Everybody: Hello. Do you know us? We're a Major League Baseball team.
Jake Taylor: But since we haven't won a pennant in over 30 years, nobody recognizes us - not even in our own home town.
Eddie Harris: That's why we carry the American Express card.
Rick Vaughn: No matter how far out of first we are, it's cool. You know, it keeps us from getting shut out at our favorite hotels and restaurant-type places.
Pedro Cerrano: So if you're looking for some Big-League clout, apply for that little green home-run hitter.
Roger Dorn: Look what it's done for US. People still DON'T recognize us but...
Lou Brown: We're contenders now.

The American Express Card. Don't steal home without it.

Willie Mays Hayes

Rick Vaughn: You put snot on the ball?
Eddie Harris: I haven't got an arm like you, kid. I have to put anything on it I can find. Someday you will too.

Rick Vaughn: What's that shit on your chest?
Eddie Harris: Crisco? Bardol? Vagisil. Any one of them will give you another two to three inches drop on your curve ball. Of course if the umps are watching me real close I'll rub a little jalapeño up my nose, get it running, and if I need to load the ball up I just... wipe my nose.

You're gonna die, clown.

Happy Gilmore

Jake Taylor: I play for the Indians.
Chaire Holloway: Here in Cleveland? I didn't know they still had a team!
Jake Taylor: Yup, we've got uniforms and everything, it's really great!

In case you haven't noticed, and judging by the attendance you haven't, the Indians have managed to win a few ball games, and are threatening to climb out of the cellar!

Harry Doyle

[Shooter's ball lands on Mr. Larson's foot]
Mr. Larson: That's two thus far, Shooter.
Shooter McGavin: Oh, you can count. Good for you.
Mr. Larson: And *you* can count, on *me* -- waiting for *you* in the parking lot.
Crowd: Ooooooh.

Wild Thing. You make my heart sing. You walk everything.

Indians Fan

Chubbs: Hey, I'll bet your neighbour the accountant, can't drive the ball 400 yards. I'll bet your neighbour the accountant doesn't have a shot to get on the Pro Tour!
Happy Gilmore: And how would I do that?
Chubbs: You win the Open tomorrow, and you're automatically on the Pro Tour. Then who knows, maybe you'll win the Tour Championship. Get that gold jacket that I never got.
Happy Gilmore: Gold jacket, Green jacket, who gives a shit.

Maude Lebowski: Do you like sex, Mr. Lebowski?
The Dude: 'Scuse me?
Maude Lebowski: Sex. The physical act of love. Coitus. Do you like it?
The Dude: I was talking about my rug.
Maude Lebowski: You're not interested in sex?
The Dude: You mean coitus?

Wild thing, you make my heart sing.

Lady

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