Ronnie: Wait, David's your sub? [cackling] I thought you told me that your team was stacked!

Roland: Johnny, I don't think it's really ethical for you to be doing spring training with the enemy.
Johnny: He's not the enemy, Roland. He's my son.
Roland: [scoffs] There are no sons in baseball!
Johnny: What?
Patrick: I'd argue most baseball players are somebody's son.
Ronnie: So what does that make me?!
Patrick: Oh! No but, just 'cause he... He said there's...
Ronnie: Yeah, you know what, good luck. 'Cause you all are gonna need it. Yeah, I'm looking at you.
David: [to Patrick] Wow, she is really not a fan.

Jocelyn: Ah, Moira. Group two is gonna take a fiver. I have not had this much exercise since I birthed Roland Jr.
Moira: Look at you, Jocelyn! Pushing your authority as assistant director to its limit.

Patrick: All right now, two away! All right, players to first and second! Outfield in a little bit, two away now, let's go!
David: Okay, I don't know who this is, but can we put him back in the box?

Johnny: David, keep your glove up! Protect your face!
Roland: Hey, Johnny! No coaching.
Johnny: Always be ready! Ugh!
Roland: Johnny, why don't you just put on a little apron, and serve them the win on a silver platter?!
Johnny: I'm just helping out my son, Roland. The kid has no idea what he's doing!
David: I can hear you!

Patrick: It's okay, David, I got it.
David: Hey, you know what?! It's not okay. I'm doing you the favour, you told me I was just a body in a field, not a body that had to catch things, flying very fast in the air! So I'm out!
Patrick: Well, actually, David, uh, Ronnie's out, and the inning's over, and technically, you're walking in the right direction.
David: Well, that's good for you, then, please get my glove.

Bob: Knock, knock!
Moira: Team?
Twyla: Um, a firefighter with back pain?
Moira: No, try again.
Bob: Knock, knock!
Jocelyn: A vacuum salesman? I don't know.
Moira: Bob, try to communicate what's written on the paper.
Bob: Is-is there a bell I could ring? You know, I don't, I don't wanna be rude, but uh, they could be having dinner.

Stevie: Um, Mrs. Rose? I've been thinking...
Moira: Oh, that's your first mistake. Don't think, Stevie, just trust your instincts.
Stevie: Okay well, my instincts are telling me that I'm in over my head.
Moira: See, deciphering which instincts to trust that's the real skill. You're feeling overwhelmed. [Stevie laughs nervously] After some quiet reflection, it occurred to me that this morning's exercises might've been a bit advanced. Please remember, this is all new to me as well.

Ronnie: Hey, Patrick. I don't mean to put any pressure on you, but you do realize that it's the bottom of the ninth, two out, bases are loaded, and the game's on the line, right?
Patrick: Yeah, I realize that, thank you, Ronnie.
Ronnie: So, who's up?
Patrick: Oh, I think you know who's up.
Ronnie: [cackling]
David: The barbecue guy wasn't ready, but he gave me some chips.

Patrick: Okay, David, you're up, but I'm gonna talk to the ump and see if we can pinch hit for you.
David: Why? It's the only part of this stupid game that I'm actually good at.
Patrick: Well, you struck out three times, so...
David: I tipped it that one time, you even admitted that.
Patrick: No, that's true, and that was a-that was a great tip. It's just that we're trying to win here.