OB40mukEXQ6QZ1740xdjwF1LEQ4 Quote to Remember: THE GAME PLAN [2007]

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Thursday, August 15, 2013

THE GAME PLAN [2007]

He Had The Perfect Game Plan. 
There's Just One Little Problem... 


Never say no.
~Joe Kingman

Joe: Come on, get a life, Sanders.
Sanders, points at the party: Oh, you call this 'life'?
That ain't life, Joe.

Joe: You just can't come walking into stranger's homes like this.
There are a lot of weirdos out there in the world.
Didn't your mom ever teach you that?
Peyton: Yeah.
Joe: Well, where is she?
Peyton: On an airplane.
Joe: On an airplane? Who are you here with?
Peyton: My father.
Joe: You better go get him, because I'm sure he's looking for you.
Peyton: He's not looking for me.
Joe: How do you know?
 Peyton: Because he's looking at me.
Joe: What?
Peyton: Hi, we've never met before.
You were married to my mom, Sara. Sara Kelly?
My name is Peyton.
I'm your daughter.

Joe: What did you put in those cookies?
Peyton: Milk, flour, eggs and cinnamon...
Joe: Cinnamon! I'm allergic to cinnamon.
Peyton: Oh, I'm sorry.
Joe: All you got to say is, "I'm sorry"?
I sound like this, "I'm sorry"?
Cinnamon!
Peyton: I'm allergic to nuts.

Joe: The X's mean 'stay out of these areas of the house'.
The O's mean 'open access'.
For example, you want to go to the kitchen, straight buttonhook.
But now you go to the kitchen, big X.
Off limits. No access. Can't go there.
Because you made a mess in the kitchen.
Do you understand?
No trick plays, no flea-flickers. Got it?
Peyton: Got it. No flea-flickers.
Joe: This is your game plan.
Learn it, live it, love it.


Peyton: My mom says that Fanny's makes kid fat and gives them gas.
Stella: Well, your daddy's agent says Fanny's makes him fat... with cash.

I'm the janitor, Joe's the mop, and Peyton's the mess.
~Stella Peck

Peyton: Hi everybody, I'm Peyton, the one who'll be going to bed early from now on.
My dad didn't have much of a heads-up on this whole father thing
and he is still getting the hang of things.
But it's like everything else in his life, he never says 'no'.
I mean, he's teaching me that you can do anything if you've got motivation and determination.
And the place where that starts is right here, in the heart.
You're the world's greatest father.
[hug him]
Joe, whispering: That was really good.
Peyton: It's going to cost you.

Monique: I just knew you were one of those parents.
Joe: One of what parents?
Monique: The kind who thinks that his life is more important than anybody else's.
Joe: Look, lady, I don't know what kind of parent I am.
All I know is I have an entire team.
Scratch that, an entire city depending on me.
Monique: Yeah, you also have a daughter depending on you.
Not to only take care of her, but to care about her, okay?
Joe: Listen, I care about Peyton.
Monique: Then prove it!

Ballerinas can leap as high as you can, but when they go down, they go down in plie.
And they hold and hold.
And then they go en pointe for hours and hours.
So, if ballet were easy, they'd call it football.
~Monique Vasquez

Your daughter has all the makings to be a professional dancer.
She has passion, talent, discipline.
I guess she inherited more than just your charm.
~Monique Vasquez

Joe: All the talking, and the arguing, and the complaining.
And you know what? You're just like her!
You think you're right about everything, just like her!
Peyton, scrunching her nose: What else?
Joe: You scrunch your nose when you get angry, just like her!
Peyton: Keep it coming.
Joe: You're always working on me with those big brown eyes... well, I actually like that, it's really cute.
But it doesn't matter, because it's just like her!
Peyton: Is that all you got?
Joe: And then you get inside people's minds, and you drive them crazy, just like her!
Peyton: Well, at least I got a mind, because if I didn't, I'd be just like you!
Joe: Well, I'm lucky, because as far as I'm concerned, you are nothing like me!

I would do anything to keep that beautiful smile on your face.
~Joe Kingman

 
Peyton: I'm supposed to be studying at a special ballet program this month
but instead, I snuck away to come meet you.
Joe: You ran away?
YOU RAN AWAY?
Is your mom even in Africa?
Peyton: About that...
Joe: What have you done?
Monique: Okay, I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation and everybody...
Joe: The press is going to eat me alive.

Karen: Are you saying you want Peyton to live here with you?
Joe: Yes, that's exactly what I'm saying.
Karen: You haven't even been in her life.
Joe: That's not my fault.
I didn't even know she existed.
And we've come such a long way in a short time.
Karen: What, youu mean since  a month ago when you left her in a bar?
Joe: I'm not the same man that I was.
Karen: Or an hour ago when she almost died on your watch?
This is not about you.
This is about Peyton, what's best for her.
And she needs to be in a stable home with someone who's known her her whole life.
Joe: Peyton needs her father. She needs me. 
Karen: That's not your decision to make.
Sara appointed me her guardian. 
Joe: I missed 8 years of Peyton's life.
And I'm not going to miss any more.
I will fight for this.
Karen: Oh, that would be a great thing to put her through, don't you think?
Do you have any idea how to take care of a child?
Joe: I've been doing it for a month now!
Karen: And look where we're standing, Joe.

Joe: Tell me what I'm supposed to do.
Sanders: The only thing you can do is make sure that she knows you love her
and that nothing's gonna change that.
And then when she's ready, she'll find you again.
Joe: I owe you a big thank you.
Sanders: Oh yeah? For what?
Joe: Just for catching everything I've thrown at you all these years.
Sanders: That's what friends are for.

She's not a distraction. She's my daughter.
I'd want her here with me even if it meant I'd never play another football game again.
There's nothing that I love more than my daughter.
Nothing.
~Joe Kingman

I called an audible.
See, I thought you'd be better off without me.
But judging by the butt-whupping you got out there, I guess I was wrong.
~Peyton Kingman

 

Peyton: Daddy, you won the championship.
Joe: Oh, Peyton, I've won much more than that.



*****

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