Jake: What I was concerned with was why you didn't come up with that grounder that Ryckert hit in the 9th
Roger: It was out of my reach, what do you want me to do dive for it?
Jake: Rog, it could have meant the game!
Roger: Oh come on, cut the rah rah shit Taylor! Year after this I go free agent. Plus me and my agent got a couple of plans for life after baseball. So I am not about to risk major injury or deface this property for a collection of stiffs!
Jake: Ya know Dorn, I liked you so much better when you were just a ballplayer. If you wanna be an interior decorator now, that's none of my business. But some of us still need this team. Now you listen to me! This is my last shot at a winner and for some of the younger guys it could be their only shot. I don't know what happened to you. But if you ever, ever tank another play like you did today, I'm gonna cut your nuts off and stuff em down your fuckin throat!

Pedro Cerrano: I stuck up for you Jobu. You no help me now...I say fuck you Jobu. I do it myself.

Rachel Phelps: [while Wild Thing is playing] I hate this fuckin' song.

Eddie Harris: Yo, bartender, Jobu needs a refill.

Heywood: [afterHayes reached on a bloop infield single] You really knocked the crap out of that one.
Willie: Oh, I plan to get at least a double out of this. [shows Heywood his black gloves] I bought a hundred of these. One for every base I'm gonna steal. Excuse me while I take my first step toward the Hall of Fame.
Heywood: My ass.
Harry: [Hayes takes his lead off first base] We don't know where Hayes played last year, but I'm sure he did a hell of a job.
Heywood: You're gonna look real sharp, tryin' to steal second with your shoe untied.
Harry: [Hayes looks down, then gets thrown out by the pitcher] Throw to first... Hayes is picked off! Personally, I think we got hosed on that call.

Eddie Harris: Up your butt, Jobu.

Harry: [reading statistics on the air] And the Indians drop this one, 6-to-one to the Rangers. For the Indians, one run on, let's see, one hit...that's all we got? One god-damned hit?
Monty: [covering microphone] You can't say "god-damn" on the air!
Harry: Don't worry. Nobody's listening, anyway.

Charlie Donovan: Vaughn's been looking good out there today.
Rachel Phelps: Don't worry, he'll blow it.

Jake: That's my wife...
Willie: Does she know that?
Jake: Well, she would've been if I hadn't screwed it up... who's that guy she's with?
Willie: I don't know. He's not wearing a nametag.
Rick: Want me to drag him outta here, kick the shit out of him?

Haywood: Taylor what are you doin back up here?
Taylor: I couldn't cut it in the Mexican Leagues
Haywood: How's your wife and my kids?

Roger Dorn: Let's cut through the crap, Vaughn. I only got one thing to say to you: "Strike this mother fucker out."

Jake Taylor: I play for the Indians.
Chaire Holloway: Here in Cleveland? I didn't know they still had a team!
Jake: Yup, we've got uniforms and everything, it's really great!

Pedro Cerrano: Hats for bats, keep bats warm.

Don't you guys go anywhere. I plan to put on a hitting display.

Heywood: How's your wife and my kids?