Excerpt from Production Script
EXT. FOOTBALL STADIUM. 10 YEARS AGO. DAY.
A High school football game in progress. Twenty seconds left to play. Score is 7 to 6. The losing team is set up for a field goal. CHARLEY LANKIN, (hereafter known as Charley) tall, good-looking, 17, is ready to attempt a 38 yard field goal. Charley makes the field goal and his team wins.
And Charley Lankin pulls it through for the Shenandoah Devils. This young kicker is definitely going places.
EXT. COLLEGE FOOTBALL STADIUM. 6 YEARS AGO. DAY.
Charley's team is losing by 2 points. Twenty seconds left to play. Charley is on the field and will attempt a 45 yard field goal. Charley makes the field goal and his team wins.
And Charley Lankin pulls through
again. The NFL scouts are keeping
an eye on this boy I'll tell you.
Charley's team carry him off the field.
INT. KITCHEN IN A SMALL 2 ROOM APARTMENT. NIGHT.
A table cluttered with food wrappings, an empty bottle of whiskey, a dirty used glass, and an over flowing ashtray filled with cigarette butts. The place is a mess. There is one chair by the table.
Charley staggers in through the front door. Although he is visibly drunk and having a rough time walking, he is also limping due to a chronic knee injury.
He is unshaven and looks sick. He is carrying a bottle of whiskey. He sits down at the table lights a cigarette and smokes it. He pours himself a large glass of whiskey but does not drink it.
Why do I do this to myself.
Why do I continue to make myself sick? I don't even remember what it's like to be straight anymore. One day, just to live one day straight again. One day without
sickness. Oh God, how long have I been like this?
The overhead light casts Charley's shadow onto the floor. Charley looks at the shadow of himself.
You know shadow, at one time I
had many friends. Now there is you and me.
FLASHBACK ABOUT 6 YEARS AGO.
Charley is at a college frat house party. He is very popular with others and everyone likes him. He is offered a beer by one of the others.
No thanks, I have to take
care of my body.
INT. CHARLEY'S KITCHEN. NIGHT.
What do you say shadow, shall we
have a drink to our misery?
Charley picks up the glass of whiskey, toasts his shadow, and takes a drink.
This isn't my fault. I didn't wake up one day and say I think I'll throw my life away. I was going To be a Pro. A somebody. Charley Lankin, NFL field goal kicker.
FLASHBACK. ABOUT THREE YEARS AGO.
INT. CAR. NIGHT.
Charley is driving on a rural two lane winding road.
Washington Redskins training camp here comes Charley Lankin.
About 100 yards in front of Charley a car is driving erratically and is all over the road. This car is heading straight for Charley. The driver of this car is not seen. There is an accident. The knee of Charley's kicking leg is crushed in the accident. The driver of the other car dies.
INT. CHARLEY'S KITCHEN. NIGHT.
That god damn drunk bastard,
I'm glad you died in that wreck.
I hope you rot in hell.
Charley takes a drink.
I never drank, never. Not until
after that damn accident. You bastard you're making me kill myself.
You drunken low life bastard.
Charley takes another drink.
I can't stop drinking. But do I really want to stop? If I wanted to I probably could, but why? I don't have anything anymore.
Everything is gone.
Oh God, I don't feel good.
I can't take these hangovers anymore. I need a drink.
Charley takes a drink and then stares at his front door.
I see my cloud of doom approaching.