It’s coming down to this scene:
Scott Boras sits in a waiting room as a receptionist eyes him suspiciously. He is wearing a blue suit and his hands are folded neatly on his old leather briefcase. A clock ticks.
He glances at the photos hanging on the wood-paneled walls: Yogi Berra, Mickey Mantle, Joe DiMaggio, Babe Ruth, Lou Gehrig, Elston Howard, Phil Rizzuto, Whitey Ford, Thurman Munson, Reggie Jackson, Don Mattingly, Ron Guidry, General Patton…”
Boras’s eyes circle the walls again. And then again. He tugs at his collar and focuses on a large door at the end of the room. The clock ticks. And ticks. He mops his brow.
He leans in as voices come from behind the door. It bursts open and out comes George, Hank and Hal Steinbrenner along with Brian Cashman and Alex Rodriguez. They are all laughing and smoking long cigars.
GEORGE: “They’re good aren’t they? These are the kind Castro smokes. I’ve got a guy that gets ‘em for me.”
ALEX: “Very nice, Boss.”
Boras clears his throat.
ALEX: “Oh, Scott, I’m glad you’re here. Can you look over this contract? We’re going to grab some lunch.”
GEORGE: “You like pancakes big guy? The IHOP down the street does a banana-walnut thing that melts in your mouth.”
ALEX: “I love pancakes.”