A scruffy, handsome young man smiles, as if posing for the cover of Life magazine. Celebrity? Perhaps. A flashbulb POPS.

INT. BOOKING ROOM, JAILHOUSE, ERIE, PA

Stocky, mustached cop, SERGEANT KRAVITZ (30s), thumbs through paperwork, processing a prisoner. On his tidy desk, a small American flag (48 stars) and a radio airing the World Series.

Title: SEPTEMBER 1946

SERGEANT KRAVITZ:… ‘Klep.’ That one ‘p’ or two? Got it both ways here.

Across from him, slouched in a chair, the scruffy young man. He sports a baseball uniform with ‘Pontiacs’ on the front. His bloodshot eyes betray his drunkenness; a wry smile, his childlike demeanor. This is EDDIE KLEP (27).

EDDIE: Just call me Eddie. Or Lefty. Some a’ of the guys call me Lefty.

The sergeant shoots him a look, then glimpses the papers.

SERGEANT KRAVITZ: Quite a record you got here, Lefty.
EDDIE: 21 and 4, couldn’t touch me.
SERGEANT KRAVITZ (reading): Drunkenness. Disorderly Conduct. Adultery.
EDDIE: 2 and 0 for the Bucks. Can’t pin that last one- bases were loaded.
SERGEANT KRAVITZ: Seem a lil’ loaded yourself.

Eddie sits up, earnestly.

EDDIE: Hey, got a bottle stashed in here? Don’t worry, I won’t say nothin’.
SERGEANT KRAVITZ (ignoring him): This time it’s what… ‘burglary’ and ‘receiving stolen goods.’
EDDIE: Goods? C’mon, it was just beer.
SERGEANT KRAVITZ: 42 dollars and fifty cents worth.
EDDIE: What can I say, I was thirsty.
SERGEANT KRAVITZ: Think this is a joke? Huh? Fellas overseas, fightin’ and dyin,’ you in and outta here like a hotel?
EDDIE: Whaddya want, they said I was 4F. Uh, funny and frank and…

Losing his train of thought, he hears the game on the radio.

BROADCASTER V.O.: … The young southpaw has a honey of a future ahead of him…

Gazing at the radio, the grin’s yanked off his face.

SERGEANT KRAVITZ: Everything the same? Same address?
EDDIE: Yeah.
SERGEANT KRAVITZ: Still married?
EDDIE: Huh?
SERGEANT KRAVITZ: There a Mrs. Klep? And we’re gonna go with one ‘p,’ keep it simple.
EDDIE: What does she gotta do with it?! She don’t gotta know.
SERGEANT KRAVITZ: Think she’ll find out soon enough.

Eddie considers.

EDDIE: Yeah. Yeah. You’re right. Prob’ly be all over the papers.

Sinks back in his chair, defeated.

BROADCASTER V.O.: … Another strikeout for the hard throwing left hander…
EDDIE: Could you turn that off?
SERGEANT KRAVITZ: It’s the World Series.
EDDIE: I have rights, ya know.
SERGEANT KRAVITZ: What, don’t like baseball?

Eddie snickers.

SERGEANT KRAVITZ: Figure you did, that getup on.

Eddie springs up in his seat, his face flushed with a mixture of bewilderment and rage-

EDDIE: You don’t know who I am, do you?
SERGEANT KRAVITZ: Am I supposed to?
EDDIE (big): Yeah.

HOLD on his fiery eyes, a look we’ll get to know. Over this, chants of ‘ED-DEE!’ ‘ED-DEE!’