven points, eleven assists and
still undefeated.
NONA
Still the man.
QUINCY
Yup.
Nona smiles, starts back the kitchen.
NONA
Where's your dad?
QUINCY
Said he'd be home later.
NONA
Later when?
QUINCY
I don't know, he had a meeting or
something.
Quincy exits to his room.
INT. MCCALL HOUSE - ZEKE AND NONA'S ROOM - LATE NIGHT
Nona angrily rolls her hair as Zeke undresses.
ZEKE
I had some players to see and hands to
shake.
NONA
At one in the morning?
ZEKE
I'm not gonna get anywhere punching a
clock just so my wife doesn't get an
attitude.
NONA
I came second to the NBA. I'm not about
to come second to this bullshit scouting
job.
Zeke looks at her, offended.
NONA (cont'd)
I didn't mean it like that.
ZEKE
Yeah.
NONA
I'm just saying it'd be nice if you found
time for your family.
You should see the tramps coming after
Quincy. If you don't talk to him...
ZEKE
I have.
A beat.
NONA
You said you'd think about going back to
get your degree.
ZEKE
No, you said I should get my degree. I
like my "bullshit" job, okay, and it's
gonna lead to a spot in the front office.
Til then, don't worry, there's just
enough savings to keep your ass in Gucci
and gold.
Livid, Nona pulls off her gold bracelet, throws it at him.
NONA
Fine, then how many nights home is that?
ZEKE
Keep your voice down.
She grabs a pair of gold earrings from her jewelry box, nails
him.
NONA
How about now? I got a week yet?
INT. MCCALL HOUSE - QUINCY'S ROOM - CONTINUOUS
Quincy lies in bed, staring at the ceiling, as his parents
continue to have it out.
He rolls out of bed, pulls on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt.
He moves to his window, pulls it open and climbs out...
EXT. MCCALL AND WRIGHT HOUSES - CONTINUOUS
Quincy crosses the grass to Monica's window, knocks quietly.
Long beat, then Monica sleepily stumbles to her window,
wearing boxers and a tank top. She pushes it open and Quincy
pulls himself through...
INT. WRIGHT HOUSE - MONICA'S ROOM - CONTINUOUS
Now a routine, Monica tosses Quincy one of her pillows and
blankets, then crawls back into bed.
He lays out on the floor and closes his eyes. Monica casts a
long, sleepy glance at him, then drifts back to sleep.
DISSOLVE TO:
INT. WRIGHT HOUSE - MONICA'S ROOM - LATE DAY
Posters of Magic line three walls. A hand-made collage of
female college and Olympic ball-players fills the fourth.
The only real "soft" touch is the teddy bear laying on the
pillow.
Monica sits on the floor between Lena's legs, as Lena puts
Monica's hair in cornrows.
LENA
That too tight?
MONICA
No.
LENA
Mom's going to hate it.
MONICA
Always on my ass, anyway.
LENA
Like you don't give her a hard time.
MONICA
Just cause I don't kiss her booty like
you...
Lena yanks Monica's head back.
MONICA (cont'd)
Ow!!!
LENA
You need to. She's alone in this house
all day, taking care of Dad and your
ungrateful behind.
MONICA
No one's forcing her.
LENA
Just try and chill a little bit, alright.
Monica doesn't answer. Lena yanks her head back again.
MONICA
Ow!!! Okay!
They crack up.
LENA
So what's going on with the Spring Dance?
You have a date yet?
MONICA
(sarcastically)
Yeah, brothers are lined up at my locker.
LENA
I found you someone.
MONICA
Found? I'm not some charity case.
LENA
I know...
MONICA
Mom tell you to do this?
LENA
No.
MONICA
Damn, Lena...
(then)
Who is he?
LENA
This brother from my college.
MONICA
He's in college?
LENA
And he's fine, girl.
MONICA
How'd you get him to say yes?
LENA
I told him you looked like me.
MONICA
Oh, great.
LENA
You do.
MONICA
Yeah, right.
LENA
If you were tore up I would not be
claiming you. Trust.
Monica is not convinced.
LENA (cont'd)
We'll do something cute with your hair,
get you a dress, get you some heels...
MONICA
I don't know how to walk in heels.
LENA
Hey. You just worry about playing your
behind off for that recruiter tonight.
Let me worry about your date.
Lena starts to braid Monica's hair again. Beat, then...
MONICA
You ever been in love?
LENA
Too many times.
MONICA
They ever love you back?
LENA
Yeah, once I cut them off. Why?
Monica just shrugs. Lena continues braiding.
EXT. MCCALL HOUSE - DRIVEWAY - LATE DAY
Quincy and Zeke sweat through a playfully intense game of one-
on-one.
Quincy almost breaks Zeke's ankles with a cross-over dribble,
and leaves him in the dust. He stops under the basket, waves
for his Dad to come on before laying it up.
Zeke smiles, tells Quincy to bring that shit on again.
Quincy tries his cross-over again and this time Zeke picks
him clean.
Zeke taunts him as he easily backs in on him to the basket.
INT. WRIGHT HOUSE - KITCHEN - DUSK
Camille stands at the stove, cooking up some yams. Monica
enters with a gym bag over her shoulder, dribbling her ball.
THE HOOD OF HER SWEATSHIRT COVERS HER HAIR.
CAMILLE
Monica, please.
Monica stops.
MONICA
Sorry.
(then)
I'm leaving.
Camille fills a spoon from the pot, holds it out.
CAMILLE
Taste this.
MONICA
I can't eat before a game.
CAMILLE
Child, take a bite.
Monica sighs, takes a bite. It's good.
CAMILLE (cont'd)
I found some apricot chutney and mixed it
with the yams.
MONICA
You really should be a caterer or
something like you used to say.
CAMILLE
Sure. In between all the other things I
have to do.
She pulls off Monica's hood, then stops when she sees her
braids. Monica looks back defiantly.
MONICA
What?
CAMILLE
Nothing. So good luck.
She forces a smile, turns back to her cooking. Monica just
nods, and crosses out.
INT. CRENSHAW HIGH SCHOOL GYM - NIGHT
The championship game. The bleachers are almost filled.
Nathan and Lena sit, dead center. ALSO IN ATTENDANCE, COACH
CHERYL MILLER - THE COACH OF USC.
Quincy sits in the back row with a couple of teammates. As
always, he's the focus of much attention.
Monica and her teammates are crouched in a tight huddle,
surrounding Coach Hiserman.
COACH HISERMAN
I don't have to tell you girls how big
this game is. We worked too damn hard
all season to leave without this
championship. So let's play smart...
(looks at Monica)
...let's play in control, and let's kick
some butt. Cougars on three.
Once...two...three.
TEAM
Cougars!
As Monica moves to center court, she glances up at the USC
Coach, then at Quincy.
Monica takes a deep breath as she lines up for the opening
tip. An opposing player suddenly bumps her out of position.
Monica glares at her, but just moves over.
The ball is tossed up...
SMASH CUT TO:
INT. CRENSHAW GYM - NIGHT
Fourth quarter. One minute left. Cougars down three.
Monica dribbles down court, bouncing with confidence as her
opponent plays her tight.
Monica zips a no-look pass to a teammate, who lays it up.
Quincy punches one of his friends - "Oh shit!" She is having
the game of her life.
On the defensive end, Monica steals the ball. She drives the
length of the court, lays it up between two defenders. The
crowd is hyped.
Twenty seconds left, up by one. Monica hounds the opposing
guard as she brings up the ball.
Monica suddenly reaches in and knocks the ball loose. As she
goes for the ball, a WHISTLE.
REFEREE
Reaching in, number thirty-two. One-and-
one.
Boos fill the gym. Monica's eyes widen.
MONICA
No!
Anger rushes through her as she starts for the ref.
MONICA (cont'd)
That's bullsh--!
COACH HISERMAN
Monica!
Monica catches herself, turns the word "shit" into a
frustrated yell as she quickly moves away from the ref.
Monica lines up for the free-throw, clenching her fists. The
girl hits the first one. Then, she hits the second.
With ten seconds left, down by one, Monica drives down court
and throws up a prayer. EVERYONE IS ON THEIR FEET AS THE
BALL SPINS AROUND THE RIM. AND THEN...IT POPS OUT. An
opposing player grabs the rebound and Monica has no choice
but to foul her.
Monica has just fouled out. She walks to her bench and drops
down. She buries her face in a towel and sobs.
The buzzer goes off. Cougars lose.
Quincy stares at Monica, feeling almost as bad as she does.
DISSOLVE TO:
INT. WRIGHT HOUSE - MONICA'S ROOM - NIGHT
Monica sits slumped on her bed in a bathrobe, as Lena stands
in front of her, putting the finishing touches on Monica's
make-up.
LENA
Might help if you didn't look so evil.
MONICA
I don't even want to go.
She steps back, looks at her work.
LENA
Mom!
Beat, then Camille enters.
LENA (cont'd)
Talk to me.
Camille stares at her daughter, taken aback by how great she
looks.
CAMILLE
Go in my top drawer and get my pearls.
Lena exits. Monica still looks miserable.
CAMILLE (cont'd)
You okay?
Monica shrugs.
CAMILLE (cont'd)
Well, can you promise me one thing?
MONICA
What?
CAMILLE
Tonight, don't worry about yesterday's
game, the recruiters, or anything else.
I just want you to enjoy being beautiful.
Will you do that?
Monica takes this in as Lena returns with Camille's pearls.
LENA
Here.
Camille puts them around Monica's neck. Monica looks back at
her.
MONICA
You really think I look beautiful?
Camille smiles at her daughter, nods. Monica touches the
pearls.
INT. CRENSHAW GYM - NIGHT
An R&B song jams through the speakers, filling the dance
floor with high school kids in suits and dresses.
In the middle of the floor, Quincy gets his groove on with
his date, Shawnee. She dances so provocatively, there is no
mistaking what she has in mind for later.
Over at the doors, Monica enters with her college date,
JASON, 21, and fine. Heads turn in surprise. Monica feels
the stares, shifts nervously.
JASON
Can I take your coat?
MONICA
You're cold?
Monica starts to pull it off.
JASON
No, I mean I can check it for you.
MONICA
(embarrassed)
Oh, sorry.
Jason pulls off her coat, revealing a dress that shows off
everything Monica has been hiding. He checks out her frame,
smiles.
JASON
Your sister wasn't lying.
He crosses to the coat check, leaving her alone.
ANGLE ON
Quincy, who glances over from the middle of the dance floor,
and abruptly stops. He stares at Monica in shock.
QUINCY
Oh...shit.
Quincy starts off the floor as a new song kicks in.
SHAWNEE
Q, I like this song...
ANGLE ON
Monica, sees Quincy approaching in his suit. She quickly
steadies herself on her heels, brushes a curl from her face.
QUINCY
See you made it.
MONICA
Yeah.
QUINCY
You don't look half-bad.
MONICA
You either.
Jason returns. Quincy looks at him, surprised.
JASON
What's up, Black. I'm Jason.
QUINCY
Q.
Shawnee suddenly steps up, slides her arms around Quincy.
SHAWNEE
Dang, girl, I didn't know Nike made
dresses.
Monica looks at Shawnee, wrapped around Quincy. She can't
believe it.
MONICA
Guess we'll see you later.
Monica heads into the crowd with her college man. Quincy
watches her go.
INT. CRENSHAW HIGH SCHOOL GYM - LATER
Monica sits at a table with Jason. His arm lays casually
across the back of her chair. Monica sits upright, stiff.
JASON
So, you like school?
Monica smiles nervously, nods.
JASON (cont'd)
Yeah, high school was cool. I don't
remember sisters being as fine as you,
though.
Monica just holds that nervous smile.
JASON (cont'd)
So what do you like studying?
MONICA
Gym.
He waits for more, but nothing comes.
JASON
I'm an English major. You like English?
MONICA
Sort of.
JASON
Careful.
MONICA
Huh?
JASON
That was two words.
Monica ducks her head, embarrassed. Jason laughs.
JASON (cont'd)
Girl, how come you're so stressed?
MONICA
Sorry.
JASON
I mean, I'm having a good time with
you...
His arm slides off the back of her chair and onto her
shoulders.
JASON (cont'd)
So tell me what I have to do to make you
have a good time with me.
MONICA
My mouth is kinda dry.
JASON
Then I'll get you some punch.
He stands, then.
JASON (cont'd)
Just don't jet while I'm gone and leave a
glass slipper behind.
Monica's face lights up. Jason smiles.
JASON (cont'd)
There we go.
He crosses away to the refreshment table. Monica smiles
wider, leans back in her chair with her legs splayed. She
catches herself and quickly crosses them.
A couple of guys pass by and check her out. Monica smiles
wider. Quincy steps up, holding two cups of punch.
QUINCY
Hey.
MONICA
Hey.
QUINCY
You having fun?
MONICA
Yeah.
QUINCY
Yeah, the DJ's kinda whack, though.
(beat)
So who is this clown?
MONICA
He ain't Spalding.
QUINCY
Guess not.
MONICA
So you took Shawnee, huh?
The DJ puts on "Make It Last Forever" by Keith Sweat.
Couples move to the dance floor.
QUINCY
(embarrassed)
You know, it was late and she asked...
JASON
You want to dance?
Jason stands behind her chair. Monica smiles shyly.
MONICA
Sure.
Jason puts down her cup of punch, takes her hand, leads her
to the dance floor.
Quincy just shakes his head, then crosses to his table, grabs
Shawnee's hand.
QUINCY
C'mon.
He pulls Shawnee to the middle of the floor.
ANGLE ON
Monica, nervous at first, a little awkward, but Jason gently
guides her in a slow circle and she starts to relax.
Jason moves his hands down Monica's back, pulling her in
closer. Shawnee snuggles into Quincy's chest, runs her hands
down his neck. The heat from bodies grows.
Monica and Quincy glance up at the same time and catch each
other's eyes. They start to look away but find they can't.
Eyes locked as they dance, they move together, almost feel
each other. Finally, as their bodies turn, they lose sight.
Monica puts her head to Jason's chest, Quincy slides his
hands lower down Shawnee's back. The music continues...
INT. JASON'S CAR - NIGHT
Jason and Monica are parked up on Mulholland Drive. LL Cool
J's "I Need Love" plays on the tape deck.
Jason has his arm around Monica, ready to make his move.
MONICA
(rattling)
Freshman year, my free throw percentage
was fifty-one percent, cause I was
shooting it like a jump shot.
Jason leans in, kisses her bare shoulder.
MONICA (cont'd)
Um...but then sophomore year I was
shooting seventy-five percent from the
line.
Jason kisses her neck.
MONICA (cont'd)
...uh, by keeping my feet set and really
following through.
Jason goes in for the slam dunk. Kisses Monica on the lips.
It's the first time she's really been kissed. Jason pulls
away, smiles.
JASON
That was nice.
MONICA
Uh-huh.
JASON
Your sister told me hands off, but I
can't help myself...
Jason leans in. Monica closes her eyes, and they kiss some
more. Monica tries to follow his practiced lips.
Jason's tongue slides in and their bodies slide down. His
hand moves across her breast. Monica's eyes pop open.
MONICA
Wait...
JASON
Shh. It's okay.
Naive and inexperienced, Monica shuts her eyes tight.
DISSOLVE TO:
E WRIGHT HOUSE -NIGHT
Jason's car pulls off, Monica slowly moves to her front door.
She looks in the living room window. Her mom is asleep in a
chair, trying to wait up.
Monica catches her reflection in the window. She glares at
her made-up face, then wipes at her mouth with her hand.
She steps back , walks to her bedroom window. She pulls it
open, kicks off her heels and climbs through.
INT. WRIGHT HOUSE - MONICA'S ROOM - CONTINUOUS
Monica moves to her bed and drops down. She sits motionless
for a beat, then suddenly feels something beneath her. She
reaches for it. IT'S A LETTER FROM THE USC ATHLETIC
DEPARTMENT. Monica stares at it in her hands...
Light suddenly cuts through the darkness. Monica turns and
is surprised to see Quincy standing in the middle of his
room, pulling off his jacket. Monica moves to her window,
pulls it open.
MONICA
Psst.
Quincy looks over. Beat. Then he climbs out of his window,
drops down.
EXT. WRIGHT AND MCCALL HOUSES - CONTINUOUS
MONICA
Early night for you, isn't it?
QUINCY
I was about to ask you the same thing,
going out with a college boy and all.
Monica doesn't respond.
QUINCY (cont'd)
So where'd you go after?
MONICA
(beat)
Mulholland Drive.
QUINCY
Figures.
MONICA
So what dead-end street did you and
Shawnee hit?
QUINCY
None of your business.
MONICA
Well, I'm sure she kept her word and left
you satisfied.
QUINCY
That what you think?
Monica shrugs.
QUINCY (cont'd)
Little after you left, I told Shawnee it
was time to go and I drove her ass
straight home. And after she told me I
was the dumbest brother in the world, I
took off.
MONICA
Why?
QUINCY
Cause I don't just stick my dick in
anything.
Monica takes this in.
MONICA
I was sitting in Jason's ride with him
kissing on me and feeling on me and it
was really bugging me cause I couldn't
remember how many offensive boards I had
in the championship. And then I guess
she got tired of me sort of accidentally
kneeing him in the balls.
Beat, then Quincy cracks up. Monica laughs with him.
QUINCY
Four.
MONICA
What?
QUINCY
You had four offensive rebounds.
Monica stares at him, surprised. She thinks.
MONICA
Hold up for a second.
Monica disappears back inside. Beat, then she re-appears.
She climbs out her window, drops down. Quincy looks at her.
She holds out the envelope from USC.
QUINCY
When'd you get this?
MONICA
It was on my bed when I came in.
(then)
Can you just...?
QUINCY
(beat)
You sure?
Monica nods. Quincy takes the envelope, sits down on the
grass. Monica sits down beside him. He tears open the
envelope and pulls out the letter.
Monica stares at him as he reads, trying to see an answer in
his face. Quincy finally looks up. Expressionless.
QUINCY (cont'd)
Damn girl...
Monica's face falls. And then, a slow smile spreads across
Quincy's face.
QUINCY (cont'd)
They want you.
Monica grabs the letter, reads. Her head just drops as a
tidal wave of relief washes over her.
Quincy smiles.
QUINCY (cont'd)
Congratulations.
Monica looks up, cheesing.
QUINCY (cont'd)
I'm gonna be there, too. I'm announcing
tomorrow.
MONICA
I knew it.
Monica can't contain her excitement. Without thinking, she
gives Quincy a kiss. They pull away, then break into nervous
laughter.
QUINCY
What was that about?
MONICA
I know, right?
But they both want more. They lean in, kiss deeply. They
fall back on the grass. And kiss. And kiss.
Suddenly, Monica pulls away, sits up. Quincy follows,
instantly apologetic. Monica stares at him, then to his
surprise, she reaches over, gives his shirt a small tug with
her finger.
Quincy stares at her, then slowly pulls off his tie. He
nervously unbuttons his shirt. He fumbles with the last two
buttons.
Monica slowly pulls down the straps of her dress, self-
conscious. Quincy can't keep his eyes off her.
He pulls off his pants. Monica glances down and her eyes
widen. She looks scared to death. Quincy smiles softly,
leans in and gently kisses her. She relaxes. They lay down.
Quincy reaches into his pants for a condom. His hands shake
as he puts it on. They stare at each other as he moves on
top of her.
Quincy pushes inside her. She flinches back in pain. Quincy
immediately stops as tears spring to her eyes.
QUINCY
(softly)
You want to stop?
Monica shakes her head. Quincy pushes inside again. He
looks down at her with tenderness, moves gently, kisses her
tears...
FADE TO BLACK.
FADE IN:
FOOTAGE. 1988-89 NBA Finals. Game SEVEN. The Lakers
against the Pistons. With seconds left, up by three, Magic
guards Isiah Thomas. They collide, no foul is called and the
Lakers win their second championship.
FADE IN:
TITLE CARD: "THIRD QUARTER"
INT. USC - CAMPUS GYM - MORNING
Championship banners hang from the ceiling.
TWELVE YOUNG WOMEN sit on the first two rows of bleachers.
The eight upperclassmen kick back in the second row,
comfortable, confident. Monica and the three other freshmen
sit in front of them, jiggling nervously.
COACH MILLER stands in front of the team.
COACH MILLER
I don't know some of you very well yet,
and you don't know me because I'm still
being nice to you.
Laughter from the upperclassmen.
COACH MILLER (cont'd)
But my philosophy is simple. Hard work
and sacrifice.
There's a lot of basketball history and
pride here at USC, but just putting on
the cardinal and gold doesn't make you a
great player. Hard work and sacrifice
makes you a great player. What you were
doesn't matter anymore. For the first
time in your life, you won't be the best.
You'll be going up against women that are
bigger and stronger and better than you
ever imagined. So the question is, how
will you respond? Well, your answer
better be hard work and sacrifice because
that's the only way you're gonna make it
through. Vince Lombardi preached it and
I teach it, "There is only one way to
succeed at anything and that is to give
everything."
Coach Miller pauses a moment to let her words sink in.
Monica glances at her fellow freshman for their reactions.
Like her, a lot of cockiness, a lot of fear.
COACH MILLER (cont'd)
A few simple rules. Eleven o'clock
curfew, no exceptions. Always be on
time, no exceptions. Attend every class,
no exceptions. No drugs, no alcohol, no
getting pregnant. And finally, respect
yourselves, respect your coaches and
respect your teammates, right Sidra?
SIDRA, senior point guard, nods from the second row.
SIDRA
That's right, Coach.
COACH MILLER
By the end of this year some of you will
hate me...
The upperclassmen crack up.
COACH MILLER (cont'd)
Some of you will want to go home...
UPPERCLASSMEN
(cat-calling)
Cree!
CREE, junior forward, ducks her head sheepishly. Coach
Miller smiles.
COACH MILLER
But I guarantee you, if you work hard and
sacrifice, all of you will be better
basketball players and better people.
Monica nods, accepting the challenge.
EXT. TRACK - EARLY MORNING
It's cold, it's dark. It's six a.m.
The team pounds down the track, pushing through a two-mile
run. Monica and her freshman teammate/roommate SHAYLA, 18,
breathe heavily from the back of the pack.
From the sideline.
COACH MILLER
Let's go, freshmen, you're getting
spanked!
Monica sucks it up, runs faster. She reaches the middle of
the pack, then runs out of gas. She drops back to the rear.
COACH MILLER (cont'd)
Monica, I'm putting you on my Wizard of
Oz team. No brains, no courage and no
heart!
INT. CAMPUS GYM - MORNING
Defensive drills. One by one, players crouch low and move
backwards down the sideline. ZVETTE, a junior guard, hustles
through the drill.
COACH MILLER
Way to work, Zvette.
Monica starts the drill.
COACH MILLER (cont'd)
Get lower, Monica, move your feet.
Monica grimaces as she squats lower.
COACH MILLER (cont'd)
I said lower!
Coach Miller stops her, squats down low beside her.
COACH MILLER (cont'd)
This is low, got it? Offense sells
tickets, defense wins games!
Monica starts again.
INT. CAMPUS GYM - MORNING
The team stands along the baseline. Monica stands right
below the free throw line.
TONI, 6'4", 200 pound senior, drives the lane. Monica steps
in front of her, and is slammed to the floor. She lays still
for a moment, stunned by the impact. Laughter from the
baseline.
SIDRA
Dag, you took her out, T.
Teammates SANDRA and LISA crack up.
SANDRA
I think she just said "Mommy."
LISA
No, she said "mammary."
COACH MILLER
Monica, you trying to tell me you can't
take a little challenge?
Monica crawls to her feet.
MONICA
I can take it.
COACH MILLER
This time get your feet set.
Monica moves back into position. Toni drives at her again.
Monica steps in front of her, braces herself. Toni slams
into her and she hits the floor. Monica blinks back the pain
as she pops back up.
COACH MILLER (cont'd)
Next!
Monica wobbles back to the sideline.
INT. WEIGHT ROOM - LATE DAY
The team is spread out, lifting weights. Monica lies on a
weight bench, her arms shaking as she struggles to bench
press fifty-pounds. Sidra stands behind her, spotting.
SIDRA
You got it, c'mon, lift!
Monica lifts it with Sidra's help.
SIDRA (cont'd)
That's it.
MONICA
Coach hates me, doesn't she?
SIDRA
She hates all freshmen.
Monica scowls, discouraged.
MONICA
What's up with that?
SIDRA
Hey, don't take it personal. And don't
think just cause we play the same
position we have to compete with each
other. We're teammates, okay?
MONICA
Thanks, Sidra.
SIDRA
Besides. I've been starting point the
last two years. Ain't no way some dumb-
ass freshman is taking my spot.
Sidra walks off, leaving Monica with the bar on her chest.
Finally, she has to drop the weight to the floor.
EXT. USC CAMPUS - LATE MORNING
Monica and Quincy walk to class, his arm draped casually
across her shoulders. Quincy gets looks and smiles. Monica
just looks exhausted.
MONICA
You finish the reading for E-con?
QUINCY
Yeah.
MONICA
What'd it say?
QUINCY
Basically broke down how I'm gonna make
mad loot in the NBA, me being such a
limited commodity and all.
MONICA
Whatever, big head.
Quincy laughs. TWO GIRLS pass by, smile.
GIRL #1
Hey, Q-man, you gonna take us to the
Final Four?
QUINCY
We'll see.
GIRL #2
We'll be watching.
The girls continue on. Monica looks at Quincy.
QUINCY
What?
MONICA
You do see me standing here, right?
QUINCY
I can't be nice to a fan?
MONICA
Fine, Quincy.
QUINCY
I can't help girls coming up to me.
MONICA
I said fine.
Quincy looks at her sulking. He suddenly pulls her down onto
the nearby lawn, and cradles her.
QUINCY
It's okay, little baby.
MONICA
(struggling)
Quit.
Quincy grips her tighter, rocks her. Students pass by,
laugh.
QUINCY
Shhh. Daddy's here.
Monica finally cracks up.
MONICA
You're such a punk.
He gives her a kiss.
QUINCY
All these girls...you're the only one I
know who's for real.
Monica smiles, kisses him back.
MONICA
Always.
INT. CAMPUS GYM - MORNING
A heated scrimmage between the women's "A" team (the starting
five) and "B" team (five who want to be starting). Monica
runs point for the "B" team, playing opposite Sidra.
Sidra is all over Monica, slipping in cheap shots, but Monica
starts to come on. She does a quick cross-over and loses
Sidra. She dishes off to Shayla, who scores.
COACH MILLER
Sidra! You feel like playing any "D"?
Sidra scowls as she runs down court. She gets a pass in the
corner, tires to make a move but Monica slaps the ball loose.
Monica grabs it, drives to the three-point line, puts up the
shot. SWISH! Monica stays posed, with her arm up.
Sidra takes advantage, sprints back down court. She get the
long pass, lays it up. Coach Miller blows her whistle.
COACH MILLER (cont'd)
Monica! Get over here.
Monica jogs over, sheepish.
COACH MILLER (cont'd)
While you're so busy posing, your man
just scored!
Monica drops her head.
COACH MILLER (cont'd)
Show me again.
MONICA
What?
COACH MILLER
You love to pose so much, let's see it
again.
Beat, then Monica holds up her arm like she just shot the
ball. Snickers from her teammates.
COACH MILLER (cont'd)
I want you to stand like that for the
rest of practice.
MONICA
Coach...
COACH MILLER
I want you to stand like that until
you're sick of it because I don't ever
want to see it again, you hear me?
(then)
Dora, take her spot.
DORA, freshman, jogs onto the court. Coach Miller blows her
whistle and the scrimmage resumes.
Monica stands alone on the sideline, posing, and feeling like
an asshole.
INT. LOCKER ROOM - LATE MORNING
Monica sits on the bench in front of her locker, dressing
after the shower. Shayla sits next to her.
Nearby, Lisa and Sandra apply make-up in the mirror. Zvette
passes by, already dressed. Lisa turns.
LISA
Z, I know you're gonna shower first.
ZVETTE
I don't smell bad.
SANDRA
And you wonder why your ass sits alone on
the bus.
Cree glances over from another sink, as she snaps the chain
on her CROSS NECKLACE.
CREE
You guys curse too much.
SANDRA
Since when is "ass" a curse?
MAEYEN walks past.
MAEYEN
Whoa, it's as big as yours.
They crack up. Cree just shakes her head. Two TEAMMATES
pass by Monica with their arms raised, mimicking her pose.
Monica shakes her head.
Sidra glances at Monica from her spot on the bench.
SIDRA
That's what you get for trying to show
out, freshman.
MONICA
I was just playing ball.
SIDRA
You were trying to make me look bad.
MONICA
Didn't have to try very hard.
Ears prick up around the locker room. Sidra stands.
SIDRA
Girl, don't you know you're just sloppy
seconds?
Monica rises.
MONICA
What?
Toni tries to step in.
TONI
Sidra, let it go.
SIDRA
Only reason you're here is cause Tonya
Randall got pregnant and decided not to
come. They were done recruiting.
KELLI, senior forward, shakes her head.
KELLI
That's cold, Sid.
SIDRA
Just thought the girl should know.
Monica is stunned. Sidra saunters to the showers. Shayla
nudges her with her shoulder.
SHAYLA
Don't even trip. She's just mad cause
she's bow-legged.
INT. USC SUITES - QUINCY'S ROOM - NIGHT
Monica and Quincy lay feet to face on Quincy's twin bed.
Monica's hand holds an ice bag on Quincy's hip. Quincy's arm
rests across an ice bag on Monica's ankle.
QUINCY
Forget Tonya Randall.
MONICA
I'm telling you, Coach wishes she was
here instead of me.
QUINCY
Then prove her wrong.
MONICA
I don't have it easy like you, alright.
There's no red carpet laid out for me.
QUINCY
So you're gonna act salty all night?
Quincy's roommate/teammate REGGIE, 18, suddenly pops his head
into the room.
REGGIE
Yo, dog, we're about to order some wings.
QUINCY
Nah, thanks.
Reggie shrugs, closes the door. Quincy looks at Monica,
still brooding.
QUINCY (cont'd)
Fine. Don't worry about proving
everybody wrong, okay? You can't handle
the pressure, I'll understand.
MONICA
That was so weak.
QUINCY
Who cares if you're never known as the
first girl in the NBA. You'll get more
play behind Quincy McCall's woman anyway.
Monica shoves Quincy's ice bag down his sweat pants. He
leaps up.
QUINCY (cont'd)
Aaaah! Damn, girl!
MONICA
That's what you get.
He smiles as he pulls the ice. Then looks her up and down.
QUINCY
So how about a little one-on-one?
MONICA
What are we playing for?
QUINCY
Clothes.
MONICA
What?
Quincy locks the door, sets up his indoor hoop.
QUINCY
I score, you strip. You score, I drop
something.
Monica looks at him, then cracks up.
MONICA
Give me the ball.
QUINCY
My court, I go first.
Quincy grips the ball. Monica crouches low on defense.
Quincy drives past her and slams down a vicious dunk.
QUINCY (cont'd)
Strip.
Monica makes a face, then pulls off her sweatshirt. Quincy
skips back. Monica drops low again. Quincy fakes her out
and slams down another vicious dunk. He laughs.
QUINCY (cont'd)
Where's the "D"?
MONICA
Kiss my booty.
QUINCY
Plan to.
Monica glares through her smile, then pulls off her T-shirt,
leaving her in a bra and shorts.
Quincy goes for another dunk, but this time, Monica reaches
out, GRABS HIS DICK. Quincy drops the ball. Monica picks it
up and lays it in.
QUINCY (cont'd)
Hold up...
MONICA
All's fair in love and basketball.
Strip.
Quincy pulls off his shirt. Monica moves back into position.
Quincy drops down low. Monica fakes, gets him to leave his
feet. She slips under him and scores. She laughs.
MONICA (cont'd)
Too bad you got your mama's height, huh.
Quincy pulls off his sweats, leaving him in just drawers.
Monica takes in the view as she moves back into position.
She holds the ball out, taunting. Quincy pretends to reach
for it, but grabs her breast instead.
QUINCY
Oh, my bad.
She drives. Quincy just steps out of the way and lets her
score. Monica snatches the ball off the floor.
MONICA
Yo, where's the "D"?
QUINCY
Right here.
Monica turns, finds Quincy butt-naked. He moves her against
the wall and kisses her. Monica drops the ball, wraps her
arms around him. She smiles.
MONICA
I won.
QUINCY
I wanted you to.
Game over. They hit it.
INT. ESPN STUDIOS
Sportscaster DICK VITALE talks animatedly about the upcoming
season.
DICK VITALE
It's the start of the new college season
and I'm like a kid in a candy store. Too
many great teams to choose from. You
have your Dukes', Kentuckys', Arkansas',
but my surprise treat this season...
INT. BASKETBALL COURT
Sportscaster ROBIN ROBERTS reports on the upcoming women's
season.
ROBIN ROBERTS
...USC. The women of Troy made it to the
Sweet Sixteen last year and are returning
four starters from that squad. And many
consider their recruiting class one of
the best in the nation. The highlight of
that class,...
INT. ESPN STUDIOS
DICK VITALE
...is Quincy McCall, one of my diaper
dandies. He's a real P.T.P., a prime-
time player. Every college in the
country wanted him but he chose to follow
in his father's footsteps and become a
Trojan. He's gonna have a lot on his
shoulders this season...
INT. BASKETBALL COURT
ROBIN ROBERTS
...but Coach Cheryl Miller feels that if
just one of her freshmen has a breakout
year, they can go all the way. It's a
long season, anything can happen, but one
thing is for sure...
INT. ESPN STUDIOS
DICK VITALE
It's gonna be awesome, baby!
MONTAGE:
INT. SPORTS ARENA - NIGHT
A hundred flashbulbs pop as Quincy jogs out to center court.
The crowd goes crazy as...
INT. CAMPUS GYM - NIGHT
Monica sits on the bench, watching Sidra run the floor
against UNLV, as...
INT. SPORTS ARENA - NIGHT
Quincy drives to the three-point line against Cal and puts it
up. It drops through the net. He pounds his fist against
the number twenty-two on his chest, nods to Zeke standing
behind the bench, as...
INT. CAMPUS GYM - NIGHT
Coach Miller motions to Monica. She jumps up, pulls off her
sweats. She jogs past Arizona bench and onto the floor,
as...
INT. SPORTS ARENA - NIGHT
Quincy goes up for a dunk against North Carolina. He jams it
down, grips the rim, and pulls his legs up high, as...
INT. KAISER ARENA - NIGHT
Monica catches a long outlet pass. She drops a no-look
bounce pass between two Berkeley defenders, to a teammate who
scores. She jogs back, as...
INT. SPORTS ARENA - NIGHT
Zeke grips Quincy's head proudly, affectionately, as they
walk off the floor after a game against Washington, as...
INT. UNIVERSITY OF CONNECTICUT - GAMPEL PAVILION - NIGHT
Sidra crashes to the floor, immediately grabs at her ankle.
Monica rises off the bench...
CUT TO:
INT. SPORTS BAR - NIGHT
Televisions hang from every corner, broadcasting various
games.
Zeke and Quincy sit at a bar. Quincy is still hyped from his
game.
QUINCY
...up and under between two defenders,
with the left hand. That's gotta make
SportsCenter.
Zeke just nods as the Bartender/Owner crosses over. He is an
ex-ballplayer named TERRY.
QUINCY (cont'd)
They can't stop me, Pop...
TERRY
What are you having, Zeke?
ZEKE
Genuine Draft. And an orange juice for
my kid.
TERRY
Cross-over's looking good, Quincy. I
know your old man didn't teach you that.
ZEKE
Didn't need a cross-over to post you up.
Terry laughs as he moves off to fix the drinks. Something is
on Zeke's mind, but before he can speak on it...
QUINCY
You know, the numbers I'm putting up are
better than any freshman. Some people
are saying I'm a definite lottery pick.
Zeke suddenly focuses.
ZEKE
What people?
QUINCY
You know, people.
ZEKE
Well, tell them to mind their damn
business. You're smart enough to get a
degree.
QUINCY
I'm also good enough to go pro.
ZEKE
You know how much higher the play level
is in the NBA? Give yourself time to
develop, Quincy. Get an education. The
NBA ain't going nowhere.
QUINCY
You came out early.
ZEKE
Your mom got pregnant and I had to make
choices. You don't have a choice.
QUINCY
Okay...
Silence, then.
ZEKE
Besides, the sooner you go pro, the
sooner you'll have to deal with the mess
I'm dealing with.
QUINCY
What mess?
ZEKE
there's this thing out there. This
paternity suit.
QUINCY
What?
ZEKE
Some girl that's been hanging on at every
party. now I'm supposed to be her baby's
Daddy.
(then)
Anyway, I told your mom I wanted to be
the one who told you.
QUINCY
Tell me what?
ZEKE
I just told you.
QUINCY
I mean, it's not true, is it?
Zeke stares at his son.
ZEKE
You got the balls to ask me that?
Quincy can't hold his father's look. Zeke shakes his head,
hurt.
QUINCY
Sorry.
ZEKE
No, you need to hear me say it, I'll say
it. It's not true.
Quincy looks in his father's eyes, knows he's telling the
truth.
QUINCY
So what are you gonna do?
ZEKE
I want this thing to go to court, but my
lawyer's telling me to settle.
QUINCY
Why?
ZEKE
A case like this could hang around for
months and I'm up for this player
relations job with the "Clips." This
gets out, false or not, no one'll touch
me.
QUINCY
What's Mom think?
ZEKE
We haven't exactly been living the fairy-
tale life the past few years. Something
like this happens, it either brings a
family closer or pushes them further
apart. We'll just have to see how it
plays out.
(then)
I'm giving her some space, couple
days...
Just then, a COLLEGE STUDENT approaches.
COLLEGE STUDENT
Yo, Q-man, great game.
QUINCY
Thanks.
The student holds out a piece of paper, without even a glance
to Zeke.
COLLEGE STUDENT
Can I get an autograph?
Quincy nods, signs the guy's paper. Zeke watches his son,
the rising star.
EXT. MCCALL HOUSE - NIGHT
Through the windows, we see Quincy enter the house. He
glances around, then walks to the living room. He sees his
mom sitting outside by the pool, drink in hand, looking torn
up. He pulls open the sliding glass door. Nona jumps, then
sees Quincy. She quickly puts her drink down.
NONA
You scared me.
QUINCY
Sorry. You okay?
NONA
I'm fine.
Quincy glances at her half-hidden glass.
QUINCY
Last time I remember you drinking was
when Marvin Gaye died.
No response from Nona.
QUINCY (cont'd)
This about Dad?
NONA
Guess he talked to you.
QUINCY
Don't sweat it, okay. Sooner or later
the truth'll come out.
NONA
(beat)
Whose truth are you talking about?
QUINCY
Mom, we can't let something like this
mess up the family.
She doesn't respond. Quincy studies her.
QUINCY (cont'd)
I mean, you believe him, right?
Nona sits silent, humiliated.
QUINCY (cont'd)
Mom?
NONA
Just...leave it alone.
QUINCY
This is just about money, you know that.
NONA
Quincy, please...
QUINCY
I mean, how many times have you told me
yourself to watch out for these ho's?
NONA
Guess I should have been telling your
father.
QUINCY
So you're gonna take the word of some
trick over Pop's? He wouldn't lie.
Nona grabs an envelope beside her and throws it at him.
Confused, Quincy opens it. HE PULLS OUT A COUPLE OF PHOTOS:
Zeke outside a party. IN ONE PHOTO, his arm is around a
young woman. IN ANOTHER PHOTO, they KISS. AND YET ANOTHER,
they climb into his car.
QUINCY (cont'd)
What...what's this?
NONA
I hired somebody. How pathetic is that?
After all his late nights and "meetings"
and I still needed proof.
Quincy just stares at the photos.
NONA (cont'd)
I used to think I was lucky just to be
married to Zeke McCall, but I'm too
tired.
Quincy looks stricken, but he moves to Nona, comforts her as
she cries...
EXT. TRACK - NIGHT
Monica sits with a devastated Quincy, high up in the
bleachers. In the distance, the clock-tower glows 10:50.
QUINCY
Don't put your hands in your pockets,
hold your head up, always look a man in
the eye, and all the time I'm hanging on
his every word like he's God or
something...
MONICA
I know he messed up, but that doesn't
change what he's been to you.
QUINCY
What has he been to me? I mean, he
looked me in my face and lied like it was
nothing. Like it was easy.
(then)
And I'm standing there getting loud on my
mom like she's the one with no sense...
MONICA
She understands.
QUINCY
He even had me wanting to play for the
"Clippers." Man, how stupid am I.
MONICA
You're not stupid.
QUINCY
I know a lot of brothers dog their wives,
I just never thought my pops would do
some shit like this...
Monica puts her arms around him. They sit there, quiet.
Monica glances up at the clock tower. She reacts. Quincy
notices.
QUINCY (cont'd)
What?
MONICA
Nothing.
(beat)
Why don't we walk to my dorm?
QUINCY
I'm not up for running into anybody.
Let's just kick it here, alright?
MONICA
I...can't.
QUINCY
Why not?
MONICA
Coach has us on eleven o'clock curfew.
If I'm late, I don't suit up.
Quincy looks at her, almost in shock.
QUINCY
Didn't realize you were watching the
clock.
MONICA
I mean, I can stay a few more minutes.
QUINCY
Nah. Don't sweat it.
MONICA
Quincy...
QUINCY
For real. I should be alone, anyway.
Monica reluctantly stands.
MONICA
Will you call me when you get in?
Quincy nods. Monica gives him a kiss. Then she turns and
crosses away.
INT. MONICA/SHAYLA'S DORM - NIGHT
The lights are off but Monica sits up in bed. SHE WEARS
BOXERS AND ONE OF QUINCY'S PRACTICE SHIRTS.
Shayla lies under her covers across the room.
MONICA
I shouldn't have left.
SHAYLA
Go to sleep.
MONICA
You should have seen him, Shay...
SHAYLA
Mon, Sidra's out for one game, and you
got the start. But you get caught
breaking curfew and Coach is gonna send
your ass back to the bench. You'll see
your man tomorrow.
Shayla's warning slowly sinks in. Finally, Monica lays down.
DISSOLVE TO:
EXT. TRACK - NIGHT
The clock tower glows 12:30. Quincy still sits in the
bleachers. Alone. Tears fill his eyes as his world comes
crashing down...
DISSOLVE TO:
INT. CAMPUS GYM - LATE DAY
USC vs. Louisiana Tech. The packed crowd is hyped. Nathan
sits by himself in the stands, excited.
Monica sits on the bench with four of her teammates. The
rest of the team is lined up in front of them, including
Sidra in street clothes.
ANNOUNCER
And now the starting line-up for your
Women of Troy! At center, a senior, Toni
Noise!
Toni rises, jogs through the line of teammates to the court.
ANNOUNCER (cont'd)
At forward, a senior, Lisa Mason!
Lisa stands, skips through the line.
ANNOUNCER (cont'd)
At forward, a junior, Zvette Mitchell!
Zvette jumps up, bumps into each teammate as she moves down
the line.
ANNOUNCER (cont'd)
At guard, a freshman, Monica Wright!
Monica takes a deep breath, then jogs through the line. She
gets to the middle of the floor and looks around with her
game face on.
ANNOUNCER (cont'd)
And at guard, a sophomore, Sandra Perez!
Sandra jogs out and the rest of the team follows. Everyone
gathers in a tight circle with their arms around each other.
TONI
Look y'all, we got all these people here
to see big-bad, La Tech. We need to let
them know that this is our house. So
everybody better leave everything out on
that floor, you got that? Ready? One,
two, three....
TEAM
Team!
SMASH CUT TO:
INT. SPORTS ARENA - LATE DAY
A sellout crowd for the men's SC/Temple game. And Quincy is
having the worst game of his life.
He drives down court on a fast break. He ignores his two
open teammates and puts up a three-pointer. It hits nothing
but air. The crowd boos.
Humiliated, Quincy tries to steal the ball back and commits a
stupid foul. His teammates glare at him as they line up for
free throws.
INT. CAMPUS GYM - CONTINUOUS
Monica's game. Late second half. SC down two.
Monica drives the lane, drawing two defenders. She looks
like she's about to force up a shot, then suddenly whips up a
pass to a wide-open Sandra at the three-point line. Nothing
but net. SC up one.
Coach Miller claps intensely on the sideline.
COACH MILLER
That's it, that's it!
Ten seconds left. Game on the line. Monica tries to lob a
pass inside to Toni. The pass is knocked away and grabbed up
by the opposing point guard.
It is a one-on-one between Monica and the guard. The girl
drives hard for the winning hoop. Monica races to the key
and slides in front of her. The guard goes up and slams into
Monica. Both crash to the floor as the ball drops through
the net and the buzzer goes off.
A WHISTLE. The two women stare up at the REFEREE from the
floor. And then --
REFEREE
Offensive foul! Charging! No basket!
Monica leaps up as the crowd goes crazy. Toni grabs up
Monica in a hug as their teammates celebrate around them.
INT. SPORTS ARENA - CONTINUOUS
Quincy drags himself to his bench, slumps down dejectedly, as
the Temple Owls celebrate their win around him.
INT. LOCKER ROOM - DUSK
The female players continue to celebrate as they undress.
MAEYEN
Shoot, you see that crowd? We need to be
playing in the Sports Arena.
KELLI
Hell yeah.
They give each other a pound.
Lisa looks at Monica, standing in her shorts and sports bra.
LISA
Oh damn, Mon.
MONICA
What?
LISA
I think ol' girl took out your chi-chis
with that charge.
The women break into laughter. Monica smiles.
MONICA
Kiss my ass.
SANDRA
Nah, I think she took that too.
MONICA
Sandra, please, last time you chest-
bumped me, it took you three tries.
More laughter. Monica looks over at Toni, sitting quietly at
the bench.
MONICA (cont'd)
Yo, T, why you so quiet?
TONI
(beat)
I don't want to go play overseas.
DORA
I thought you were hyped about going to
Portugal next year.
TONI
It's never gonna be like this. Playing
in front of my family, hanging out with
my girls. Probably not even a
McDonald's.
SANDRA
Nah, there's always a McDonald's.
SIDRA
Least you got an offer. My agent's
still looking.
CREE
(to Lisa)
What about you?
LISA
(beat)
Maybe it'd be worth it if I knew some day
I could come back here and play. But for
right now, it's law school.
COACH MILLER (O.S.)
Monica.
Monica turns, sees Coach Miller standing in her office
doorway. She motions for her. Monica heads over. Sidra
watches.
INT. COACH MILLER'S OFFICE - SHORT TIME LATER
Trophies, plaques and photos fill every empty space.
Coach Miller sits behind her desk. Monica stands before her.
COACH MILLER
You could've given up after you threw
that ball away. But you kept your head
and you showed real heart.
MONICA
Thanks.
COACH MILLER
We've got our final games against Oregon
and Oregon State and I want to shake
things up a bit, so I'm starting you at
point again.
MONICA
(confused)
I thought Sidra's ankle was okay for next
game.
COACH MILLER
You want the job or not?
Realization finally hits.
MONICA
Yeah. Yes.
Monica looks at Coach Miller completely thrown.
COACH MILLER
What?
MONICA
It's just...it seems like you're always
yelling at me.
COACH MILLER
You think I'd go hoarse for a player with
no potential? When I ignore you, that's
when you worry.
(then)
Go get dressed.
Monica nods, crosses out.
INT. LOCKER ROOM - CONTINUOUS
As Monica walks back to her teammates, Coach Miller steps
into the doorway.
COACH MILLER
Sidra.
Sidra looks at Monica as she rises, crosses over. Monica
avoids her eyes as they pass. Sidra enters the office and
the door closes.
SHAYLA
Yo sis, what's going on?
Beat, then Monica smiles.
SMASH CUT TO:
INT. APARTMENT - NIGHT
Black folks pack the cramped houseparty, bumping to a phat
hip hop joint.
Monica bounces through the throng. A GIRL grabs her arm.
GIRL'S VOICE
Yo, great game.
MONICA
Thanks.
Another PARTY-GOER grabs her arm.
PARTY-GOER
Girl, you can play.
Monica smiles wider. She spots Reggie dancing in the crowd,
moves to him.
MONICA
Reg. You seen Quincy?
REGGIE
What's up, girl.
MONICA
(louder)
Derek said Q was here.
REGGIE
We'll roll through.
Monica is suddenly pulled into a dance routine by Sandra and
Lisa.
She laughs, tires to move away, but they won't let her go.
Monica gives in, grooves with them.
ANGLE ON:
Quincy walks through the door with a half-empty forty in his
hand. Girls immediately try to grab his attention from the
dance floor, or stare him down from the sidelines.
Quincy sees Monica on the dance floor. He stands, watching
her. Takes a drink. Monica finally looks over, sees him.
She smiles, crosses to him.
MONICA
Hey.
QUINCY
What's up?
MONICA
I've been trying to find you all day.
QUINCY
Here I am.
She glances at the forty in his hand.
MONICA
Sorry about your game.
QUINCY
It happens, right...
Shayla suddenly grabs Monica from behind.
SHAYLA
(to Monica)
What's up, superstar.
(then, to Quincy)
Your girl was on tonight. She tell you?
QUINCY
(beat)
I heard.
SHAYLA
She also tell you she ganked the starting
spot from Sidra?
Monica looks at him for a reaction.
QUINCY
Nah.
He downs the last of his forty.
QUINCY (cont'd)
Where's the keg at?
SHAYLA
Balcony.
He heads for the glass doors. Monica and Shayla follow.
EXT. BALCONY - CONTINUOUS
Reggie approaches the group. Gives Quincy a nod.
REGGIE
What's up, dog?
(to Shayla)
Hey, flyness.
SHAYLA
Get off the bra strap, Reggie, you're a
ho.
He laughs, then turns back to Quincy.
REGGIE
Coach is gonna kill us in practice
tomorrow. Might even pull his lips off
your dick, limp as your game was tonight.
Quincy just looks at him.
QUINCY
That's funny.
Monica leans against Quincy, affectionately.
MONICA
he's just playing, Q...
QUINCY
You think for once we could talk about
something besides basketball?
SHAYLA
Sure.
REGGIE
Whatever's clever.
Silence. Reggie and Shayla crack up. Quincy shakes his
head, moves to the keg line.
MONICA
Y'all need to quit.
She starts for Quincy
SIDRA (O.S.)
Monica.
Monica looks over, sees Sidra standing in the doorway. There
is no escaping this confrontation. She glances at Quincy,
then crosses over. Quincy turns, sees her disappear back
inside.
INT. HOUSEPARTY - CONTINUOUS
MONICA
What's up?
SIDRA
Just wanted to say good game.
MONICA
But?
SIDRA
No buts. Took a lot of heart to take
that charge.
MONICA
Thanks.
SIDRA
But that was a dumb-ass pass to Toni.
Ten seconds left, you run out the clock.
Monica shakes her head. An awkward silence.
SIDRA (cont'd)
I'd be lying if I said I wasn't pissed.
MONICA
I know.
SIDRA
Just one word of advice for next season.
MONICA
What's that?
SIDRA
Never let a freshman take your spot.
Sidra turns and walks away.
EXT. BALCONY - CONTINUOUS
Quincy takes one long drink from his cup. KERRY, 20, and
spandexed, stands directly in front of him, flirtatiously.
KERRY
Excuse me.
QUINCY
Excuse me.
He steps aside as she tries to work the keg. Nothing comes
out. She nods at his cup, smiles.
KERRY
If that's the last beer, you and I are
sharing.
Shayla glances over as Quincy pumps the keg a couple of
times. Kerry hands him her cup and he starts filling it up.
KERRY (cont'd)
I like watching you play. Number twenty-
two.
QUINCY
Guess you didn't see the game.
Quincy knows he should blow her off, but he's digging the
attention. He hands her back her cup.
QUINCY (cont'd)
What's your name?
KERRY
Kerry.
QUINCY
Q.
KERRY
I know.
ANGLE ON
Monica looks over at Quincy and sees him talking to the
hoochie. The girl looks too damn comfortable. Monica moves
back outside.
KERRY (cont'd)
I'll see you. Q-man.
She swishes past Monica. Shayla "accidentally" bumps her.
Kerry glares.
MONICA
Who was that?
QUINCY
Nobody.
MONICA
Who's nobody?
QUINCY
Look, this party's whack. You ready to
go?
MONICA
You want to go talk?
QUINCY
Not really.
He leans in, kisses her drunkenly. She pulls away.
MONICA
We could finish what we were talking
about last night.
Quincy kisses her again.
MONICA (cont'd)
Q...
(pushing him off)
Quincy, quit. You're drunk.
They fall silent.
QUINCY
You know what, I'm just gonna crash.
MONICA
(agitated)
Fine...Maybe I'll come by later.
QUINCY
Nah. I have curfew.
He starts to walk away, then stops.
QUINCY (cont'd)
Oh, by the way. Congratulations.
He goes. Monica stares after him.
INT. QUINCY/REGGIE'S SUITE - LIVING ROOM - LATER
Quincy pushes through his front door, then stops short in his
doorway. Zeke sits on the couch.
QUINCY
What are you doing here?
ZEKE
Your door was unlocked.
QUINCY
Still is, so let yourself out.
ZEKE
We need to talk.
QUINCY
We ain't got nothing to talk about.
ZEKE
I messed up, okay, I know that. But I
ain't that kid's father.
QUINCY
Lucky kid.
ZEKE
Look, I ain't saying it was right, but
sometimes things happen.
QUINCY
And some things should never fucking
happen!
ZEKE
Boy, you're so perfect you can look down
on me?
QUINCY
I ain't a damn liar.
ZEKE
Your mom was real quick to show you those
pictures, wasn't she?
Well, she was nineteen when she got
pregnant and don't get me wrong, you're
the best thing in my life, but she knew I
wasn't ready for no marriage.
QUINCY
So now you're saying my mother trapped
you?
ZEKE
I'm saying I handled my responsibilities
like a man. But when you're in the NBA,
you pull into a city and there's a
hundred women waiting at the hotel. And
another twenty that made it past security
on your floor. And the boldest one is
standing right at your door. And after
awhile, it just becomes part of the game.
(then)
I'm sorry I lied to you, I shouldn't
have. But I did it cause I love you.
Zeke looks at his son, meaning every word. Quincy stares
back, long and hard.
QUINCY
Since we're being honest, guess I should
tell you. I'm dropping out of school and
going pro.
ZEKE
What?
Quincy just stares back.
ZEKE (cont'd)
Quincy, you'd be making the biggest
mistake of your life.
QUINCY
(sarcastic)
From your mouth.
ZEKE
(desperate)
I know your mad at me, okay, but I can't
let you do this.
QUINCY
Always thought "can't" wasn't in a man's
vocabulary.
Zeke is taken aback by the hatred in his son's eyes. He
turns and without another word, exits.
EXT. STREET - LATE NIGHT
Quincy stands across the street from the houseparty, staring
up at the balcony. Monica leans against the railing,
laughing with a couple of teammates. Quincy watches her,
then turns and walks away...
DISSOLVE TO:
EXT. CAMPUS GYM - LATE DAY
SLOW MOTION. Monica's eyes are on fire as she races an
Oregon player for a loose ball. Both dive for it, slide
across the floor. Monica grabs it up, screams for a time-out
as her opponent tries to wrestle away the ball...
EXT. QUINCY/REGGIE'S SUITE - DUSK
Monica walks down the hall to Quincy's suite. The window is
open. The sounds of Nintendo are heard. She walks in
without knocking.
INT. QUINCY/REGGIE'S SUITE - LIVING ROOM - CONTINUOUS
Reggie sits on the couch with a TEAMMATE, playing Nintendo's
"Duck Hunt".
MONICA
Hey, y'all.
They barely give her a nod. Monica crosses into
INT. QUINCY/REGGIE'S ROOM - CONTINUOUS
Quincy stands at an ironing board, ironing a T-shirt.
MONICA
Hey.
QUINCY
Hey, what's up.
MONICA
You weren't at my game.
QUINCY
Yeah, sorry about that. I had this
meeting with this guy.
Quincy pulls on the T-shirt.
QUINCY (cont'd)
You win?
MONICA
Yeah, I hit a three at the buzzer.
QUINCY
The "man" again.
MONICA
(smiles)
Woman...
A knock at the front door. Quincy exits.
INT. LIVING ROOM - CONTINUOUS
Monica follows, then stops short. Kerry, the spandexed girl
from the party, stands in the doorway.
QUINCY
Hey, you.
KERRY
Hi.
Quincy gives her a hug. Monica stares at him in disbelief.
Reggie and his teammate smack each other, "Oh shit!"
QUINCY
Oh, Kerry, this is Monica. Monica,
Kerry.
MONICA
What the hell's going on?
QUINCY
We're going to get some food.
MONICA
Are you out of your mind?
KERRY
Maybe I should come back?
MONICA
No. You stay, I'll leave.
She storms out.
EXT. WRIGHT HOUSE - DRIVEWAY - DUSK
BAM! Monica slams her car door. Her face is a mask of anger
and confusion.
Camille exits the house, car keys in hand. She sees her.
CAMILLE
Monica. What are you doing here?
MONICA
Didn't know I needed a reason to come
home.
CAMILLE
Don't be defensive. I'm just surprised
to see you.
MONICA
Dad around?
CAMILLE
He's still at the bank.
Monica glowers. Camille looks at her.
CAMILLE (cont'd)
Everything okay?
MONICA
(clearly not)
Yeah.
Camille just nods, doesn't bother asking again.
CAMILLE
Well, I'm going to get dinner.
She pulls open her car door. Beat, then...
CAMILLE (cont'd)
It's just a game.
MONICA
What?
CAMILLE
Whenever you lose, you get this attitude.
But it's just a game.
Monica rolls her eyes, as her mom leaves.
EXT. DORMS - NIGHT
Quincy sits on the wall outside of Monica's dorm, as Monica
slowly makes her way up the walk. She sees him, stops.
QUINCY
Can we talk?
MONICA
Talk to your new girlfriend.
QUINCY
I just took the ho to Burger King,
alright.
MONICA
Cheap date.
QUINCY
Least she had time for me.
MONICA
So you fucked around to prove a point!
QUINCY
I just said I didn't fuck around. But
you got your head so far up your ass it
took a cheap date for you to notice me.
MONICA
What, "Q-man", did I forget to kiss your
ass like everybody else?
QUINCY
You forgot to be there.
MONICA
That night you wanted to talk about your
Dad I had a curfew. What was I supposed
to do?
QUINCY
Stay!
MONICA
If I stayed, I wouldn't be starting!
QUINCY
Least you got your priorities straight.
MONICA
I never asked you to choose.
QUINCY
Never had to.
MONICA
I'm a ballplayer. If anyone knows what
that means it should be you.
QUINCY
Well, if all you care about is
basketball, why you fucking me? Go fuck
Dick Vitale.
Monica punches the shit out of Quincy, then pushes past him.
Quincy grabs her arm, stopping her.
QUINCY (cont'd)
Hold up. I'm sorry, alright.
They stand, silent. Trying to come down from their anger.
MONICA
How do I know next time you're feeling
neglected or whatever, you're not going
to run around on me? If we're going to
be together I have to be able to trust
you.
QUINCY
I'm not asking for us to be together.
Monica flinches in shock.
MONICA
What?
QUINCY
I'm going through a lot of shit right
now, more than you have time for.
MONICA
How are you going to tell me what I have
time for? I mean, whatever I did...we
can fix this.
QUINCY
I don't think so.
MONICA
You don't think so?
QUINCY
Look, I'm entering the draft.
MONICA
You're what?
QUINCY
I decided to go pro. And who knows where
I'll end up, you know?
Monica's heart is sinking fast.
MONICA
When did you decide all this?
QUINCY
Few days ago.
MONICA
So that's it, just forget about us?
QUINCY
Damnitt, Monica. This ain't about us
anymore, it's about me.
Monica is crushed. Beat as, Quincy struggles to stay cold.
QUINCY (cont'd)
But, you know, I'd still like us to be
friends.
MONICA
Friends.
She fights back tears. Quincy has to look away. Monica
can't respond.
QUINCY
So...I guess I'll see you around.
MONICA
Uh huh.
Beat, then Quincy turns and walks away. Monica tries to
fight her tears but her pain, hurt and confusion are too
much. Finally, she gives in, and the tears fall.
FADE TO BLACK.
FOOTAGE. Press conference. Magic sits beside his wife
Cookie. He shocks the world as he announces his retirement
from basketball.
FADE IN:
TITLE CARD: "FOURTH QUARTER" then "1993"
ESTABLISHING SHOTS OF SPAIN
Madrid, Pampolona, the running of the bulls, old-world
architecture.
Finally, we rest on a large billboard, a photo of Monica in a
basketball uniform, drinking a Spanish soft-drink.
EXT. STREETS OF SPAIN - LATE DAY
Monica jogs down the congested cobble-stone street, a sports
bag over her shoulder. She is TWENTY-THREE. Half-assed
braids frame her matured features.
She passes store fronts, street vendors, and dodges
pedestrians, as she makes her way toward a large, older
arena.
EXT. ARENA - CONTINUOUS
An excited crowd jockeys for position at the front doors.
Above them, a huge banner reads "Campeonato de Europeo".
(European Championships".)
As Monica heads for the back entrance, a cheer goes up from a
large contingent in the crowd. Monica smiles, waves back.
TWO LITTLE GIRLS break from line, run to her.
LITTLE GIRLS
Baloncesto! Balencesto! (Basketball!
Basketball!)
MONICA
Oye.
They giggle, hold out a piece of paper and a pencil.
LITTLE GIRLS
Autografo.
As Monica signs her autograph, a tall woman carrying a
matching sports bag approaches. She is LUISA, Spanish, 33.
LUISA
(thick Spanish accent)
Monica. What is up?
MONICA
Oye, Luisa.
Monica hands the girls her autograph and they run off.
LUISA
Large game, no?
MONICA
Si. Large game.
They duck into the arena.
INT. ARENA - LOCKER ROOM - LATE DAY
Paint peels off the walls. Windows are broken overhead.
Monica sits alone at her locker, taping her own ankles. Her
TEN TEAMMATES, all from Spain, sit on the surrounding
benches, talking and joking among themselves in Spanish.
Monica is clearly an outsider.
COACH PARRA, Spanish, late 40's, enters.
COACH PARRA
Silenco!
The women immediately stop talking. COACH PARRA gives an
animated, impassioned speech in Spanish. Monica doesn't
understand a word, just continues taping her ankles.
Coach Parra finishes and the women clap, pumped up. Monica
turns to Luisa, seated next to her on the bench.
MONICA
What did he say?
LUISA
He say to give the ball to you.
INT. ARENA - NIGHT
The arena is PACKED with a raucous European crowd, chanting
and waving signs - the love their women's basketball.
Monica walks onto the floor, tucking her jersey into her
shorts. The uniforms are old-style - polyester and tight.
Her club's name is stitched on the front, "GODELLA".
As she hits center court, a smile suddenly breaks through her
game face. Standing opposite her, playing for the opposing
Italian club is Sidra, HER RIVAL FROM USC.
SIDRA
Well, what do you know.
MONICA
What's up, Sidra.
SIDRA
I'm gonna love winning this championship
in your house.
MONICA
How do you say "you're dreaming" in
Italian?
They move into position. The ball is tossed up. Italy winds
the tip and the ball is passed to Sidra.
Monica hounds her as she brings up the ball. Sidra shoves
her off and to the floor, and scores. No whistle. Women's
pro ball is at a whole other level. Bigger, better, tougher.
The ball is passed in to Monica. She drives down court, goes
up for a lay up. An Italian player shoves Monica in mid-air,
taking out her legs. Monica crashes on the hardwood.
A whistle. Monica lays still for a moment, then pushes
herself up and walks to the free-throw line without a word.
Without emotion.
INT. SPAIN - NIGHTCLUB - LATE NIGHT
A huge crowd dances fervently to the live Spanish music. In
the middle of the floor, the Spanish players are the life of
the party.
In a corner, Monica sits with Sidra, drinking and watching
the festivities. A large trophy sits on the table.
SIDRA
Can you take that damn thing off the
table.
MONICA
You mean my championship trophy? My bad.
Monica sets it down in the seat next to her, puts an arm
around it. Sidra shakes her head.
SIDRA
Still a cocky bitch.
Monica laughs. She downs her drink, motions to the waiter.
MONICA
Uno mas, por favor.
The waiter nods.
MONICA (cont'd)
Last I heard, you were playing in Sweden.
SIDRA
Yeah, four years ago. They had me
staying in this tiny-ass town with like
fifty people. I'm not playing, there was
about a thousand goats running around,
and it gets dark at four o'clock. Then
the whack club I'm on loses three games
in a row and I get blamed. So they fire
me.
MONICA
Just like that?
SIDRA
Yup. So I've been playing with this
Italian club the last three years.
MONICA
How's that been?
SIDRA
It's better. Even though the whole first
season my teammates didn't pass to me
cause they were mad "The American" was
making more money.
(smiles)
I led the team in rebounds cause it was
the only way I could touch the damn ball.
Monica laughs as the waiter brings her drink. She tries to
pay, but he just shakes his head, crosses away.
SIDRA (cont'd)
Most of us don't win championships our
first year overseas.
MONICA
Please, I went through the same drama as
everybody else. I mean, the first four
months, only person I could talk to was
this chick Luisa, who knew like ten words
of English from watching old "Dif'rent
Strokes" reruns. Swear to God, I had to
tell her if she said, "What you talking
bout, Willis?" one more time, I was
gonna kick her ass.
Sidra laughs. They watch the madness out on the dance floor.
SIDRA
So what are these Spanish guys like?
MONICA
I wouldn't know.
SIDRA
What? You've been over here seven months
and you ain't tapped anything?
MONICA
Just not my type, I guess.
SIDRA
Shoot, Italian boys love them some black
women. They can't get enough of me.
Monica smiles.
MONICA
You ever think about going back?
SIDRA
Sometimes. But what's the alternative,
not playing? You remember big Toni?
(off Monica's nod)
She quit last year, now she's working at
some bookstore. I mean, look at us.
They treat us like we're Hollywood stars
over here. We just played in the
championship game. It doesn't get much
sweeter than this.
Monica takes this in. Her eyes do not reflect someone on top
of the world. She takes a long drink.
INT. SPAIN - MONICA'S APARTMENT - LATE NIGHT
A small, sparse, one-bedroom. Sam, Diane and the rest of the
gang from "Cheers" fill the small TV screen that flickers in
the darkness. Their dialogue is dubbed in Spanish.
Monica sits on the floor, braiding her hair.
SHE WEARS BOXERS AND QUINCY'S OLD PRACTICE SHIRT. AFTER FIVE
YEARS, IT IS WELL-WORN.
Feelings of loneliness threaten to swallow her whole. She
looks out her window and sees her billboard, looming in the
distance. She just stares.
INT. LOS ANGELES FORUM - NIGHT
The crowd erupts as a Laker player dunks the ball on a fast
break.
ANGLE ON
Laker announcers CHICK HEARN and STU LANTZ.
CHICK HEARN
Stu, this game is in the refrigerator.
The door is closed, the lights are out,
the butter's hard and the Jell-Oooooo's
jigglin'.
STU LANTZ
And here come the subs.
ANGLE ON
Quincy pulls off his sweats and jogs onto the court with the
rest of the subs. He is twenty-three, a man. His goatee and
tired eyes make him look older. HE NOW WEARS NUMBER TWENTY-
ONE.
STU LANTZ (cont'd) (V.O.)
It's good to see these guys get a little
playing time. And the fans love it.
Quincy immediately gets a pass in the corner. He puts up a
quick three and it banks hard off the rim.
ANGLE ON
Chick and Stu.
CHICK HEARN
Three-pointer is off for the kid from
SC. Came out after his freshman year,
now in his fifth year with the league.
STU LANTZ
The son of Zeke McCall, played twelve
years with the Clippers.
CHICK HEARN
(nods)
Pretty good player. The kid's moved
around quite a bit, but he's hoping to
finally have a home with the Lakers.
ANGLE ON
Quincy steals the ball, has nothing but open court ahead of
him.
CHICK HEARN (cont'd) (V.O.)
Watch out, folks, it's showtime.
Quincy takes off from the hash-mark and throws down a monster
jam. He swings high off the rim. Too high. His hand slips
and he crashes to the floor. His knee twists at a sickening
angle.
The dwindling crowd gasps as Quincy clutches his left knee,
writhing in pain.
INT. DANIEL FREEMAN HOSPITAL - HALLWAY - LATE NIGHT
Zeke walks down the corridor, checking room numbers. He is
forty-five now. His slight paunch as become a roll.
He sees Nona exiting a room, with an empty water pitcher in
hand. Her hair is in locks.
ZEKE
Nona.
Nona looks over. Her eyes narrow.
ZEKE (cont'd)
How's he doing?
NONA
Not great.
ZEKE
What's that, not great?
NONA
The doctor'll be back in a minute.
ZEKE
Nona, please.
NONA
He tore his ACL.
Zeke's shoulders slump. Then he looks back at her.
ZEKE
Almost didn't recognize you with your
hair like that. How you been?
NONA
Happy. And he won't want to see you.
Nona walks over to a MAN standing nearby. He puts an arm
around her and they move down the hall. Zeke watches for a
beat, then pulls open Quincy's door, steps inside.
INT. QUINCY'S HOSPITAL ROOM - CONTINUOUS
Quincy lays in the bed. His knee is bandaged and propped up
by pillows. He stares out the window.
ZEKE
Hey, son.
Quincy turns, sees his father. He turns back to the window.
ZEKE (cont'd)
Well, you made SportsCenter.
QUINCY
What do you want?
ZEKE
Came by to check on you.
QUINCY
After five years.
ZEKE
Don't remember that being my fault.
Seems like you divorced me same time as
your mom.
QUINCY
Look, I'm busy.
ZEKE
I can see that. I know things look
pretty bleak right now, but you can't get
down on yourself.
QUINCY
I stopped taking your advice a long time
ago, or did you forget?
ZEKE
No.
QUINCY
Good.
ZEKE
Quincy. I know you left school early to
throw your middle finger up at me.
QUINCY
And now I'm paying for it, right? That
what this is about? "I told you so?"
ZEKE
You want me to fuck off?
QUINCY
Yeah.
ZEKE
Fine, I'll fuck off, but not til I say
something.
Silence. Then.
ZEKE (cont'd)
You're a better ballplayer than I ever
was. But you got a lot of other things
going for you. You're smart. I always
felt...I always knew that you could do
anything you wanted. You want to be a
ballplayer, be a ballplayer. Just know
you ain't like everybody else on that
court. You ain't like I was. You got
options. That's all I ever tried to show
you.
QUINCY
You're still trying to tell me what I
should and shouldn't do. How come you
couldn't be the man you kept trying to
make me?
Zeke stares at his son, wishing he could satisfy him with an
answer.
ZEKE
I just couldn't
With nothing left to say, Zeke pulls open the door and
leaves. Quincy stares at the door long after it closes.
DISSOLVE TO:
INT. QUINCY'S HOSPITAL ROOM - DAY
A NURSE enters, carrying a bouquet of flowers. She moves
past the empty bed, puts them on a table already overflowing
with flowers. She pulls open the blinds and light floods the
room. She crosses back out.
A toilet flush. Beat, then Quincy slowly hops out of the
bathroom, scratching his bare ass through the opening of his
gown.
VOICE (O.S.)
And I thought this was gonna be awkward.
Quincy whips around and is shocked to see Monica standing
there, laughing. She has clearly made an effort with her
appearance.
QUINCY
Monica?
He stumbles. Monica quickly goes to him, catches his arm
before he falls.
MONICA
I'm sorry.
Quincy stares at her, completely thrown. It's been five
years. An awkward beat.
MONICA (cont'd)
So, how you doing?
QUINCY
Alright. I heard you were in Spain.
MONICA
I was.
(smiling)
I see your peach fuzz finally grew in.
Quincy rubs his goatee self-consciously.
QUINCY
Just something I'm trying.
MONICA
No, it looks good. I mean, it's cool.
QUINCY
Thanks.
Quincy tries to adjust his footing and flinches in pain.
MONICA
Shouldn't you be lying down, or...
QUINCY
I'm alright. But you can sit.
MONICA
I'm fine. My dad said you tore your ACL.
QUINCY
Yup.
MONICA
What are the doctors saying?
QUINCY
(shrugs)
A lot of things. All I know is I'll be
back in six months.
MONICA
I thought a torn ACL was ten to twelve.
QUINCY
Not for Quincy McCall.
MONICA
I forgot, "Q-man."
An awkward beat.
QUINCY
So, how's pro-ball, Europe?
MONICA
We won the championship.
QUINCY
Still working on being the first girl in
the NBA?
MONICA
Well, I tried sneaking in after college,
but they found breasts during my
physical.
QUINCY
Funny. I never did.
MONICA
Kiss my ass.
Monica cracks up. Quincy laughs with her.
MONICA (cont'd)
I can't believe it's been five years.
Quincy nods.
QUINCY
Tried calling you a couple times.
MONICA
Oh yeah?
QUINCY
Wanted to give you props on making First
Team All-American. And then when Magic
retired, I tried calling you again.
MONICA
(lying)
Must have been my cheap-ass answering
machine. It was always messing up.
QUINCY
Figured it was something like that.
They look at each other. The moment is building.
QUINCY (cont'd)
So, when do you go back?
MONICA
Actually, I don't...
QUINCY
What do you mean?
MONICA
I'm tired of playing overseas. Thinking
about giving it a rest for awhile.
QUINCY
(completely thrown)
A rest?
MONICA
Yeah. Basketball just, isn't fun
anymore. You know?
QUINCY
No.
He stares at her. Into her.
FEMALE VOICE (O.S.)
Quincy!
Quincy and Monica turn, as KYRA KESSLER, black, 26 and
beautiful, rushes into the room. She wears a flight
attendant's uniform. She goes to Quincy, gives him a kiss.
Monica reacts.
KYRA
I'm so sorry. No one would switch
flights with me.
QUINCY
It's okay.
KYRA
Why are you up? Get in bed.
She takes Quincy's arm, moves him to the bed. Monica
watches.
KYRA (cont'd)
Tell me you're going to be okay.
QUINCY
I'm gonna be okay.
Kyra relaxes. Then she glances over at Monica.
KYRA
Hello.
QUINCY
Kyra, this is Monica. She, uh...
KYRA
(recognizing)
Monica. You grew up together, right?
Quincy's told me about you.
Monica smiles awkwardly.
QUINCY
This is Kyra. My fiance.
The shock hits too quick to cover. But Monica tries.
MONICA
Fiance. Wow. Congratulations.
KYRA
Thank you.
MONICA
I didn't know. Wow. That's great.
(then)
Well...I should go.
QUINCY
It means a lot that you came by.
KYRA
Yes, we appreciate that.
MONICA
Yeah, and Quincy, good luck with your
knee, and everything.
QUINCY
Thanks.
Monica forces one last smile, pulls open the door and leaves.
INT. HALLWAY - MOMENTS LATER
Monica walks down the hall, shell-shocked.
INT. WRIGHT HOUSE - KITCHEN - LATE DAY
Camille moves between the counter and the stove, whipping up
a couple pecan pies. Monica enters.
MONICA
Hey.
CAMILLE
Hi.
MONICA
Need any help?
CAMILLE
I can manage.
Monica nods and moves to the barstool.
CAMILLE (cont'd)
Your sister's bringing the baby over.
You should try to be here.
MONICA
Yeah. Can't wait to see him
(she falls silent, then)
I just saw Quincy.
CAMILLE
How is he?
MONICA
Engaged.
CAMILLE
To that stewardess?
MONICA
Yeah, you met her?
CAMILLE
His mother had a cookout a few weeks ago.
He could do a lot better if you ask me.
MONICA
Maybe she is.
Camille looks up, studies Monica for a moment.
CAMILLE
I thought you were over him.
Monica shrugs.
MONICA
So what do I do?
CAMILLE
Find out where they're registered and
send them a gift.
MONICA
(disgusted)
Whatever.
CAMILLE
You didn't want my opinion in the first
place, so why even ask?
MONICA
I asked but why does it always have to be
so damn prissy.
CAMILLE
Don't curse.
MONICA
There you go.
CAMILLE
What do you want me to tell you, Monica,
to go beat that girl up? To go have sex
with him? I'm not going to do that.
Yes, I believe thinking of other people
is important and yes I'd rather bake a
pie than shoot a dumb jump shot. If that
makes me too "prissy" for you, too bad.
Monica stares at her mother. There's no going back.
MONICA
So that's why we can't get along?
Because I'd rather shoot a "dumb" jump
shot?
CAMILLE
You're the one always turning your nose
up at me.
MONICA
No I don't.
CAMILLE
Child, please. Ever since you were
little you thought you were too good for
anything I had to say.
MONICA
I wasn't Lena. I didn't care about nail
polish or lip gloss or sneaking a spray
of your perfume.
CAMILLE
What was so wrong with wanting to teach
you the things I knew could help you?
MONICA
Because you're pushing me to be something
I'm not.
CAMILLE
So you're angry with me because you're
standing here with your hair combed and
wearing perfume?
Monica is busted. It takes her a moment to come back.
MONICA
I'm angry because I want a mother, not
Martha Stewart.
CAMILLE
Oh, yes. The superstar female athlete
whose mother is nothing but a housewife.
MONICA
That's not it.
CAMILLE
Don't tell me you aren't ashamed of that
because I know.
Monica stares at her mother.
MONICA
I remember when I was eight years old,
you spent like four hours cooking up this
fancy meal. All you'd let me and Lena do
was set the table. And I guess you and
Dad got your wires crossed or something
because he walks in with a couple of
pizzas. And you didn't say anything.
You just threw the whole meal into some
tupper-ware and tossed it in the fridge.
CAMILLE
I don't remember that.
MONICA
I do. You never stood up for yourself.
Ever. If I was ashamed, it was because
of that.
CAMILLE
That's ridiculous.
MONICA
What's ridiculous is not being a caterer
so your husband can feel like a man
knowing his woman's home cooking and
ironing his drawers.
WHAP! Camille's humiliation is immediate and she cuts off
Monica with a SLAP. Camille curses herself for losing it.
CAMILLE
Dammitt, Monica!
Monica is stunned, hurt.
MONICA
I'm sorry.
Camille stares at her daughter, devastated.
CAMILLE
Is that really all you think of me?
Monica can't answer.
CAMILLE (cont'd)
When I married your father, all I wanted
was a nice house with a big kitchen so I
could start my catering business. And
then I got pregnant with Lena, and then I
got pregnant with you. And I put it out
of my mind because that's what you did.
Monica stares at her mother.
CAMILLE (cont'd)
But you want to know what day I remember?
In high school, you getting ready for the
Spring Dance. I put my pearls around
your neck, told you you were beautiful
and you looked like you were going to
cry. That day I was happy I didn't have
a catering business to run off to. My
family had three meals a day, had someone
to pick up after them, and when my
daughters went to a dance, I helped them
get ready. That's what I came to care
about.
MONICA
(softly)
That's all you cared about. I must have
played in a thousand games and I can only
remember you being to two.
CAMILLE
You had your coaches and your father for
that stuff. It never mattered one way or
the other if I went to your games.
MONICA
It mattered, Mom.
Camille looks at her daughter and is struck by the need in
her eyes. Monica moves off the barstool and leaves.
INT. WRIGHT HOUSE - MONICA'S ROOM - DAY
The room looks exactly the same. Trophies, medals, plaques.
Basketball posters and her "strong women" wall.
Monica sits on her bed, staring up at a photo of her and
Quincy, tacked up to her bulletin board, amid other photos of
her childhood. THEY ARE EIGHTEEN, PLAYFULLY WRESTLING OVER A
BASKETBALL.
Monica slowly rises, starts taking her posters down.
INT. REHAB CENTER - DAY
Quincy sits on a leg extension machine, with his left leg
tucked under the padded bar. A TRAINER stands behind him.
Sweat and pain coat Quincy's face and scarred knee as he
slowly lifts the light weight again, and again, and again.
INT. BANK - DAY
A long line of customers shift impatiently during the noon-
time rush.
Monica sits with a BANK MANAGER at the "New Accounts" desk,
learning the ropes. Her hair is done, she wears a simple
dress. Behind her, hanging on the wall, are three framed
photos of the bank presidents. ONE OF THEM IS HER FATHER,
NATHAN.
INT. WRIGHT HOUSE - MONICA'S ROOM - NIGHT
Monica stands in her room, staring out at Quincy's window.
She watches as Quincy and Kyra pack up some of Quincy's
stuff. Quincy tries to take his basketball globe light. She
laughs, "Hell no."
INT. WRIGHT HOUSE - MONICA'S ROOM - DAY
Camille enters, moves to Monica's garbage can, dumps the
contents into her larger bag. Suddenly, she stops. She
reaches into the garbage and pulls out a crumpled picture.
Camille smooths it. It is the photo of Monica and Quincy at
eighteen, wrestling over a basketball.
CAMILLE STARES AT IT, TAKEN IN BY THE PURE JOY IN HER
DAUGHTER'S FACE. She sits down on Monica's bed, still
staring.
INT. FORUM - DAY
In the empty gym, Quincy jogs up and down the court. He is
still tentative on his knee, but he keeps jogging.
And then, slowly, the determination melts from his face. His
jog turns into a walk, and then he just...stops.
INT. MCCALL HOUSE - QUINCY'S ROOM - NIGHT
Quincy stands in the middle of his room, taking in his life.
Old, worn basketball posters still line the walls. Trophies
and awards. USC memorabilia. His basketball globe light.
He walks to his window, looks out at Monica's window. Her
room is dark.
DISSOLVE TO:
INT. QUINCY'S APARTMENT - BATHROOM - MORNING
Quincy tilts his face up to the shower head and rinses the
soap from his face. He hears the bathroom door open. He
shuts off the water and opens the curtain.
Kyra sits on the toilet, taking a pee. Quincy slams the
curtain closed.
QUINCY
Damn, girl.
KYRA
What?
QUINCY
I don't wanna see that.
KYRA
Get used to it, babe.
She flushes. Quincy steps out, grabs a towel. A long scar
runs across his knee cap.
QUINCY
Brother's gonna have to start locking
doors.
Kyra laughs as she buttons up her flight attendant's uniform.
They cross into:
INT. QUINCY'S APARTMENT - BEDROOM - CONTINUOUS
Kyra packs up a suitcase.
QUINCY
So how long is this trip?
KYRA
Four days.
Quincy nods.
KYRA (cont'd)
So are you going to be the kind of
husband who won't let his wife work?
QUINCY
Nah.
KYRA
(playfully)
Why not?
QUINCY
You might be the only one with a job.
KYRA
Baby, don't talk like that. Your rehab's
going well. You'll be back before you
know it.
QUINCY
Sometimes I wonder if it's worth it.
Busting my ass, for what?
KYRA
To do what you love.
QUINCY
I don't know sometimes.
KYRA
You're just scared. I know rehab is
hard, and you have to worry about whether
you'll be as good as you were but you
will be. I believe in you. You just
have to get back on the court. Like
you'd get back on a horse.
QUINCY
(beat)
A horse?
KYRA
Don't make fun of me when I'm being
wonderful and supportive.
(then)
You belong on the court. Just like I
belong in the stands, looking cute and
cheering you on.
She smiles, gives him a kiss, moves back to her packing. Off
Quincy:
INT. BANK - DAY
Monica sits at her desk in a blouse and skirt, punching
numbers into the computer. A man sits down in the chair
opposite her. Monica glances up. It's her father.
NATHAN
Hey, munchkin.
MONICA
Dad. What are you doing here?
NATHAN
I was upstairs for a meeting. I've been
hearing good things about you.
MONICA
That tends to happen when you're the
boss's daughter.
NATHAN
So how's the job going?
Monica forces a smile.
MONICA
You know.
Nathan looks at her, nods.
NATHAN
I think I know what the problem is.
He pulls a GARBAGE CAN HOOP from a plastic shopping bag.
Monica smiles. He attaches it to her garbage can.
NATHAN (cont'd)
There.
He shoots an ugly, imaginary shot. She laughs.
MONICA
You shoot like a girl.
NATHAN
I'll take that as a compliment.
He gives her a smile, and exits. Monica looks at the hoop,
then crumples a piece of paper.
MONICA
(whispering)
And she gets the steal. Monica goes one-
on-one against Jordan, she stops, pops...
Monica shoots. The paper drops through the net.
MONICA (cont'd)
(still whispering)
It's good! It's good!
She glances up, notices a few patrons watching her. Monica
quickly composes herself and goes back to her work.
EXT. WRIGHT AND MCCALL HOUSES - DUSK
Monica exits her car, after a long day at work. She wears
very low heels. But she still stumbles. She curses, then
hears a laugh.
She looks up - Quincy sits on the grassy hill above her
house.
QUINCY
I remember when your mom had to beat you
into a dress.
Monica smiles.
MONICA
You visiting?
QUINCY
(nods)
Kyra's gone for a couple days. Figured
I'd keep Mom company.
MONICA
Who's this guy I always see her around?
QUINCY
Darryl. He's alright, kinda corny.
MONICA
So...how's the knee?
QUINCY
Getting there.
MONICA
Strong enough to get you down the aisle?
QUINCY
Yeah. Two weeks.
(then)
I didn't get to send you an invitation,
but if you...
MONICA
That's okay. I'm probably, you know,
busy.
Quincy nods. Awkward beat.
QUINCY
Can I ask you something?
Monica looks at him.
QUINCY (cont'd)
You never told me why ball isn't fun
anymore.
MONICA
It just isn't.
QUINCY
Because I'm kinda feeling that way, too.
MONICA
You had a rough couple years, that's all.
QUINCY
That a nice way of saying I rode the
bench?
MONICA
And you tore up your knee. Rehab is
tough.
QUINCY
Nah. I haven't dribbled a ball in four
and a half months. Maybe I miss some of
the attention, but besides that...
MONICA
You're serious.
QUINCY
Seems like I needed a ball when I was
trying to be like my pops...or trying to
be better than him. Now, I kinda think I
need to try something else.
MONICA
Like what?
QUINCY
Maybe go back to school.
MONICA
Wow.
Monica stares at him, seeing a man in the boy she grew up
with. Quincy looks away, self-conscious.
QUINCY
I mean, Kyra hasn't heard the school
thing yet.
(then)
She'll probably say it's the painkillers
talking.
MONICA
It's a trip, you know? When you're a
kid, you see the life you want, and it
never crosses your mind that it's not
gonna turn out that way.
QUINCY
So why'd you give up ball?
MONICA
Why do you keep asking me that?
QUINCY
Cause I don't get it.
MONICA
Something was just missing.
QUINCY
What?
Monica is too hurt, too scared to tell him the truth.
MONICA
It doesn't matter, alright. Just leave
it alone.
QUINCY
Find.
Monica turns, crosses to her house. She stumbles on her
heels, kicks them off in frustration, and exits inside.
Quincy walks back to his curb.
ANGLE ON
Camille watches from the kitchen window
DISSOLVE TO:
EXT. WRIGHT HOUSE - PATIO - DUSK
Lena sits next to Camille. Her one year old son, L.P., sits
on the ground at her feet. Monica sits quietly nearby,
watching.
CAMILLE
So you're still breast-feeding?
LENA
The doctor said it was okay. Anyway, I'm
still trying to lose some of this baby
fat.
She quickly looks over at Monica.
LENA (cont'd)
Shut up.
Monica gives her a small smile. Camille looks down at L.P.
CAMILLE
You might want to put a jacket on him,
it's getting cold.
LENA
He's fine.
CAMILLE
(warning)
Okay.
Lena sighs, rolls her eyes. She picks up her son.
LENA
Come on, L.P. Grandma says it's too
cold.
She exits inside. Camille makes a face.
CAMILLE
God. "Grandma."
Monica smiles. And then silence. There is still so much
distance between them, so many misunderstanding. Camille
stares at her daughter. And then...
CAMILLE (cont'd)
You know, I'd probably be a lot more
"prissy" in the situation than you'd
like, but the thing I always admired that
drove me crazy, was the fight you had in
you.
MONICA
What are you talking about?
CAMILLE
When I said Quincy could do better, I was
thinking about you.
Monica stares at her mom. Camille stands and leaves.
INT. WRIGHT HOUSE - MONICA'S ROOM - NIGHT
Monica lies in her bed, staring up at the ceiling, unable to
sleep. Her mind races with thoughts of her past, her
choices, her future...
Suddenly, she climbs out of bed. She wears a tank-top and
pajama bottoms. She crosses to her window, pulls it open and
climbs out.
EXT. WRIGHT AND MCCALL HOUSES - CONTINUOUS
Monica drops down. She moves to Quincy's window and knocks
quietly. Beat, then Quincy appears. Bare-chested and in a
pair of shorts. He looks at her, then pulls open the window.
QUINCY
(half-asleep)
What's going on?
MONICA
We need to talk.
Quincy just looks at her.
MONICA (cont'd)
Please.
QUINCY
Hold on.
Quincy disappears for a moment, then returns, pulling on a T-
shirt. He climbs out of his window, drops to the ground.
Quincy looks at her.
MONICA
You asked me what was missing.
QUINCY
What?
MONICA
From basketball.
QUINCY
you woke me up to tell me that?
MONICA
It's not fun for me anymore because
you're missing.
Quincy stares at her.
MONICA (cont'd)
What I'm trying to say is --
QUINCY
I heard enough.
MONICA
What I'm trying to say is, I've loved you
since I was eleven and the shit won't go
away.
QUINCY
We haven't talked since college and now
you wait two weeks before my wedding to
say something like this?
MONICA
I know, I probably should have said it
two weeks ago.
Quincy doesn't even crack a smile. In fact, he glares.
QUINCY
You haven't changed. You still think the
sun rises and sets on your ass. Well,
guess what, it doesn't.
MONICA
Then why are you so upset?
QUINCY
Because you don't pull this on someone
who's about to get married.
MONICA
Better late than never, right?
QUINCY
Wrong.
Quincy starts back toward the window.
MONICA
I'll play you.
QUINCY
What?
MONICA
One game. One-on-one.
QUINCY
For what?
MONICA
Your heart.
Quincy looks at her in disbelief, then laughs at the
absurdity.
QUINCY
You're out of your mind.
MONICA
So you're gonna bitch up?
QUINCY
What's that supposed to be, psychology?
MONICA
I know why you broke up with me in
college. And not that what you did
wasn't messed up, but what I did was,
too. So if you forgive me, I'll forgive
you.
QUINCY
Monica, after that stuff with my dad, I
couldn't trust anybody, okay. I mean, I
was lost. So you are forgiven. But that
was five years ago. I moved on.
Monica moves past him, reaches through his window. She drops
back down, holding his basketball.
MONICA
Prove it.
She throws him the ball.
QUINCY
What will this prove?
MONICA
You once said the reason I beat you was
because you wanted me to.
QUINCY
So?
MONICA
So, if I win it's because deep down you
know you're about to make the biggest
mistake of your life, and deep down your
want me to stop you.
QUINCY
And what happens when you lose?
MONICA
If I lose, I'll buy you a wedding
present.
Quincy stares at her.
EXT. MCCALL HOUSE - DRIVEWAY - SHORT TIME LATER
Monica stands opposite Quincy. Both are suited up in
basketball gear.
They stare at each other, ready to go to war. Monica tosses
him the ball.
MONICA
Check.
Quincy tosses the ball back. Monica drives. Quincy's knee
is maybe at sixty percent and he can't keep up. She scores
easily.
She walks to the top of the driveway, tosses him the ball.
MONICA (cont'd)
One, zip. Check.
Quincy rubs his scarred knee, then passes it back.
The game continues. Monica owns the first five points easily
by exploiting Quincy's injury.
Monica drives for another lay-up. Quincy suddenly lets go of
his fear, leaps and swats her shot.
He grabs the rebound and lays it up. He nods intensely, as
he grabs the ball and walks back to the top of the key.
QUINCY
One, five. Check.
The game continues and now Quincy has the upper-hand, using
his size and strength. He scores seven straight points.
The score stays close. It is a sexually-charged battle of
wills -- Quincy pulls off his sweat-soaked shirt. Their
bodies collide as they wrestle for the ball. Monica yanks
off her jersey in frustration. Her ass bumps into his hips
as she backs him in. Her hands slide across his chest as she
guards him...
Finally, the score hits nine, nine. Monica slowly walks to
the top of the key.
MONICA
Nine, up. Point.
She tosses Quincy the ball.
MONICA (cont'd)
Check.
Quincy tosses the ball back, drops low on defense. Monica
fakes an outside shot and Quincy bites. Monica drives around
him. SHE HAS A WIDE-OPEN LAY-UP. SHE PUTS IT UP..AND IT
ROLLS OFF THE RIM. Monica can't believe it.
Quincy grabs the loose ball and clears it. He stares at
Monica as he dribbles in front of her. She stares back.
He breaks for the basket. Monica stays with him. He goes
up. Monica jumps, desperately tries to block his shot.
Quincy dunks on her, knocking her to the ground. He lets go
of the rim, and tumbles to the ground also. GAME OVER.
Silence. Quincy stares at her. Monica looks back. Then:
QUINCY
(pointed)
All's fair in love and basketball, right?
Monica struggles to fight back her tears as she picks herself up.
She slowly walks back toward her house. And then:
QUINCY (cont'd)
Hey.
Monica slowly stops, turns.
QUINCY (cont'd)
Double or nothing.
Monica stares at him, wonders if she heard right. Quincy
limps to his feet, picks up the ball and holds it out to her.
Monica slowly walks back to him. They stare at each other.
No more egos, no more bullshit. Just love.
In the moonlight, on the blacktop, they kiss...
FADE TO BLACK.
FADE IN:
INT. LOS ANGELES FORUM - NIGHT
Music is blasting, banners are waving, crowd is screaming.
Magic Johnson sits in a floor seat, watching the game. A
REPORTER interviews him.
SPORTS REPORTER
So, Magic, are you contemplating another
comeback?
MAGIC
(laughs)
No more comebacks. Tonight I'm just
enjoying being a spectator.
Behind him, in a second row seat, a ONE YEAR BLACK GIRL sits
in a lap, bouncing, watching feet and legs ballin' on the
court.
Quincy leans down, gives the little girl a kiss, then looks
out at the court. It's the Los Angeles Sparks and the New
York Liberty. The WNBA.
On the court, the women line up for a free-throw.
QUINCY
Let's go, McCall!
Monica, sporting a uniform with Wright-McCall on the back and
the number thirty-two, looks over. Quincy takes their
daughter's hand and waves it.
QUINCY (cont'd)
Go Mommy.
Monica smiles back, then steps to the line. The referee
tosses her the ball. Monica stares at the basket, then
bounces the ball twice, licks her lips and shoots.
FADE TO BLACK.
"THAT'S GAME"
END CREDITS
| 
