INT. DINING ROOM - NIGHT
PHILLIES OFFENSE throws down his fork, stands with a burst, and storms from the dinner table after a fight with his parents. It runs angrily up the stairs. We hear a door slam, loudly. DAD sighs.
DAD: That's the last time... this has got to stop. I'll be right back. Put my plate in the oven to stay warm, will ya, hon?
MOM nods, torn by the conflicting emotions of wanting to hang her head in shame and holding her chin high, confident in what her husband will do... for their son. DAD lumbers up the stairs, an air of foreboding on his face. The wrinkles around his eyes fill with character, reserve. He approaches the PHILLIES OFFENSE's room, and opens the door without knocking.
PHILLIES OFFENSE: What are you doing? Get out of my room!
DAD: Shut your mouth. Now you listen to me, because I'm sick of this crap: You need to get your act together, boy. I'm damn near sick of this stuff, walking around all dumb and pathetic.
PHILLIES OFFENSE (Sobbing sloppily): You don't know anything! You don't understand what I'm going through!
DAD: Oh for Christ's sake stop whining like that. Look at you. Look at you! You think I don't know. I know. How about you take a minute to know? Know why you ain't got no prom date yet? How's that, Mr. I don't know anything? Maybe 'cause every time I gas the car up and slip you a twenty with the keys you go and get yourself greasy food and video games. You ever think about that? Shoot if you want to fight in a war I'll drive you down to the hall right now and we'll get you one to fight in, tour of honor tough guy. Your friends on that computer there? You can't play ball with a computer! You can't walk up to a group of cute girls with your computer on the wing. This life's about doing, boy. Hear that! And you ain't doing much of anything but feeling entitled and not caring.
PHILLIES OFFENSE slowly sits on his bed. He grabs the pillow, pulls it close, and rests his chin on it. Delicately, he wipes his eye with the corner of the pillow case.
DAD: Stand up.
PHILLIES OFFENSE obliges.
DAD (softly, yet firmly): Right here (he gestures towards his eyes, PHILLIES OFFENSE looks into them). You have more talent in you than I ever coulda hoped for myself. Can do anything you want- we all know that. We've seen it. Believe in yourself, boy. Man up. Okay?
PHILLIES OFFENSE: Yeah, pop.
DAD: Alright then. Now get out there and give them hell. But gimme that watch back for now.
SLOW ZOOM OUT
CROSS FADE TO BLACK