Legend Of Bagger Vance Script - Dialogue Transcript

Voila! Finally, the Legend Of Bagger Vance script is here for all you quotes spouting fans of the Matt Damon and Will Smith golf movie.  This script is a transcript that was painstakingly transcribed using the screenplay and/or viewings of Legend Of Bagger Vance. I know, I know, I still need to get the cast names in there and I'll be eternally tweaking it, so if you have any corrections, feel free to drop me a line. You won't hurt my feelings. Honest.

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Legend Of Bagger Vance Script


            A little bit of magic time.

            I feel it.

            Yes, sir.

            Terrific shot! I'm in the goddamn woods again.

            Goddamn it.

            Damn game.

            Damn it.

            I spend more time in the trees than the squirrels.

            Wizard Two? Why not?

            Not again.

            I've had five heart attacks in the last    years.

            My first was on a golf course in South Carolina.

            It wasn't that bad. A couple of doglegs that were more dog than leg.

            All in all, it was playable.

            Assuming you didn't die on the second hole.

            The second coronary was at Augusta, where they had the Masters.

            Went down on the first fairway.

            Good thing too, because those greens would have been the end of me anyway.

            My wife used to ask me before she passed on:

            Why do I play a game that seems destined to kill me?

            It all started back in     ...

            ... when I was just a youngster in Savannah, Georgia.

            Jones and Hagen are really at it. Neck and neck.

            - Nuts! - Remember that drive he hit?

            - Was it    ? - More like     with the roll.

            I don't care how good they are.

            Junuh could beat them with his eyes closed.

            He won three times in a row.

            When I was growing up, every town had its heroes.

            Ours was Rannulph Junuh.

            An athlete who was a born winner.

            How I wanted to be just like him.

            Junuh has the most difficult shot in the history of golf.

            He must sink this shot from     yards to win the championship.

            He steps up to the ball.

            The crowd is hushed in anticipation.

            Can he make this miracle shot?

            And he swings!

            Fore! Watch your heads!

            - Where did that come from? - I don't know!

            There he is!

            I'd never seen him play since it was before I was born...

            ... but it was said Junuh was on track to being the greatest golfer ever.

            "Titanic off the tee." "Approach shots which fell to earth."

            As Sam Snead once put it, "Like a butterfly with sore feet."

            He won just about everything.

            But even he would say his most significant victory...

            ... was winning the heart of Adele Invergordon.

            Daughter of the wealthiest man in Savannah.

            But fate plays funny tricks.

            It was a patriotic call to arms...

            ... to fight the war to end all wars.

            Junuh and everyone in town believed it was his destiny...

            ... to lead the young men of Savannah into battle.

            It was to be his crowning glory.

            But nothing could have prepared him or anyone...

            ... for the shock and sorrow of what was to come.

            - Positions. - Ready, captain.

            - Get ready. Positions. - Ready, sir.

            Prepare to advance.


            ...advance! - Advance!

              Confused, broken...

              ... and unable to face a return to a hero's welcome...

              ... Junuh just disappeared.

              Hoping to forget...

              ... and to be forgotten.

              But Adele, being a woman of the South, had survived worse than desertion.

              She moved on with her life, dedicating herself to her father's dream.

              This is the most magnificent golf resort on God's earth...

              ... and I'm building it here in Savannah.

              Krewe Island. Legacy to my sweet Adele.

              And we'd like to use all of you as our main suppliers.

              Thank you, that's quite an honor.

              I wouldn't dream of anything but.

              People don't obey, we'll repeal.

              We can't repeal the Commandments, they don't obey that.

              Yet no law on the statute book...

              I was    years old when Junuh came home.


              Less than a year later, the Great Depression hit Savannah.

              Jobs were lost. Stores and banks were shut for good.

              And John Invergordon, having spent his last dime on his great dream...

              ... opened Krewe Island on what should have been a glorious spring day.

              It might not have been a shot heard around the world...

              Oh, Daddy.

              ... but it reached every corner of Savannah.


              I'll be putting some doors and closets in the parlor.

              With any luck, we can have boarders within a few weeks.

              Hardy, can you share your room with Cara Mae?

              What about the store?

              Oh, Jesus.

              I've died and gone to hell.

              It's not as if you have a choice. Your golf resort is dead and gone.

              You've got no gumption, Neskaloosa.

              My gumption is not the subject.

              Then what is the subject?

              If it's your offer to take it for one-tenth of what my father spent...

              You're lucky to get a dime on the dollar.

              Just so you can turn around and resell it...

              ...to some Carolina paper mill for a tidy profit?

              That you've likely made the deal already is not my problem.

              We should come back when the shock of your father's passing isn't so...


              Don't bother. I'm not selling.

              You got a stack of debts that would fill the Cotton Exchange.

              And I intend to pay them off... in time.

              With what? Ball tokens?

              With the money people will spend once they know it's the premier resort.

              Did I miss something? Or are we not in the midst of a Great Depression?

              People still have money and I'll make sure they know...

              How exactly do you intend to accomplish that?


              - Well, how? - How?

              I'll tell you how.

              I'll have the greatest exhibition match ever held...

              ...on the greatest golf course ever built.

              Bobby Jones...

              ...will be playing Walter Hagen...

              ...for $      .

              - What? - $      ? You can't be serious.

              $       for one weekend?

              I'd make it more, gentlemen...

              ...but that's about all I believe I can raise...

              ...if I sell everything I own on this earth.

              Except Krewe Island.

              Jones and Hagen are coming to Krewe Island?

              To play an exhibition match for    grand?

              That's correct.

              They don't know it yet, but that's what they'll be doing.

              Are you off your rocker?

              Nobody has the right to call Krewe Island "Invergordon's Folly".

              Nobody. Good day, gentlemen.


              Nobody holds your father responsible for this depression!

              You're a damn fool!

              Save your breath, judge. She'll sell.

              You really think Jones and Hagen...

              ... will come to Krewe Island just because she wants them to?

              All four golf championships in a single year.

              The Grand Slam. Simply amazing.

              I don't believe that's been done in the history of golf.

              No, it...

              It takes my breath away.

              You don't impress me as someone who loses her breath.

              Did you know that reprobate, Mr. Walter Hagen...

              ...who I hear spends every minute chasing after women...

              ...has been approached to play in the $      Krewe Island exhibition match?

              No, I didn't.

              But how is this an urgent matter for the American Red Cross?

              - Did I say that? - At the front door.

              May I speak candidly, Mr. Jones?

              I wish you would.

              I've come here to see you because...

              ...to the South, you're a hero.

              They see you as a young god.

              Brave, valiant...


              One of the greatest golfers in the world today.

              I would say "the greatest golfer"...

              ...were it not for that incident last year...

              ...when Mr. Hagen whupped you by    strokes on your very own course.

              You say he's been invited to play at Krewe Island?

              She has a remarkable talent, Mr. Hagen.

              I hit the ball.

              I wonder if you might excuse us for a minute, Anna Mae?

              I won't be long.

              A charming woman. Although, she gave me quite a fright.

              With so much weight in front, I swore she'd topple over...

              ...before she ever got to her knees.

              I do admire a man with your...


              The South is in such an unfortunate place these days...

              ...and Savannah most of all.

              Memories of our defeat in the war between the States still linger...

              ...and with them, the defeated men who returned...

              ...lacking that vigor we women associate with your gender.

              Now, sadly, here is Savannah, teeming with the most attractive young women...

              ...and nobody, absolutely nobody, to satisfy them.

              Except for Bobby Jones, who will be playing in our Krewe Island tournament.

              He says, "It don't matter what it is, it won't hurt you."

              "You just pop one in your mouth and you chew."

              I'm pleased to announce Bobby Jones and Walter Hagen...

              ...have accepted my golfing invitation...

              ...with enthusiasm.

              First, of course...

              ...Miss Adele Invergordon's commitment to her father's dream.

              Not one to concede defeat easily...

              ... Neskaloosa engineered an uprising against the tournament.

              You boys think I've been drinking too much blackjack tea...

              ...but they'll be parking in our streets...

              ...and taxing the limits of our constabulary...

              Do you think one of them damn rich Yankees...

              ...gives a hoot about Savannah or anybody in it?

              Now, now.

              Now, we need the Yankees...

              ...but we also need someone from Savannah in the match.

              One of us giving them...

              ...a run for their money. Then they'll know what we're made of.

              We need someone from Savannah playing in our tournament!

              What about Dougal McDermott?

              He's a Scot and only comes into town to get drunk!

              - Bobby Jones is from Atlanta! - I said Savannah!

              - The South. The real South. - Yeah.

              Neskaloosa knew the golden rule of politics better than anyone.

              If you can't beat them, lead them.

              All right, hold it! Hold it, everyone!

              There's one person we're forgetting.

              We all know there's one man who hits gargantuan drives off the tee...

              ...and has a lock-picker's touch on the greens...

              ...Savannah's own Enderby "Cottonmouth" Conyngham!

              Wait a minute!

              He's    years old!

              He'd need one caddy to carry his clubs, and two to carry him!

              Junuh could whup them both.

              You're off your rocker. He couldn't whup a dead possum in a sack.

              - That ain't true. - Oh, yeah?

              What about Captain Junuh?

              - Who? - Captain Junuh.

              My Dad says he's the greatest golfer Savannah ever had!

              - Hardy. - Well, it's true!

              You said it a hundred times!

              Sit down, son.

              The boy's got a point!

              - Junuh's born and bred in Savannah. - Exactly!

              That is the point!

              - What ever happened to him? - He gave up golf.

              Forget Junuh, assuming you can locate his whereabouts.

              I hear he's so far gone...

              ...he wouldn't know a putter from a pussy willow.

              I know where to find him!

              You find him, Hardy, and we will be there.

              Fly, lad...

              ...with winged sandals on your feet!

              If I live to be      which doesn't seem likely...

              ... I'll never know where I got the courage to call out.

              But once I did, I wasn't backing down.

              This could've been the stupidest idea I've ever had.

              Captain Junuh?

              Captain Junuh?

              This is Hardy Greaves, sir.

              Jacks. All you be holding on guts.

              I need new shoes.

              You're crazy. Get out of here with that.

              Make sure you guys save some money for me.

              He ain't gonna win.

              What have we here?

              Well, well.

              Look like we got a new card player, gents.

              It's all right. Don't be scared.

              I ain't scared.

              I've seen men drunk plenty of times.

              - What do they look like? - It ain't much.

              Least not so much as they seem to think.

              But it don't scare me none.

              Gentlemen, this is the only male in Chatham County who isn't full of shit.

              What's your name, son?

              Hardy. Hardy Greaves.

              - You Frank Greaves' boy? - Yes, sir.

              What brings you here, Hardy?

              Maybe I better come back when you're not so busy.


              I thought you were gonna say "drunk".

              But I'm not busy and I'm not drunk.

              There ain't enough whiskey in Georgia to get me drunk enough.

              How drunk is drunk enough, Captain Junuh?

              Good question. Sit over here, I'll tell you what drunk enough is.

              Aaron, can you find the young man a bottle of Nehi?

              I expect I could...

              ...just as long as I takes my money with me.

              Now the question on the table...

              ...is how drunk is drunk enough?

              And the answer is, it's all a matter of brain cells.

              Brain cells?

              That's right. Every drink of liquor you take kills      brain cells.

              But that don't matter, we got billions more.

              First the sadness cells die, so you smile real big.

              Then the quiet cells go, so you talk real loud for no reason at all.

              That's okay, because the stupid cells go next...

              ...so everything you say is real smart.

              And finally...

              ...come the memory cells.

              These are tough sons of bitches to kill.

              There's a golf match at Krewe Island between Bobby Jones and Walter Hagen.

              And there was a meeting to see who would play for Savannah.

              I said you would.

              That's why I'm here, so you can beat Jones and Hagen.

              Hell, I'm drunker than I thought.

              - I'll caddy for you. - You'll caddy for me...

              ...against Jones and Hagen? - Yes, sir!

              I will too.

              Aaron will carry the clubs, I'll carry the balls.

              And I'll carry the tees.

              And I'll carry Junuh!

              I wasn't joking.

              I heard my Dad tell how you won every golf tournament in the South.

              And how you hit a drive so long they made you wait    minutes...

              ...to measure it for a record.

              And how you swing righty but you were in the woods once...

              ...and you had no room to swing righty so you borrowed a lefty club...

              ...and hit the ball   inches from the hole.

              It's time for you to go home.

              I ain't going!

              Suit yourself, because I'm going to bed.

              - Night, gentlemen. - See you later.

              What are you doing in my house?

              Trespassing, but on great importance to Savannah herself.

              Some delegate. Isn't it past his bedtime?

              Isaiah   : : "And a little child shall lead them."

              This is a once in a lifetime opportunity, Junuh.

              So, what's in it for you?

              Pride in the great city of Savannah so close to my heart.

              So close to all our hearts.

              You're wasting your time. I'm not playing.

              Why is that?

              I lost my swing.

              Then find it!

              Goddamn it! Because you're playing. That's all there is to it!

              Savannah needs you.

              - Get McDermott. He'll play. - Balls!

              We don't need some sawed-off Scotsman...

              ...pooping drives out    yards!

              We need a man with thunder in his fist!

              A hero to boom that pill out past those golfing gods!

              - We need a knight! - You're our gentle-born chevalier.

              That's one hell of a speech, fellas.

              I don't take no for an answer.

              Well, you'll have to because I'm not playing.

              Now get out.

              Something you picked up on your travels?

              He's not mine.

              A little young for a drinking companion, don't you think?

              So, Adele, what can I do for you?

              - I think you know why I'm here. - I do.

              A little late to be out looking for romance, isn't it?

              Would that do it?

              Would you play in the match if I had sex with you?

              Yeah, that would do it.

              Well, that's good, Junuh.

              We've seen each other so infrequently since your return...

              ...I thought this was gonna be more difficult.

              Where shall we do it?

              Right here is fine.

              Don't worry, he's out like a light.

              Take an earthquake to wake him up.

              For an earthquake, you'd have to play many more tournaments and do very well.


              How do you suggest we begin?

              Shall I just run and jump on you...

              ...or would you like preliminary romancing.

              Romancing sounds good.

              Very well, then.

              Here's one short kiss.

              It is, I'm afraid, all the romancing I have in me at this time.

              I do hope I haven't given the impression that I'm crying over us.

              Because I'm not.

              You're not?

              No, I'm not.

              I'm crying over Savannah.


              Over her pain, and the pain of her people.

              - You're in tears over Savannah? - I am.

              I truly am.

              Then who'd you take your clothes off for? Chattanooga?


              This certainly has been a colossal waste of time.

              I didn't ask you to come here.

              No, you certainly did not.

              You ever get tired of sitting around feeling sorry for yourself...

              ...a little golf might do you some good.

              I've lost my swing.


              Where did it go?

              You can open your eyes now, Hardy.

              Your education is over.

              Go on home now.

              Who's that?

              Just me.

              A man trying to find somewhere to rest his tired feet...

              ...taking in some of God's glories. My, what a night!

              I could've killed you out there.

              No, sir. I set myself directly in front of you.

              Judging by how you hit them balls, I figured I'd be out of harm's way.

              Excuse me, sir.

              They say you can tell a player by his grip.

              If you want some food or something, go into the house, help yourself.

              Oh, well, thank you kindly, sir.

              I always felt a man's...

              ...grip on his club just like a grip on his world.

              - Is there something you want? - Five dollars guaranteed.

              Guaranteed for what?

              Big match coming up, Mr. Jones, Mr. Hagen.

              Fella gonna be needing a caddy.

              You're a caddy?

              Well, that depends. You're a golfer?

              I don't need a caddy. I'm not playing.

              I don't play anymore at all.

              Oh. Well, thank you, sir.

              I take you up on that food you offered.

              - All right. - Evening, sir.

              Don't make no sense is all.

              Man say he don't play, yet he out here...

              ...this shade of night hitting balls where he can't see them.

              I've done things that have made less sense.

              As we all have.

              For $  guaranteed, I'm offering you my caddy services.

              For $ ? You know the winner gets $      ...

              ...the caddy's cut is    percent, so that's $     .

              - I take $  guaranteed. - You don't want $     ?

              You said you ain't even playing...

              ...and Lord knows how awful you gonna look if you do.

              So $  sound pretty good from where I'm sitting.

              Rhythm of the game like the rhythm of life.


              - Here. - Oh, no, sir, I don't...

              Go on.

              - Go ahead. - Well, thank you, sir.

              You know, some folks say...

              ...put the ball in the front of your stance.

              Others say you should...

              You gonna hit the ball or dance with it?

              I'm kind of partial to dancing. Me and this gal...

              Hit the ball.

              - So, you're a golfer. - No. I don't play golf.

              Give me the damn club.

              See, the trick is to find your swing.

              What did you say?

              You lost your swing. We got to go find it.

              Now somewhere in the harmony of all that is...

              ...all that was...

              ...all that will be.

              I ain't seen a man hit like that since the North-South Championship in     .

              They stopped play for    minutes to measure how far it went.

              Bagger Vance the name.

              Hit a few more.

              And that, they say, is how Bagger Vance became Junuh's caddy.

              Yeah, give me one more like that.

              Just like that one there.

              I'm telling you the truth, Wilbur Charles.

              She was down to her panties and brassiere.

              And you were in the room watching?

              You think we're so stupid...

              ...we'd believe Miss Adele...

              ...get down to her skivvies with you in the room?

              It's the God's honest truth, Eugene.

              Scalp me, shrink my head and roast it if that ain't exactly what happened.

              She thought I was asleep the whole time.

              - That ain't all. Junuh's gonna play. - He said that?

              Not in so many words, but...

              Look over there!

              Ain't that Miss Adele now, across the street?

              She went into Louder's Notions.

              I could swear it's her. I'd know that figure anywhere.

              Well, as far as Junuh is concerned, I guess that's about it.

              If we don't have someone from Savannah, I won't support this match.

              - There must be plenty... - All right!

              I'll play in your damn golf match.

              I should've let you finish. Now I got nothing to show for it.

              For the life of me, I have no idea what you're referring to.

              - I can explain it to them... - I don't think that's necessary!

              God bless Savannah.

              The day Jones and Hagen arrived in Savannah was declared a holiday.

              Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the first...

              That's O.B. Keeler. He writes for the "Atlanta Journal".

              He goes wherever Bobby Jones goes.

              And that's Walter Hagen's man, Spec Hammond.

              They say Hagen won't play without him.

              That's Grantland Rice, the most powerful sports writer in the country.

              He's staying at our boarding house, because he's nobody's man.

              Mr. Robert Tyra Jones Jr. Of Atlanta, Georgia.

              Mr. Jones has won    national championships...

              ...including four U.S. Opens and five U.S. Amateurs.

              He has also won all three British Opens in which he has played.

              For the first time in history, last year, won the Grand Slam.

              All four major golf championships in a single year.

              But what is not well known, at the very same time...

              ...he won his championships...

              ...Mr. Jones earned a degree in Engineering...

              ...from Georgia Tech. A degree in English from Harvard...

              ...and a law degree...

              ...from Emory University in Georgia, all with distinction.

              Mr. Walter Hagen.

              Mr. Hagen has won    national championships, including...

              ...four British Opens and five PGAs.

              And in one stretch...

              ...Mr. Hagen won    straight professional championships.

              Nice work!

              Mr. Rannulph Junuh.

              Walter, I think we're the underdogs.

              Born and bred in Savannah, Georgia!

              Mr. Junuh won the Georgia Amateur at the age of    making him...

              ...the youngest man to ever do so.

              And until he left for the war was considered...

              ...the South's premier golfer.

              Mr. Junuh returned from the war a hero...

              ...decorated with the medal of honor...

              ...for surviving a deadly mission in which...


              The rest of his company were tragically defeated.

              Makes you think twice about stepping on his ball.

              Mr. Hagen!

              Ladies and gentlemen...

              ...Bobby Jones, Walter Hagen, and our very own, Rannulph Junuh!

              On behalf of the great city of Savannah...

              Sure is some storm brewing.

              - So where're you off to? - However far it takes.

              You don't expect me to stay around here, do you?

              Not me. I consider it a great miracle you was even there at all today.

              Let me help you with these things.

              You heard Adele. Jones never finished lower than second in any tournament.

              I believe she said he finished lower than second once.

              Must have been the week he took his law exams.

              Yeah, I believe it was.

              Will you be needing these shoes, Mr. Junuh?

              Look like they're just my size.

              - Keep them. - Thank you kindly, sir.

              Sure is some storm heading this way.

              It's a pleasure to welcome you to our home.

              It's a pleasure to be here, ma'am. Thank you.

              Hardy, take his belongings to his room, then I got chores for you.


              Expect this is the most exciting sports event ever, ain't it, Mr. Rice?

              - Why is that, son? - Why?

              Because of Jones and Hagen. They's out for blood.

              Oh, I didn't come for Jones or Hagen. I came for Rannulph Junuh.

              You come all the way down from New York City to see Junuh?

              I saw Junuh play once, then he disappeared.

              I'd love to see him play, especially against Jones and Hagen.

              Go get them, Junuh! Go get them!

              God bless you, Junuh! Show them what Savannah's made of!

              - Go get them, Junuh! - Give them hell!

              Give them hell.

              Junuh, make us proud!


              I take that you was interested in being Mr. Junuh's fore caddy.

              - No. - No?

              - No. - No?

              Well, maybe I was. But I guess I just ain't got the nerve to ask you yet.

              I ain't got time till you does, so here's what I propose...

              ...I'll assume that the moment you gets the nerve to ask...

              ...will be the same moment I decide I tell you, "Yeah."

              How'd that suit you?

              - That suits me just fine, sir. - Folks call me Bagger.

              Yes, sir, Bagger, sir.

              Soon as you're through cleaning Mr. Junuh's shoes...

              ...we'll measure out on the course.

              Junuh knew that if he were to have any chance in the tournament...

              ... he had no choice but to come to terms with his demons.

              The only question in his mind was...

              ... which demon gave him the most aggravation:

              Bagger Vance or Miss Adele Invergordon?

              Mr. Jones?

              Could you hold, please?

              - Thank you very much, Mr. Jones. - Thank you.

              Oh, Mr. Hagen.

              How are you this evening?

              Good time, now.

              Very nice. Thank you very much, Mr. Hagen.

              Make sure you keep this area clear.

              Dance and a picture, sir?

              Thank you very much.

              That's it. Very nice. Look right over here.

              Right here. Big smile. Don't stop, stay together.

              Just pretend there's music.

              Keep going, keep going! Look right over here. Okay.

              Give me a smile.

              Thank you very much.

              - May I have this dance? - Of course.


              Little shorter.

              How's that?

              Good. One stride equals a yard.

              Go on over to the tee and start counting.

              Top golfers try to get a leg up on the competition...

              ... by having the men they trust sneak on the course...

              ... and do their own measurements.

              So Bagger and I walked the course that night, measuring away.

              Bagger never wrote down a number. He filed it all in his head.

              Hit one a little harder.

              Go and do that again.

              Right here is where this game is won. Right here on the green.

              First you got to see it.

              Sun gonna be there in the morning.

              Over there in the afternoon.

              Funny thing is, the blades of grass gonna follow the sun.

              The grain is gonna shift.

              That same putt...

              ...gonna go one way in the morning, the other in the afternoon.

              One way in the morning, the other in the afternoon. You see that?

              A golf course put folk through quite a punishment.

              It lives and breathes just like us.

              You think Junuh can win?

              Yeah, if he can find his authentic swing.


              Go and hit one more for me.

              Yep, inside each and every one of us is one true, authentic swing.

              Something we was born with, that's ours...

              ...and ours alone. Something can't be taught to you or learned.

              Something that got to be remembered.

              Over time, the world can rob us of that swing...

              ...and get buried inside us under...

              ...all our woulda's and coulda's, and shoulda's.

              Some folk even forget what their swing was like.

              Some folk even forget what their swing was like.

              - You keep swinging. - But I don't have any balls.

              Don't worry about the ball or where it's gonna go...

              Just swing the club.

              Close your eyes.

              - Close my... - You can't make that ball go in.

              You have to let it.

              Feel the club. Feel the weight of the club.

              A deep perfect line. Dropping in, soft as butter.

              Listen to the sounds of the night. Keep swinging that club.

              Feel the breeze coming off the sea.

              Inside every one of us is one true, authentic swing.

              Keep swinging that club...

              ...until you're part of the whole thing.

              Something we was born with.

              - That's good. Listen to the night. - I don't feel a thing.

              Just keep swinging that club until you're part of the whole thing.

              That's a good thing.

              Can you see it?

              - All right, time to go. - Why?

              They say that God is happiest when His children are at play.

              Well, it certainly seemed God was in fine spirits...

              ... when the day of the match dawned.

              People came from far and wide.

              There wasn't a room to be found in a boarding house...

              ... or the Krewe Island Hotel.

              The match was designed as the ultimate championship.

              Thirty-six holes on Saturday...

              ... followed by another grueling    holes on Sunday.

              - Where's Hagen? - Oh, he'll be here.

              Hello, Mr. Junuh. Bob, how are you?

              They do put on a splendid show, don't they?

              Later, they'll even hit some golf balls.

              Ladies and gentlemen.

              By virtue of the draw...

              ...Mr. Jones will hit first...

              ...Mr. Hagen second...

              ...and then Mr. Junuh.

              Then suddenly, I felt as if I could hear the earth breathing beneath me.

              Junuh hit a good opening drive, and I was sure he was on his way.

              Hard to imagine three more different approaches to the game of golf.

              Bobby Jones' swing was a study of grace in motion.

              He had a way of making the difficult shots look easy...

              ... and the easy shots look even easier.

              Hagen, on the other hand...

              ... hit more bad shots in a single game than most golfers do in a season.

              But Hagen had long ago learned one thing:

              Three lousy shots and one brilliant shot can still make par.

              And Junuh? Well, even now...

              ... I can't think of it without wincing.

              - Beach. - Go ball, go!

              Yep. Beach.

              He missed it.

              We sure got lovely weather for it, though.

              Let me get that from you, sir.

              Any ideas?

              About what?

              Could you give me a club?

              That's a good one.

              What the hell is wrong with his grip?

              By the end of five holes, Junuh was five strokes behind...

              ... with    holes to go.

              Things would've been much worse if it weren't for Junuh's shot on the sixth.

              It was a birdie. One stroke under par for the hole...

              ... moving him to four behind Jones and Hagen...

              ... and his only hope for the entire round.

              I think I've found my game.

              Good news. Now we got to figure out what that game is.

              By the   th tee, at the close of the morning round...

              ... Jones and Hagen were neck and neck.

              And as for Junuh...

              This is becoming embarrassing.

              Oh, no, sir. It's been embarrassing for quite some time now.

              Can I make a suggestion to you?

              What now?

              Why don't you hook it out of bounds?

              Carve it out over them pretty trees into the ocean.

              Really, do what you've been doing.

              Then, you'll be so far out the match...

              ...me and you can relax and enjoy ourselves.


              What you waiting for? Go on.

              Hook it to hell. Put yourself out your misery.

              You want to quit?

              You can creep off somewhere, I'll tell folk you took sick.

              Truth be told, ain't nobody gonna object.

              Fact, they probably be happy as bugs in a bake shop see you pack up.

              You know I can't quit.

              I know.

              Just making sure you know it too.

              I can't stand it!

              Man alive! The fairway!

              Hello, Bagger. Hello, Mr. Bagger Vance!

              I want a good explanation. What in God's green earth are you telling him?

              I'd be appreciative if we talk about this later. Right now I'm busy.

              You have done a hell of a job so far.

              Let me talk to him. Mr. Vance, what the judge is trying to determine is...

              ...your strategy for helping poor Mr. Junuh find his game, because...

              ...you seem to know as much about caddying as I do driving a locomotive.

              You all want to know my strategy?

              Right now my player is a little confused.

              See, he still think he Rannulph Junuh.

              He is Rannulph Junuh, you damn twit!

              Well, he is and he ain't.

              Thank you.

              Anybody drinking? Here, I'm gonna get a drink.

              It'll come.

              I had me a uncle named Rufus.

              - Stupid. - Lost his right arm in a cotton gin.

              Learned how to do everything with his left arm.

              He was changing the wheel on a wagon. Axle chopped of his left arm.

              So he did everything with...

              ...his teeth. - Was a mistake.

              He said things to Mr. Johnny he shouldn't.

              Mr. Johnny knocked out his teeth.

              "Savannah's own."

              He learned how to do everything with his feet.

              Until he got this fungus. It grew all up the...

              - Stop it! - It's about overcoming adversity.

              Listen, you want to talk to me about my grip, fine.

              Talk about my swing, fine.

              Don't want to hear about fungus?

              He became a dancer.

              He made a fortune. Was the most amazing thing to see...

              ...this armless, toothless man sliding across the stage...

              ...to the music of Bessie Smith and the Duke.

              I don't care if I'm    strokes back. I just don't.

              You don't even want to win?

              It's just a game, Bagger.

              Yes, sir. You said it yourself now. "Just a game."

              So maybe there's something else that's riling you.

              Maybe you thought you'd just sashay onto that green...

              ...and the old hero of Savannah just reappear all by itself.

              Don't work that way, is all.

              The Junuh you was...

              ...you ain't never gonna be again.

              Ever. That's all I'm saying.

              You don't know a thing about me.

              I know you'll look pretty foolish out there with...

              ...two different shoes on your feet. - Oh, Jesus.

              You got an answer for everything, don't you, Bagger.

              Let me tell you. There's no difference...

              ...between winning and losing, and anything in between.

              What's lost is lost.

              A man lives, a man dies.

              In the end it all turns out the same. You're alone.

              And that's all you'll ever be.

              That a fact? Alone?

              So a soul is born with everything the Lord give it...

              ...things don't go it's way, so it gives up, and the Lord takes...

              ...everything back? - Right.

              And then the soul dies alone.

              That pretty much what you said?

              - That's right. - That's a sad story, Mr. Junuh.

              - Yes, it is. - That's the dumbest thing I heard...

              ...any fool say. Ever.

              You got yourself a hard eye there, Mr. Junuh.

              Soul is born with everything, then it dies, and the good Lord...

              You a funny man, Mr. Junuh!

              So, what I hear, Bob's waiting to make his move.

              Doesn't want to peak early.

              You think Walter doesn't know? He's keeping pace with Bobby.

              When Bobby kicks his game into gear...

              ...he's in for a big surprise.

              What about Junuh?

              What about him, son?

              There's still three rounds to go. That's    holes.

              All he's got to do is pick up one stroke every four holes and he wins!

              It's possible!

              It's possible, son, but not very likely.

              Junuh has shown no signs of getting his game together.

              He's playing Bobby Jones and Walter Hagen.

              What do you know? You can't even get a decent job!

              Hardy! Hardy Greaves, come back here!

              Let him go, Ida.

              Been a hard time for the boy.

              There something you wanted to tell me?

              Well, I'm trying to think of how to say it, Junuh.

              There is a purpose to this visit...

              ...and that's to apologize.

              I'm not an apologetic woman, it takes me longer to organize my thoughts.

              I want to seem properly contrite for having gotten you into this match...

              ...but not seem what I did was ill-intentioned, since it wasn't.

              What exactly are you apologizing for?

              For publicly humiliating you.

              That'd be a good thing to apologize for.

              However, I think that...

              Basically, what I'm trying to say is...

              ...that I'm sorry.

              But it's not my fault.

              You're the one to blame.

              That's one hell of an apology, Adele.

              I'd stop the tournament in a flash, if I could. I truly, truly would.

              Because I know it's just gonna get worse.

              The way you're playing, you're destroying...

              ...any chance Jones and Hagen have of doing well.

               And your supporters? Every man, woman, and child in Savannah...

                ...are so demoralized that they can barely hold down their lunches.

                So, you want my apology or not?



                That's the Junuh I know. Just full of little surprises.

                What was it, Adele?

                What did you like about us?

                I liked the way we danced.

                What's your problem?

                And they looked at me like I was stupid or crazy, or something.

                I told them you could beat Jones and Hagen, being    strokes behind.

                I told them, all you had to do was pick up one stroke...

                ...every four holes of the next    holes, right?

                Yeah, right.

                Who do you think was telling me you were hopeless?

                My own father, who says he was a good friend of yours...

                ...till you lost your mind in the war. - He's right.

                You can't win?

                He was a good friend of mine.

                He's sweeping streets, Junuh.

                In the middle of Savannah, where everybody can see him.

                Me, my friends and everybody.

                You feeling sorry because your daddy sweeps streets?

                He ain't the only man who can't get work. Wilbur's dad can't neither.

                But he says he'd rather do nothing than something beneath his dignity.

                Grow up, Hardy.

                It ain't time for me to grow up.

                Your dad's sweeping because he took every dime he had...

                ...and used it to pay every man and woman he owed...

                ...instead of declaring bankruptcy like everyone, including Wilbur's dad.

                Which is why he's able to sit all day on his "dignity".

                Your daddy stared adversity in the eye and he beat it back with a broom.

                You really love this game, don't you?

                The greatest game there is.

                You really think so?

                Ask anybody. It's fun, it's hard...

                ...and you stand on the green grass, and it's just you and the ball.

                There ain't nobody to beat up on but yourself.

                Just like Mr. Nunan keeps hitting himself with the club when he's angry.

                He's broken his toe three times on account of it.

                It's the only game you can call penalty on yourself.

                If you're honest, which most people are.

                There just ain't no other game like it.

                You better get going.

                In case you didn't see that, Bobby, I'll show you where it's at...

                ...when your shot catches up to it.

                Oh, yes, greatest game there is. Right, Hardy?

                - Yes sir. - The greatest game there will ever be.

                - Just you and the ball. - All by your lonesome.

                I think it's time.

                - Time for what? - Time for you to see the field.

                The field?

                I see it,     yards long, it's got a little red flag at the end...

                ...it's    strokes ahead.

                That ain't it.

                If you had, you wouldn't be hacking at that ball...

                ...like you was chopping weeds.

                Just give me the club.

                Sorry I bring it up. Take that, hack away.

                Here, Billy, over here!

                All right, what's the "field"?

                Fix your eyes on Bobby Jones.

                - He's a piece of work. - Give the man room.

                Knock it out there, Bobby.

                Look at his practice swing.

                Almost like he's searching for something.

                Then he finds it.

                Watch how he settle this up, right into the middle.

                Feel that focus.

                He's got a lot of shots to choose from.

                Duffs and tops and skulls.

                There's only one shot that's in perfect harmony with the field.

                One shot that's his...

                ...authentic shot.

                That shot is gonna choose him.

                There's a perfect shot trying to find every one of us.

                All we got to do is get ourselves out of its way...

                ...and let it choose us.

                Look at him, he in the field.

                You can't see that flag as some dragon you got to slay.

                You've got to look with soft eyes.

                See the place where the tides, and the seasons...

                ...the turning of the earth...

                ...all come together.

                Where everything that is...

                ...becomes one.

                You've got to seek that place, with your soul, Junuh.

                Seek it with your hands, don't think about it, feel it.

                Your hands are wiser than your head's ever gonna be.

                I can't take you there...

                ...just hopes I can help you find a way.

                It's just you...

                ...that ball...

                ...that flag...

                ... and all you are. Seek it with your hands, don't think...

                ... about it, feel it.

                There's only one shot that's in harmony with the field.

                The home of your authentic swing. That flag...

                ... and all that you are.

                Even a blind squirrel finds an acorn now and then.

                The rest of that afternoon is a blur.

                Junuh kept asking question after question about the field.

                Bagger acted like nothing much had happened...

                ... and made remarks about how much Hagen's socks must have cost...

                ... and how long to dry tobacco leaves before they make a good smoke.

                But somehow, in the middle of it all, Junuh started playing golf.

                As the day and second round came to an end, there was genuine excitement.

                I do so enjoy this little game.

                Why don't you ladies join me for dinner?

                Hello, Hugh.


                I'll have a double scotch. Pretty entertaining out there today.

                That's what the people want.


                I got a proposition, Junuh.

                Exhibitions are the thing. $ -      for two days' work.

                Would you like to go on tour with me?

                We'd have good matches, but I'd win.

                Then we'd split the money,   -  .

                You get the   .

                I'm not just looking for another payday here.

                I couldn't breathe without golf.

                I once had the next king of England hold the pin for me while I putted.

                I did.

                I've paid back everything golf gave me, many times over.

                But now I'm on the receiving end.

                It's the good life.

                - Why me? - Crowd likes you.

                I think we have a lot in common, you and I.

                You've got no illusions that there's anything worthwhile out there.

                The meaning of it all is that there is no meaning.

                You'd be good company, that's all.

                Thanks, I'll think it over.

                I admire the way you're dealing with this match, Junuh.

                Fighting the way you are, it's damn noble.

                But no matter how good a fighter you are, just remember:

                I can ask the king to hold the flag when I putt...

                ...but he won't give me his crown. Neither is Bobby and neither am I.

                I'm not asking for your crown, Walter.

                If I wanted it bad enough, I'd just take it.

                Do you have something to discuss? This might not be the right time...

                I can win, Adele.

                I can beat both of them.

                Look in my eyes and tell me what you see.

                Determination, pure determination.

                Panic, Adele, pure panic.

                I'm eight strokes behind the two greatest golfers.

                They've never blown a lead, and I'll win.

                - Know why? - Panic?

                That's right.

                Oh, Junuh...

                ...you don't, by any chance...? - Yes.

                I ought to go back to my guests.

                Yes, I should go back.

                You will stay in touch...

                ...I can't wait another    years for the next installment.

                Did you miss something about me?

                Something I can feel gratified about depriving you of all these years?

                I liked the way we danced.

                I need the driver. This is gonna take all I got.

                That's a jigger. Help you keep it under the wind.

                My putter's got more loft than this thing.

                No, they about the same.

                Good, I'll just putt the ball down the fairway.

                Anything else?

                Just bash the living shit out of it.

                An iron? I guess it doesn't matter what you use...

                ...when you're eight strokes back.

                - What club was that? - Mid-iron.

                - Some kind of driving iron. - Extraordinarily hit, I'd say.

                Pull the flag, Hardy!

                Yes, sir!

                Junuh eagled, picking up two strokes on the first hole.

                That's it!

                He picked up another stroke when Jones bogeyed the second.

                And two more on Hagen when he double-bogeyed the third.

                Does that look like     yards to you?


                ...it's    .

                Might want to play the ball back a bit.

                He just hit a hole in one! Hot dang!

                I just seen a miracle with my own eyes!

                He just hit a hole in one!

                Homer, you're not gonna believe this, Junuh made a hole in one!

                He's coming back now! He's gonna make it!

                - You're kidding! - What?

                Junuh's making a run for it!

                He's three from Jones and two from Hagen!

                He made a hole in one! God bless Savannah and the men she propagates!

                Get back! How do you expect Junuh to hit the ball?

                His play in the third round was beautiful to watch.

                While Jones and Hagen discovered new hazards...

                ... Junuh had discovered, as Bagger had so eloquently put it...

                ... how to stop thinking without falling asleep.

                Junuh finished the third round one stroke behind.

                It was a new match, and no one knew it better than Jones and Hagen.

                - Can I have your autograph? - Not now, girls.


                I don't believe Walter planned on exerting himself.

                It was fun this morning, wasn't it?

                Yeah, it was.

                This is my last match, Junuh. I'm retiring.

                You're at the top of your game.

                I've got a wife, three children, and a law practice.

                It's time to stop.

                It's just a game, Junuh.

                I'll never forget you winning the Georgia Open in     .

                I never seen a swing so sweet...

                ...or a man get so much pleasure from it.

                This is my last    holes, Junuh.

                And I couldn't have picked a better way to end it.

                Thank you, Bobby.

                It is truly my pleasure.

                I can't let you win out of sympathy.

                You know that.

                I do, and I have no intentions of losing my last match.

                Thank you, Mr. Junuh.


                Junuh, look over here!

                Which would be more important to you, beating...?

                Excuse me! Excuse me! Give him some room. Thank you.

                - I'd like to have a word with you. - This isn't a good time, Adele.

                No, I think this is a very good time.

                I don't want to do anything that might disrupt your concentration...

                ...but since our little encounter, I've been thinking...

                Ten years and not a single, solitary word from you?

                You don't do that to someone you love.

                I deserve some correspondence, and some indication of what you felt.

                I don't know what happened to you. But whatever it was...

                ...it wasn't as unbearable...

                ...as a woman waiting with no end in sight...

                ...wondering if she's remembered or forgotten by the man she loves.

                You never even said you were sorry.

                Now I'm supposed to run into your arms and melt like butter on a hot muffin?

                I'm sorry, Adele. I am truly sorry.

                It's too late for "I'm sorry", Junuh!

                Then tell me what to say. It was too long ago.

                No, it wasn't.

                It was just a moment ago.

                Did something happen since we talked last night?


                Not that I can think of.

                Well, this is barely the place to talk about it.

                You've got to go back to your game.

                This town's gonna give you the biggest parade you've ever seen!

                Junuh was playing a fierce fourth round.

                A wild thought began to percolate:

                Junuh could win.

                To the clouds, Junie!

                - I think the driver. - Give us a smile!

                He smiled!

                Got water on the left, why not put your spoon out there and play smart?

                I'm gonna hug the left, get there in two and close the door on them.

                Hold on, we've got four more holes to go. You can settle down a bit.

                I've never been more settled. An eagle and this thing is over.

                That's     yards if it's an inch.

                Longest drive of the day, Mr. Junuh.

                I'm getting there in two.

                Two-twenty-five, into the wind, out the bunker.

                Jeez, the lifts too high. So much for an eagle.

                Says who? Where's that driving iron, Bagger?

                There's a time to hit that shot and there's a time to leave it in the bag.

                Which one of them times you feel this is?

                Tell him. Tell him it's a mashie...

                ...so he can have one easy shot... - That's amazing.

                Man's gonna go for the green with that clinky thing?

                - He's got the guts of a Greek god. - I don't care if he's son of Zeus...

                ...that ball won't clear the water.

                I hope you're all paying customers.

                - Junuh... - Hush yourself, Hardy.

                If at first you don't succeed...

                Which would make your spot...

                ...right here, Junuh.

                Give it to him, move.

                When Junuh dropped that ball...

                ... it was as if every heart in Savannah dropped with it.

                None landing harder than his own.

                You gonna be wanting a different club, Junuh?

                I can't do this.

                Just loose your grip up a smidge.

                - A man's grip is like a... - That's not what I'm talking about.

                - I know. - No, you don't.

                What I'm talking about is a game...

                ...a game that can't be won...

                ...only played. - You don't understand.

                I don't need to understand.

                Ain't a soul who ain't got a burden to carry he don't understand.

                You ain't alone in that.

                But you've been carrying this one long enough.

                Time to go on, lay it down.

                I don't know how.

                You got a choice.

                You can stop...

                ...or you could start. - Start?

                - Walking. - Where?

                Back to where you've been and then stand there.


                Real still, and remember.

                - It was too long ago. - No, sir, it was just a moment ago.

                Time to come on out the shadows, Junuh.

                Time for you to choose.

                - I can't. - You can.

                You ain't alone.

                I'm right here with you.

                I've been here all along.

                Now play the game.

                Your game. The one that only you was meant to play.

                The one given to you when you was born.

                You ready?

                Come on, take your stance.

                Strike that ball, Junuh. Don't hold nothing back.

                Now's the time.

                Let yourself remember.

                Remember your swing.

                That's right, Junuh. Settle yourself, that's good.

                Now is the time, Junuh.

                Let's go, Hardy.

                Hey, Bagger.

                - You are one hell of a caddy. - I do the best with what I got.

                We ain't done yet.

                By the   th, Junuh got his swing back.

                You have the right to call the game on account of darkness.

                That crowd will string us up by our thumbs if we do.

                All right! Play will continue!

                This is when I need pals in the mermaids' union.

                Cars! Get your cars, boys!

                I want every car on this property lined up with lights blazing!

                I don't care if you're kitchen help or Savannah police, get your car!

                Does he have a shot?

                Then Hagen came back from the dead.

                You got a smoke?

                Tell Spec to hold the flag in case I make it.

                I want a three iron.

                Get my shoes, will you?

                - What's going on? - Hagen wants Spec to hold the flag.

                I'm gonna miss playing Walter.

                Don't hold nothing back.

                The ball moved.


                It moved.

                I have to call a stroke on myself.


                No, don't do it! Please don't do it.

                Only you and me seen it, and I won't tell a soul. I promise.

                Nobody will know.

                I will, Hardy.

                So will you.

                You've got to tell him not to do it.

                It's a stupid rule that don't mean nothing.

                That's a choice for Mr. Junuh.

                No one wanted the penalty assessed, not even Jones and Hagen.

                This was no way to win a match.

                Maybe you're mistaken, Junuh.

                It moved before you touched the impediment.

                Might not have moved at all. The light plays tricks.

                "A ball is deemed to have moved if it leaves its original position...

                ...but not if it merely oscillates and returns to its original position."

                Is she different?

                Can you be certain?

                Sometimes a ball will shudder and then settle back again, Junuh.

                The ball was here, and it rolled to here.

                Hit it quick, before you have time to think.

                You're leaving.

                Yes, sir. Yes, I am.

                I need you.


                No, you don't.

                Not no more.

                There is a small matter, around about $ .

                It was guaranteed.

                Yes, it was.

                You won't need these shoes back now that I broke them in to my foot.

                Thank you, sir.

                This man is yours, Hardy.

                Take him on in.

                You want me...

                ...to take over for you?

                You leaving me?

                Only for a little while.

                You pick up Mr. Junuh's bag.

                You tote it real straight.

                But what if something comes up...

                ...and I don't know what to do?

                I got a feeling you'll figure it out.

                I'll be seeing you.

                Wait. What's going on?

                You can't leave him now, he needs you. You're the only chance he's got.

                You go, and you'll never caddy in Georgia again!

                You hear?!

                Where's Junuh lie?

                Two and a penalty. This is three.

                I can't hit it any better than that.

                Judging from the sound, I think I knocked your ball in the cup.

                Interesting match.

                I always thought so.

                Out of the way. Step back.

                Hagen and Jones both lay two, a shot ahead of Junuh.

                If either of them sank their putts, Junuh would lose.

                What do you think, Hardy?

                The night air's gotten colder.

                My guess is it's put a layer of dew on the warmer grass...

                ...which will slow your ball down.

                Why don't you go stand with your father?

                - Are you sure? - Go ahead.

                Go on.

                That is one tough shot.

                Make it.

                Rannulph Junuh of Savannah, Georgia, has tied Mr. Jones and Mr. Hagen...

                ...in the greatest golf match the world has ever seen!

                That was the last match in competition Bobby Jones ever played.

                From that time on, Walter Hagen played only exhibition matches.

                As for Captain Rannulph Junuh and Adele Invergordon...

                ... they did have that dance.

                And me?

                Seems like yesterday I used to see old guys like me...

                ... and wonder why they still bothered with this crazy game.

                But it doesn't matter.

                As Bagger once said, "It's a game that can't be won, only played."

                And so I play.

                I play on.

                I play for the moments yet to come...

                ... looking for my place in the field.

Special help by SergeiK