Vivian: Geoffrey, I'm surprised you decided to come. You're not a basketball fan.
Geoffrey: True, madam, but I have found that any game can be made interesting if you put a little money on it.
Philip: You bet on this game?
Geoffrey: $50 says Bel-Air wins it.
Hilary: Who'd take that bet?
Jazz: You rang, beautiful?
Vivian: Jazz, you bet against Will?
Jazz: Yeah. He screws up, I'm loaded.

Carlton: How was I in the basketball game last Friday?
Hilary: You were great. I mean, you didn't make any baskets or anything but you looked cute in your uniform. I think it's great how you don't get it too sweaty. I guess it's 'cause you don't run too fast. Smart move.
Carlton: Did Dad mention me during the game?
Hilary: Oh, yeah. He did turn around to the guy behind him once and say: "Shut up. That's my son you're talking about."
Carlton: Oh.
Hilary: It's Will, isn't it?
Carlton: No, no, no. It's not.
Hilary: Carlton, talk to me. Look, it's ridiculous to compare yourself to Will. You're captain of the debate team, a straight "A" student, you're leader of the glee club. So what if Will's good at basketball?
Carlton: Thanks, Hilary. That means a lot to me.
Hilary: And besides, if that basket were two feet lower you'd be just as good as he is.

Philip: Okay. Who knows, it might do him some good. Nothing like a little organized sport to straighten a guy out.
Geoffrey: Yes. It did wonders for Pete Rose.