Lillenas Drama Presents Bases Loaded... Nobody s Home from Bases Loaded... Nobody s Home By Stephen Hicks & Jerry Cohagan Even in major league disagreements we must demonstrate God's love and forgiveness We first met the characters of Bob and Frank in the title sketch of our first book, He s Got My Number. In that sketch Bob and Frank had a little disagreement over the quality of Frank s chili at the church potluck, but by the sketch s end they both had learned some valuable lessons about friendship and forgiveness. Yet, lessons about forgiveness can be hard to learn sometimes. So we thought we would look in on Bob and Frank at their sons baseball game and see how they were doing. After all, sometimes we can wear our forgiving attitudes like a coat, something we can conveniently discard if the situation gets a little hot and bothersome. But we believe God empowers us to possess forgiving spirits in every circumstance. Otherwise we could be benched by the General Manager in this, the Game of Life! (Do you think we carried the baseball analogy a little too far?) Playing Time: 9 minutes Cast: BOB: A likable, somewhat outspoken guy. Maybe not the most athletic, but he can certainly remember others shortcomings. FRANK: A sensitive, enthusiastic, high-strung sports fan. Maybe a little too competitive. Props: 2 baseball caps 1 GooGoo Cluster candy bar
Bases Loaded...Nobody s Home BOTH (singing with their backs to audience): O er the land of the free... (both turn and face audience, each holds baseball cap over his heart), and the home of the brave. (FRANK reaches for the high note and warbles off key for all he s worth.) BOB: Don t hurt yourself, Tarzan. FRANK: I can t help it. I just love it when we get together to watch the kids play little league ball. And that National Anthem just makes me tingle. BOB: Me too. (Looking around) But the crowd s so small today maybe we should all just hold hands and sing Kum-ba-yah instead. FRANK: Either one touches me where I live. BOB: Me too. Me too. Hey, you know what? A thought has just occurred to me. FRANK: You re kidding. BOB: No. Why don t we show the kids that old cheer we used to do back in college! FRANK: They d love to see it! BOB: Let s get their attention. (Both begin yelling to their kids out over the audience.) FRANK: Hey, Frankie! Keep your eyes on old Dad, here! BOB: Bobby! Watch me! You re gonna love this! (They go through elaborate choreography with cheer.) BOTH: MaHe, MaHa, MaHo BOB: Rum a Nickel, Bum a Nickel FRANK: Nic Nak, Nap Cat, Soap Fat Rag BOB: Hobble Gobble, Ricker Racker FRANK: Hobble Gobble, Firecracker BOB: Hobble Gobble, Razzou FRANK: Johnny Blow Your Bazzou BOTH: Siss Boom Baa, Central Church Rah, Rah, Rah!! (Cheer ends with the two of them doing the wave. ) FRANK: Two-man wave! Two-man wave! Join in if you know it! Hey, you know what? BOB (both freeze with arms in air): What?
FRANK: We ought to talk to Pastor Harris about using this for call to worship. BOB: Good idea! FRANK (looking out at son, smiling): What s that, Frankie? (Beat, lowers his arms and glares) No, you can t tell the other boys you re adopted. BOB: That Frankie s a caution. You got three kids, don t you? FRANK (still glaring): Yeah, I got one of each. BOB: I hear ya. Don t the boys look sharp in those new uniforms? FRANK (puts his arm around BOB): I appreciate you helping em raise money by buying a case of those candy bars. BOB: Anything for the boys. (Digs out a candy bar from his back pocket) You can t ever have too many GooGoo Clusters. FRANK: Words to live by. BOB: I try. FRANK (nudging his belly): I can see that. (Points at kids) You know, that scripture verse on the back of their uniforms was my idea. That s the 26th chapter of Numbers. (Crosses his arms and stares proudly) BOB (staring out with his arms crossed too): Frank, are you sure we need the entire genealogy of the 12 tribes of Israel? (Both tilt their heads) It gets a little distractive trying to read it down the backs of their legs, there... FRANK: Yeah, but what a lineup in that first ball game of life! (Elbowing him in the ribs.) Huh! BOB: Yeah, I guess. FRANK (notices and points): Say, I didn t know Bobby, Jr., wore a catcher s mask? BOB (disheartened): That s not a mask, those are his new braces. FRANK (consoling): You gotta stop using the Home Shoppers Network. BOB: Tell me about it. Hey! Another thought has just occurred to me. FRANK: A day of miracles. BOB: Shouldn t we do what Pastor Harris is always saying? FRANK (remembering): P. G. P.! BOB: Pre-Game Prayer. FRANK: It s crucial for the kids attitudes. BOB (agreeing): Lead by example. Let s get em in for prayer.
(Both turn out and yell at kids.) BOB: Hey, you little moles! Get in here on the double! Frank s gonna lead us in prayer! FRANK: Hey! Hustle in here! Move your little bottoms! Let s huddle up! Let s pray! (FRANK and BOB stack their hands on top of each other s and bow for prayer.) FRANK (voice drops an octave): O Lord, we know that You are the great Scorekeeper in this ball game we call life. And we are but humble players about to take the field BOB (mutters under his breath): Sounds like Robert Schuller... FRANK (not missing a beat): As we step into that holy batter s box help us to swing hard... to swing high... (briefly sings) to swing low, sweet chariot. And as we steal those bases in Your name, may we always go in head first and never backslide. And as we make life s final slide toward home may You be there to greet us with the words we have longed to hear, Safe! In the Haven of Rest. Aaaaand, break! BOB: All right, let s kill em! Go in cleats high, Bobby! Cleats high! I sure hope Bobby gets to start. He usually ends up playing substitute right field. Last time anyone hit a ball to right field Amy Grant was still singing gospel music. FRANK: Frankie s starting pitcher, of course. You gotta admit he s got a great breaking ball. BOB: Yeah, he broke my window, my lamp, my windchimes... You should let him play outside more. Hey, look! I don t believe it! Bobby s catcher! FRANK: I hope Frankie s got his good stuff today, he s gonna need it. All right, Frankie! Show em what you re made of! (Both lean forward in anticipation.) There s the pitch! BOTH (together they pull back and grimace): Ohhhhh! BOB: He hit the first batter! FRANK (yelling at imaginary ump): He leaned into it, Ump! He leaned into it! BOB: The ball hit him on the rear, Frank! How do you lean into that? FRANK: Where there s a will, there s a way. (Berating umpire) If you had another eye, you d be a cyclops, Ump! That s all right, Frankie! Shake it off, shake it off. Show em your good stuff, now... BOB: Oh no, here goes another pitch. FRANK: It s a foul tip right at Bobby! BOB: Get your mitt up, Bobby! Get your mitt up! Look at that! He missed it completely!
FRANK (pointing): No! It got stuck in his braces! The umpire ruled it a fair catch! He s outta there! BOB: Way to go, Bobby! Way to keep that ball in front of you! FRANK: Great call, Ump! Hustle in, boys! Your turn to bat! BOB: Next time think about using your mitt. Daddy paid 60 bucks. (Shocked) Bobby s lead-off batter! (Yelling) All right, Bobby, just like the ol man taught ya, just get a piece of it, that s all. Just a piece of (Notices his son) No, Bobby, the skinny end... grab the skinny end. FRANK (mutters): Like father, like son... BOB: Be patient, Bobby, and wait for your pitch... FRANK: Strike one! BOB: That wasn t it... FRANK: Strike two! BOB: That wasn t it... BOTH: That was it right there, Bobby. BOB: Brand-new bat, never been used... FRANK: Looky there! Frankie s up next. (Proudly) He kinda looks like me out there, doesn t he? BOB: Yeah, except his knuckles don t drag on the ground. FRANK: Har, har. I love this game, though. The bonding that takes place between a father and son, the love and communication. (Launches into an elaborate display of coaching signs and baseball slang.) Hum-buddy, hum-buddy! Ducks on the pond, ducks on the pond! Rock-n-fire, rock-n-fire. Chatter, chatter! Pitchers got a rubber arm! Rock-n-fire, rock-n-fire! Ducks on the pond! Ducks on the pond! (Ends with his arms over his head signaling a touchdown) BOB (staring at him): You been spending too much time at those signs and wonders conferences, Frank. FRANK: Well, at least Frankie s not afraid to swing the bat. BOB: No, I can feel the breeze from his strikeout up here. FRANK: That s all right, Frankie! Well get em next time! BOB: Awww, Ratso Fatso! They re moving Bobby to right field. FRANK (mocking him): Awww, Groadee Patoedee! Maybe he can plant a garden while he s out there. Frankie s still pitching, of course. I ve been working on a new pitch with him, lately. BOB: What s it called, a strike?
FRANK: I ve had just about enough of your lip. BOB: All I m saying is that at least when I was a pitcher I didn t need a map to find home plate. FRANK: Frankie doesn t need a map to throw strikes. BOB: No! He just needs a nearsighted batter and a strike zone the size of your mouth! FRANK: Well, at least my boy doesn t ask the Sunday School teacher where you plug in the speakers to the Amplified Bible! BOB: Well, at least my boy s dad didn t try to poison the entire church with the chili of death! FRANK: I knew you would bring up my chili! BOB: So did everybody else! FRANK: My chili speaks for itself! BOB: Yeah, it s the shot heard round the world! FRANK (explodes): I ve had it with you! (Draws imaginary line with foot) You cross that line! BOB: I m crossing it! (Does so) FRANK: That was awful quick, cross this one... (Draws another one) BOB: I ll cross any line I want! Golden gloves in the Marines, buddy! FRANK: Don t come any closer! Don t you touch me or you ll be shredded wheat! (Argument ensues and men start grappling with each other. BOB has FRANK in a head grip when they both suddenly freeze and look out at boys.) BOB (plastic smile): Oh hi, Bobby... (Not letting go) FRANK (talking in a choked voice, grinning sheepishly): Hello, Frankie. What? Who us? We weren t fighting... BOB: More like a free exchange of ideas. (Lets go of FRANK) FRANK (rubbing his neck): What s a little spat among friends? (Punches BOB harder than necessary on shoulder) I love this guy. (Both laugh between gritted teeth, freezing) What? (Beat) I m sure he s sorry. BOB (turning on Frank): Sorry!? (Smiling at kids) Frank s on to something, kids. Ol Dad s gotta be able to walk right up to Frank and ask him to forg-forgi FRANK (covering for BOB): I hope you kids are hearing what Bob is trying to say. (Grits his teeth) It s like Pastor Harris always says, we ve gotta be able to just forget the past and forgive...
BOB: Well put, Frank. (Awkward moment of both adults staring at kids, then) BOTH: Will you forgive me? (Laugh, both start again) Look, I m sorry (Both laugh) BOB (chuckling): Go ahead... FRANK: Naw, I asked you first. BOB: No you didn t. I had it out before you even thought of it. FRANK: Are you kidding? I forgave you even before you asked for it. BOB: No, you didn t! (Voices begin rising again and argument ensues) BOB: If anybody s going to be forgiven around here, it s gonna be me! FRANK: You bring it up one more time, and I ll forgive you with a knuckle sandwich! (Both bite their tongues as they smile out at their kids) FRANK: Wait a minute, how about we re both forgiven? (Extends hand) BOB: I can live with that. (They shake, then) But I did have more to be forgiven for FRANK (under his breath): Don t start with me. (Turns to kids) All right, kids. Let s take the field. We got a game to finish! (Beat, then) What? BOB: Who canceled the game? FRANK: He did! Why? BOB: The fans were too rowdy? FRANK: A bad influence? (Both men turn to look at each other, ignorantly) BOTH: Who s he talking about? (Both men look at their kids in shocked horror, then look at each other.) BOTH (stunned amazement): US? BOB (yelling at ump): Why, you little twit! They were playing a good game out there! Too bad you were missing it! FRANK (joining in): How d you like to wear that chest protector permanently! Why don t you take off that mask and face us like a man! BOTH (they gasp in shock, then): Pastor Harris! (Blackout)
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