STUDIO 60 ON ROOSEVELT AVENUE
EPISODE 2
WRITTEN COMPLETELY BY AARON SORKIN TOTALLY ALONE AND UNDER GREAT DURESS
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LOGLINE: Once the nation’s best and most respected baseball GM, Sandy Alderson has been reduced to trying to revive a moribund franchise is the depths of deepest, darkest Queens. Along with his sharp-witted and adoring protégés, he fights off the seemingly endless series of controversies and crises that beset him while trying to run a sports team in the country’s most bustling metropolis, and still look fantastic while doing it. Can the pressures of such an important job crush this singularly talented and gifted individual genius?
ACT I
SANDY ALDERSON’s office, looking out over the majestic replica ball field built on a studio backlot at great expense. The grounds crew waters the field, spraypaints the foul lines, and rolls down new sod. ALDERSON sits on one corner of his desk, leaning on a knee, as his star shortstop JOSE REYES sits across from him, slumped in an office chair, his eyes sad and downcast.
REYES: Sandy, there’s no easy way to say this…
ALDERSON: No one ever got anywhere by saying what’s easy. Just spit it out.
REYES: Fine. I’ve decided to reenter the priesthood.
ALDERSON: [wandering toward the window] I had a feeling that’s where this was headed. We always knew this was a possibility when we drafted you out of that Dominican seminary.
REYES: It kills me to let down the team like this, but it would kill me more not to answer the call of The Lord.
ALDERSON: I completely understand. Of course, there are many aspects of your faith that I find absurd, even offensive. However, I fought for my country so people could believe whatever insane notion they wish.
REYES: I appreciate that, although I’m sorry you feel that way about faith.
ALDERSON: I’m afraid I saw too much in the service to cling to faith anymore. I wouldn’t say I’m mad at God, just a little mad at some of his creations.
REYES: You’re a good man, Sandy. I hope one day The Lord can touch your heart again.
ALDERSON: I hope so too.
REYES: What will you tell the press? The fans?
ALDERSON: That’s no longer your concern. Go. And God bless.
As ALDERSON stares off into the middle distance, the camera pans down onto a groundskeeper raking the infield and lingers on him for an entire minute for some reason as a melancholy cello concerto swells.
