JOHN NORVILLE and RON SHELTON
December 1995 Draft
TINNY CHEATIN' HEART MUSIC, the dull GROAN of a TRACTOR,
CRICKETS CHIRPIN' love songs, sporadic ZAPS from BUG
LIGHTS, and an occasional random THWOCK as we --
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
We PAN DOWN TO:
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,
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.
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
... 'Cuz I got a riddle.
Tin Cup leads the regulars inside.
A3 INT. DRIVING RANGE - LATE DAY A3
Tin Cup holds court.
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.
For Chrissakes, boys! A little
self-confidence from the players'
gallery. We ain't talking long
How much we gotta lose?
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
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
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
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 --
It's a family riddle, Earl. Think
The regulars puzzle some more.
Give us a little hint.
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
The doctor is the son's mother.
Feminists pose the riddle to
reveal how deeply our sexual
(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.
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.
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.
I thought I had a Doctor Griswold
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.
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.
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
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
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.
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
She stands there with contraptions coming from every
I have dozens of golf videotapes,
too... And a golf watch.
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
Then it's 200 dollars of shit...
He tees a ball, hands Molly her driver and steps back.
Go ahead. Take a swing.
Molly takes a pitty-pat swing and whiffs, and mutters
under her breath with the ease of a longshoreman.
Well, you talk like a golfer --
Molly unloads a mighty second swing. The club head
bounces off the mat. The ball sits untouched.
'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
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.
'What is the golf swing?' -- by
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...
... held lightly, a conductor's
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?
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
What? What's unfinished?
I have a short follow through --
my swing can look unfinished.
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
It is about gaining control of
your life, and letting go at the
Molly stares back, exhausted and intrigued.
There is only one other acceptable
theory of how to hit a golf ball.
I'm afraid to ask. What's the
Grip it and rip it.
While I appreciate your poetic
sensibility, Mr. McAvoy --
Call me Roy, Molly...
Call me Dr. Griswold...
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.
Waggle it, Doc, don't forget to
(as she stares at
Waggle... the club head...
... it's a little relaxing
She waggles the club head, then takes the club back.
Let the Big Dog eat!
She stops, lets the club fall.
What Big Dog?
The driver, the number one wood --
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.
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.
Did the tuning fork ring in your
I wouldn't go that far.
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.
Perhaps I'm chocked full of inner
No, you're chocked full of
Same time next week?
She heads off to the parking lot. He stares.
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?
What kind of saddle?
CLOSE ON MOLLY
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
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.
A class act there, boys --
probably the first actual `lady
type' female ever seen on these
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.
Free money, boys, what does
Doreen know about the fine art of
All she knows is she likes the
three dog 'cause his name is
Pride of Odessa 'cause she's
Get ready for Oddessa-lation, boys.
How deep we in?
You gave her twenty to one --
It's only fifteen to one on the
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?
You said to shoot the wad.
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
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
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.
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!
I think I been dating too many
Them big-haired blondes are a lot
smarter 'n us...
... how we gonna pay her?
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
I'm sure she is...
They enter the strip joint.
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
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 --
Tin Cup! Hi, sweetie!
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.
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
Tin Cup and Romeo stand at her beckoning.
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.
(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.
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
Only on condition you don't sell
right away, and me'n Romeo keep
What in the world would I want
with your stupid driving range?
Equity, inventory, cash flow...
not to mention an enhanced stature
in the community, and prepaid
membership in the Salome Chamber
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
Let's see... the tractor kid gets
five bucks an hour. Romeo, he
gets ten cash --
What do you pay yourself?
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.
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.
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.
12 EXT. DRIVING RANGE - RIDGE - PARKED WINNEBAGO - MORNING 12
Tin Cup's domicile, parked near a slow-moving river. The
red Cadillac is parked out front next to Romeo's Mercury
(with horror, inside
You hocked your golf clubs?!
A13 INT. WINNEBAGO - DAY A13
Tin Cup sits on the couch, swigging Maalox.
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.
Well the hood ain't too lively at
A CAR HORN SOUNDS from outside.
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.
13 EXT. WINNEBAGO - DAY 13
Romeo and Simms under the awning. A spiffy new car
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
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.
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.
Then make more birdies.
I need you on my team.
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 --
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
... 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.
(to himself, blankly)
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
Get the hell outta here! Take
your goddamn color coordinated
corporate sponsored soul and get
Okay, okay, just thought I'd offer
you some work...
Simms heads to his car.
I'll take the job.
We'll take the job.
Simms nods in agreement, and exits. Tin Cup stands there
with Romeo, feeling humiliated.
POV SHOT - SIMMS
drives away down the road.
TIN CUP (O.S.)
That man stands for everything I
hate in life.
You mean like... success?
14 EXT. COTTONWOOD GOLF COURSE CHARITY EVENT - DAY 14
Banners and galleries and concession tents create the
atmosphere of a polite circus.
A15 EXT. COTTONWOOD GOLF COURSE CHARITY EVENT - 16TH GREEN A15
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/
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.
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
Five percent of your earnings does
numb the gag reflex.
Give me the seven iron. I'm
You can make that shot.
The smart play's to lay up.
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
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.
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.
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
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
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.
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.
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.
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.
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
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.
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.
23 INT. DRIVING RANGE BAR - CLOSE ON TELEVISION - NIGHT 23
Sports highlights. Introducing "Sports Machine" with
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:
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
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.
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.
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...
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
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
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
You're right about that, boss, but
sometimes... sometimes... par is
good enough to win.
Tin Cup tosses down another Maalox cocktail.
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.
CLOSE ON ROW OF DOLLAR BILLS
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?
It's a business proposition. I'm
offering you my winnings from all
them tournaments this summer.
In exchange for what?
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.
They ain't all strictly minor
league. One of 'em pays almost
She twirls off. He chases her, beer and entries in hand.
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
And what does that tell you?
The MUSIC comes to an END. The club is momentarily
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
I'm not punching in no time
clock like some working stiff!
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.
Am I early?
Mr. McAvoy, I can appreciate that
you have a fairly laid-back,
relaxed lifestyle -- but I have
hours to keep.
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
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
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.
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.
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
Tin Cup's hands move down to square her hips. He's
discreet and professional.
Your boyfriend's a golfer --
that's my bet -- and he's why
you're taking this game up.
Hell, I probably even know
Get your hands off her ass, Roy.
And, as Tin Cup's hands recoil in alarm...
DAVID SIMMS steps onto the range.
CLOSE ON TIN CUP
Crushed and bewildered.
CLOSE ON SIMMS
A killer smile. The man is absolutely at ease with his
own success and charm.
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.
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
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.
I gotta rise to a level worthy of
the women that think I'm a joke.
Well... you could go out and win
Romeo, that idea has promise.
I was joking.
We talking about the same
tournament? The U.S. Open? The
Biggest golf tournament in the
Not just the biggest golf
Tournament in the world; the most
What do you mean?
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 --
Who's intimidated? I just told
you I'm gonna win the damn thing!
You don't got the game.
I got every shot in the book.
I said you don't got the game.
The mental game. The head game.
You suggesting I err on the side
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.
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.
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.
Yeah, well... my sticks may be in
a pawn shop, but I got a rake and
a hoe at the range.
32 EXT. MESQUITE COUNTRY CLUB - DAY 32
Expensive cars in the parking lot -- A putting green in
CLOSE ON TRUCK OF MERCEDES
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
And I'll give ya two a side... I
got the title to my car as
I'm not interested in that piece
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.
33 EXT. MESQUITE COUNTRY CLUB - FIRST TEE - MORNING 33
Boone addresses the ball on the first tee.
No mullies, no gimmes, no bumping
the ball --
And he rips a drive down the fairway.
Tin Cup selects the baseball bat from his golf bag.
Romeo hands him a pink ball and Tin Cup shows it to
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.
Not unless I knock it by you.
And he tosses up the Pink Lady and fungoes it long and
straight down the fairway.
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.
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
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...
Louisville Slugger, please.
Boone's a little rattled by Tin Cup's insouciance.
You got Boone shakin' already --
Front left bunker's your best
angle to the pin.
(calling his shot)
Front left bunker -- plugged lie.
He tosses up the ball and fungoes a lazy fly ball.
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.
Tin Cup holds up a hand like a gallery marshal requesting
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 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.
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.
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.
That would make an issue of
something that ain't an issue.
Besides, I'm focused.
Romeo responds with a Spanish curse.
I mean, this is my quest!
Ahhh... your quest... chingaso...
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
Besides, how is getting into the
U.S. Open gonna change what she
thinks about you?
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.
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.
Okay, okay... maybe I got a semi.
40 INT. GOLDEN TASSEL - DOREEN'S DRESSING ROOM - NIGHT 40
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
... 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.
41 INT. DRIVING RANGE - NIGHT 41
Tin Cup hangs up the phone and turns to Romeo.
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.
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
Romeo... are you sweet on Doreen?
No more'n you are for that doctor
A couple of deep sighs. Two losers with fluttering
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.
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
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
How far off the back foot?
'Bout three balls...
Silence. Golf is so much easier than life.
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...
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
I need help. I need advice. I
I need a shrink.
You don't know no shrinks.
I know one.
Not the doctor lady?
You can't ask advice about the
woman you're trying to hose from
the woman you're trying to hose!
Hose?! Hose?! Get your mouth
outta the gutter! This is a
matter of the heart!
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.
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,
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.
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?
I need therapy.
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.
Okay, okay, let 'er rip...
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
He's an idiot.
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.
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
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
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
Well... I'm smitten with a woman.
That's good. Is she smitten with
Have you asked her out?
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.
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
Christ, I didn't know we were
gonna get into my personal life!
This is therapy!
Well, jeez, I know, but I didn't
think it was that kind of
What were you expecting? Ann
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
I should ask this woman out.
I should risk coming right over
the top and snap-hooking it out of
Risk hitting it a little thin
For Godsakes, Roy, that's enough!
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.
Dr. Griswold -- I think I'm in
love with you.
Molly is stunned.
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.
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
Roy, slow down --
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.
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.
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.
I'm gonna qualify for the U.S.
Open and kick your boyfriend's
Whatever you think of me, you
should know that your boyfriend
hates old people, children, and
He exits. She just sits there.
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 hits another shot, totally focused.
How'd it go with the doctor lady,
If she was a par three, I'd'a made
Stroke and distance, eh?
(nods, deep in
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
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.
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
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
44 EXT. DRIVING RANGE - NIGHT (LATER) 44
Everyone's gone home except Tin Cup, who keeps drilling
beautiful shots into the Texas night.
45 EXT. ADJACENT HIGHWAY - NIGHT 45
A car is parked unnoticed. A figure sits alone, watching
Tin Cup from a distance. Molly.
MOLLY'S POV - SOLITARY FIGURE OF TIN CUP
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.
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.
Debt collection? Process server?
Ex-flame? Jesus, I'm clean.
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
-- And big, beautiful green eyes
-- I'm a beautiful guy.
I came here to apologize.
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
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 --
A new gig?
Therapy. I took all the classes.
I'm licensed, y'know.
(reaching into her
Mind if I smoke?
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.
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 --
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.
But you said you were a lousy shrink?
Well, yeah... I'll improve.
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.
You'll be with David.
Silence. A deal. It's the best they can do.
47 EXT. COTTONWOOD - FIRST TEE - MORNING 47
Local qualifier. The First Tee of the Local Open
Qualifier. And the voice of the starter.
... the next group... Roy McAvoy,
Salome, Texas... who will be
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?
I'm feelin' like par's a bad
score, podnuh -- fifty-eight's
within the realm!
Jesus, the doctor lady's here --
POV SHOT - MOLLY
standing not far from the regulars.
Didn't I tell ya? She's gonna be
your guru partner. You handle my
swing mechanics and she handles my
Long as you keep your dick out of
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?
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
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 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.
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
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
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...
48 MONTAGE OF TIN CUP'S FRONT NINE 48
He hits a perfect wedge -- and says to himself, Romeo,
Molly, the gallery, the universe --
49 He nails a two iron straight as a string. 49
50 He rifles another drive into the stratosphere. 50
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...
53 EXT. COTTONWOOD LOCAL QUALIFIER - TENTH TEE - DAY 53
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?
The way I'm swinging today,
nothing bugs me -- except
Gimme the lumber.
But Romeo is handing him a two iron.
I think two iron's safer.
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
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
You don't need eagle to qualify!
You need to get used to playing
smart -- no mistakes wins the
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?
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.
Then let's ask the head doctor.
Dr. Griswold, should I hit the Big
Dog or the two?
Suddenly an OFFICIAL steps forward.
Soliciting shot selection advice
is a two-stroke penalty.
Trust your feelings, Roy.
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
... 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
I changed my mind. Gimme the
You can't clear the dogleg with a
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.
Guess I'm going with the safe
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.
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 --
Sometimes I catch that three a
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.
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
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
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.
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.
What's this? You're quitting?
First sign of adversity, you're
Anyone want to bet me I can't par
in with a seven iron?
Doc? Take the bet?
Roy -- just shut up and hit the
54 QUICK SERIES OF SHOTS 54
Tin Cup's magic with a seven iron. He drives with a
55 He chips with a seven iron. 55
56 He blasts out of sand with an open-bladed seven iron. 56
57 EXT. COTTONWOOD LOCAL QUALIFIER - EIGHTEENTH HOLE - DAY 57
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
And Tin Cup shrugs to the tiny gallery, with insouciance
and cockiness, and pronounces --
An easy game, this golf...
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.
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!
How'd I do, Doc?
You failed miserably.
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
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,
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.
'Regression, delusion, denial'?
You gotta use all this
I'm a psychologist.
Tin Cup turns to the regulars for support.
Have a bad day, Roy?
Everyone turns to see David Simms enter the conversation.
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.
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.
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
You ever shoot par with a seven
It never occurred to me to try.
C'mon, let's go. The car's over
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.
You a coward? You gonna lay up
the way you did at the Masters
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
Tin Cup takes her literally and rises, starting to
unbuckle his belt.
Awright, awright! Let's measure,
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.
The Regulars cheer -- this is what they live for. Simms
hands a roll of cash to Molly. Tin Cup hands her his car
Awright! What's the game?
One swing each. Who can hit the
longest seven iron --
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.
From right here, okay?
Fine with me.
You guys are really being
Molly, leave this one to me.
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...
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
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.
Take a minute to limber up, fine
with me --
Don't need to.
Simms is still in a sport jacket, slacks, no golf shoes.
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.
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.
CLOSE ON MOLLY
She shrugs and smiles.
61 EXT. COTTONWOOD CLUBHOUSE - DAY (MOMENTS LATER) 61
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...
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)
Tin Cup tosses some money onstage with a lackluster
wave, he's depressed -- or something.
I heard you qualified for the
Regionals -- why you so down?
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?!
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 --
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?
McAvoy? The Tin Cup McAvoy?
There's only one -- thank God...
Yeah. You looking for a game?
No, but I'd sure like to show you
Doreen can't keep his attention. Neither can Sammantha,
who writhes only a few feet away.
How long have you been seeing this
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.
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?
The grip and address are about 90
percent of the golf swing, so pay
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.
... 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.
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...
Nothing to worry about, boys --
But you ain't got Romeo?
Don't need him till the Open --
he'll be back.
But you don't got the doctor lady?
Oh no, I got her. Right here.
He holds up a tape cassette.
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?
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?
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...
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,
MONTAGE OF REGIONALS
Accompanied by MOLLY'S VOICE and the MUSIC of JONES,
CLOSE ON TIN CUP
He puts the Walkman headset over his ears on the first
tee. We hear what he hears, and --
... `Private victories precede
public victories. You cannot
harvest a crop before you plant
Kaboom! He launches a tee shot down the middle.
... `How you view the problem, is
66 TIN CUP chips into the cup. 66
67 TIN CUP drains putt after putt with confidence. 67
... `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
... `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...
...`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.
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 --
Shut up and hand me the Big Dog.
You got it.
Tin Cup takes the driver and uncoils a beauty.
The Force is with me, pods...
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.
75 EXT. LA PALOMA - 18TH GREEN - DAY 75
Tin Cup surveys the thirty-foot snake of a putt. Earl's
of absolutely no use.
We need this one big time, Earl,
Looks straight to me.
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
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.
... when the going gets tough,
the, the, the, whirrrrrrrrrrr,
Tin Cup shakes the Walkman and pounds his ears.
Earl, Earl -- the tape's jammed!
She's abandoning me!
Are you okay?
Yeah, yeah... I'm flying solo
I gotta make this putt.
Tin Cup stares endlessly at the long putt.
... just pick the line, feel the
speed -- bad timing, doc, Jesus...
He steps up to the putt, still talking to himself.
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,
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.
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
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.
78 EXT. DRIVING RANGE - DAY 78
Tin Cup arrives, fresh from the qualifier. Romeo is
Romes! You've come back!
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.
Okay, don't talk to me -- but
you're still my guy...
It's a little late to be pissed
off! We're in the Open! You and
Still nothing from Romeo.
Awright, be that way --
-- say... has Molly been around?
I knew you had the hots for her.
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...
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.
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?
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?
I love you, too, God damn it!
As much as Earl?
I don't know! Yes, yes, as much
as Earl --
More than Earl!
Am I special?
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.
They shake hands.
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
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.
Nobody heard from Molly, eh?
You got it bad, don't ya?
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.
Hmmm... little chili dipper
Be sure to do that in the Open.
Unfazed, Tin Cup steps up to hit again, but... once
Thwock! -- Another horrible-looking squib to the right.
Romeo stops washing balls and notices, watching Tin Cup.
Thwock, thwock! -- Something's terribly wrong.
CLOSE ON TIN CUP
Concern crosses his face.
It ain't no chili dipper.
Yeah, boss, you got the 'S' word.
What am I doing wrong?
Shanks are like a virus -- they
just show up. Nobody can figure
Thwock, thwock, thwock! -- Three more chili dippers. Our
man definitely has the shanks. And he's panicking.
Romes! Something's terribly
wrong. What's your guess?!
It's the woman.
I thought you said it was a virus?
A woman can have the same effect.
What do I do?
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.
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:
POV SHOT - PINK CORVETTE
pulls in -- Doreen gets out, carrying a big package.
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.
Quit whining and get over here.
We've got something for you.
Tin Cup drags his sorry ass to the group.
Unless it's a 'swing thought,' I'm
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
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 --
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 --
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.
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 --
I'm being sponsored by a sewage
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
Doreen and the regulars look at Tin Cup proudly.
I'm supposed to wear this shit?
This shit is us, man. You can't
win without us.
You're the pride of Salome!
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.
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 --
(to anyone who'll
Maybe it's my grip... maybe I'm
opening up too soon... too late...
coming over the top... no,
Oh, sweet Jesus, why have you
(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?
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.
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
Roy? Anybody home?
There's no answer so she tries the door, and walks in on:
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.
A moment of pathetic silence, then:
Molly starts laughing -- He is destroyed.
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...
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.
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?
I got the shanks.
Are you taking penicillin?
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?
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
I don't want therapy. I want you.
Roy... I gotta get some air --
Look at me --
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.
Tell me which ones are my moments
and I'll try to duplicate them.
This is a moment. You look great.
Utterly exposed, completely
vulnerable, the inner child trying
to get out.
My inner child needs spanking.
You always liked that part about
saddling up, the smell of leather
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.
83 EXT. ALONG RIVER BACK TO TOWN - DAY 83
Tin Cup and Molly in his convertible. He works on her
without pushing too hard.
I know a spot along the river's
great to watch the sunset?
'Not tonight' means maybe some
I didn't mean it like that.
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.
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.
Put your money on me, Doc, the
odds are fabulous and God knows
He drives away, and we stay:
CLOSE ON MOLLY
Watching Tin Cup careen away in his Caddy.
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 --
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.
Molly and I are circling each
other... I can feel it...
She the enemy, boss.
Well she wakin' up with the enemy
-- same thing.
Tell me something, Romes -- the
absolute truth -- you think I can
go 72 holes without falling apart.
Romeo keeps driving, pretends not to hear.
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...
86 EXT. DESERT - DAY 86
The WINNEBAGO RUMBLES out of the country heading east,
87 EXT. CENTRAL TEXAS PLAINS - DAY 87
The Winnebago heads out of the high plains.
89 EXT. PINE HILLS GOLF CLUB (NORTH CAROLINA) - DAY 89
The Winnebago passes through a "tunnel" of tall, old
pines into a cathedral environment of old money and
90 INT. WINNEBAGO - DAY 90
Romeo and Tin Cup stare out into the trees, the lushness
-- a couple of wide-eyed kids.
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."
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.
Who's that? Mr. Crenshaw? That you?
Mr. Price, Mr. Norman? No?
Tin Cup leans across Romeo to introduce himself.
Roy 'Tin Cup' McAvoy.
Representing the great American
The Guard backs off quickly, turns to his SECOND.
Do we have a... McCormack... on
McAvoy -- Roy McAvoy -- he's a
We got over 150 legends in this
Romeo starts cursing in Spanish. The Guard is unphased.
Call the police.
The police quickly appear to take over the situation.
Tin Cup leaps out of the Winnebago to argue his point.
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?
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.
Hiya, David... nice sweater.
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
(to Tin Cup)
They spelled your name wrong --
easy mistake with a total unknown.
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:
Which way to the practice range?
As Tin Cup tries to regain some dignity, and climbs back
into the Winnebago --
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 --
91 EXT. PRACTICE RANGE - DAY 91
Lots of the big names are there. Romeo is like a kid at
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.
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
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
I think it's a dead giveaway,
Romes... but if I still got the
shanks we're gonna be found out
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...
Good thought, Pods...
Tin Cup waggles, shakes, limbers, addresses...
And he swings.
THWOCK! A hideous shank squirrels across line, almost
hitting a group of U.S. Open officials. Heads turn.
(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.
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.
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
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...
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.
Perfect... now hit a seven iron
into that tree over there. You're
Tin Cup hits a perfect seven iron into the trees.
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
That's it. Your brain was getting
in the way.
That's rarely been a problem.
Well, I should recommend you go
work on your short game but I
think it's better if you go get
Yeah. You always play better when
Tin Cups stares at the swami, and --
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.
It's three in the morning, Romes,
what time I tee off?
Seven-o-five... first group off...
Keep drinking, keep dancing...
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
Romeo tosses a blanket over Tin Cup lying on the floor.
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
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.
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 --
No, I've learned my lesson. Gonna
play it safe, smart, conservative.
Fairways and greens. Hand me the
Thought of the day is -- `be
And Tin Cup launches a two iron down the first fairway.
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
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
I was hungover!
Maybe that was a coaching error on
95 INT. CLUBHOUSE BAR - CLOSE ON TELEVISION ABOVE BAR - 95
David Simms is interviewed.
(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...
The Anti-Christ shoots 67, you
Ol' Anti-Christ got a hot
... you see, this game is all
about integrity and tradition and
What? It's about cheating and
racism and bullshit!
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
Simms walks away, now off-camera. FANS call out --
David! David! Over here!
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.
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.
Who the fuck these people think
CAMERA PANS OVER TO the edge of the tent. Molly, trying
to get to David, has seen the whole thing.
CLOSE ON MOLLY
She speaks to herself.
Old people, children, and dogs...
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.
Helluva round, Dave!
Got lucky out there...
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...
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?
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
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 --
(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 --
-- 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.
And give me a vodka tonic with a
Molly, really, this isn't...
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?
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 --
POV - ABOUT 170 YARDS AWAY
A pelican sits on a piling in the river. Impossible.
BACK TO SCENE
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
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.
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
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.
Kind of a thin lie...
Beats all that deep rough you were
Fore in the grill! Fore on the
patio! You're the legend, boss...
Tin Cup suddenly backs off the swing and turns to Molly.
What is this all about?
Shut up and hit the ball.
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 --
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,
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,
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
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:
I kinda shanked it, eh?
No, no, no... you were great...
Tempo is everything...
Mighta rushed it on the downswing...
Come over the top a little...
Yeah... well, as Walter Hagen once
said -- 'Sex and golf are the only
two things you can be bad at and
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.
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
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.
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.
... this putt to go ten under for
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.
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.
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
Silence, everyone watching the TV, everyone starting to
contort in body-English, then:
A joyous roar -- Tin Cup's putt went down. Earl twirls
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!
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
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.
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 drops the three wood on his bag, even as:
Carry, honey! Please! Carry!
The ball plunks in the water inches short of dry land.
The GALLERY GROANS.
BACK UP FAIRWAY
Tin Cup smiles at Molly with chagrin but not defeat. He
turns to Romeo.
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...
112 INT. PRESS TENT - EVENING 112
Tin Cup is on the dais, fielding questions from
How do you go from shooting an
eighty-three one day to a record-
breaking sixty-two the next?
Well, it wasn't from clean
Laughter from the reporters. Reporter #1 follows up.
If you had to do it again, would
you still go for the green on
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
113 INT. WINNEBAGO - NIGHT 113
Tin Cup, Molly, Romeo all asleep -- In the same bed.
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.
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.
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.
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.
This is for Venturi, up there in
the booth, thinking I should lay
(addressing his ball)
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.`
BACK TO TIN CUP
Staring amazed, almost betrayed, that his ball didn't
carry the water.
That's a long fucking ways.
(holds out his hand)
Gimme another ball.
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.
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.
120 INT. PRESS TENT - AFTERNOON 120
Tin Cup snarls at the impudent question of Reporter #3.
I saved par, didn't I?
I'm just trying to understand your
thinking. You were in the same
spot on eighteen yesterday without
a headwind and you --
You don't think I can knock it on
It seemed like a low-percentage
So am I! Look at me. I'm playing
(points at his
... 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? --
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.
Nothing to celebrate yet. Plus
these are my people. I'm a waffle
house guy -- gotta stay in touch
Plus he needs his carbohydrates --
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.
God damn, we been driving for two
days to help you in the last round --
Saw the Winnebago outside -- we're
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.
Doreen, meet Dr. Griswold... er,
Molly... my shrink --
We're sleeping together now so I
can't be his therapist.
I knew it.
Nothing, dear. Good luck.
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.
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.
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.
CLOSE ON MOLLY
Her face close to Tin Cup's. Both awake.
You nervous about tomorrow?
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.
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
A124 EXT. WINNEBAGO - DAWN A124
Tin Cup slips out of the trailer -- Romeo follows.
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.
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-
I said put it all on Roy. Got
We can't let you --
Silence. Molly's in charge. She hands them a roll of
Put it all on Tin Cup.
Earl reluctantly takes the money.
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.
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.
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.
That's always been your problem,
Dave. You don't think about
winning; you just want to look
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
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.
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.
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
Do me a favor. Bet me a buck I
don't put it in the fairway.
I bet you a hundred.
(going to tee off)
Puts things back in perspective.
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:
127 LEADER BOARD 127
A scorer changes the number beside Tin Cup's name from -7
to -5. Simms is still -7.
128 EXT. THIRD TEE - DAY 128
Tin Cup arrives on the tee where Simms now has the honor.
Nice double, Roy.
Just keep making pars, asshole.
I'll take eighteen of 'em.
And I will own you.
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'?
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.
PERISCOPE'S POV - TIN CUP
lining up a putt. She pans over to Romeo helping him.
Tell me something, Molly... have
you ever had a Latin lover?
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
Our boy's in trouble... ya think
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 --
131 EXT. TV TOWER - DAY 131
Wright looks at the monitor where Tin Cup stands among
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
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.
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
135 EXT. LEADER BOARD 135
The scorer posts a -5 next to Tin Cup's name. Simms is
still at -7, and --
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.
139 EXT. TENTH GREEN - DAY 139
Molly and Doreen watch Tin Cup drain a putt.
So why'd you leave him?
You ever dated a guy who actually
believes in soul mates?
He thinks he's a tough guy, but
he's a hopeless romantic.
And as the gallery falls silent, she turns to watch Tin
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.
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
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
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
That's right, Peter. You'n me.
That's all there is.
And he selects a club, and...
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!
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.
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...
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
150 BACK TO TEE 150
Tin Cup whispers to Romeo as Simms tees up.
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.
So birdie wins it.
He looks at Simms, ten yards across the fairway from him.
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.
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.
You know something, Romeo? Eagle
puts me ten under. No one's ever
finished an Open ten under, not
You don't need an eagle. Birdie
wins, par ties.
Hit the lay up. Hole a wedge for
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.
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.
BACK TO TIN CUP
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.
One swing, Roy. One good swing.
He swings -- the ball explodes off his club. Tin Cup
holds the pose...
Suddenly a gust of wind blows, out of nowhere, and Tin
Cup's cap blows off, provoking immediate concern.
... 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
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.
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,
I can make this shot.
Tin Cup throws another ball on the ground.
I'm playing it from here.
Take your drop and make your par!
Tin Cup addresses the ball.
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.
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.
Oh, my. This is tragic.
159 BACK TO TIN CUP 159
Holding his hand out to Romeo, as the gallery murmurs
Gimme another ball.
BACK TO DOREEN AND MOLLY
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
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
It was a miracle while it
Tin Cup swings a third time.
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.
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.
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.
CLOSE ON 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.
BACK TO TIN CUP
This is still all business to him. He sets his jaw,
addresses the shot, and:
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
167 BACK IN TELEVISION TOWER 167
Venturi and Nantz slump, drained, over their monitors.
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
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.
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.
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 --
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...
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
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
Yes. A magnificent fool...
A170 EXT. DRIVING RANGE (SALOME) - NIGHT A170
Mosquitoes, pools of light, the TRACTOR CHUGS around
picking up balls.
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.
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
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 --
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...
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
There's a lotta head cases out
there, you could make a bundle...
And sleep in the Winnebago at
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
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
C'mon, Molly, when did you ever take
a crazy risk?
I fell for you...
WIDE SHOT - LANDSCAPE
A desolate driving range outside of Salome, Texas. Bugs,
trucks passing in the night, and a tiny RADIO SENDING
GEORGE JONES across the plains.