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          Written by

    December 1995 Draft



    CRICKETS CHIRPIN' love songs, sporadic ZAPS from BUG
    LIGHTS, and an occasional random THWOCK as we --

    FADE IN:

1   EXT. TEXAS - DRAMATIC ANGLE - SUNSET                        1

    Out west where the sun descends gloriously over desolate
    mountains. A sense of timeless and incorruptible beauty
    if you ignore the TWANG of the MUSIC, the SPUTTER of the
    TRACTOR, the ZAPS, the THWACKS... and something else...

    ... MEN'S VOICES.   Garrulous with drink, fraternity and


2   EXT. DRIVING RANGE - LATE DAY                               2

    A man, JOSE, is on the roof, wrestling with a rickety
    satellite dish, stringing wire, trying to get it to work.
    (We get glimpses of him throughout the scene as he
    struggles with what is assuredly a pirate operation.)

    Four of six floodlights nailed to the roof cast pools of
    yellow into the gathering darkness. ROY "TIN CUP" McAVOY
    stands under the swarm of moths crowding the brightest
    light, hitting golf balls. THWOCK...! Launching them,
    really, into the deepening night. There's a beer between
    his legs. Behind him:

    A group of men forms a semicircle, facing away from Tin
    Cup. These men are the range regulars: CURT, CLINT,
    EARL, and DEWEY. Each man has money in one hand and his
    preferred libation in the other. They're all looking
    back and forth between the bug lights hung on the back
    wall, and muttering what sounds like bets to:

    ROMEO POSAR -- a smaller man, he stands at the center of
    the group with a handful of cash. Romeo is a part-time
    bookie and full-time driving range man. Born across the
    river in Mexico, Romeo is Tin Cup's caddie, confidante,
    best friend.

               Okay, all bets are down!

    Their eyes rivet on the bug lights, edgy, hopeful,
    until... ZAP! A BUG is ELECTROCUTED. And Dewey cheers
    triumphantly while the other regulars mutter curses about
    how they woulda, coulda, shoulda bet.

               Number one is the winner! Dewey
               has the winner. Pays five to two!

     Romeo quickly pays Dewey and more quickly takes money from
     the losers. It's fast-paced, inane, time-killing
     gambling. Tin Cup looks over.

                             TIN CUP
               Don't you shitheels ever get

     The regulars flap dismissive palms and mutter in the
     negative as they turn back to Romeo and the action at the
     bug lights.

                             TIN CUP
               ... 'Cuz I got a riddle.

     Tin Cup leads the regulars inside.

                                                   CUT TO:

A3   INT. DRIVING RANGE - LATE DAY                                A3

     Tin Cup holds court.

                             TIN CUP
               Takes about two ounces of brains
               to figure it out. Anyone think
               they got a brain with two ounces
               of brains in it?

     The regulars silently look at each other, reluctant to
     reveal the heft of their brains.

                             TIN CUP
               For Chrissakes, boys! A little
               self-confidence from the players'
               gallery. We ain't talking long

               How much we gotta lose?

                             TIN CUP
               You want to liven things up, Earl?
               That's a hell of an idea. Say
               everyone puts in twenty bucks and
               the pot goes to whoever solves the

               You going to get the riddle, Tin


                        TIN CUP
          Dewey. I'm the one asking the
          riddle. I already know the
          answer. I don't getta guess.
          Although... We could say if I get
          to five hundred bounces and no one
          gets the riddle, I get the pot.
          And I know what you're thinking.
          It's an impossible riddle. Well,
          It's not. It's an easy riddle.
          And if somehow by the grace of
          fluke luck I win, and you all
          don't agree it was an easy
          riddle, hell, I'll refund your

                        EARL, CLINT & ALL
          I'm in... We're in... Count us
          in... etc...

                        TIN CUP
          Okay, a man's driving down the
          road with his son and they get
          in a crash. Two ambulances come
          and take the man and his son to
          different hospitals. Son goes
          into the operating room, the
          doctor looks at him and says, 'I
          can't operate on this boy. He's
          my son.' How's that possible?
          The clock's ticking boys...

Tin Cup begins bouncing a ball on the face of his wedge.

          Father didn't sneak back in,
          right? He's still at the other

                        TIN CUP
          It ain't 'Star Trek,' Earl.   No
          one beamed him aboard.

That eliminates the most plausible theory in their minds.
The men think harder.

          Well... if the father married the
          son's daughter --

                        TIN CUP
          It's a family riddle, Earl.   Think
          clean thoughts.

    The regulars puzzle some more.

              Give us a little hint.

                            MOLLY (O.S.)
              The doctor's a woman.

    All heads turn to take in the arrival of:

3   MOLLY GRISWOLD                                             3

    Standing just inside the door -- she's a fresh-faced
    beauty in her early thirties, and she's got all new
    everything the sport of golf requires: new bag, new
    clubs, new shoes, new clothes, new visor... she looks
    like she stepped out of an ad in Golf Digest. And all
    the men are asking themselves the same question: what's
    she doing here? The silence invites Molly to supply the
    riddle's answer.

              The doctor is the son's mother.
              Feminists pose the riddle to
              reveal how deeply our sexual
              stereotypes run.
                     (directly to Tin Cup)
              I take it you're a feminist?

    Tin Cup misses the ball he's been bouncing, breaking the
    spell. The regulars wait for Tin Cup's response.

                            TIN CUP
              Ma'am, I've been called a lot of
              things -- but no one's ever
              saddled me with that one.

              You might try being saddled
              sometime -- the smell of leather,
              the sting of a whip...

    The regulars snicker, enjoying her one-upmanship.

                             TIN CUP
                     (slightly taken
              I'm just a humble golf pro...

              You're Roy McAvoy the golf pro? I
              pictured something... different.
              I have a seven o'clock lesson.

                            TIN CUP
              I thought I had a Doctor Griswold

              at seven.

    They hurry out to the range, Tin Cup oblivious to his

    And the regulars gather to look out the window --

4   THEIR POV - THROUGH WINDOW                                 4

    To the range, where Molly is stretching and Tin Cup is
    discreetly waving to the regulars to get lost.

                                                   CUT TO:

5   EXT. DRIVING RANGE - NIGHT                                 5

    The lesson begins. Tin Cup can be slightly condescending
    in these situations, though she's got him a little wary.

                            TIN CUP
              The first thing you gotta learn
              about this game, Doc, is it ain't
              about hitting a little white ball
              into some yonder hole. It's about
              inner demons and self-doubt and
              human frailty and overcoming all
              that crap. So... what kinda
              doctor'd you say you were?

              I'm a psychologist -- in layman's
              terms call me a neo-Jungian, post-
              modern Freudian, holistic

                               TIN CUP

    She begins unpacking one of her bags, pulling out every
    golf gimmick on the market -- swing aid straps to pull
    your elbows together, a ball pendulum that hangs from
    your hat, a metal contraption for your feet, etc.

              Inner demons and human frailty are
              my life's work. I used to
              practice in El Paso but I've moved
              here now...

                               TIN CUP
              What're those?

              I ordered these from the Golf


He stares in disbelief as she tries to wriggle into some
of this stuff. He's enchanted and dismayed.

                        TIN CUP
          That stuff's a waste of money.

          I'm sure there are excesses and
          repetitions here, but I believe in
          the gathering of knowledge and I
          figured, well, there must be some
          truths about the golf swing
          illustrated by these devices --
          and that you'd help me sort
          through it.

She stands there with contraptions coming from every

          I have dozens of golf videotapes,
          too... And a golf watch.

                        TIN CUP
                 (irritated, impatient)
          Take it off. All of it. Now!
          You're a smart woman, for
          Chrissakes -- don't you know the
          work of charlatans when you see

She deposits all the golf gimmick devices in a pile.

          No. I can always tell when
          someone is lying to himself, but
          I'm quite susceptible and
          frequently wrong when that person
          lies to me.
                 (pointing to the
                  pile of devices)
          That stuff cost me over 200
          dollars --

                        TIN CUP
          Then it's 200 dollars of shit...

He tees a ball, hands Molly her driver and steps back.

                         TIN CUP
          Go ahead.   Take a swing.

Molly takes a pitty-pat swing and whiffs, and mutters
under her breath with the ease of a longshoreman.

          Aw, fuck...

                        TIN CUP
          Well, you talk like a golfer --

Molly unloads a mighty second swing. The club head
bounces off the mat. The ball sits untouched.


                        TIN CUP
          'Fuck...' 'Shit...' these are
          highly technical golf terms and
          you're using them on your first
          lesson -- this is promising.

          Awright, wise ass, show me.

Tin Cup takes the club from Molly, motions for her to
step back, tees up a ball, and rockets a drive into the

                        TIN CUP
          Something like that.

He hands her back the club and tees up another ball.
Molly just looks at him.

          Impressive. Y'know, I tend to
          process things verbally. Can you
          break down into words how you did

Tin Cup takes a deep breath -- this is his speech.

                        TIN CUP
          'What is the golf swing?' -- by
          Roy McAvoy.
          The golf swing is a poem.

                        TIN CUP (CONT'D)
          Sometimes a love sonnet and
          sometimes a Homerian epic -- it is
          organic and of a piece, yet it
          breaks down into elegant stanzas
          and quatrains. The critical
          opening phrase of this song is the
          grip, in which the hands unite to
          form a single unit by the simple
          overlap of the smallest finger...
                 (displays grip)
          ... held lightly, a conductor's

       (starts swing)
Lowly and slowly the clubhead is
pulled back, led into position
not by the hands but the body
which turns away from the target,
shifting to the right side without
shifting balance. Tempo is
everything, perfection unobtainable,
as the body coils, now to the top
of the swing, in profound equilibrium.
And then a slight hesitation, a nod
to the gods...

A nod to the gods?

              TIN CUP
To the gods, yes... that he is
fallible. As the weight shifts
back to the left pulled now by
powers inside the earth -- it's
alive, this swing, a living
sculpture -- and down through
contact, always down, into terra
firma, striking the ball crisply
-- with character -- a tuning
fork goes off in your heart, your
balls -- such a pure feeling is
the well-struck golf shot -- And
then the follow through to finish,
always on line -- The reverse 'C'
of the Golden Bear, the steelworker's
power and brawn of Carl Sandburg's
Arnold Palmer, the da Vinci of
Hogan, the unfinished symphony of
Roy McAvoy.

What?    What's unfinished?

              TIN CUP
I have a short follow through --
my swing can look unfinished.


              TIN CUP
Some say it's because that's the
best way to play through the winds
of West Texas... and some say it's
because I never finish anything.
You can decide. The point is every
finishing position is unique as if
that is the signature left to the
artist, the warrior athlete who,

          finally and thereby, has asserted
          his oneness with and power over the
          universe by willing a golf ball to
          go where he wants and how and when,
          because that is what the golf swing
          is about...
          It is about gaining control of
          your life, and letting go at the
          same time.

Molly stares back, exhausted and intrigued.

          Jeez Louise...

                        TIN CUP
          There is only one other acceptable
          theory of how to hit a golf ball.

          I'm afraid to ask. What's the
          other theory?

                        TIN CUP
          Grip it and rip it.

          While I appreciate your poetic
          sensibility, Mr. McAvoy --

                        TIN CUP
          Call me Roy, Molly...

          Call me Dr. Griswold...

                        MOLLY (CONT'D)
          Roy... but at this point I think
          I'm more of the 'grip it and rip
          it' school. Hand me the driver.

Tin Cup does.   She tees it up.

                         TIN CUP
          Waggle it, Doc, don't forget to
                  (as she stares at
          Waggle... the club head...
                  (shows her)
          ... it's a little relaxing

She waggles the club head, then takes the club back.

                        TIN CUP
          Let the Big Dog eat!

She stops, lets the club fall.

          What Big Dog?

                        TIN CUP
          The driver, the number one wood --

          It's metal.

                        TIN CUP
          Yeah, woods are metal -- don't
          worry about it -- and the driver's
          known as the Big Dog and I'm just
          saying to turn him loose, let 'er
          rip, let the Big Dog eat!


She swings.   Tops the ball.   It goes ten feet.

          This is, without a doubt, the
          stupidest, silliest, most idiotic
          grotesquery masquerading as a game
          that has ever been invented.

                        TIN CUP
          Yes, ma'am, that's why I love it.
          And if you hit one good shot -- if
          that tuning fork rings in your
          loin -- you can't wait to get

She cracks one dead solid perfect out into the night.   It
felt great and she knows it.

          I think the Big Dog ate something.

                        TIN CUP
          Did the tuning fork ring in your

          I wouldn't go that far.

                        TIN CUP
          Always quit on a good shot. We'll
          call that lesson number one...

          ... and if ya wouldn't mind paying
          me in cash -- there's a little
          I.R.S. situation I'm dealing with

          If you're such a legendary striker
          of the golf ball as everyone says,
          then why are you, at your age, out
          here in the middle of nowhere
          operating a barely solvent
          establishment, ducking the I.R.S.,
          collecting a few pathetic dollars
          to buy your next sixpack -- when
          you're capable of so much more?

Her speech is delivered without judgement or rancor, so
matter of factly that he's disarmed.

                        TIN CUP
          Perhaps I'm chocked full of inner

          No, you're chocked full of
          bullshit --
          Same time next week?

She heads off to the parking lot.    He stares.

                        TIN CUP
          What did you mean I should try
          'being saddled' sometime?

                        TIN CUP (CONT'D)
          Were you being literal or was that
          some kind of Freudian type deal?
          Molly? Doctor?
          What kind of saddle?


As she walks into the West Texas night.    She smiles,
enjoying Tin Cup's confusion.

Tin Cup just stares into the night, holding his cash, until
JOSE'S VOICE ECHOES down from the roof.

          I got it!   Esta bien!    The flag
          is up!

                                                  CUT TO:


7   INT. DRIVING RANGE SHACK - NIGHT                           7

    Tin Cup enters, cash in hand, as the regulars all gather
    excitedly around the TV monitor now coming in.

                            TIN CUP
              A class act there, boys --
              probably the first actual `lady
              type' female ever seen on these
              premises --

              Shut up, boss -- we got the Corpus
              Christi dog track on the dish --

              This is yer dead mortal cinch lock
              bet with Do-reen.

    Everyone's glued to the set. A greyhound race comes on
    from a remote Texas track on the gulf.

                            TIN CUP
              Free money, boys, what does
              Doreen know about the fine art of
              Greyhound breeding?

              All she knows is she likes the
              three dog 'cause his name is
              Pride of Odessa 'cause she's
              from Odessa.

                            TIN CUP
              Get ready for Oddessa-lation, boys.
              How deep we in?

              You gave her twenty to one --

              It's only fifteen to one on the
              toteboard --

                            TIN CUP
              Yeah, but I got every other dog
              in the race. I'm just getting
              even with Doreen -- I'm not
              trying to clean her clock.

              So how much you stand to lose?

              Twelve thousand.


                        TIN CUP


                        TIN CUP

          You said to shoot the wad.

                        TIN CUP
          I said get even, Pod. I didn't
          say shoot the wad. We better see
          that three dog rolling on his ass.

All eyes on the monitor -- the dogs break.

          Except... if he breaks slow, he
          won't get creamed...

The starting box opens -- "THERE GOES THE RABBIT" -- the
three dog breaks slow and trails down the front stretch.

          Three dog's dying, T.C.... easy
          money... (etc.)

The one dog veers wide, going into the escape turn,
annihilating the field. Dogs fly ass over teakettle
like bowling pins, and --


The three dog clears the pileup, untouched, hugging the
rail. It has a ten length lead as it moves down the
backstretch and past the toteboard. The race is over --
the three dog wins.

Deathly silence. Somebody flips OFF the TV. Finally,
in a lame attempt to lighten the moment, Romeo speaks --

          So, Roy, you were saying you
          felt a little flutter for this
          doctor lady?

                        TIN CUP
          Yes, I was saying that... just
          before I was interrupted by...
          bankruptcy -- a development that
          the 'Doctor Lady,' as you call her,

              will consider utterly predictable.

                                                   CUT TO:

8   EXT. GOLDEN TASSEL NIGHTCLUB - NIGHT                           8

    The marquee advertises: EXOTIC DANCERS/STEAK $4.00.      The
    parking lot is full of pickup trucks and beer cans.

    Tin Cup and Romeo head toward the entrance.

              We lost everything, boss! We owe
              Doreen twelve thousand bucks!

                            TIN CUP
              I think I been dating too many
              big-haired blondes.

              Them big-haired blondes are a lot
              smarter 'n us...
              ... how we gonna pay her?

                            TIN CUP
              You underestimate me, Romes.

    Romeo doesn't realize the truth in his own response.

              It's a bad habit I picked up
              from knowing you so long.

                            TURK (THE BOUNCER)
              Hey, Tin Cup, Doreen's looking for
              ya --

                            TIN CUP
              I'm sure she is...

    They enter the strip joint.

                                                   CUT TO:

9   INT. GOLDEN TASSEL - NIGHT                                     9

    A nearly-NAKED DANCER on stage to a lot of whooping
    cowboys. Tin Cup moves in this world with ease and
    something that passes for grace. Everyone knows him.

              Hey, Tin Cup, haven't seen ya in
              three days!


                             TIN CUP
               Busy man, Courtenay, busy man --

     As they pass the stage, even the Naked Dancer interrupts
     her moment with a bunch of guys offering dollar bills --

                                NAKED DANCER
               Tin Cup!     Hi, sweetie!

                             TIN CUP
               Hiya, honey -- lookin' sweet...

     And backstage they go, easily waved through by another
     bouncer. They come up to a dressing room door. And

     A voice from inside.

                             VOICE (O.S.)
               That better be you, Roy.

10   TIN CUP AND ROMEO                                           10

     enter this holy of holies with complete familiarity. And
     there she is -- DOREEN, 35, at least, the classic chesty,
     hippie, big-wigged Texas goddess. She's older than the
     other girls, and more experienced in every way. She's
     smoking a cigarette and finishing up the touches on her
     stripper's outfit.

     Tin Cup and Romeo stand at her beckoning.

                                TIN CUP

               You're looking particularly
               lovely this evening -- This is
               nicer than the leopard suit --

               Cut the horseshit, guys. So...
               the one and two dogs always run
               wide and the three dog always
               breaks slow, so I figure there's
               gonna be a big ol' pile of fur at
               the turn and the three dog's
               gonna tiptoe around it and walk
               on home... I was right.
               You owe me twelve thousand

               We going to pay you.


Tin Cup squirms as Doreen babbles a bit.

          I know you're going to pay me.

                        DOREEN (CONT'D)
                 (admiring her own
          Y'know I finally got rid of the
          leopard suit thing -- it was so
          retro, y'know... it's not easy
          being a post-modern stripper...
          So... twelve big ones?

Tin Cup finally digs into his coat pocket and produces
some official-looking papers. He hands them to her.

                        TIN CUP
          There. With equity and inventory
          it's worth twelve grand... more or

Doreen leans forward to examine the papers.    She looks at
Tin Cup with surprise.

          This is how you think you can
          settle up? By deeding me your
          driving range?

                        TIN CUP
          Only on condition you don't sell
          right away, and me'n Romeo keep
          our jobs.

          What in the world would I want
          with your stupid driving range?

                        TIN CUP
          Equity, inventory, cash flow...
          not to mention an enhanced stature
          in the community, and prepaid
          membership in the Salome Chamber
          of Commerce.

For a moment, Doreen can only stare dumbly at Tin Cup,
caught off guard by this unexpected turn of fortune. Then
she starts to consider the idea more seriously.

          What are your labor costs?
                 (off no response
                  from Tin Cup)
          Payroll, Roy. What do you pay

               your help?

                             TIN CUP
               Let's see... the tractor kid gets
               five bucks an hour. Romeo, he
               gets ten cash --

               What do you pay yourself?

                                TIN CUP

     Doreen nods in a way Tin Cup finds threatening.

               To hit golf balls all day... when
               you're not breaking for beers or
               corn dogs or to gather the guys
               and lay bets on which crow flies
               off the fence next.

                             TIN CUP
               You're referring to my managerial

               I'm referring to every nickel you
               snatch out of the till and every
               bag of beer nuts you lift from the
               rack, is what I'm referring to.
               I'll say it's worth ten and you
               still owe me two.

     She smiles, he sighs.

                                                    CUT TO:

11   EXT. PAWN SHOP - MORNING                                   11

     Tin Cup parks his big old red Cadillac convertible out
     front. He goes around to the trunk, opens it, takes out
     his golf clubs, and carries them into the pawn shop.

                                                    CUT TO:


     Tin Cup's domicile, parked near a slow-moving river. The
     red Cadillac is parked out front next to Romeo's Mercury

                                ROMEO (V.O.)
                         (with horror, inside

                        the Winnebago)
                You hocked your golf clubs?!

A13   INT. WINNEBAGO - DAY                                      A13

      Tin Cup sits on the couch, swigging Maalox.

                              TIN CUP
                I still got two grand to pay off.
                And I can't see my new salary of
                seven bucks an hour plus lessons
                getting it done.

                But your clubs are your livelihood.

                              TIN CUP
                Well the hood ain't too lively at
                the moment.

      A CAR HORN SOUNDS from outside.

                              TIN CUP
                Whoever it is, tell 'em I'm in
                Houston on business.

      Romeo opens the door, and steps outside.

                David Simms!   What you doing in

      Romeo steps outside to greet Simms.   Warily.

                                                      CUT TO:

13    EXT. WINNEBAGO - DAY                                      13

      Romeo and Simms under the awning.   A spiffy new car
      parked nearby.

      DAVID SIMMS, 38, looking every bit like the successful
      tour pro he is... Payne Stewart to Tin Cup's Maynard G.

                Romeo! It's been awhile.    Is
                Tin Cup around?

      Romeo is evasive.

                He's on business in Houston... You
                supposed to be out playin' on the
                golf tour.


          Well, you tell him I'm in town for
          my big charity best-ball
          tournament, and I got a spot for
          him when he comes back from...

          You got a spot for Tin Cup?   I
          thought you hated him.

          Romeo! You wound me. I'm fond
          of the guy, going way back to our
          days at University of Houston,
          when we won all those titles

          He says he carried you on his

Simms won't be drawn into this adolescent competition --
he's too comfortable with himself and his success.

          I didn't have much craft back
          then -- just a little native
          ability. Roy's a great ball-

          Why you here?

          I want to win my own tournament,
          and he can help me if we can
          manage to behave like grownups
          together. Tell him that.

Tin Cup suddenly appears in the doorway.

                        TIN CUP
          What's the catch?

          There is no catch. I put together
          a tournament with an elite field
          and a half-million dollar purse,
          and I'm tired of seeing all the
          money head out of town.

                        TIN CUP
          Then make more birdies.

          I need you on my team.

                        TIN CUP
          You ain't that friendly a guy...

          We're playing Cottonwood where you
          once shot fifty-nine, where you
          can shoot sixty-five in your sleep
          'cuz you know every bump on every
          fairway, every subtle break on
          every green --

                        TIN CUP
          You an' me --

          Me an' you -- like the old days.

Tin Cup can't quite believe this offer from his old
nemesis but there aren't many options out there. He
grabs Simms's hand and starts pumping it, gushing
with enthusiasm.

                        TIN CUP
          ... Well, put 'er there, partner!
          These two homeboys are gonna show
          the world what golf in West Texas
          is all about!

          No, Roy. I didn't mean I want you
          to play with me. I just want you
          to caddie for me, read my putts,
          club me, that kinda stuff.

Tin Cup wilts like a time-lapsing daisy.   His hand falls
free of Simms's. Words fail him.

          You son of a bitch.

                        TIN CUP
                 (to himself, blankly)
          Caddie? Me?

          I can't bring a guy in off the
          street to play in my tournament.
          It's a big-time event, corporate
          sponsors, thirty dollar tickets...
          I got a network to cover --


               This guy off the street, he could
               kick your ass on that golf course.
               Like he kicked your ass in junior
               golf. Like he kicked your ass in
               college. Like --

               I'll pay you a hundred for the
               loop, five percent of any
               earnings --

               Get the hell outta here! Take
               your goddamn color coordinated
               corporate sponsored soul and get
               outta here.

               Okay, okay, just thought I'd offer
               you some work...

     Simms heads to his car.

                                  TIN CUP


                             TIN CUP
               I'll take the job.

               We'll take the job.

     Simms nods in agreement, and exits.    Tin Cup stands there
     with Romeo, feeling humiliated.


     drives away down the road.

                             TIN CUP (O.S.)
               That man stands for everything I
               hate in life.

                             ROMEO (O.S.)
               You mean like... success?

                                                     CUT TO:


      Banners and galleries and concession tents create the
      atmosphere of a polite circus.

      - DAY

      BILLY MAYFAIR putts out on the 16th green to polite

B15   EXT. COTTONWOOD GOLF COURSE - 16TH TEE - DAY               B15

      The two twosomes tee off and the caddies follow,
      including Tin Cup.

15    EXT. COTTONWOOD - 16TH FAIRWAY - DAY                       15

      A leader board reads:   SIMMS/STADLER -10, MICKELSON/
      MCCORD -8.

      A giant gallery lines the fairway and rings the distant
      green which is fronted by a lake, as:

      STADLER hits a three wood toward the green -- the BALL
      PLUNKS in the middle of the lake. The GALLERY GROANS.

      Stadler just shrugs to Simms, as if to say, "I thought I
      had enough club."

                Like I told you, it was more'n
                you had in the bag.

                Yeah, well... I had to go for it
                after your caddy said he could
                get home from here.

      Simms swivels his head around to look at Tin Cup.

                               TIN CUP
                I could.

      Simms looks away, at the shot he's facing: a two hundred
      fifteen yard carry over water. He looks back at Tin Cup,
      shaking his head.

                I gotta hand it to you, Roy. For
                fifteen holes you've seemed to
                grasp the concept here: I'm
                trying to win and your job is to
                help me.

                        TIN CUP
          Five percent of your earnings does
          numb the gag reflex.

          Give me the seven iron.   I'm
          laying up.

                        TIN CUP
          You can make that shot.

          The smart play's to lay up.

                        TIN CUP
          These fans didn't pay thirty bucks
          to watch a tour star lay up on a
          short par five.

          I'm sitting on a two shot lead
          with three to go, and my partner's
          in his pocket. Suddenly, par's a
          good number. Gimme the seven

                        TIN CUP
          No way. You're going for the
          green. These fans paid good money
          to see golf shots they can't hit,
          not golf shots they feel shitty
          about themselves for having to

Simms reaches for the seven iron.   Tin Cup clamps a hand
over the club.

                        TIN CUP
          Thirteen years on tour and you're
          still a pussy. Hit the fucking
          one iron, Dave.

          Thirteen years in a driving range
          and you still think this game's
          about your testosterone count.

Simms removes Tin Cup's hand from the seven iron and
grabs the club, stepping up to address the ball. Tin Cup
mutters to the gallery.

                        TIN CUP
          Two-fifteen to carry, and the tour
          star's laying up.

And the remark summons gallery voices suddenly urging
Simms to go for the green. Simms motions for Tin Cup, as

     if reconsidering.

               But if you're gonna editorialize,
               do it on the other side of the
               ropes. I got no qualms about
               firing your ass right here, right

                              TIN CUP
               Fire me?   Hell, I should fire you.

     Simms steps back to his ball with the seven iron, and:

16   Stadler's still standing back where he hit the shot into  16
     the lake. MICKELSON and GARY McCORD, the other team in
     the pairing, are there with him. Romeo, Stadler's caddie,
     stands just behind them.

                      (to Mickelson)
               I know you could knock it on from
               here, I'm just saying that caddie's
               been drinking muddy water if he
               thinks he can.

               He can.

     All the players look at Romeo as:

     Simms dumps his seven iron shot safely down in front of
     the water to a smattering of polite applause.

     Simms tosses the club back to his bag as Tin Cup
     retrieves the divot. And:

               Hey, Dave!   We in a hurry?

     Simms looks several yards back where Stadler is still
     standing with McCord and Mickelson.

               'Cause I just bet McCord and
               Mickelson that your caddie could
               knock it on from here.

               We're trying to win a tournament,

               I know.    But I'm getting five to


17   EXT. TV TOWER                                                17

     The ANNOUNCER from the GOLF CHANNEL looks at the monitor
     where a hand-held camera is picking up Stadler motioning
     Tin Cup over.

                              GOLF CHANNEL ANNOUNCER
               From two-fifty from a snarly lie,
               over water, on national TV, with
               no warmup... I'd give ten to one
               to a tour pro.

18   BACK TO COURSE                                               18

     Stadler, McCord, and Mickelson are smiling at the bet.

     This is golf. But Simms snarls at being challenged.
     Stadler drops a ball in the rough for Tin Cup to hit.

               Here ya go.   Take a hack at it.

               Balls versus brains, Roy. You
               hit that shot, just keep walking,
               'cuz your ass is fired.

     Tin Cup mulls over the warning, as:

                               STADLER, McCORD, MICKELSON
               Come on, Roy!    Your fans are

     Stadler waves his arms to summon a cheer from the gallery.
     Tin Cup puts down Simms's golf bag.

                             TIN CUP
               How you gonna fire me in front of
               all these people? Especially when
               I knock it on the green.

     And he heads over to where Stadler and the others stand

19   OMITTED                                                      19

     PETER KOSTIS, with a hand mike, following the group,
     begins to describe the extraordinary event unfolding.

                      (on mike)
               It seems like the Charity
               Tournament is taking a little

               break for a side bet, here --

     Gary McCord moves toward the camera and takes the

               Peter, I've done a little
               background here -- this unfolding
               disaster's a driving range pro
               named Roy McAvoy, who everyone
               calls Tin Cup. Locals claim he
               he was a pretty good college lick
               and knocked around the mini-tours...

20   Tin Cup steps up to hit the shot.   McCord lowers his     20

               ... but I guarantee you, he's
               about to suffer brain arrest.
               He's thinking about the cameras
               and the gallery and the water, and
               all that gray matter between his
               ears is turning to goo... and
               incidentally, Stadler's got it booked
               at ten to one...

     Tin Cup swings, and:

21   The CAMERA PICKS UP the ball arching high and true off  21
     the club. It lands on the green. The CROWD ROARS... and
     the roar becomes deafening as the ball rolls three feet
     from the pin.

                             KOSTIS AND McCORD
               He's not that good... he's
               definitely not that good... (etc.)

22   BACK TO the course -- a scuffle's breaking out.           22

     David Simms helping some guy over the gallery rope.
     Simms walks the guy back to his golf bag... and now Tin
     Cup understands what's happening, and:

               Take a hike, Roy -- the loop's

                             TIN CUP
               You can't fire me. How can you
               fire me? I just knocked it stiff
               from two fifty. Gimme that bag.

     Tin Cup reaches for the bag. The guy holds onto it.
     They wrestle briefly, as Simms sighs with fatigue and
     looks for a marshal.



     Tin Cup gives up wrestling when he sees a couple marshals
     approaching. He turns his anger on Simms.

                             TIN CUP
               What about my money?

               You just hit the shot that took
               you out of the money. Welcome to
               life on the tour.

     Tin Cup goes after the bag again. The guy still hangs
     on. The marshals arrive, and begin to wrestle with Tin
     Cup. He goes berserk... a WWF battle royal.

                                                     CUT TO:


     Sports highlights.    Introducing "Sports Machine" with
     George Michaels...

                             GEORGE MICHAELS (V.O.)
               And finally Sports Machine brings
               you a bizarre incident...

     A brief highlight of Tin Cup, going crazy, wrestling with
     the marshals and replacement caddie.

                             GEORGE MICHAELS (V.O.)
               Driving range pro, Roy `Tin Cup'

     MALE LAUGHTER greets the shot, and:

                               EARL (O.S.)
               Hey, Tin Cup!    You made the news!


     The Regulars crowd under the TV on the wall above the
     till, hooting at what they just saw. Tin Cup is nowhere
     in sight.

24   INT. BACK ROOM - NIGHT                                      24

     Romeo scoops balls into wire buckets from the garbage can
     of water where the balls are washing. Tin Cup sits on a
     bench, alternately swigging cheap whiskey and Maalox.

                        TIN CUP
          If I had it all to do over, I'd
          still hit that shot.

                 (nods with neither
                  rancor nor irony)
          The look comes over your face, you
          would bury yourself alive to prove
          you can handle a shovel.

Tin Cup looks over at Romeo for signs of an implied
pejorative. But Romeo's just washing and scooping
balls... and looking badly in need of perspective.

                        TIN CUP
          You know why I'd still hit that

Now Romeo looks over... and he decides that Tin Cup is
the one in need of perspective.

          'Cuz it's the only way you can
          beat David Simms. 'Cuz you never
          got over that he is on tour and
          you are not. 'Cuz you get that
          look on your face...

                        TIN CUP
                 (pauses, adding
                  weight to his
          I'd hit it again because that shot
          was a defining moment. And when a
          defining moment comes along you
          define the moment or the moment
          defines you. I did not shrink
          from the challenge. I rose to it.

Romeo nods, holding his peace.

          1981, Fort Washington Golf Club,
          Fresno, California, final round of
          the Tour Qualifying School...

Tin Cup cringes at the memory, then moves for the high

                        TIN CUP
          I was playing to win.

          A defining moment when you tried
          to hit the same impossible cut

               three wood into the wind from a
               hilly lie -- four in a row out of
               bounds -- until you finally pulled
               it off and tapped in for a
               When a twelve woulda got you on
               the tour! That was a defining
               moment and the definition was

                             TIN CUP
               Greatness courts failure, Romeo.
               That's why most people, in their
               whole lives, never ever reach for
               the brass ring, never know when to
               dig deep and try for the
               impossible shot...

               You're right about that, boss, but
               sometimes... sometimes... par is
               good enough to win.

     Tin Cup tosses down another Maalox cocktail.

                                                    CUT TO:

25   EXT. GOLDEN TASSEL - NIGHT                                25

     Parking lot full of the usual suspects as a BUMP AND
     GRIND VERSION of "YELLOW ROSE OF TEXAS" floods outside.

26   INT. GOLDEN TASSEL - NIGHT                                26

     Doreen dances in a yellow rose outfit, a more classic
     strip look than her protegees.


     held aloft by the eager locals in the front row... and
     then a handful of papers held aloft by one Roy McAvoy,
     also in the front row.

     Doreen dances over and picks the papers from his hand,
     reading them as she dances.

               The DieHard/West Texas Calcutta,
               the Duvall County Boys Club Pro/
               Scratch, Woody's Steak House One
               Club Scramble... what do I want
               with all these entry forms?

                        TIN CUP
          It's a business proposition. I'm
          offering you my winnings from all
          them tournaments this summer.

          In exchange for what?

                        TIN CUP
          My driving range back.

She dances away from him, not exactly sold on the idea.

She dances back to him, reclines a leg on the partition,
and moves her face opposite his.

          Roy, I'm not as dumb as my hair
          makes me look.

                        TIN CUP
          They ain't all strictly minor
          league. One of 'em pays almost
          two grand!

She twirls off.    He chases her, beer and entries in hand.

                        TIN CUP
          Now wait, Doreen. You gotta do
          the math, and you gotta look at
          how good I'm playing. I hit the
          shot of the tournament at the
          best-ball. They put it on
          national TV.

          I saw.

                        TIN CUP
          And what does that tell you?

The MUSIC comes to an END.   The club is momentarily

                        TIN CUP
          And what does that tell you?

          It tells me you took an
          unauthorized day off. Next time
          it happens, you're fired. In the
          meantime, I'm putting in a time

                        TIN CUP
          I'm not punching in no time

               clock like some working stiff!

                                                     CUT TO:

27   INT. DRIVING RANGE - NEXT DAY                               27

     Tin Cup punches the new time clock which is located
     under the awning near the ball wash.

     KACHUNK goes the TIME CLOCK as he hurries outside --

29   EXT. DRIVING RANGE - DAY                                    29

     -- and there he finds Molly, waiting on the tee with her
     driver and a bucket of balls.

                                TIN CUP
               Am I early?

               Mr. McAvoy, I can appreciate that
               you have a fairly laid-back,
               relaxed lifestyle -- but I have
               hours to keep.

                             TIN CUP
               A former paramour once ascribed my
               fluid sense of time to being born
               under the sign of Pisces --
               something about floating through
               the universe --

     He tees a ball for her and steps back.   She's staring at
     him, half-amused.

               You amuse me, Roy. But I'm the
               only woman in America born after
               World War II who thinks astrology
               is a crock of shit.
               Now let's see if the Big Dog'll

                                TIN CUP

               I'm waggling...

                              TIN CUP
               Set up to the ball like I showed
               you last time.

     Molly addresses the shot.    Her stance is rigid, overly

mechanical.   Tin Cup winces.    But she looks terrific.

                        TIN CUP
          Quit trying to wring that club's
          neck, Molly. Show it a little
          warmth and compassion...

He moves around behind her to reposition her shoulders.

                        TIN CUP
          Remember, this game's about trust
          and touch and letting go. So
          while I'm subtly enhancing your
          technical prospects, why don't you
          tell me all about your personal

          It's none of your fucking
          business, Roy.

Tin Cup's hands move down to square her hips.    He's
discreet and professional.

                        TIN CUP
          Your boyfriend's a golfer --
          that's my bet -- and he's why
          you're taking this game up.
          Hell, I probably even know
          him --

                        SIMMS (O.S.)
          Get your hands off her ass, Roy.

And, as Tin Cup's hands recoil in alarm...

DAVID SIMMS steps onto the range.

                 (to Simms)
          Hi, sweetie...

                          TIN CUP
          Not him...


Crushed and bewildered.


A killer smile. The man is absolutely at ease with his
own success and charm.

                                                 CUT TO:


30   EXT. WINNEBAGO - NIGHT                                   30

     A shadow paces across the drape in the lighted window.

                             TIN CUP (O.S.)
               He's taking her to Miami for the
               fucking Doral! How am I supposed
               to compete with that?

31   INT. WINNEBAGO - NIGHT                                   31

     Romeo ponders Tin Cup's dilemma from the couch.

               Man, you are having a bad week.

                             TIN CUP
               She must think I'm such a nothing,
               such a loser... a lousy driving
               range pro living in a Winnebago,
               making five bucks an hour plus

               She don't know you live in a

                             TIN CUP
               Well, she sure as hell knows I
               ain't taking her to no Doral for
               massages and mimosas all weekend.
               I gotta do something with my life.

     He reflects deeply while Romeo shrugs.

                             TIN CUP
               I gotta rise to a level worthy of
               the women that think I'm a joke.

               Well... you could go out and win
               The Open.

                             TIN CUP
                      (pausing, as
                       if jarred)
               Romeo, that idea has promise.

               I was joking.

                               TIN CUP
               I ain't.

We talking about the same
tournament? The U.S. Open? The
Biggest golf tournament in the

              TIN CUP
Not just the biggest golf
Tournament in the world; the most

What do you mean?

              TIN CUP
I mean it's open. Anyone's got a
shot at it. You just gotta get
past a local and a sectional
qualifier, and unlike Doral or
Colonial or the A.T.T., they can't
keep you out. They can't ask you
if you're a garbageman or a bean-
picker or a driving range pro
whose check is signed by a
stripper. You qualify, you're in.

And then you pay out of your own
pocket to go there and get all
nervous and intimidated --

              TIN CUP
Who's intimidated? I just told
you I'm gonna win the damn thing!

You don't got the game.

              TIN CUP
I got every shot in the book.

I said you don't got the game.
The mental game. The head game.

              TIN CUP
You suggesting I err on the side
of excess?

You always go out to shoot zero.
Sometimes you pull it off. But
you can't play like that at the
Open. You win by taking what the
course gives you. You win by
being humble, which you aren't,
and patient, which you never will


     Tin Cup comes over to the couch, sits down, and puts an
     arm around Romeo.

                             TIN CUP
               Well, since you're the authority,
               How'd you like to teach me how to
               be what I ain't and never will be?

               You don't ever listen to me.

                             TIN CUP
               This time'll be different.   I

               I don't know, man. Right now you
               don't even got the money to get
               your clubs out of hock.

                             TIN CUP
               Yeah, well... my sticks may be in
               a pawn shop, but I got a rake and
               a hoe at the range.

                                                    CUT TO:

32   EXT. MESQUITE COUNTRY CLUB - DAY                          32

     Expensive cars in the parking lot -- A putting green in


     The trunk opens. A set of expensive golf clubs is
     removed by a wealthy looking guy, BOONE, 40'S. He
     turns to face Tin Cup and Romeo who is reaching into
     the trunk of Roy's Cadillac.

               Let me get this straight -- you're
               going to play me for four hundred
               dollars with those?

     Romeo removes an old golf bag from the trunk. It
     contains a rake, a hoe, a baseball bat, and assorted
     garden tools.

                             TIN CUP
               And I'll give ya two a side... I
               got the title to my car as

               I'm not interested in that piece
               of shit.

                              TIN CUP
               That's cuz you think of it as
               transportation, Boone. Think of
               it as bragging rights. Think of
               yourself sitting around the bar
               crowing to your buddies about the
               Cadillac you won off Tin Cup
                       (the real kicker)
               They'll forget all about the
               Winnebago you lost to me.

                                                    CUT TO:


     Boone addresses the ball on the first tee.

               No mullies, no gimmes, no bumping
               the ball --

     And he rips a drive down the fairway.

               Nutted it.

     Tin Cup selects the baseball bat from his golf bag.
     Romeo hands him a pink ball and Tin Cup shows it to

                             TIN CUP
               I'll be playing a Pink Lady today.

               That little pink fag ball supposed
               to rattle me?

     Tin Cup moves over to the tee markers.

                             TIN CUP
               Not unless I knock it by you.

     And he tosses up the Pink Lady and fungoes it long and
     straight down the fairway.

                                                    CUT TO:

34   EXT. MESQUITE FIRST FAIRWAY - DAY                           34

     Tin Cup stops at his ball, and looks twenty yards back to

     where Boone has arrived with his caddie at his drive.

                             TIN CUP
               Yep, I caught this thing way the
               Hell on the toe.

     Boone knocks an iron onto the edge of the green.

               Drive for show, putt for dough, big

                             TIN CUP
               Did you hear that, Romeo? Boone
               was being profound! He has
               revealed to me the essential
               mystery of golf! Drive for show,
               putt for dough...
                      (holds out
                       a palm)
               Louisville Slugger, please.

     Boone's a little rattled by Tin Cup's insouciance.

               You got Boone shakin' already --
                      (studying the
               Front left bunker's your best
               angle to the pin.

                             TIN CUP
                      (calling his shot)
               Front left bunker -- plugged lie.

     He tosses up the ball and fungoes a lazy fly ball.

                                                     CUT TO:

35   EXT. MESQUITE 1ST GREEN AND SAND TRAP - DAY                 35

     Boone gazes with malicious delight at Tin Cup's ball,
     buried in the front left bunker. He watches Tin Cup take
     the hoe from Romeo and move down into the trap.

               I want to see a legitimate swing.
               No scooping.

     Tin Cup holds up a hand like a gallery marshal requesting

                                TIN CUP
               Stand, please.     Gallery, please,

     He addresses the ball, choking down on the hoe,
     positioning the blade at an odd angle. He hacks at the
     ball with an unorthodox chopping motion. The ball pops
     up in the air, lands on the green, releases and rolls up
     a foot from the hole.

     Boone's jaw drops. Tin Cup hit an impossible shot with
     utter ease and facility.

                              TIN CUP
               I'll finish.

     Tin Cup trades Romeo the shovel for the rake, takes the
     pin out of the hole, and pool cues the putt home. Par.
     Boone looks at his own sixty-foot putt and he knows he's
     just been had... utterly, embarrassingly, and thoroughly.

     Without a word he counts four hundred dollars from his
     roll and drops it on the green.

               Get the hell off my course.

38   EXT. PAWN SHOP - DAY                                        38

     Tin Cup and Romeo emerge, Romeo carrying T.C.'s sticks.

                             TIN CUP
               Listen, swami, your job is to
               teach me patience and humility,
               not to advise me on my love life.

               No. My job is to get your head
               straight so you can qualify for
               The Open, much less win it. To
               get your head straight you got to
               forget about the doctor lady.

     They head up the street under a collonade toward Tin
     Cup's waiting Caddy.

                             TIN CUP
               Not all my thinking occurs below
               the belt. I actually stand for a
               few things beside where my next
               romantic interlude is coming from.

               Then you got no problem telling
               the doctor lady you can't teach
               her no more till after the Open.

     Tin Cup blinks silently a moment, feeling slightly cornered.

                             TIN CUP
               That would make an issue of
               something that ain't an issue.
               Besides, I'm focused.

     Romeo responds with a Spanish curse.

                             TIN CUP
               I mean, this is my quest!

               Ahhh... your quest... chingaso...

                             TIN CUP
               This is where I stand up for all
               the little guys everywhere who've
               had their fill of soulless robots
               like David Simms --

               He may be a soulless robot but
               he's a rich, happy soulless robot
               with a beautiful doctor lady
               girlfriend who's got you by the
               huevos --
               Besides, how is getting into the
               U.S. Open gonna change what she
               thinks about you?

                             TIN CUP
               It'll prove to her that I'm not
               who she thinks I am.

               But you are who she thinks you
               are! Look, I don't bet on a
               horse with a hard-on.

                             TIN CUP
               Hard-on?! Hard-on?! Hard-on?!
               Here, touch me, feel --
                      (as Tin Cup grabs
               I don't feel nothing! Here!

               Hey, hey... shit... cool it...

39   Suddenly a convertible passes -- Simms and Molly,        39
     laughing, carefree, enjoying each other. The couple in
     the car doesn't see Tin Cup grabbing his crotch making
     a fool of himself on the sidewalk -- but Tin Cup and
     Romeo see them.

     The car disappears down the street. Tin Cup cools off,
     chilled, really -- and full of chagrin.

                             TIN CUP
               Okay, okay... maybe I got a semi.

                                                      CUT TO:


     Doreen's on the phone, between shows, and is adamant.

               I cannot give you time off to win
               The Open. I don't care if it's
               your 'quest'...
               ... or your 'destiny'...
               ... or any of those terms you
               vaguely remember from your Cliff
               You shoulda treated me nicer when
               we were an item -- then maybe I
               wouldn't be such a nasty boss.
               G'bye, Roy -- I have a business to

     She hangs up and heads out on stage as the music calls.

                                                      CUT TO:

41   INT. DRIVING RANGE - NIGHT                                 41

     Tin Cup hangs up the phone and turns to Romeo.

                             TIN CUP
               Man, ever since I let her dump my
               ass she just can't resist kicking
               me in it.

               Maybe you should treat her more
               like a lady.

                             TIN CUP
               After she ran off with that Dallas

               She did that after you let her
               dump you. It wouldn't kill you
               just once to tell her she's
               beautiful, she can dance, she's


                         TIN CUP
           Romeo... are you sweet on Doreen?

           No more'n you are for that doctor

A couple of deep sighs.   Two losers with fluttering

                         TIN CUP
           Great, Romeo, just great... just
           when I need you to be my friend
           and coach, you go get all gooey
           about one of my ex-girlfriends
           who just happens to be our boss.

           Anybody comes to me for help on
           their love life about women is
           already too far gone.

                          TIN CUP
           I don't recall asking you for
           Women are tougher to figure out
           than a feathered one iron from a
           tight lie --

Suddenly a golf image relaxes them into their comfort

           Actually if you open the club face
           a hair and play it off your back
           foot --

                         TIN CUP
           Shut up, Romeo... I wasn't really
           seeking golf tips...

           It's all I'm good for -- but you
           can count on me for that, at

                         TIN CUP
           How far off the back foot?

           'Bout three balls...

Silence.   Golf is so much easier than life.

                              TIN CUP
                I'm ready to charge forth in
                pursuit of my mythic destiny and I
                can't get time off work to do it.

                I'm no expert, but it seems to me
                that the `pursuit of a person's
                mythic destiny' is not the sort of
                thing that a person needs to get
                off a five dollar an hour job in
                order to do...

                              TIN CUP
                I'm stuck. Buried. My life's a
                plugged lie in a kakuyi bunker
                with a tight pin position on a
                green with a stimp meter reading
                of thirteen.
                I need help. I need advice. I
                need counsel...
                I need a shrink.

                You don't know no shrinks.

                              TIN CUP
                I know one.

                Not the doctor lady?

                              TIN CUP
                Why not?

                You can't ask advice about the
                woman you're trying to hose from
                the woman you're trying to hose!

                              TIN CUP
                Hose?! Hose?! Get your mouth
                outta the gutter! This is a
                matter of the heart!

                                                      CUT TO:

A42   EXT. MAIN STREET (SALOME) - DAY                            A42

      Tin Cup's Caddy pulls up and   he gets out, goes to the
      front of a store that is now   a health services office.
      He looks around warily -- as   if someone might see him
      entering such a place -- and   ducks inside.

                                                     CUT TO:

B42   INT. SMALL ROOM - DAY                                      B42

      It's the exit, "cool down" room, not the waiting room.

      Tin Cup sits nervously, he's slightly overdressed for
      the occasion. He looks childlike.

      The door to the inner office opens -- a woman comes out
      and sits down across from him. She's weeping
      uncontrollably. He stares. He fidgets. He's nervous,
      out of place.

      Finally Molly enters through the same door because she
      hears the crying. She sees Tin cup -- an awkward moment,
      then --

                              TIN CUP
                I didn't do anything!

                I know... I know... wait in there.

      Tin Cup slips into the main office while Molly consoles
      the weeping woman.

                                                     CUT TO:

42    INT. MOLLY'S OFFICE - FEW BEATS LATER - DAY                42

      Tin Cup is dutifully lying on the couch because he
      heard that's what you do. He stares at the ceiling.
      Molly enters and sits down.

                Roy... are you okay?

                              TIN CUP
                I need therapy.


                              TIN CUP
                What do I do? I mean... to do it
                ... therapy... I mean, how do I
                start doing... it.

                In parlance you might understand,
                just kick back and let the Big Dog

      He sighs and plunges in.


               TIN CUP
Okay, okay, let 'er rip...
        (deep breath)
Suppose there's this guy. He's
standing on the shore of a big,
wide river. And the river's fulla
all manner of disaster, like
alligators and piranhas and
currents and eddies, and most
people won't even go down there to
dip a toe. But on the other side
of the river's a million dollars,
and on this side of the river
there's a rowboat. I guess my
question's this: What would
possess the guy on shore to swim
for it?

He's an idiot.

              TIN CUP
No. He's a hell of a swimmer,
see. His problem's more like...
why's he always gotta rise to the

He's a juvenile idiot.

              TIN CUP
You don't understand what I mean
by the river.

We're talking about you and what
you like to call your inner
demons, Roy, that human frailty
you like to blather about, not
some mytho-poetic metaphor you
come up with in a feeble and
transparent effort to do yourself

              TIN CUP
Y'mean you're gonna make me feel
lousy? I came here to feel better
-- what kinda therapy is this?

You don't have any inner demons.
What you have is inner crapola,
inner debris -- garbage, loose
wires, horseshit in staggering

              TIN CUP
I ain't just some jerk driving-
range pro who drinks too much
booze and eats too few vegetables.

You're being defensive -- cut to
the chase and tell me why you're

              TIN CUP
Well... I'm smitten with a woman.

That's good.   Is she smitten with

               TIN CUP
Not yet.

Have you asked her out?

              TIN CUP
She's seeing a guy. I don't know
how serious it is, but the guy's a
real horse's ass, in my opinion...

If you shared your heart with this
woman -- maybe asked her out to
dinner -- then it would force
these issues out in the open.

              TIN CUP
I'm afraid she'll say no.

Ahh... so what you're saying is
that all your speeches about
swimming across the shark infested
waters are really just about your
golf game -- not about your
personal life.

              TIN CUP
Christ, I didn't know we were
gonna get into my personal life!

This is therapy!

              TIN CUP
Well, jeez, I know, but I didn't
think it was that kind of

          What were you expecting?    Ann

                            TIN CUP

          Look, it's rather simple. Those
          risks that you love to take on the
          golf course, the risks you talk so
          passionately and poetically about
          -- you need to apply those risks
          to your personal life with the
          same passion.

                        TIN CUP
          I should ask this woman out.


                        TIN CUP
          I should risk coming right over
          the top and snap-hooking it out of
          bounds left.


                        TIN CUP
          Risk hitting it a little thin
          and --

          For Godsakes, Roy, that's enough!

                            TIN CUP
          Right.   Sorry.

          Look, just walk up to this woman,
          wherever she is, look her in the
          eye with those big beautiful green
          eyes of yours, let down your guard
          and don't try to be smooth or cool
          or whatever -- just be honest and
          take the risk -- you can do it!

Tin Cup rises with new confidence. He does several deep
breathing exercises, trying to work up the courage. She
stares at him. And he walks right up to her.

                        TIN CUP
          Dr. Griswold -- I think I'm in

          love with you.

Molly is stunned.


                        TIN CUP
          From the moment I first saw you I
          knew I was through with bar girls
          and strippers and motorcycle
          chicks, and when you started
          talking I was smitten and I'm
          smitten more every day I think
          about you -- and the fact that
          you know I'm full of crapola
          only makes you more attractive
          to me because usually I can
          bullshit people but I can't
          bullshit you and in addition, most
          women I'm thinking about how to get
          into their pants from Day One but
          with you I'm just thinking about
          how to get into your heart --

Molly was clue-less.   She just stares.

          My God...

                         TIN CUP
          Stunned, eh? So what about dinner
          and we can talk about `us' and if
          we have a future and how to drop
          that horse's ass boyfriend of
          yours --

          Roy, slow down --

                        TIN CUP
          Hey! I just hit a eight degree
          driver off a cart path here, I'm
          staring eagle in the face --

          This is a terrible mistake!

Tin Cup is knocked off his horse.   Into deep rough.

                        TIN CUP
          I'm acting from the heart so I
          can't make a mistake?! Right?

                 Wrong.  Aw, shit...
                 I am one horrible shrink...
                 jeez... I didn't know you were
                 talking about me.

                               TIN CUP
                 Would your advice have been

     She's frustrated and at a loss for words.

                 Session's over. You better leave.

     Crushed, Tin Cup heads to the door, stops and turns.

                               TIN CUP
                 I'm gonna qualify for the U.S.
                 Open and kick your boyfriend's

                 Please leave.

                               TIN CUP
                 Whatever you think of me, you
                 should know that your boyfriend
                 hates old people, children, and

     He exits.   She just sits there.

                                                     CUT TO:

43   EXT. DRIVING RANGE - HIGH ANGLE - NIGHT                     43

     The lone figure of Tin Cup stands on a tee, arching SEVEN
     IRONS -- THWOCK! -- into the night, serenaded by CRICKETS
     and the occasional BUG-LIGHT ZAPPING a fly.

     Romeo and the regulars stand behind Tin Cup observing
     approvingly. Tin Cup mutters something with every swing.
     It sounds like he's saying --

                               TIN CUP
                        (just before
                 Dollar bills...

     Tin Cup hits another shot, totally focused.

                               TIN CUP
                 Dollar bills...

          How'd it go with the doctor lady,

                        TIN CUP
          If she was a par three, I'd'a made
          a nine.

          Stroke and distance, eh?

                        TIN CUP
                 (nods, deep in
          Dollar bills...

Romeo backs off to let the man practice, and Clint asks:

          What's he saying?

          Dollar bills. His divots got to
          look like dollar bills. 'Course
          Moe Norman hits divots like bacon
          strips 'cuz he come over the top,
          but that's gettin' too technical
          for you.

Clint turns and nods approvingly to the rest of the

          See that, boys? He's hitting
          dollar bills. Tightening his

They murmur approval, but Earl catches Clint's eye and
jerks his head at Tin Cup, indicating Clint isn't doing
his job as group spokesman. Clint takes a step forward.

          Uh, something us shitheels want
          you to know, Tin Cup, is uh, well,
          we been to see Doreen, and we told
          her we'd stage a customer's strike
          if she didn't give you time off to
          win the Open.

This remark penetrates Tin Cup's concentration.   He turns
with a smile to the regulars.

                        TIN CUP
          You perverts did that for me?

          We believe in you, man.


               And if you get past the local
               qualifier, we gonna sponsor you.

     Tin Cup looks at the beaming faces of the regulars and
     smiles broadly.

                              TIN CUP
               Thanks, boys -- a man couldn't
               have better friends. Now move the
               hell back and shut the fuck up.
               You're messing up my

     And with big smiles, they move each other back so as not
     to mess up Tin Cup's concentration. And he pulls out
     another ball, mutters dollar bills, and hits another
     perfect shot.

                                                     DISSOLVE TO:

44   EXT. DRIVING RANGE - NIGHT (LATER)                             44

     Everyone's gone home except Tin Cup, who keeps drilling
     beautiful shots into the Texas night.

                                                     CUT TO:

45   EXT. ADJACENT HIGHWAY - NIGHT                                  45

     A car is parked unnoticed. A figure sits alone, watching
     Tin Cup from a distance. Molly.


     With his elegant swing,   as graceful as he is crude, a Zen
     ritual. Finally, weary    at last, Tin Cup tosses his club
     in his bag and drags it   toward his ever-present
     Winnebago, which we see   him enter.

                                                     CUT TO:

46   INT. WINNEBAGO - NIGHT                                         46

     He drops his clubs on the couch. The place is a wreck,
     and he collapses in a chair, CRACKING a CAN of cheap

     A KNOCK at the door.   He's startled.

                             TIN CUP
               Debt collection? Process server?

          Ex-flame? Jesus, I'm clean.
                 (disguises his
          Who is it?

The door opens -- Molly enters. He's surprised but well-
settled into his bath of cynicism.

          God, you've got a beautiful
          swing --

                        TIN CUP
          -- And big, beautiful green eyes
          -- I'm a beautiful guy.

          I came here to apologize.

                          TIN CUP
          For what?

          Well, I counseled you, you did
          exactly what I said, and I just...
          poured cold water over your
          I didn't get it. I'm a terrible
          shrink, probably... I should've
          never got out of real estate --
          actually I should never have
          left Ohio for that cowboy in
          Armarillo -- have you ever been
          to Amarillo?

                          TIN CUP
          A cowboy?

          It's not as romantic when you're
          actually with one -- a wrangler,
          y'know -- so of course the oil
          man in Dallas looked great after
          that -- I don't know what I was
          thinking... That's when I went to
          the gulf and ended up in, well,
          trailer sales and then all those
          condos in Corpus Christi -- the
          bottom fell outta the market and
          I needed a new gig --

                          TIN CUP
          A new gig?

          Therapy.    I took all the classes.

           I'm licensed, y'know.
                  (suddenly dejected)
           Oh God...
                  (reaching into her
           Mind if I smoke?
                  (lights up)
           Anyway, I'm flattered you asked me
           out. I can't accept because I am
           involved with David and I haven't
           seen any evidence that he treats
           old people, kids or dogs badly.

                         TIN CUP
           I got a little carried away, I
           guess. I shoulda just layed up,
           made my par, and moved on.

           Look, I want to propose something
           -- as long as you understand this
           is professional -- we're not going
           out together --

                          TIN CUP
           Tee it up.

           I can help you with the mental
           aspects of the game. You've got
           Romeo to be your swing doctor, I
           can be your head doctor.

                         TIN CUP
           But you said you were a lousy shrink?

           Well, yeah... I'll improve.

                         TIN CUP
           I got no money to pay for you.

           I'll trade my services for golf
           lessons and help you through the
           qualifying. If you get into the
           Open, well, you're on your own.

                         TIN CUP
           You'll be with David.


Silence.   A deal.   It's the best they can do.

                                                  CUT TO:


47   EXT. COTTONWOOD - FIRST TEE - MORNING                     47

     Local qualifier. The First Tee of the Local Open
     Qualifier. And the voice of the starter.

                             STARTER (V.O.)
               ... the next group... Roy McAvoy,
               Salome, Texas... who will be
               playing with...

     The regulars applaud and whistle and shout way too many
     "You the man's!" as Tin Cup steps onto the first tee,
     followed by his Sancho Panza, Romeo. Tin Cup is feeling
     on top of the world, at his cocky best.

               How ya feelin', boss?

                             TIN CUP
               I'm feelin' like par's a bad
               score, podnuh -- fifty-eight's
               within the realm!

               Jesus, the doctor lady's here --


     standing not far from the regulars.

                             TIN CUP
               Didn't I tell ya? She's gonna be
               your guru partner. You handle my
               swing mechanics and she handles my
               brain mechanics.

               Long as you keep your dick out of
               it --

                             TIN CUP
               Me an' the 'big guy' have an
               understanding. He's gonna lie low
               till I get in the Open -- then...

               The Big Dog'll eat?

                             TIN CUP
               The Big Dog'll hunt, that's for

     Tin Cup steps up to the tee, a couple quick limber

swings, and he tees it up.   As he does, Romeo slips over
to Molly.

          Looks like we partners, Dr. Molly

          I just have to help him keep his
          head on straight --

          If you can, you be the first.

          He does have the occasional
          tendency towards self-destruction
          it seems.

          It ain't occasional and it ain't
          no tendency -- it's a fact of life
          that he gonna blow sky high, it's
          just a matter of when and how
          fast can the pieces be put back
          Behind that twinkle in his eyes is

Tin Cup waves and motions to his team.

                        TIN CUP
          Quiet in the gallery! A man's
          trying to do his job.

And Tin Cup uncoils a mighty drive with an elegant
stroke, fully confident and smooth. The gallery

                        TIN CUP
          Got my 'A' game with me today,
          folks... you're in for a real

Molly leans to Romeo just before they all head down the
fairway and confides --

          I find him mildly attractive when
          he's obnoxious and arrogant like
          this --

               Good. 'Cause it's his best

     And they head down the fairway, a scruffy little gallery
     on a so-so course. With a lot at stake...

                                                      CUT TO:

48   MONTAGE OF TIN CUP'S FRONT NINE                             48

     He hits a perfect wedge -- and says to himself, Romeo,
     Molly, the gallery, the universe --

                             TIN CUP
               Dollar bills...

49   He nails a two iron straight as a string.                   49

                              TIN CUP
               Nutted it...

50   He rifles another drive into the stratosphere.              50

                              TIN CUP
               Ben Hogan?   Who's he?

51   Putt after putt drains into the jar.                        51

52   CLOSE ON the SCOREBOARD -- The red numbers (under par)    52
     are going up quickly as every shot he hits is dead, solid
     perfect. Minus one, two, four, five, seven...

                                                      CUT TO:


     Tin Cup's in a zone, talking to himself, full of himself,
     in a fabulous, indomitable state of mind.

     Molly and Romeo keep looking at each other and shrugging,
     Tin Cup's on a roll and needs no help. So far...

     A couple of the regulars shout out encouragement.

               You the man, Tin Cup! You the

               They bugging you, boss -- I can
               shut 'em up?

                             TIN CUP
               The way I'm swinging today,

          nothing bugs me -- except
          insufficient applause.
                 (surveying the
          Gimme the lumber.

But Romeo is handing him a two iron.

          I think two iron's safer.

                        TIN CUP
          I said I want the Big Dog.

Romeo looks warily down the fairway of a tight dogleg
left par five.

          Tight par five, out of bounds
          left... you don't want to hit

                        TIN CUP
          I'm not going left of those trees.
          I'm going over those trees... with
          a little draw. That way I get
          home in two. That way I'm putting
          for eagle.

          You don't need eagle to qualify!
          You need to get used to playing
          smart -- no mistakes wins the

                       TIN CUP
          Qualify? I want the course
          record! Now gimme the lumber!

Tin Cup reaches for the driver.   Romeo shifts the golf
bag beyond Tin Cup's reach.

          You not going to listen to me?
          You don't care I'm trying to help?
          You think I'm full of shit?

                        TIN CUP
          I think I'm gonna get penalized
          for slow play if you don't give me
          that fucking driver.

          You a head case, boss, always
          were, always will be.

                        TIN CUP
          Then let's ask the head doctor.
          Dr. Griswold?
                 (to Molly)
          Dr. Griswold, should I hit the Big
          Dog or the two?

Suddenly an OFFICIAL steps forward.

                        P.G.A. OFFICIAL
          Soliciting shot selection advice
          is a two-stroke penalty.

          Trust your feelings, Roy.

                         TIN CUP
                  (to Romeo)
          Ha!   Gimme the driver and shut up.

Romeo pulls out the driver and he snaps it in half over
his knee. He tosses the two halves on the ground near
Tin Cup.

          ... Go ahead.    Hit the driver.

Tin Cup looks at the two halves of his driver, curbing
his anger, not giving Romeo the satisfaction of a

                        TIN CUP
          I changed my mind. Gimme the
          three wood.

          You can't clear the dogleg with a
          three wood.

                          TIN CUP
          Wanna bet?

Romeo pulls out the three wood, snaps it     over his knee,
and tosses the halves on the ground next     to the driver
halves. Tin Cup turns with amusement to      his playing
partners, lest they think management has     lost the upper
hand with labor.

                        TIN CUP
          Guess I'm going with the safe
          shot, boys.

Tin Cup reaches for the two iron, studies it a moment,
frowns, and then:

He snaps it over his knee. He dumps these halves on the
ground with the halves of the driver and three wood.

Romeo stares, aghast.   Tin Cup merely shrugs.

                        TIN CUP
          Sometimes I fan that two iron.
          Better gimme the three.

Romeo warily hands Tin Cup the three iron.    Tin Cup looks
at it, frowns, then:

He snaps it over his knee and tosses it on the ground.

Molly leans over to the regulars.

          Is this normal behavior for him?

          The word 'normal' and him don't
          collide in the same sentence too

She watches in amazement as --

                         TIN CUP
          Sometimes I catch that three a
          little thin...

He drops the three iron halves with the other halves, and
steps past Romeo and sequentially yanks all but the seven
iron from his bag.

He snaps them over his knee, one by one, citing the
crimes of each club with mounting absurdity and ire.

                         TIN CUP
          And I've hooked my four iron...
          ... and hit flyers with the
          ... and shanked the six...
          ... and skulled the eight...
          ... and fatted the nine...
          ... and chili-dipped the wedge...
          ... and bladed the sand wedge...
                  (snap; then pauses
                   to reflect
                   on his putter)
          ... and then there's Mister

He snaps the putter in half and dumps it in the pile of

     broken clubs at his feet.

     Then, he reaches for the last club in his bag, the seven
     iron. The regulars hold their breath, thinking this is
     the end of Tin Cup's Open bid. But...

     Tin Cup smiles and caresses the seven iron

                             TIN CUP
               But the seven iron, I never miss
               the seven iron. It's the only
               truly safe club in my bag.

     He moves to the tee, drops a ball, and hits it down the
     middle with the seven iron.

                             TIN CUP
               You happy, Romeo?

               No, boss, I'm tired... my life's
               too short to spend it watching you
               fall apart. I done it too many

     Romeo turns and starts walking away.

                             TIN CUP
               What's this? You're quitting?
               First sign of adversity, you're
                      (as Romeo
               Anyone want to bet me I can't par
               in with a seven iron?
                      (to Molly)
               Doc? Take the bet?

               Roy -- just shut up and hit the

                                                    CUT TO:

54   QUICK SERIES OF SHOTS                                      54

     Tin Cup's magic with a seven iron.   He drives with a
     seven iron.

55   He chips with a seven iron.                                55

56   He blasts out of sand with an open-bladed seven iron.      56

                                                       CUT TO:


     Tin Cup drains a ten foot putt -- also with the seven
     iron, and left-handed to boot. He's past the local

     The regulars erupt in cheers.   You'd have thought he won
     the Masters.

     And Tin Cup shrugs to the tiny gallery, with insouciance
     and cockiness, and pronounces --

                             TIN CUP
               An easy game, this golf...

                                                       CUT TO:

58   EXT. 19TH HOLE - OUTDOOR BAR - DAY (LATER)                  58

     Tin Cup holds court surrounded by his regulars and much
     of the gallery. He's a local hero -- but Molly's not

     A WAITRESS delivers a tray of long neck beers.

                             19TH HOLE WAITRESS
               Beer for everybody.

               You the man, Tin Cup!

     A toast is raised to their king, and Tin Cup eats it up.

                             TIN CUP
               Thanks, boys, what'ya think was my
               best shot -- the seven iron on
               twelve, the seven iron on
               fourteen, or maybe it was the
               bunker shot on eighteen which, to
               my recollection was a -- seven iron?

     Much laughter.   This is the Tin Cup they love.

               You definitely the man!

                             TIN CUP
               How'd I do, Doc?

               You failed miserably.

              TIN CUP
What?! I parred the back nine
with a seven iron, I qualified for
the regionals, I --

Your job is not just to qualify
for the Open, it's to prepare for
the Open. My job is to help you

              TIN CUP
You said to 'trust my feelings'!

I didn't know you felt like
breaking all the clubs in your

He didn't break the seven!

He smoked that seven, brother --

From what I understand, the U.S.
Open is the most difficult golf
tournament in the world played
under the most difficult
circumstances with the greatest
players -- winning it means
controlling yourself, managing
your emotions, staying cool, not
getting in a pissing contest with
your caddie who, incidentally,

              TIN CUP
He always quits, he always comes

Nonetheless, from the mental
aspect -- which is my domain --
you have regressed and are
fumbling somewhere between
delusion and denial.

              TIN CUP
'Regression, delusion, denial'?
You gotta use all this
psychological language?

I'm a psychologist.

Tin Cup turns to the regulars for support.

                         VOICE (O.S.)
           Have a bad day, Roy?

Everyone turns to see David Simms enter the conversation.

           Hi, honey...

                         TIN CUP
           I shot 65 -- parred the backside
           with a seven iron.


           That's the question -- why?


           'Cause he broke all his other

           Snapped 'em in two -- even the

           Jesus, Roy, I'm on your side here.
           We go way back... I hope you get
           into the Open, but if you don't
           play under control, you'll get
           slaughtered. Good players shoot
           82 in the Open. You can't always
           go for it.

                         TIN CUP
           Swear to God, Doc, this guy is
           not who you think.

           It's a well-known fact that if a
           camera's not on him, he treats old
           people and children like dirt.

           And dogs.

                         TIN CUP
           Yeah, don't forget the dogs.

           I think we should go, David.


          I think so...

Tin Cup's worst characteristics flare up, he won't let

                        TIN CUP
          You ever shoot par with a seven

          It never occurred to me to try.
                 (to Molly)
          C'mon, let's go. The car's over

                        TIN CUP
          I'll bet you a thousand dollars
          against my car that I can beat you
          in any game -- any game, you name
          it -- with a seven iron.

          This is ridiculous.

                        TIN CUP
          You a coward? You gonna lay up
          the way you did at the Masters
          last year?

                 (taunting, like
          Chickie, chickie, chickie...

Simms is a little drawn in, not so much by the challenge
as the desire to shut up Tin Cup.

          Any game, I name it?

          Oh, come on, David --

          I just want to teach him a lesson.

          Why do men insist on measuring
          their dicks?

Tin Cup takes her literally and rises, starting to
unbuckle his belt.

                        TIN CUP
          Awright, awright! Let's measure,

          right now!

          For God sakes, I wasn't being
          David, let's go.

          Molly, trust me on this one. Call
          it part of his mental preparation
          for the Open, where the rough is
          deep, the greens are slick, and
          the nerves are shattered.
                 (to Tin Cup)
          I'll take the bet.

          Oh, jeez...

The Regulars cheer -- this is what they live for. Simms
hands a roll of cash to Molly. Tin Cup hands her his car

                         TIN CUP
          Awright!   What's the game?

          One swing each. Who can hit the
          longest seven iron --

                        TIN CUP
          It's a lock! I hit the seven like
          John Daly hits a three!

The Regulars whoop it up. Their man's a cinch. Tin Cup
pulls a ball from his pocket, drops it right on the
ground in the middle of the patio.

                        TIN CUP
          From right here, okay?

          Fine with me.

          You guys are really being
          childish --

          Molly, leave this one to me.

                        TIN CUP
          Dr. Griswold, I know what I'm

Tin Cup takes a couple of swings to limber up, aiming out

onto an open area of the course.   Serious, intent, the
look of eagles...

                        TIN CUP
                 (to himself)
          Dollar bills...

He takes a full back-swing, opens beautifully, and
launches a seven iron like a rocket out toward some
driving range markers... to "oohs" and "ahhs" from his

The ball lands at a 170 yard marker and bounces further.

          Them signs are at least thirty
          yards farther -- that ball musta
          gone 220...

                        TIN CUP
          That ball's about 2-2-7... toed it
          a bit... but it'll do...

          Nearly 230 with a seven!    Pureed
          it, baby, he pureed it!

Tin Cup hands Simms the seven iron.

                        TIN CUP
          Take a minute to limber up, fine
          with me --

          Don't need to.

Simms is still in a sport jacket, slacks, no golf shoes.

                        TIN CUP
          Take your jacket off?

          No, no, I'm fine.

Simms drops a ball about where Tin Cup's sat.   He stands
above the ball and addresses it.

                         TIN CUP
          You're gonna need to muscle up,
          big guy -- give it the old steroid

Simms is cool as ice. He smiles, then moves around to
the other side of the ball, suddenly facing away from the
course. This baffles everyone.

               What the hell you doin'?    Wha's

     And David Simms hits an effortless seven iron out toward
     the desert, onto the lonely highway...

59   ... and the ball bounces and bounces and bounces, for    59
     About three miles, forever. It's probably still going...

60   CLOSE ON TIN CUP                                            60

     The hustler's been hustled.


     She shrugs and smiles.

                                                     CUT TO:


     Molly drives away in Simms' car -- followed by Simms in
     Tin Cup's Cadillac convertible. Simms waves.

     Tin Cup and the Regulars stand alone. Weakly, lamely, a
     couple of the Regulars speak. Without conviction.

               You the man, Roy...

               You definitely the man...

                                                     CUT TO:

62   INT. GOLDEN TASSEL - NIGHT                                  62

     A nearly nude dancer named SAMMANTHA on stage to a big
     Saturday night crowd. Tin Cup's in the front row,
     sitting with Doreen and a beer. Disconsolate.

                             P.A. ANNOUNCER (V.O.)
               Bring out those bills, boys, if ya
               wanta see a little more of

     Guys pull out singles and larger bills around the runway,
     placing them on the railing for the gyrating stripper.

                      (to Tin Cup)
               Hey, honey...


Tin Cup tosses some money onstage with a lackluster
wave, he's depressed -- or something.

                           TIN CUP
          Hey, honey...

          I heard you qualified for the
          Regionals -- why you so down?

                        TIN CUP
          I broke my clubs -- don't ask why,
          my caddie's pissed off at me, I
          lost my wheels in a sucker bet,
          and my shrink thinks I'm a fool --
          'cause I probably am...

          You're seeing a therapist?!

                        TIN CUP
          Yeah, what's wrong with that?

          Only way you'd ever go into
          therapy was if the shrink was a
          doll and you were trying to get
          her into the rack --

                        TIN CUP
          You're so shallow. The Good
          Doctor and I are dealing with my
          regression and denial --

          Oh, Tin Cup, what a crock.    You
          got a hard-on.

A GUY from the next table leans over, interrupting.

          You `Tin Cup'?     Won the Local with
          a seven iron?

                           TIN CUP
          That's me.

          McAvoy?   The Tin Cup McAvoy?

          There's only one -- thank God...

                         TIN CUP
          Yeah.   You looking for a game?

          No, but I'd sure like to show you
          my grip...

Doreen can't keep his attention. Neither can Sammantha,
who writhes only a few feet away.

          How long have you been seeing this
          `Good Doctor'?

                        TIN CUP
          Excuse me, Dor', the man's having
          trouble with his grip --

The Guy slides over to Tin Cup, quickly joined by his

          See, I used to play a real weak
          grip. But you look at Couples,
          he's got a left hand way over

Tin Cup glances at the guy's grip.

                        TIN CUP
          No, grip it like this, so you're
          holding on with the last two
          fingers of your left hand.

The Guy nudges the COWBOY next to him.

          See that? Tin Cup McAvoy says you
          grip a golf club like this, with
          these two fingers.

                  (off no response)
          Roy?   Tin Cup? Hello?

                        TIN CUP
          The grip and address are about 90
          percent of the golf swing, so pay
          attention here...

          When you're done with him, can I
          ask you about my club position at

Sammantha can't keep their attention, either, even though
she's down to a G-string, inches away. At the height of
the MUSIC, she stops dancing and looks down at Doreen --

               Am I doing something wrong?

               No, honey, you ain't -- but a
               healthy woman's only got two
               choices in this world of ours...
               Either fall in love with another
               woman -- or take up golf.

     And Doreen heads to the dressing room, disgusted, but not
     at all surprised. She knows Tin Cup -- she knows men.

                             TIN CUP
               ... Now the stronger right-hand
               grip can help ya draw the ball,
               which I plan to do at the
               Regionals next week in Tulsa...
               just shift the hand over a little
               bit... blah, blah, blah...

     ... And naked women dance before them, unnoticed.

                                                    CUT TO:

63   EXT. ROUTE 66 (SOMEWHERE IN SOUTHWEST) - DAY                63

     The WINNEBAGO CHUGS along in the middle of nowhere.

64   INT. WINNEBAGO - DAY                                        64

     Tin Cup drives, as most of the Regulars lounge -- all are
     there including Turk (the bouncer). But Romeo is

               We get through the next 36 holes
               and we in the Open!

               I got the yips and I ain't even
               teeing it up...

                             TIN CUP
               Nothing to worry about, boys --

               But you ain't got Romeo?

                              TIN CUP
               Don't need him till the Open --
               he'll be back.

               But you don't got the doctor lady?

                             TIN CUP
               Oh no, I got her. Right here.

     He holds up a tape cassette.

                             TIN CUP
               She can't travel to Arizona for
               the Regionals -- she's got a busy
               practice, y'know... so she made me
               this tape to play while I'm out
               there... keep me calm, cool, and

               What's on it?

                             TIN CUP
               A little James Taylor, little
               George Jones, little Kahlil
               Gibran, little this, little
               that... and a lotta the voice of
               the smartest chick I ever met.

               The good doctor herself...

               Can we hear it or is it personal?

                             TIN CUP
               Since when is therapy personal,

     He punches into his deck and the Winnebago is filled with
     the sounds of MOLLY'S TAPE, beginning with George

     ... and the voice of GEORGE JONES takes us into...

                                                    DISSOLVE TO:

65   EXT. LA PALOMA GOLF CLUB (ARIZONA) - DAY                      65

     The Regional Qualifier -- 36-hole tournament pitting all
     the local winners. This is a much bigger deal than the
     local tournament -- more commercial, bigger crowds,


     Accompanied by MOLLY'S VOICE and the MUSIC of JONES,



     He puts the Walkman headset over his ears on the first
     tee. We hear what he hears, and --

                              MOLLY (V.O.)
                       (on tape)
                ... `Private victories precede
                public victories. You cannot
                harvest a crop before you plant

     Kaboom!   He launches a tee shot down the middle.

                              MOLLY (V.O)
                       (on tape)
                ... `How you view the problem, is
                the problem...'

66   TIN CUP chips into the cup.                                66

67   TIN CUP drains putt after putt with confidence.            67

                              MOLLY (V.O.)
                       (on tape)
                ... `Follow your bliss...'

68   TIN CUP takes a club from Earl who's huffing and           68
     puffing a little too hard for a caddie, and --

     Tin Cup crisps a three iron over water to a tight green.

     Tin Cup is carrying his own bag now -- Earl is several
     paces behind, dragging his body slowly, exhausted.

69   CLOSE ON SCOREBOARD -- Even par, even, even, one           69

                              MOLLY (V.O.)
                       (on tape)
                ... `Say not that I have found the
                truth but that I have found a

70   CLOSE ON TIN CUP -- Still in a zone, confident,            70
     relaxed, hitting lots of good shots. But the score is
     close, the competition tougher. He's near the top,
     but not first.

71   TIN CUP lips out a fifteen-foot putt -- heartbreak.        71
     He starts to lose it, but...

                             MOLLY (V.O.)
                      (on tape)
               ...`You can't have the fruits
               without the roots...'

     And Tin Cup just smiles and taps in.

72   SCOREBOARD tells us we're down to the 36th, final hole.    72

73                           TIN CUP                            73
               Whattya think, Earl?

               I think three under will qualify.
               You need birdie. I could shit.

                             TIN CUP
               A little more confidence there,

               I wish Romeo was here. I ain't
               cut out to do this. I'm a
               spectator by nature. An observer.
               I'm a --

                             TIN CUP
               Shut up and hand me the Big Dog.

               You got it.

     Tin Cup takes the driver and uncoils a beauty.

                             TIN CUP
               The Force is with me, pods...

                                                      CUT TO:

74   TIN CUP hits a wedge approach -- the ball lands inches     74
     from the hole. The crowd gasps... but --

     The backspin grabs it and the ball spins back and back
     and back, ten, twenty, thirty feet before coming to a

     The men head solemnly to the final green.

                                                      CUT TO:

75   EXT. LA PALOMA - 18TH GREEN - DAY                           75

     Tin Cup surveys the thirty-foot snake of a putt.   Earl's
     of absolutely no use.

                              TIN CUP
               We need this one big time, Earl,
               whattya think?

               Looks straight to me.

                             TIN CUP
               Straight?! Thing's a roller
               coaster breaks four ways and dies
               at the hole -- you're blind!

               Actually, I am blind... 20-60 in
               one eye -- and that's the good

                              TIN CUP
               I got a blind caddie... just hold
               the stick, Earl -- and be sure to
               pull it out...

     Tin Cup studies the hell out of this putt. If it goes
     in, he's in the Open. He misses, back to Salome.

                             MOLLY (V.O.)
                      (on tape)
               ... when the going gets tough,
               the, the, the, whirrrrrrrrrrr,
               the, the...

     Tin Cup shakes the Walkman and pounds his ears.

                             TIN CUP
               Doc?  Doc?
               Earl, Earl -- the tape's jammed!
               She's abandoning me!

               Are you okay?

                             TIN CUP
               Yeah, yeah... I'm flying solo


                             TIN CUP
               I gotta make this putt.



     Tin Cup stares endlessly at the long putt.

                             TIN CUP
               ... just pick the line, feel the
               speed -- bad timing, doc, Jesus...

     He steps up to the putt, still talking to himself.

                             TIN CUP
               Like a million others you made in
               your life, Roy. Just see it going
               in. Just feel it... right in the
               back of the jar... just pull the
               goddamn trigger, you pussy...

76   He strokes the putt -- It starts right, curls back          76
     left, straightens out, over the ridge, back again,

                             TIN CUP
               Pull the stick, Earl, pull it!

     Earl's having trouble with the flagstick, shaking it,
     panicking, and finally -- he snaps it free, but...

     The ball stops dead on the lip of the cup.

     Tin Cup contorts in anguished body-English, then falls to
     his back like a shot animal.

                             TIN CUP
               Choking dogs die!

     And the BALL falls into the cup with a CLICK -- and a

     Tin Cup takes a peek at the cup.   The ball stays in the

                                                    CUT TO:

77   EXT. HIGHWAY - NIGHT                                        77

     The Winnebago returns home, a travelling party of beer,
     boisterousness, and celebration. We hear them all, led
     by Turk the bouncer and his guitar, singing "The Double
     bogey Blues"... all the way back to Texas.

                                                    CUT TO:

78   EXT. DRIVING RANGE - DAY                                78

     Tin Cup arrives, fresh from the qualifier.   Romeo is
     shafting glubs.

                             TIN CUP
               Romes!  You've come back!
                      (no answer)
               You shoulda been there, Romes, I
               drained a 30-foot snake to
                      (off no answer)
               Earl gave me a straight read --
               the thing broke half a dozen times
               -- missed ya, pods!

     Romeo gives him the silent treatment.

                             TIN CUP
               Okay, don't talk to me -- but
               you're still my guy...
                      (losing patience)
               It's a little late to be pissed
               off! We're in the Open! You and

     Still nothing from Romeo.

                             TIN CUP
               Awright, be that way --
                      (switches course)
               -- say... has Molly been around?

               I knew you had the hots for her.

                             TIN CUP
               What's this? Garbo speaks? Of
               course I have the hots for her and
               I'm doing a damn good job of
               keeping things platonic and
               professional till I kick Simms'
               ass and show her I ain't who she
               thinks I am because, in fact, I am
               who she thinks I am but if I win
               the Open I won't be.

     Romeo stares back at that curious logic.

               Well, I don't think her nor me nor
               the God of Golf his self can keep
               you from blowing up in the Open...

                             TIN CUP
               I made it this far! I just got to
               hold it together for 72 more


           There's a lotta triple bogeys out
           there waiting to grab your ass.

                         TIN CUP
           You're complaining again! Romeo's
           back! Whining, bitching, pissed
           off -- you're my man!

Silence.   Some chagrin.

           You didn't fall in love with Earl
           to be your caddie?

                         TIN CUP
           He was a wheezing heart attack
           waiting to happen -- cost me
           three strokes a side...
           I carried my bag the last four
           holes. I love ol' Earl but I need

           You don't love me?

                         TIN CUP
           I love you, too, God damn it!

           As much as Earl?

                         TIN CUP
           I don't know! Yes, yes, as much
           as Earl --
           More than Earl!

           Am I special?

                         TIN CUP
           If you can remove the sexual
           connotations and overlay a golf
           theme, Romeo -- I am your Juliet.

Romeo ponders it all.

           Muy bien, Julietta. In that case
           -- I am your caddy once again.

                             TIN CUP

     They shake hands.

                             TIN CUP
               Awright... now that we got that
               bullshit outta the way, I'm gonna
               hit me some balls and start oilin'
               that sweet swing o' mine for the
               big boys...

     Romeo sits back in the shade, still washing the thousands
     of golf balls in the rack, watching as --

79   Tin Cup drops a bucket of balls on the hardscrabble           79
     ground, pulls out a club and limbers up.

                             TIN CUP
               Nobody heard from Molly, eh?

               You got it bad, don't ya?

                             TIN CUP
               Somethin' about that chick...

     Tin Cup addresses the ball and takes a swing.    Everything
     looks normal in his swing, but...

     Thwock! -- the BALL squirls off to the side and RATTLES
     against a fence. Ugly.

                             TIN CUP
               Hmmm... little chili dipper

               Be sure to do that in the Open.

     Unfazed, Tin Cup steps up to hit again, but... once
     more --

     Thwock! -- Another horrible-looking squib to the right.

     Romeo stops washing balls and notices, watching Tin Cup.

     Thwock, thwock! -- Something's terribly wrong.


     Concern crosses his face.

                             TIN CUP


               I'm watching.

                             TIN CUP
               It ain't no chili dipper.

               Yeah, boss, you got the 'S' word.

                             TIN CUP
               What am I doing wrong?

               Shanks are like a virus -- they
               just show up. Nobody can figure
               'em out.

     Thwock, thwock, thwock! -- Three more chili dippers.   Our
     man definitely has the shanks. And he's panicking.

                              TIN CUP
               Romes!   Something's terribly
               wrong.   What's your guess?!

               It's the woman.

                             TIN CUP
               I thought you said it was a virus?

               A woman can have the same effect.

                               TIN CUP
               What do I do?

               Keep swinging...

                                                    DISSOLVE TO:

80   EXT. RANGE - THAT NIGHT (MUCH LATER)                          80

     Thwock, thwock, thwock! -- Night has fallen and he still
     has the shanks.

     The regulars have gathered and are huddled, murmuring.
     The word has spread like wildfire -- Tin Cup has the

               Never thought it would happen...

               The shanks is for us mortals, not

          for the great ones...

          Esta muy feo... muy, muy feo...

(It is very ugly, very, very ugly...)

Tin Cup angrily throws his club out into the night and
turns to the regulars.

                        TIN CUP
          Y'know why they named this game
          'golf'? 'Cause the words 'fuck'
          and 'shit' were already taken!

A CAR HORN HONKS -- All heads turn to see:


pulls in -- Doreen gets out, carrying a big package.

          Hiya, fellas!

                        TIN CUP
          What is this? Everybody like to
          watch a train wreck?!

Doreen approaches the regulars, and we notice for the
first time that there are a number of bags and packages
with the boys.

          He's in one of his pleasant moods,
          I see --

          He's got the shanks. We got the
          makings of a Greek tragedy here.

                 (shouting to
                  Tin Cup)
          Quit whining and get over here.
          We've got something for you.

Tin Cup drags his sorry ass to the group.

                        TIN CUP
          Unless it's a 'swing thought,' I'm
          not interested...

                 (ignoring his
          We're here to sponsor you in the

          Open. Me an' the boys have pooled
          our resources and come up with
          some cash so you can look and feel
          as spiffy as all them big-name

                        TIN CUP
          But I got the shanks --

          Yeah, and you obviously still have
          a hard-on for the doctor chick --
          your face is all screwed up and
          tight like you haven't been laid
          in awhile --

                        TIN CUP
          Is it really that obvious?

          It's not a good look for you.
          Roy, your heart is not the only
          organ you wear on your sleeve.
          There's a certain, vulgar appeal
          to your transparency.

Tin Cup shrugs.   She always has him outflanked.

          C'mon, Tin Cup, we're trying to
          make you a presentation --

                        TIN CUP
          Awright, awright...

She unwraps a tour golf bag -- Big gold and red lettering
advertises "The Golden Tassel." Pastie tassels hang from
all over the bag. Doreen sets it down proudly.

          I got the Golden Tassel to sponsor
          you at the Open.

                        TIN CUP
          You expect me to pack that around?

          I'm carrying the bag.

          It's worth four hundred dollars
          endorsement money to you --

Earl steps forward with a golf shirt bedecked with sewn
on patches and logos.

          See, Dewey got you First State
          Banking of Salome, and Clint got
          you Short-Haul Trucking and I got
          you Brink and Brown sanitation --

                        TIN CUP
          I'm being sponsored by a sewage
          disposal system?

          We call it human resources
          management, Roy, please...

Jose steps forward with a golf cap, also emblazoned.

          I've got Wally's Smokehouse for ya
          -- kind of a nice sign...

          And since I couldn't get the post
          office to come aboard, me and my
          girl friend Muriel's gonna buy a
          fan club patch you can put anywhere
          you want.

Doreen and the regulars look at Tin Cup proudly.

                        TIN CUP
          I'm supposed to wear this shit?

          This shit is us, man.   You can't
          win without us.

          You're the pride of Salome!

                        TIN CUP
          Hell, I won't even make the cut!

          What happened to your confidence?

          He's shanking his love life so
          he's shanking the golf ball.

          Must be true love.

          He's a goner.

Tin Cup surveys all the bizarre sponsorship loot, and
starts loosening up. These are his people, after all,

     and they're behind him all the way.

                             TIN CUP
               Look, everybody, this is great.
               I'm sorry I'm acting so pathetic
               but my swing's never abandoned me
               before. I just need a little time
               to work it out.

               Anything you want --

               Give him some room, boys --

                             TIN CUP
                      (to anyone who'll
               Maybe it's my grip... maybe I'm
               opening up too soon... too late...
               coming over the top... no,
               dropping underneath...
               Oh, sweet Jesus, why have you
               abandoned me?

                      (to the regulars)
               He's trying to talk to God.   It's
               time for us to go.

     Doreen and the regulars quietly slip away to leave Tin
     Cup with his newly sponsored gifts and, more importantly,
     his newly lost grip, swing, and confidence.

               You want me to stay, boss?

                             TIN CUP
               I need to be alone.

               You got it.

     And Romeo herds the rest of them out to their cars in the
     lot. And as they drive away, Tin Cup sits down, his head
     in his hands.

                                                    DISSOLVE TO:

81   EXT. RANGE - NEXT MORNING                                     81

     The Winnebago sits forlornly in the parking lot next to
     the range which has never looked lonelier.

     Tin Cup's Caddy convertible pulls up to the Winnebago.

     But Roy isn't driving -- Molly is.    She gets out, goes to
     the door.

     She knocks.

               Roy?   Anybody home?

     There's no answer so she tries the door, and walks in on:

                                                     CUT TO:

82   INT. WINNEBAGO - MORNING                                      82

     Tin Cup stands there caught, like a deer in the
     headlights, like a man caught cross dressing, a private
     confession made public -- he can't run and he can't

     Roy "Tin Cup" McAvoy is wearing every gimmick that Molly
     first arrived with -- plus many more. He wears a
     pendulum cap, his arms are strapped together, a curious
     triangular coat hanger type contraption connects his
     elbows, there's a neck brace, an ankle anchor, an arrow
     attachment to his left hand, a bucket for right foot, he
     swings a collapsible club... and a BEGINNERS GOLF VIDEO
     PROJECTS loudly from his VCR, so loudly that he never
     heard her knocking.

               My God...

                                TIN CUP


                             TIN CUP
               Dr. Griswold...

     A moment of pathetic silence, then:

     Molly starts laughing -- He is destroyed.

                             TIN CUP
               The therapist laughs at her
               patient? Is that how it works? A
               man is laid bare before God and
               he's the butt of the cosmic joke?

               I'm sorry, I just...

                             TIN CUP
               Some of this shit might actually

          work, y'know... I mean I think
          there's something to this hat
          with the pendulum golf ball
          thing... may be on to something

          Oh, Roy, Jesus... Quoting yourself,
          'It is the paraphernalia for lost
          and desperate souls.'

Tin Cup lets down. The wind goes out of his sails and he
loses his defensiveness.

                         TIN CUP
          Well, God damn... a lost and
          desperate soul stands before you.
          I assume I have the
          confidentiality of doctor-client
          privilege in regards to this

          Of course you do. What happened?

                        TIN CUP
          I got the shanks.

          Are you taking penicillin?

                        TIN CUP
          It can't be treated! It's much
          worse than whatever you thought it
          There's a glitch in my swing.

          So it's in Romeo's department?

                        TIN CUP
          He thinks it's your department --
          says it's a head thing.

          Oh. Well. I just came over to
          congratulate you on the regionals
          and return your car -- David says
          he doesn't want it, just wanted to
          make a point with you --
          But I suppose we could have a
          therapy session right here and now

                        TIN CUP
          I don't want therapy. I want you.

          Roy...   I gotta get some air --

                        TIN CUP
          Look at me --
                 (considering what
                  that means)
          Well, not right at the moment --
          but listen to me. You're with the
          wrong guy. I'm the right guy.
          Everyone tells me my face is all
          screwed up tight as a drum 'cause
          I've been crazy about you from
          the day you showed up wearing
          this stupid stuff and the whole
          damn thing has both inspired
          me to get here on the verge of
          greatness yet it's also caused
          me to get the shanks which
          could humiliate me in front of
          a zillion people.
          Such is life. So dump that phony
          bastard and come to the Open in my
          corner -- you can delay your
          romantic urges, which I know are
          lurking in there among the excess
          of brain cells you possess --
          until the appropriate time...
          Tell me you're not at least
          moderately attracted to me.

Tin Cup stands there with the ball still dangling from
his hat, the leather straps, the bucket, the arrows --
for the moment he's forgotten how stupid he looks.

          You have moments.

                        TIN CUP
          Tell me which ones are my moments
          and I'll try to duplicate them.

          This is a moment. You look great.

                         TIN CUP

          Utterly exposed, completely
          vulnerable, the inner child trying
          to get out.


                             TIN CUP
               My inner child needs spanking.

               You always liked that part about
               saddling up, the smell of leather

                             TIN CUP
               C'mon, let's have a drink. Call
               it therapy. Charge me 75 an hour.
               Little Cuervo, little Freud...

     She's thinking about it.

               Naw... I gotta go.
                      (turns to leave)
               Oh, I don't have a car, I
               need a ride.

                                                    CUT TO:

83   EXT. ALONG RIVER BACK TO TOWN - DAY                       83

     Tin Cup and Molly in his convertible.   He works on her
     without pushing too hard.

                             TIN CUP
               I know a spot along the river's
               great to watch the sunset?

               Not tonight.

                             TIN CUP
               'Not tonight' means maybe some
               other night?

               I didn't mean it like that.

                             TIN CUP
               Consciously you didn't mean it
               like that -- but how about
               unconsciously, you're the expert,
               did you mean it unconsciously?

               Unconsciously, Roy, I don't have a
               clue what I'm talking about.

                             TIN CUP
               I feel we're making progress.

                  I do too. But I have no idea what
                  it's progress towards...

A84     EXT. MOLLY'S OFFICE - DUSK                                 A84

        The Caddy pulls up in front of her office at the new
        mall. She gets out.

                  Good luck in the Open, Roy.

                                 TIN CUP
                  Put your money on me, Doc, the
                  odds are fabulous and God knows
                  I'm overdue...

        He drives away, and we stay:


        Watching Tin Cup careen away in his Caddy.

                                                         CUT TO:

84/85   EXT. SOUTHWESTERN HIGHWAY - DAY                            84/85

        The intrepid Winnebago on the way to the Open.    Romeo
        drives -- Tin Cup stares out the window.

                  You got to relax, boss --

                                TIN CUP
                  Goin' to the U.S. Open with the
                  shanks. Gonna be chili dipping my
                  way around the course on worldwide
                  television... sure, relax.

                  I'm gonna get rid of them shanks
                  for ya. No hay problema.

                                TIN CUP
                  Molly and I are circling each
                  other... I can feel it...

                  She the enemy, boss.

                                TIN CUP

               Well she wakin' up with the enemy
               -- same thing.

                             TIN CUP
               Tell me something, Romes -- the
               absolute truth -- you think I can
               go 72 holes without falling apart.

     Romeo keeps driving, pretends not to hear.

                             TIN CUP
               You heard me! I don't want no
               bullshit... do you think I can do

               I don't know, boss, I just don't

     And Tin Cup puts on his Walkman, and stares out the
     window endlessly at a thousand miles of passing scenery,
     to the MUSIC of GEORGE JONES...

                                                    DISSOLVE TO:

86   EXT. DESERT - DAY                                             86

     The WINNEBAGO RUMBLES out of the country heading east,
     and --

                                                    DISSOLVE TO:

87   EXT. CENTRAL TEXAS PLAINS - DAY                               87

     The Winnebago heads out of the high plains.

                                                    DISSOLVE TO:


     The Winnebago passes through a "tunnel" of tall, old
     pines into a cathedral environment of old money and
     old golf.

90   INT. WINNEBAGO - DAY                                          90

     Romeo and Tin Cup stare out into the trees, the lushness
     -- a couple of wide-eyed kids.

                             TIN CUP
               I bet this is the first Winnebago
               they ever saw here...


          Yeah... and the first Mexican...

The Winnebago pulls up to a guard gate -- A SECURITY
GUARD comes to the window. A banner hangs above the
entrance a few paces past the security gate, proclaiming:
"Old Pines -- U.S. Open Championship."

                        SECURITY GUARD

          Como esta, amigo. I have with me
          one of the legendary ball strikers
          in the history of golf --

The Security Guard strains to see in.

                        SECURITY GUARD
          Who's that? Mr. Crenshaw? That you?
          Mr. Price, Mr. Norman? No?

Tin Cup leans across Romeo to introduce himself.

                        TIN CUP
          Roy 'Tin Cup' McAvoy.
          Representing the great American

The Guard backs off quickly, turns to his SECOND.

                        SECURITY GUARD
          Do we have a... McCormack... on
          the list.

          McAvoy -- Roy McAvoy -- he's a

                        SECURITY GUARD
          We got over 150 legends in this
          tournament. Sorry.

Romeo starts cursing in Spanish.   The Guard is unphased.

                        SECURITY GUARD
          Call the police.


The police quickly appear to take over the situation.
Tin Cup leaps out of the Winnebago to argue his point.

                        TIN CUP
          There's a mistake here, fellas!


A COP grabs Tin Cup and Roy is ready to fight.   It's
getting ugly real fast.

          We'll throw your ass in jail right
          now, pal -- there's a lotta
          lunatics here and we don't take

At that moment David Simms pulls in, driving a con-
vertible sponsor's car. He sees the scuffle, gets

          What's the problem here?

                        SECURITY GUARD
          This clown says he's in the

Simms spots Tin Cup -- a delicious moment for him. Tin
Cup wants to hide but he just gamely covers his face.

                        TIN CUP
          Hiya, David... nice sweater.

                        SECURITY GUARD
          He's not on the list.

Simms takes the clipboard with the list.

          Hiya, Roy... welcome to the big
                 (checks the list)
          Here ya go, Charlie, his name's
          right here.
                 (to Tin Cup)
          They spelled your name wrong --
          easy mistake with a total unknown.

                        SECURITY GUARD
                 (to Cop)
          Let him in.

Simms smiles at Tin Cup, the easy smile of a man on top.

Tin Cup doesn't respond, just asks the Guard:

                        TIN CUP
          Which way to the practice range?

As Tin Cup tries to regain some dignity, and climbs back
into the Winnebago --

                             SECURITY GUARD
                      (to Simms)
               He said he was a 'legend'?

               Oh he is... he's a very big name
               at a driving range in Salome,

     They all have a good laugh, and --

                                                    CUT TO:

91   EXT. PRACTICE RANGE - DAY                                   91

     Lots of the big names are there.   Romeo is like a kid at
     the ballpark.

               Look! Right there! Fred
               Couples... and Ray Floyd!

     Romeo notices that Tin Cup is staring at the pile of
     practice balls lying there on the tee.

                             TIN CUP
               Look at these balls. Brand new
               Titleists. Lookit 'em, every one
               a brand new Titleist.
                      (lowers his voice)
               Sneak a few in the bag when you
               get a chance. We swipe enough
               free shit we might even pay for
               this fiasco.

     Tin Cup limbers up, trying not to be in awe of the real
     legends who line the practice range, hitting beautiful
     shot after beautiful shot with graceful ease.

               You think it would be
               inappropriate to ask Ray Floyd for
               an autograph?

                             TIN CUP
               I think it's a dead giveaway,
               Romes... but if I still got the
               shanks we're gonna be found out
               real fast...

     Tin Cup nudges a ball from the pile into address
     position. Romeo hands him a different club.

               Hit the seven iron. You never
               miss the seven...


                         TIN CUP
           Good thought, Pods...

Tin Cup waggles, shakes, limbers, addresses...

                         TIN CUP
           Dollar bills...

And he swings.

THWOCK! A hideous shank squirrels across line, almost
hitting a group of U.S. Open officials. Heads turn.

                         TIN CUP
                  (to anyone who'll
           Who hit that shot? Anybody see?

He addresses another one.   And swings.

THWOCK!   A disaster.   He crumbles.

           A little thin, Boss.

                         TIN CUP
           A little fucking thin?! I still
           got the shanks! Everybody's
           watching! Christ, Simms is here...

Simms has arrived and is watching Tin Cup with delight as
he loosens up.

           Maybe we should work on putting.
           Ya can't shank a putt.

Tin Cup pretends to limber a little more before daring to
strike another ball.

                         TIN CUP
           If you're the Mexican Mac O'Grady,
           Romes, you gotta figure out why
           I'm still shanking the ball.
           What's the problem? I'm catching
           it on the hosel, right? Moving my
           head? I'm laying off it, I'm
           pronating, I'm supinating, I'm
           clearing too early, I'm clearing
           too late, I'm off plane, I ain't
           dropping in -- oh, God, my swing
           feels like an unfolding lawn chair.

           You got a virus in your brain.   I

          got to kill the brain to kill the

                         TIN CUP
          Anything.   Kill me now!

          Put all your change in your right

Tin Cup follows orders, not questioning the logic.

          Very good. Now tie your left
          shoelace in a double knot.

Again, Tin Cup dutifully follows orders.

          Esta bueno. Now, turn your hat
          around backwards and put a blue
          tee behind your right ear...

                        TIN CUP
          I'll look like a fool.

          What you think you look like
          hitting those squirrelly chili
          peppers up Freddy Couples' ass,
          eh? Do what I say or I quit.

                          TIN CUP
          Okay, okay...

          Perfect... now hit a seven iron
          into that tree over there. You're

Tin Cup hits a perfect seven iron into the trees.

                        TIN CUP
          How'd I do that?

          You ain't thinking about shanking,
          you ain't thinking about the
          doctor lady, you ain't thinking
          period. You just lookin' like a
          fool and hittin' it pure -- your
          natural state.

                          TIN CUP
          Fuck you.

               You cured.

                             TIN CUP
               That's it?

               That's it. Your brain was getting
               in the way.

                             TIN CUP
               That's rarely been a problem.
               What now?

               Well, I should recommend you go
               work on your short game but I
               think it's better if you go get
               drunk instead.

                             TIN CUP
               Get drunk?

               Yeah. You always play better when
               you're wasted.

     Tin Cups stares at the swami, and --

                                                    CUT TO:

92   INT. WINNEBAGO (IN PARKING LOT) - NIGHT                    92

     Again to GEORGE JONES on the CASSETTE PLAYER, Tin Cup is
     doing a slow dance with his driver.

     Romeo sits on the couch, stone cold sober, pouring drink
     after drink for Tin Cup, who's thoroughly plastered.

                             TIN CUP
               It's three in the morning, Romes,
               what time I tee off?

               Seven-o-five... first group off...
               Keep drinking, keep dancing...

                             TIN CUP
               That's four hours from now?

               You're drinking till five...
               c'mon, c'mon, have another --
                      (a tough coach)
               Get you in shape --

      Tin Cup tosses down yet another drink, and staggers
      around the room with his driver until, finally, he
      collapses in a heap on the floor. Romeo looks down
      at him coolly, like horse trainer Wayne Lukas sizing
      up his Derby entry.

                Nothing like the sight of a
                finely-tuned athlete on the verge
                of greatness...

      Romeo tosses a blanket over Tin Cup lying on the floor.

                                                    CUT TO:

A93   EXT. PINE HILLS CLUBHOUSE - EARLY MORNING                    A93

      Two figures hurry across the lawn to the first tee.    Our
      intrepid Don Quixote and Sancho Panza.

93    EXT. GOLF COURSE - EARLY MORNING                             93

      The first tee -- the early morning air is heavy and
      still. The course is quiet and wet with dew. The
      gallery is sparse. The silence is broken by the
      starter's voice.

                              STARTER (V.O.)
                With the honor in the 7:08
                pairing, from Salome, Texas,
                Mr. Roy McAvoy.

      A half-dozen people clap, and --

      Tin Cup and Romeo stagger to the tee, barely making it on
      time. Tin Cup is massively hung-over and unshaven.

                              TIN CUP
                No time for a bucket, eh?

                Almost missed the starting time
                trying to get you off the floor,
                boss. You don't handle the hooch
                like you used to...

      Tin Cup tries to get warm quickly, taking a few hurried
      practice swings. The early tee times are strictly for
      the longest of long shots, and almost nobody is around.
      Tin Cup's hand shakes as he closes the Velcro flap on his
      glove. He's wearing the hat and shirt with the sew-on
      patches, as he stares down the first fairway.

      Romeo hands him a driver.

               I seen this hole on TV. Hit the
               big dog down the chute --

                             TIN CUP
               No, I've learned my lesson. Gonna
               play it safe, smart, conservative.
               Fairways and greens. Hand me the
               two iron.

               You sure?

                             TIN CUP
               Thought of the day is -- `be

     And Tin Cup launches a two iron down the first fairway.

                                                    DISSOLVE TO:

94   EXT. SCOREBOARD - DAY (LATER)                                 94

     The scorer posts an eighty-three next to Tin Cup's name.

     Tin Cup stares, shell-shocked, as his score is posted.

               Eighty-three.    Well, you humble

                             TIN CUP
               Eleven bogeys and seven pars. I
               didn't make a three. I didn't
               make one goddam three all day.

               You weren't trying to make threes.
               You were trying to avoid making

                             TIN CUP
               I was hungover!

               Maybe that was a coaching error on
               my part.

                             TIN CUP
               Thanks, amigo...

                                                    CUT TO:



     David Simms is interviewed.

                             SIMMS (V.O.)
                      (on the television)
               I'm the last person who expected
               me to come out of the blocks with
               a sixty-seven and lead the Open...
               It's been a long time since I
               played this game with the fire and
               determination you need to win...

                             TIN CUP
               The Anti-Christ shoots 67, you
               believe it?

               Ol' Anti-Christ got a hot

                             SIMMS (V.O.)
                      (on television)
               ... you see, this game is all
               about integrity and tradition and

                             TIN CUP
               What? It's about cheating and
               racism and bullshit!

               Easy, boss...

                                                    CUT TO:

96   EXT. JUST OFF EIGHTEENTH - DAY (SAME TIME)               96

     Live coverage of the Simms interview. Molly is among a
     small crowd gathered to watch. He doesn't seem to know
     that she's there.

                      (live on mike)
               So tomorrow I'll just go out there
               and try to make some good swings
               and, Lord willing, maybe I can put
               up another good number. Thank

               Thank you, David Simms, a
               brilliant opening round 67 to take
               the lead.

     Simms walks away, now off-camera.   FANS call out --

               David!   David!     Over here!

               Gotta go.

     Simms cuts down behind the tent toward the clubhouse,
     away from the galleries. The marshals open a rope
     allowing him to avoid the crowds, but --

     An ELDERLY COUPLE with a young child are there.   The lady
     has a tiny dog in her arms.

                             OLD MAN
               Excuse me, Mr. Simms!
                      (off no response)
               Can you sign an autograph for our

               Can't you see I'm busy?! I'm
               working! This is my office! Do I
               come to your office and ask you
               for an autograph?! Jesus...

     He practically stiff-arms them as he passes, heading up
     to the clubhouse. They stand there in shock.

                      (muttering to
               Who the fuck these people think
               they are...

     CAMERA PANS OVER TO the edge of the tent. Molly, trying
     to get to David, has seen the whole thing.


     She speaks to herself.

               Old people, children, and dogs...

                                                   CUT TO:

97   INT. CLUBHOUSE BAR - SUNSET                                  97

     Simms enters to numerous congratulations from officials,
     caddies, other PLAYERS. Instantly, in public, he feigns
     humility with convincing flair.

                             PLAYER #1
               Helluva round, Dave!


             Got lucky out there...

                           PLAYER #2
             Great start, Simmsy...

Simms stops when he sees Tin Cup and Romeo drowning their

             Hey, Tin Cup -- heard you put a
             monster number up there...

                           TIN CUP
             Coulda been worse...

A small bar crowd is enjoying Simms' taunts.

             I played in the Pro-Am with some
             asshole movie star shot 82 here
             once... how did a great ball-
             striker like you, a `legend,'
             manage to shoot an 83?

                           TIN CUP
             I missed a four foot putt on the
             eighteen for an 82, that's how...

             It ain't like playing some muni
             track in Brownsville, is it?

A voice interrupts.

             Does, `integrity, tradition, and
             honor' include kicking a man when
             he's down?

             Oh, Mol', this is just guy stuff,
             bar talk, part of the game -- no
             offense, right, Cup?

No answer.    Tin Cup's about as low as one can go.

             This man still has a lot of good
             golf shots in his system --

                           TIN CUP
                    (trying to hide)
             Molly, it's okay, go away... I
             don't need any attention right


                        SOME GUY AT THE BAR
                 (to Tin Cup)
          You the guy shot 83?!

          David, I'll bet you a hundred
          dollars right now that Roy here
          can hit a ball --
                 (looks around)
          -- from right here to... through
          that door to the patio...

She points to a double door, forty feet away across, the
bar, about an 8 x 8 foot opening.

                        TIN CUP
          Molly, please...

                 (to bartender)
          And give me a vodka tonic with a
          twist --

          Molly, really, this isn't...


                        TIN CUP
          I wanta go back to Texas...

          What about the river, the piranha,
          the immortality? All that
          bullshit? You gonna drag your ass
          home with an 83?
                 (looks around)
          In fact, two hundred says he can
          hit it through that door, over the
          patio, into the river, and make
          that pelican fly off that post.

Everyone strains to look --


A pelican sits on a piling in the river.   Impossible.


          This is ridiculous...

But Romeo's sizing it up.

          You got that shot, Pods, hood the
          seven, turn it over, start it low,
          right to left...

Molly takes a swig of her drink and slaps some money on
the bar.

          I'm not leaving till one of you
          men starts acting in a manly

Simms puts a hundred dollar bill on the counter.

          Let's just get this over with.
          One ball, one swing, one gull.


Tin Cup still sits, head half buried at the bar. He's
never passed up such an opportunity, but he's pretty low.

          You the man.

He turns from his bar stool, glances at the situation.

                         TIN CUP
          One swing?   Four to one odds.

          I'll make it ten to one. Stick it
          up your ass. I'm leading the

          Now we're talking! Manly men!

Whoas! From the barside gallery. Tin Cup rises and
someone hands him a club. Suddenly there's a crowd,
including Gary McCord who's been watching from the far
end of the bar. He grabs a seltzer hose as if it's a
mike and begins announcing.

          ... He's looking at thirty yards
          of bar and grill, an opening
          through the French doors, forty
          yards of patio umbrellas, a

               hundred yards of water, and a
               lonely pelican sitting out there
               in a 15 mile an hour breeze, south
               by southwest...
               He'll probably try to shut down a
               four iron -- no, he's selected his
               trusty seven iron...

     Tin Cup steps up to a ball lying on the carpet.

                             TIN CUP
               Kind of a thin lie...

               Beats all that deep rough you were
               in today...

               Fore in the grill! Fore on the
               patio! You're the legend, boss...

     Tin Cup suddenly backs off the swing and turns to Molly.

                             TIN CUP
               What is this all about?

               Shut up and hit the ball.

                      (on "mike")
               The Ledge still has to be thinking
               about that brutal, ego-sapping,
               manhood-robbing eighty-three he
               buried himself under yesterday. I
               mean, that's just an avalanche of
               golf swings, a landslide, a
               pyroclastic flow --

                             TIN CUP
               Dollar bills...

98   And he swings -- the ball rockets through the hall and     98
     clears the open door...

     The bettors pile from the bar and grill and race to the
     patio to watch the flight of the ball, as --

     It's carrying, it's hooking, it's carrying, then:

     THWACK! -- It hits the piling!    The SEAGULL lifts off,
     SCREECHING angrily.

               Stiff, baby, stiff!


99    A whoop goes up -- And Simms storms out.                    99

                I'm outta here. You're all nuts.

                I musta been blind thinking you
                were worth a shit, Simmsy!
                Drinks on me, boys! Helluva shot,

                              TIN CUP
                Actually I thinned it a little or
                that pelican'd be flying around
                with a Titleist up his ass...

      This is the old Tin Cup -- and he's in the clubhouse with
      an eightyfuckingthree.

                                                     CUT TO:

100   EXT. WINNEBAGO IN PARKING LOT - NIGHT                       100

      Pouring rain -- Lightning and THUNDERSTORMS.   It pours
      down on the club and the beat-up RV.

      Romeo stands outside with an umbrella, dragging on a
      cigarette, trying to stay warm.

101   INT. WINNEBAGO - NIGHT                                      101

      Tin Cup and Molly in bed, lit only by light spilling in
      from a parking lamp. They make love with enthusiasm,
      finally wobbling to a stop.

      Silence, except for the rain.   Until:

                              TIN CUP
                I kinda shanked it, eh?

                No, no, no... you were great...

                              TIN CUP
                Tempo is everything...

                Perfection's unobtainable...

                              TIN CUP
                Mighta rushed it on the downswing...

                Come over the top a little...

                              TIN CUP
                Yeah... well, as Walter Hagen once
                said -- 'Sex and golf are the only
                two things you can be bad at and
                still enjoy...'

                Let's take a mulligan and tee
                it up again --

      They embrace with enthusiasm and start thrashing again.

102   BACK OUTSIDE                                                 102

      Romeo's patience is getting thin.   He pounds on the door.

                You guys done yet? This is no
                time for a marathon...

      The rain keeps coming down.

                                                     CUT TO:

103   EXT. GOLF COURSE - NEXT DAY                                  103

      Galleries line fairways and fill stands. The course is
      wet, the skies threatening, but play is underway.

104   EXT. TELEVISION TOWER - DAY                                  104

      JIM NANTZ in the booth.

                The sun is struggling to come out,
                the course is drying up, and in
                case you're just joining us, the
                leaders have just reached the
                ninth hole because of delayed
                starting times --
                -- David Simms is clinging to a
                one shot lead over Peter Jacobsen...
                but the real story is out on
                sixteen where a driving range pro
                who shot an opening eighty-three
                is making a run at perhaps the
                most legendary round of golf in
                Open history, Johnny Miller's
                sixty-three at Oakmont -- Ben
                Wright is in the tower at


                                                      CUT TO:

105    EXT. SIXTEENTH HOLE - DAY                                   105

       We hear Ben Wright's voice as Tin Cup marks his ball on
       the green. A small gallery has begun to follow him.

                               WRIGHT (V.O.)
                 If anyone was ever to make a run
                 at what is the most storied number
                 in Open history, Miller's sixty-
                 three, it would be today when the
                 rain has softened the greens,
                 enabling the players to take dead
                 aim at the flags. Still, the
                 unswerving courage of an unknown
                 driving range pro from Salome has
                 raised that humble journeyman from
                 the ashes of an ignominious
                 eighty-three to wave a mighty fist
                 at the pantheon of golf's
                 immortals. This man, this Roy
                 McAvoy has laid siege to the
                 record book by birdieing the first
                 seven holes. A brave par from the
                 water at eight, and a glorious
                 birdie three at the daunting
                 twelfth, another at thirteen...

       Tin Cup gets his read, and steps up to putt.

                               WRIGHT (V.O.)
                 ... this putt to go ten under for
                 the day...

       Tin Cup putts -- When the ball is still two feet from the
       hole, Tin Cup raises his putter in triumph... and sure
       enough, the ball drops in the hole.

                                                      CUT TO:

106    EXT. GOLF COURSE - HIGH ANGLE - DAY                         106

       Golf fans stream from other fairways to catch up as:

A107   EXT. SEVENTEENTH GREEN                                      A107

       Tin Cup knocks his approach to within six feet of the
       cup. The swelling gallery at the green roars.

                                                      CUT TO:


107   INT. DRIVING RANGE (SALOME) - EVENING                       107

      Doreen is behind the till. The regulars and several
      customers crowd the counter, staring up at the TELEVISION
      as Dewey rushes in from his job.

                They said on the radio he was ten
                under --


      Silence, everyone watching the TV, everyone starting to
      contort in body-English, then:

      A joyous roar -- Tin Cup's putt went down.    Earl twirls
      with glee.

                He's shooting the lowest round

                And eighteen's a par five. A
                birdie there, he shoots sixty!

                We gotta go, boys. We gotta get
                us on a Continental Trailways and
                find this damn place!

                                                      CUT TO:

108   EXT. TELEVISION TOWER - DAY                                 108

      The MONITOR shows Tin Cup approaching his ball in the
      fairway. Ken Venturi is commentating.

                McAvoy's hit another big drive,
                but this is not a shot he wants to
                get aggressive with...

109   EXT. EIGHTEENTH FAIRWAY - DAY                               109

      Tin Cup and Romeo survey the shot -- a long downhill
      carry over a lake to a slightly elevated green. A shot
      similar to the one he pulled off at the best-ball.

                Two-sixty to carry, Roy. You got
                to lay up, man. I don't care how
                good you swinging. You got to lay


      Tin Cup looks at the iron Romeo proffers. He looks back
      at the shot, throws some grass in the air, testing the
      wind. He looks at the gallery, the lake, the green, the
      whole grand setting... and then:

      He locates Molly behind the gallery ropes, watching.    She
      makes a little charging gesture with her fist. And:

      Tin Cup reaches defiantly past Romeo and pulls out the
      three wood.

110   EXT. TELEVISION TOWER - DAY                                   110

      Venturi and Nantz watch Tin Cup set up to play the shot.

                His adrenalin's gotten the better
                of him, Jim. If he lays up he
                takes bogey out of play.

                              VENTURI (CONT'D)
                But if he knocks this ball in the
                water he could make seven or eight.
                And he still has to think about
                making the cut.

                Well, every golf fan in America is
                pulling for him.

111   Wearing that look, the look of eagles, Tin Cup addresses 111
      his ball... And he swings -- The ball arches off his
      club, the gallery roars, and...

                                TIN CUP

      ... Tin Cup drops the three wood on his bag, even as:

                Carry, honey!    Please!   Carry!


      The ball plunks in the water inches short of dry land.


      Tin Cup smiles at Molly with chagrin but not defeat.    He
      turns to Romeo.


                              TIN CUP
                What the hell. You ride 'er till
                she bucks you or you don't ride at
                all. I can save par from here.

      Tin Cup hits a wedge to within five feet.

                Up an' down...

                                                         CUT TO:

112   INT. PRESS TENT - EVENING                                    112

      Tin Cup is on the dais, fielding questions from

                              REPORTER #1
                How do you go from shooting an
                eighty-three one day to a record-
                breaking sixty-two the next?

                              TIN CUP
                Well, it wasn't from clean

      Laughter from the reporters.       Reporter #1 follows up.

                              REPORTER #1
                If you had to do it again, would
                you still go for the green on

                              TIN CUP
                Yeah. And I'll go for it tomorrow
                and I'll go for it Sunday, cuz I
                didn't come here to play for no

                                                         CUT TO:

113   INT. WINNEBAGO - NIGHT                                       113

      Tin Cup, Molly, Romeo all asleep -- In the same bed.

                                                         CUT TO:

114   EXT. GOLF COURSE - LEADER BOARD - DAY                        114

      showing Simms -8 through twelve, Jacobsen -7 through
      fourteen and McAvoy -7 through seventeen.

115   EXT. EIGHTEEN - DAY                                          115


      A huge gallery lines the fairway and girds the green as
      Tin Cup approaches his ball in the middle of the fairway.
      The fans holler "You da man" at Tin Cup.

                                                    CUT TO:

116   INT. TELEVISION TOWER - DAY                                 116

      Nantz and Venturi in the booth. Tin Cup is on the
      monitor, arriving at his ball. We hear SHOUTS from the
      GALLERY, encouraging him to go for the green.

                It's the same shot he knocked in
                the water yesterday. And the
                thing for him to do right now is
                to tune out the gallery, rein in
                his emotions, and forget what he
                said in yesterday's interview. He
                has to lay up.

117   EXT. EIGHTEENTH FAIRWAY - DAY                               117

      Romeo palms the seven iron, waiting for Tin Cup to decide
      on his play.

                              TIN CUP
                Gimme the three wood.

      Romeo picks up some grass and flips it in the air.   It
      blows away from the green.

                There's wind up there.

                              TIN CUP
                I know.

118   INT. TELEVISION TOWER - DAY                                 118

      The announcers see Tin Cup taking out the three wood.

                Well, he hasn't shown an ounce of
                fear all day.

                This isn't courage, Jim. This is
                inexperience, pure and simple.

119   EXT. EIGHTEENTH FAIRWAY - DAY                               119

      Tin Cup steps up to his shot.

                              TIN CUP
                This is for Venturi, up there in
                the booth, thinking I should lay
                       (addressing his ball)
                Dollar bills...

      He swings and holds the pose. He caught the ball
      perfectly -- it sails high and true into the luffing
      breeze, the GALLERY ROARS, and...

      ... the ball drops, SPLOOSH! into the WATER, a couple
      feet short of dry land. The GALLERY GROANS.`


      Staring amazed, almost betrayed, that his ball didn't
      carry the water.

                              TIN CUP
                That's a long fucking ways.
                       (holds out his hand)
                Gimme another ball.


                                TIN CUP

                It's a water hazard. You go up
                there and take a drop. Try to
                save par like you did yesterday.

      Tin Cup's eyes blink with thought as Romeo's words get
      through to him.

                                TIN CUP
                You're right.    What the hell was I

      And he starts down to the water. A THUNDEROUS OVATION
      greets his approach, and he raises his hat to salute the
      fans saluting him.

                                                       CUT TO:

120   INT. PRESS TENT - AFTERNOON                                120

      Tin Cup snarls at the impudent question of Reporter #3.

                              TIN CUP
                I saved par, didn't I?

                              REPORTER #3
                I'm just trying to understand your
                thinking. You were in the same
                spot on eighteen yesterday without
                a headwind and you --

                              TIN CUP
                You don't think I can knock it on
                from there?

                              REPORTER #3
                It seemed like a low-percentage

                              TIN CUP
                So am I! Look at me. I'm playing
                       (points at his
                        sew-on patches)
                ... Rio Grande Short-Haul
                Trucking, Brink and Brown
                Sanitation, First State Bank of
                Salome, Wally's Smokehouse...
                You think a guy like me bothers
                to think about the percentages? --

                                                     CUT TO:

121   EXT. WAFFLE HOUSE - NIGHT                                121

      A low-rent roadside cafe specializing in waffles.

122   INT. WAFFLE HOUSE - NIGHT                                122

      Tin Cup, Molly and Romeo study the menu.

                I've got some money from the
                pelican bet -- why don't we go
                somewhere fancy and celebrate --
                get ready for the final round.

                              TIN CUP
                Nothing to celebrate yet. Plus
                these are my people. I'm a waffle
                house guy -- gotta stay in touch
                with that...

                Plus he needs his carbohydrates --

                        TIN CUP
          If the boys from Salome was in
          town -- this is where they'd be...

The boys from Salome walk in -- with Doreen, all looking
like hell from the long bus trip. They're ecstatic to
see Tin Cup and Romeo.

          The legend!

          God damn, we been driving for two
          days to help you in the last round --

          Saw the Winnebago outside -- we're

          Sixty-two!    Sixty-two!

                        TIN CUP
          We're home now!

          You boys a sight for sore eyes.
          We so damn sick of guys in blazers
          and slacks that don't wrinkle. It
          ain't natural 'round here...

          Congratulations, Roy -- we're with
          you all the way.

                        TIN CUP
          Doreen, meet Dr. Griswold... er,
          Molly... my shrink --

          We're sleeping together now so I
          can't be his therapist.

          I knew it.

          Knew what?

          Nothing, dear. Good luck.
                 (looking around)
          Say, I have a little extra cash --
          why don't we go somewhere fancy
          and celebrate -- y'know, kinda get

                ready for the final round?

      But the Regulars overwhelm her.

                This is the Waffle House, Doreen --

                Hell, I been dreaming of waffles
                for 1800 miles...

                They got a waffle house in Odessa
                just about like this...

                Odessa?   It's in Midland, ain't it?...

                No, it's in Odessa.

      They all pull up chairs and settle in for a long evening
      at the Waffle House.

      Tin Cup leans back in his chair, turns to Molly.

                              TIN CUP
                It just don't get much better than

                You the man, Cup, you the man...

      Romeo leans over to Doreen amidst the chaos and speaks
      with suave elegance.

                You're looking particularly lovely
                this evening... the coif is

                Why thank you... Romeo.

                                                      CUT TO:

123   INT. WINNEBAGO - NIGHT (LATER)                             123

      All twelve of them are asleep or nearly so in the R.V.,
      sprawled on and over every surface. Much snoring.


      Her face close to Tin Cup's.    Both awake.

                  You nervous about tomorrow?

                                TIN CUP
                  Yeah, I'm nervous. So's everybody
                  else. But I only gotta come and
                  catch Simms. Sixty-seven guys
                  gotta come and get me...

       Silence.   Except for the random snore.

                                TIN CUP
                  It won't always be like this...
                  y'know... with me... surrounded by
                  all these guys... snoring... a
                  stripper ex-girlfriend on the
                  floor... my caddie sleeping next to
                  her... all of us damn near
                  broke... won't always be like

       She puts her finger over his mouth gently.

                  Yes it will... yes it will... and
                  it's okay...

                                                        CUT TO:

A124   EXT. WINNEBAGO - DAWN                                           A124

       Tin Cup slips out of the trailer -- Romeo follows.

                                                        DISSOLVE TO:

B124   EXT. RANGE - EARLY AM                                           B124

       Tin Cup hitting golf balls alone, except for the faith-
       ful Romeo, getting ready for the final round of the U.S.

                                                        CUT TO:

C124   INT. WINNEBAGO - MORNING                                        C124

       Molly serves coffee to the regulars.     She's upset.

                  Which one of you is the bookie?

                  We all are, but Earl's the best.

                 What are the odds that Roy will win?

                 Vegas has him at ten to one. They're
                 sure he's gonna self-destruct.

                 Those sound good to me -- I want
                 you to place a bet for me. Five
                 thousand nine hundred dollars on
                 Tin Cup to win.

      They stare nervously.

                 That's your nestegg.

                 That's a bad idea, honey -- we
                 love him, but he's gonna fuck-
                 up --

                 I said put it all on Roy.    Got

                 We can't let you --

                 Boys --

      Silence.   Molly's in charge.    She hands them a roll of

                 Put it all on Tin Cup.

      Earl reluctantly takes the money.

                                                       CUT TO:

124   EXT. PUTTING GREEN - MORNING                                124

      Tin Cup hits putts, intense, focused.    Peter Jacobsen
      works his way over to Tin Cup.

                 Looking a little tight, Ledge.

                               TIN CUP
                 Musta got too much sleep last
                 night. How you choking?

                Just got one thought in my head.
                Ten under. That's my number.

      Tin Cup looks up, amused by the gamesmanship.

                              TIN CUP
                No one's ever been ten under for
                the Open, not even Nicklaus.

                That's right, Ledge. Not even

      And he moves off to putt. Tin Cup drops a couple balls
      on the green to putt, and:

      A ball rolls past them and into a hole.   Tin Cup looks
      over and sees Simms.

                Sorry, Roy, can't believe I didn't
                see you with all that high-priced
                endorsement crap you're flaunting.

                               TIN CUP
                That's always been your problem,
                Dave. You don't think about
                winning; you just want to look
                       (turns away
                         to putt)
                Thing is, this ain't a beauty
                       (turns back, getting
                         in Simms' face)
                And it ain't a rain-shortened Quad
                Cities or a Greater Greensboro you
                can back into. This is you'n me,
                pal. This is match-play, and this
                time you ain't getting no three

                                                      CUT TO:

125   EXT. FIRST TEE - HIGH ANGLE - DAY                          125

      A large gallery surrounds the tree and lines the fairway

                With the honor in the final
                pairing, from Salome, Texas, Mr.
                Roy McAvoy.

      Boisterous applause.   Tin Cup tips his cap and nods at

      David Simms, his pairing in this the final twosome of the
      final round of the U.S. Open.

                              TIN CUP
                Fairways and greens, Dave... and
                don't forget to wave as I blow by.

                You mean blow up? Like you always

      And Tin Cup moves to the tee.

      His hand shakes worse than it did the first day as he
      tees his ball. Stepping back to line up his shot, he
      peers down the fairway through a narrow corridor of
      faces. A daunting sight. He edges over to Romeo and
      tautly whispers:

                              TIN CUP
                Do me a favor. Bet me a buck I
                don't put it in the fairway.

                I bet you a hundred.

                              TIN CUP
                Okay, good.
                       (going to tee off)
                Puts things back in perspective.

                                                     CUT TO:

126   EXT. FIRST HOLE - MINUTE LATER                               126

      Tin Cup looks at his ball, almost invisible in the deep
      rough. He tries to locate the green beyond the trees
      that surround him. In golf parlance, he's in jail. He
      selects a club.

                Which way you going?

      Tin Cup points over the trees.   Romeo grimaces.   Tin Cup
      addresses the shot. Then:

      Tin Cup swings -- the ball flutters weakly out of the
      rough and disappears into the branches of a bushy tree,
      dropping eventually next to its trunk, and:

                                                     CUT TO:

127   LEADER BOARD                                                 127

      A scorer changes the number beside Tin Cup's name from -7

      to -5.   Simms is still -7.

                                                      CUT TO:

128   EXT. THIRD TEE - DAY                                        128

      Tin Cup arrives on the tee where Simms now has the honor.

                 Nice double, Roy.

                               TIN CUP
                 Just keep making pars, asshole.

                 I'll take eighteen of 'em.

                               TIN CUP
                 And I will own you.

                                                      CUT TO:

129   EXT. THIRD GREEN - DAY                                      129

      Molly and Doreen stand together behind the big gallery.
      Molly is using a cardboard periscope to look over the
      gallery to the green. Doreen is on her tip-toes but all
      she can see are the backs of heads.

      A swell of cheers builds, then turns to groans.

                 Oh no, Tin Cup ran it five feet
                 How did he get the name 'Tin Cup'?

                               DOREEN (O.S.)
                 He played catcher on the high
                 school baseball team. The star
                 pitcher had this big-league curve,
                 and not all his pitches hit Roy
                 in the mitt. Finally, you gotta
                 respect a man's doggedness. You
                 The team decided Tin Cup sounded
                 better than Clank.

      Molly puts down the periscope at that remark, and hands
      it to Doreen.

                 'Clank''s not a good name for a


      Doreen looks through the periscope.


      lining up a putt.   She pans over to Romeo helping him.

                              DOREEN (V.O.)
                Tell me something, Molly... have
                you ever had a Latin lover?

                                                     CUT TO:

130   EXT. LEADER BOARD                                          130

      The regulars study the board -- the scruffiest lot ever
      seen at an Open. Next to them stand a group of U.S.G.A.
      officials, all in neat, matching blazers. The contrast
      is thrilling.

                Our boy's in trouble... ya think
                he's chokin'?

                Our boy don't choke. He fucks up
                but he don't choke...

      The scorer changes the number beside Tin Cup's name to
      -- -4. Simms is -7, and --

                                                     CUT TO:

131   EXT. TV TOWER - DAY                                        131

      Wright looks at the monitor where Tin Cup stands among
      some trees.

                              BEN WRIGHT
                This is disaster for McAvoy.
                After losing three shots to par in
                the first four holes, he should
                have just taken iron off the tee
                to get the ball in play. Does he
                have any shot at all, Gary McCord?

132   EXT. FIFTH HOLE - DAY                                      132

      Tin Cup's ball lies on dirt next to the trunk of a tree.
      He surveys his options. Behind him, wearing a headset,
      McCord analyzes the situation for the TV viewers.

                This is definite jail. This is
                life without parole. His only
                chance to stage a jail-break is go
                at the ball left-handed and hope
                he can somehow snake it back into
                the fairway, and save par from

      Tin Cup glares balefully back at McCord. Then he walks
      over to a nearby tree, and surveys the line to the green
      from it. He walks back for his ball, turns to McCord...
      and we see that familiar fierceness aflame in Tin Cup's

                              TIN CUP
                Fifty bucks says I knock it on...
                with a seven iron.

      And he selects the seven iron, addresses the ball right- handed,

      He swings -- the ball rockets low off his club, and...

      ... it ricochets off the trunk of a nearby tree, and...

      ... it bounces up the fairway, skitters past a trap, and
      trickles onto the green, stopping ten feet from the pin.

      The gallery goes crazy as Tin Cup steps from the woods
      collecting his money from McCord while jabbing a taunting
      finger at Simms.

133   INT. TELEVISION TOWER                                       133

      Nantz and Wright stare at the monitors.

                That took balls...

134   EXT. GOLF COURSE                                            134

      Simms ignores Tin Cup's taunt, and lines up his shot.

                       (to himself)
                That's just Roy being Roy. Just
                wait him out, Dave. Just make
                pars. Let him make the mistakes.

      And he hits his iron to the fat part of the green, and --

                                TIN CUP (O.S.)
                Beauty, Dave.    Par written all
                over it.


135   EXT. LEADER BOARD                                           135

      The scorer posts a -5 next to Tin Cup's name.   Simms is
      still at -7, and --

                                                      CUT TO:

136   EXT. GOLF COURSE - NINTH GREEN                              136

      Tin Cup intently follows the flight of his iron shot, as:

      The ball lands near the front of the green, bounces, then
      rolls, following the contour of the green. It finally
      stops five feet from the pin.

      A SWELLING, DEAFENING ROAR from the GALLERY accompanies
      the unfolding shot, and --

137   EXT. TENTH TEE                                              137

      Jacobsen looks toward the roar at the ninth green.

                He's making his run.

138   EXT. LEADER BOARD                                           138

      The scorer posts a -6 next to Tin Cup's name.   Simms is
      still at -7.

                                                      CUT TO:

139   EXT. TENTH GREEN - DAY                                      139

      Molly and Doreen watch Tin Cup drain a putt.

                       (still watching
                        Tin Cup)
                So why'd you leave him?

                You ever dated a guy who actually
                believes in soul mates?

                Actually, no.

                He thinks he's a tough guy, but
                he's a hopeless romantic.

      And as the gallery falls silent, she turns to watch Tin

                                                      CUT TO:

140   EXT. ELEVENTH GREEN - DAY                                    140

      Tin Cup's firmly-struck putt spins out of the hole.    The
      GALLERY GROANS, sharing his agony, and --

141   EXT. TWELFTH TEE                                             141

      Jacobsen, pausing to watch, sighs with relief before
      starting down the fairway.

                                                      CUT TO:

142   EXT. THIRTEENTH HOLE - DAY                                   142

      Tin Cup follows the flight of his approach, and up ahead

143   EXT. FOURTEENTH TEE - DAY                                    143

      Peter Jacobsen hears the GALLERY ROAR.   He turns to his
      caddie, incredulous.

                He's throwing darts back there.
                We gotta make birdies, Squeaky, or
                we are playing for second.

      And he snatches his driver from the bag, determined to
      make birdies.

                                                      CUT TO:

144   EXT. LEADER BOARD                                            144

      The scorer posts -7 next to Tin Cup's name.    Simms is
      still at -7, as is Jacobsen. And...

145   EXT. FOURTEENTH GREEN - DAY                                  145

      Jacobsen rolls a long putt into the hole, and as the
      GALLERY CHEERS, he points a finger of challenge back at --

      Tin Cup waiting in the fairway.   Tin Cup seems to enjoy
      the taunt.

                              TIN CUP
                That's right, Peter. You'n me.
                That's all there is.


      And he selects a club, and...

                                                       CUT TO:

146   INT. DRIVING RANGE (SALOME) - DAY                            146

      Tin Cup's fans, deeply into the beer by now, contort with
      body-english and holler at the TV screen.

                Get in there!    Come on!   Go down!

      They explode with cheers.   Some twirl with glee.   Others
      exchange high fives.

                He's tied for the lead again!    And
                they're running outta holes!

                                                       CUT TO:

147   EXT. TELEVISION TOWER - DAY                                  147

      The leader board is superimposed on the monitor.    McAvoy
      -8, Jacobsen -8, Simms -7.

                So it's come down to the seventy-
                second hole of this great
                championship, and the skill and
                courage of three Texans who have
                dueled throughout the day for the
                chance to be crowned Open
                Champion... Peter Jacobsen is on
                the fairway at 8 under, McAvoy at
                the 18th tee is tied at minus 8,
                and David Simms trails by one...

148   EXT. EIGHTEENTH TEE                                          148

      Tin Cup and Romeo watch Jacobsen hit his shot.

                              TIN CUP
                Jacobsen's laying up.
                       (turning to Simms)
                You ain't gonna have that luxury,
                Dave. Not if you play to win.

      He moves to the tee, and...

                                                       CUT TO:

149   EXT. TELEVISION TOWER                                       149

      The monitor shows Tin Cup's drive bounding down the
      middle of the fairway.

                McAvoy's hit a perfect drive, Ken.

                I'm not sure that's good news for
                McAvoy. With his inexperience,
                the last thing he needs is an
                excuse to fool with that water
                again today.

150   BACK TO TEE                                                 150

      Tin Cup whispers to Romeo as Simms tees up.

                              TIN CUP
                I didn't catch it all.

                Then you got to lay up.

      Simms rips a drive down the middle, the ball landing
      a little short of Roy's.

151   EXT. EIGHTEENTH FAIRWAY - DAY                               151

      Tin Cup in the fairway, studying his shot.

                              TIN CUP
                So birdie wins it.

      He looks at Simms, ten yards across the fairway from him.

                              TIN CUP
                You or me, Dave?

      Simms points to himself. He has a wood in his hands, but
      he puts the club back and reaches for an iron. Tin Cup
      edges closer to Romeo.

                              TIN CUP
                He's laying up. Birdie to tie,
                eagle to win, and that gutless
                wonder's laying up.

                Par to tie, birdie to win... you
                lay up too, Roy. You can make
                birdie laying up.


They watch Simms lay up. Then Romeo offers Tin Cup an
iron, hoping he'll take it.

                         TIN CUP
          You know something, Romeo? Eagle
          puts me ten under. No one's ever
          finished an Open ten under, not
          even Nicklaus.

          You don't need an eagle. Birdie
          wins, par ties.
          Hit the lay up. Hole a wedge for
          goddamn eagle.

Tin Cup throws some grass in the air, looks back at the
green, the gallery, the whole grand setting... and he
seeks out Molly's face in the crowd. He moves over so
she can hear him.

                        TIN CUP
          This is everything, ain't it?
          This is the choice it comes down
          to. This is our immortality...

          No time to be thinkin'
          'immortality,' Cup... time to be
          thinkin' 7 iron.

Molly stands with Doreen, hearing Tin Cup's words.
Thrilled and terrified and spellbound, she finds herself
nodding. Doreen, on the other is turning ash-white.

          Oh no. This is what always
          happens. He's going for it.

          Go for it!

          No! He just needs par to tie!
          Tell him to lay up! He listens to

          Go for it, Roy! Knock it on!

          This is why we split up -- he
          always went for it...

          My problem is I've never been with

                a man who went for it...

                Well, honey, he's your guy.


      He selects the three wood.    Romeo sighs.

152   EXT. TELEVISION TOWER - DAY                                152

                Good Lord, he's going for the

                This could be tragic.

153   EXT. EIGHTEENTH FAIRWAY                                    153

      Tin Cup's eyes focus with the look of eagles as he
      addresses the shot.

                              TIN CUP
                One swing, Roy. One good swing.
                Dollar bills...

      He swings -- the ball explodes off his club.   Tin Cup
      holds the pose...

                                TIN CUP
                We're home...

      Suddenly a gust of wind blows, out of nowhere, and Tin
      Cup's cap blows off, provoking immediate concern.

                              TIN CUP
                ... little gust there, Romes...

154   TELEVISION MONITOR                                         154

      Picking up the flight of the ball approaching the green,
      carried it seems by the swelling roar of the gallery.
      The ball clears the water...

      ... and lands at the top of the slope fronting the
      elevated green. It pops up in the air, lands just past
      where it hit, and comes momentarily to rest. The gallery
      roars. And then:

      The ball starts trickling back down the slope, gaining
      speed, moving towards the water, even as the gallery
      screams for it to stop...


      ... until finally it disappears into the water with
      scarcely a ripple.

155   BACK TO TIN CUP                                            155

      He stares first with betrayal, then with anger, and
      looks at Romeo, who just shrugs, then at Molly.

                You can still make par from up
                there --

                She's right, Pods, a drop and a
                stroke, up and down par -- we'll
                win it in sudden death.

      But Tin Cup still has the look of eagles. He's staring
      at the shot he just made, still holding the three wood.

                              TIN CUP
                I nutted that thing. Little gust
                from the gods cost me...

                Helluva move you put on that
                sucker, now let's get up there,
                take the drop, and make our par,
                tie Peter...

                              TIN CUP
                I can make this shot.

                Not now.

                              TIN CUP

      Tin Cup throws another ball on the ground.

                              TIN CUP
                I'm playing it from here.

                Take your drop and make your par!

      Tin Cup addresses the ball.

                                                    CUT TO:

156   EXT. TELEVISION TOWER                                      156

      Venturi nearly comes out of seat watching Tin Cup take a

      drop from his original lie.

                I don't believe this. He just
                took himself out of the tournament
                with that drop. He could have
                walked up to the hazard line,
                saved par with a wedge and forced
                a playoff with Jacobsen. Now he
                needs a miracle shot.

                              McCORD (V.O.)
                Ken, I'm right behind McAvoy here.
                And all he said to his caddie was:
                I can make it across.

157   EXT. EIGHTEENTH FAIRWAY - DAY                               157

      Tin Cup swings again -- The ball sails long and true once
      again, and once again...

158   ... it lands into the hill, bounces once, and trickles      158
      back into the water.

                               VENTURI (V.O.)
                Oh, my.   This is tragic.

159   BACK TO TIN CUP                                             159

      Holding his hand out to Romeo, as the gallery murmurs

                              TIN CUP
                Gimme another ball.


      watching behind the ropes.

                I can't believe he's doing this.

                I can, honey...

                He can blow the whole tournament!

                It's a miracle he lasted this

                                                      CUT TO:

160   REGULARS                                                  160

      waiting at the green, amidst the rest of the gallery
      who's in shock about Tin Cup's decisions to keep going
      for it, keep trying to prove a point.

                 He done blew a gasket, boys...

                 The wheels is definitely falling
                 off now...

                 It was a miracle while it


      Tin Cup swings a third time.

                                                      CUT TO:

161   EXT. EIGHTEENTH GREEN - DAY                               161

      A BALL lands SPLOOSH! in the WATER, and...

162   BACK UP FAIRWAY                                           162

      Tin Cup holds out his hand for yet another ball, saying

      Romeo hands him another ball.

      Tin Cup unloads another 3-wood.    Another splash.

      Tin Cup holds out his hand again.

                 This is your last ball, man. If
                 this gets wet, you disqualified.

                               TIN CUP
                 I can make it across.

      Tin Cup snatches the ball from Romeo's hand.

163   EXT. TELEVISION TOWER                                     163

      Venturi and Nantz can barely look at the monitor.


                This is the most painful thing
                I've ever watched.

                              McCORD (V.O.)
                Jim, this is the last ball he has
                in his bag. If he doesn't finish
                the hole with it, he can't turn in
                a card. He'll be disqualified.

      Venturi and Nantz cover their eyes.

      Tin Cup unloads another three wood -- another splash.

164   BACK TO TIN CUP                                             164

      He looks at Molly.


      She's just laughing.

      Romeo tosses down another ball -- Tin Cup launches
      his fifth attempt to clear the pond. Splash.

                You're right, Roy, what the hell!
                Let 'er rip!

                You two are made for each other.


      This is still all business to him.    He sets his jaw,
      addresses the shot, and:

                              TIN CUP
                Dollar bills...

      He swings -- another perfect shot... but this time the
      wind relents a knot, and:

165   BALL                                                        165

      clears the water, clears the slope, hits the front of the
      green, rolls up toward the pin, and drops in the hole.
      The gallery goes berserk!

166   BACK TO TIN CUP                                             166

      Raising his three wood aloft in triumph, he looks over at
      Molly and finally cracks a smile.


166   CONTINUED:                                                   166

      And when she smiles back, he takes his hat off and walks
      to the green, to as great an ovation as the game has ever

                                                         CUT TO:

167   BACK IN TELEVISION TOWER                                     167

      Venturi and Nantz slump, drained, over their monitors.

                                                         CUT TO:

168   INT. SCORER'S TENT - DAY                                     168

      Tin Cup and Simms sign their cards and get up to leave in
      unison. Simms turns to Tin Cup and has to shake his

                   I gotta hand it to you, Roy.   When
                   you go down, you go down in

                                 TIN CUP
                   Someday you can tell your
                   grandchildren you finished second
                   in the U.S. Open...
                   -- just don't tell 'em how.

      And he moves brusquely past Simms and out of the tent,
      congratulating Tubbs, the winner, as he passes.

                                 TIN CUP
                   Good job, Tubbsy... you won it.

      And out of the scorer's tent...

169   EXT. SCORER'S TENT                                           169

      A roar goes up from the milling fans as Tin Cup emerges.
      He tries to smile, but it's all dawning on him.

                                 TIN CUP
                   My God... I just gave away the

      And then McCord is there, shoving a mike in Tin Cup's

                 Ledge, I know it's tough to talk
                 right now, but --

                               TIN CUP
                 It's not difficult to talk... it's
                 difficult to explain... I coulda
                 laid up and still won. I made a
                 twelve on the last hole of the U.S.
                 Open. You know how much money
                 that cost me?

                 Cost you a bundle...

                               TIN CUP
                 I gotta get outta here.

                 It was the greatest 12 I ever saw.
                 Back to you, Jim...

       Tin Cup exits the scorers' tent and runs into the
       regulars -- They're beaming, undyingly loyal.

                               CLINT AND EARL
                 Greatest 12 I ever saw... you
                 crunched that dog, baby...
                 gorgeous shot, etc...

       He looks up and there's Molly -- He stops short.    They

                               TIN CUP
                 Molly, I'm an idiot. I gave away
                 the Open. The one time in my life
                 I know the play is to hit the lay
                 up -- my whole life and future
                 and career on the line, and I
                 still can't make myself do it. I
                 am a twisted human being and a
                 cautionary tale. And I guess I'm
                 a fool?

                 Yes.   A magnificent fool...

                                                       DISSOLVE TO:

A170   EXT. DRIVING RANGE (SALOME) - NIGHT                            A170

       Mosquitoes, pools of light, the TRACTOR CHUGS around
       picking up balls.

                                                       CUT TO:


B170   INT. DRIVING RANGE CAFE - NIGHT                          B170

       Romeo and Doreen eye each other -- locked in a stare
       of longing and mystery. TANGO MUSIC comes from a
       BOOM BOX. They begin to move toward each other
       in a tango step.

                                                      CUT TO:

170    EXT. DRIVING RANGE - NIGHT                               170

       Tin Cup and Molly are sitting, feet up, a couple Lone
       Star beers beside them, just taking in the warm Texas
       night. Her head rests on his shoulder. The world at

                               TIN CUP
                 Some people don't like West Texas
                 but I think it's the most
                 beautiful place on earth...

                 It has its charms...
                 Y'know, by finishing in the top 15
                 at the Open you qualified to be in
                 it next year --

                               TIN CUP
                 Damn, I didn't know that...

                 I'm thinking with your game you
                 should go back to the Qualifying
                 School, try to get out on tour...

                               TIN CUP
                 Then I wouldn't see you...

                 Actually, I picked up a whole
                 bunch of new clients at the Open.
                 Lotta guys on the tour said if I
                 could do that much for you,
                 imagine what I could do for

                               TIN CUP
                 There's a lotta head cases out
                 there, you could make a bundle...

                 And sleep in the Winnebago at


                         TIN CUP
           Y'know... a man goes through what
           I've gone through, he's supposed
           to learn something.
           I'm trying to figure out what I
           learned. Did I learn anything?

           You're learning some discipline and

                         TIN CUP
           And that there's a time in life to
           play it safe...

           That's great,   Roy... and I'm learning
           how to listen   to the tuning fork,
           throw caution   to the wind, and take
           crazy risks I   never thought were

                         TIN CUP
           C'mon, Molly, when did you ever take
           a crazy risk?

           I fell for you...


A desolate driving range outside of Salome, Texas. Bugs,
trucks passing in the night, and a tiny RADIO SENDING
GEORGE JONES across the plains.

                                                 FADE OUT.

                            THE END

Tin Cup

Writers :   John Norville  Ron Shelton
Genres :   Comedy  Drama  Romance

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