[Interior of a New York hospital's intensive care unit. ALEX RODRIGUEZ and DEREK JETER are visiting a very sick 11-year-old patient named BILLY, whose parents stand nearby.]
A-ROD: I'll tell you what, Billy. If I personally hit a home run for you tonight to lead the boys to victory, will you do me a favor in return and get better?
BILLY: Golly, yes, Mr. Rodriguez!
A-ROD: [Extending his hand to shake.] Then it's a deal, partner. I hit a home run, and you get out of this hospital. I'll just get my agent to send your parents the proper forms to sign. Now, let me give you my autograph.
BILLY: Gee whiz, Mr.Rodriguez. Thanks!
[BILLY's father hands A-ROD a baseball bat.]
A-ROD: Sorry, no bats or balls. Only flat items.
[BILLY's father searches for a flat item A-ROD can sign and eventually hands the Yankees third baseman his parking garage ticket. A-ROD quickly scribbles his name on the ticket and exits. JETER walks over to the bed, picks up the bat and starts writing a thoughtful "get well soon" message in iambic pentameter on the barrel.]
BILLY: Mr. Jeter, could you please hit a home run for me?
JETER: Aren't you being a little greedy, Billy? Alex just said he'd hit one for you.
BILLY: That #$@%^& choker? Please. If I need someone to pop up for me in the clutch, I'll go to him. But when I want a home run, I go right to The Man.
[JETER nods and smiles. He gives BILLY a hug and turns to the boy's doctor. He writes down something on a slip of paper.]
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