FADE IN

EXT-PLAYGROUND-DUSK

A STRANGER walks onto a grass field flanked by a concrete playground. KIDS mill about, laughing, screaming, doing the stuff kids do.

The STRANGER is 20, tall, clean cut, All American. He is wearing classic clothing, polo shirt and khaki pants maybe.

The STRANGER opens the long satchel he is carrying and takes out a baseball bat and lines up five balls on the ground. He uses a mud hold as home plate. He begins stretching. TOMMY and BILLY, two playground kids, 11 and 12, approach him.

TOMMY

You play baseball?

STRANGER

No. Just came down to hit some balls around.

TOMMY

You want to play?

STRANGER

I don't know what we could play - I only brought one glove.

TOMMY

I don't know . . . Over the Line?

BILLY

You can't play with only one glove, stupid.

The STRANGER, who has continued warming up and hitting imaginary home runs, picks up the first ball as TOMMY and BILLY disheartedly walk away. Their heads spin around to the STRANGER as the first thundering crack of the bat is heard. The hit is respectable and shorthops a distant fence.

The KIDS on the playground look up in interest. The next hit falls ten feet short of the fence.

GIRL

Home run!

The crowd of KIDS cheers the STRANGER half-heartedly. His form is perfect, a tribute to Ruth and Gherrig. The third crack is a pop fly. The STRANGER is already reaching for the next ball before the third one touches the ground.

FAT KID

My grandma can hit better than that.

The STRANGER looks to the FAT KID.

FAT KID

Yeah, I said that. I was the one who said that.

The STRANGER smiles - a big, happy, wise smile. He continues to smile as he hits the forth ball.

This ball flies, literally. It seems to be propelled by far more than the muscular force the STRANGER has used. It sails well over the fence, over the row of houses beyond, and falls into an unseen yard. Distantly, a dog begins to bark.

The STRANGER remains humble; already the fifth ball is in his hand. The crowd is silent in its awe. This would have gone to the second deck at Yankee Stadium and even these 10 year-olds know that.

The fifth ball hits the fence. This time the kids cheer and clap in renewed reverence.

The STRANGER tosses the bat back towards "home plate" exactly as pro. baseball players do when they are being walked. He trots away to collect the distant balls and lobs them back to the plate. His arm is beyond great.

He steps up to the plate and again hits a ball near the fence. As he stoops to pick up the next ball, TOMMY approaches.

TOMMY

Can I hit one?

The STRANGER flips the bat over and presents it to the boy handle first. He steps up to the "mound," another mud hole. The pitch is underhand and arcs perfectly to TOMMY's sweet spot. The ball flies far and lands about 20 feet short of the fence. The crowd is impressed, but refuses to admit it.

BILLY runs to the outfield and begins to throw the other balls back towards the plate. He borrows the glove from the STRANGER's bag.

A line has formed to hit the ball. TOMMY hands the bat to a new KID. the KID chokes up on the bat, but hits the ball far for his size.

KID #2 is up to bat. The STRANGER's pitch rolls into the mud.

STRANGER

Can we get a catcher back there?

TOMMY takes the new position. A baseball game has broken out.

They play for about five minutes. More outfielders join BILLY. The CROWD becomes more daring in its praise and its insults. Everyone involved now carries a vague, glowing smile. "This is magic," it seems to say.

The FAT KID steps up to the plate.

FAT KID

Come on! Let me pull a Ken Griffey.

The STRANGER again smiles wisely and acceptingly. The FAT KID swings big and misses bigger. His momentum carries him around in a full circle. The CROWD roars with laugher.

A PARENT approaches the STRANGER.

PARENT

Are these all hard balls?

STRANGER

Yes, sir.

PARENT

I'm afraid there aren't any hardballs allowed here.

The PARENT point to a small sign.

PARENT (continuing)

Too many broken windows.

The STRANGER nods once, understandingly.

PARENT (continuing)

Do you know where La Colina Jr High is? That’s probably the closest place you could go.

STRANGER

I see. Sorry if I've caused any trouble.

PARENT

No trouble.

The STRANGER starts to collect the balls. The CROWD is disappointed.

KID

That's bogus, man.

KID #2

Just wait 'til he's gone.

FAT KID

Man! I was just about to pull a Ken Griffey.

The STRANGER only smiles.

TOMMY

Who do you play for?

STRANGER

I don't play for anyone.

TOMMY

You should, man. You should.

The STRANGER looks at TOMMY, ruffles his hair and smiles. He has collected his belongings and leaves the playground, head held high, bat over his shoulder. He is satisfied.

The STRANGER turns a corner. He seems to magically dissolve into the shadow, but it could have just been the light. He has left forever.

The KIDS look on. The playground will be a little different in days to come.

FADE OUT