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A young hot-shot stock car driver gets his chance to compete at the top level.
Harry Hogge: Cole, you're wandering all over the track! Cole Trickle: Yeah, well this son of a bitch just slammed into me. Harry Hogge: No, no, he didn't slam you, he didn't bump you, he didn't nudge you... he *rubbed* you. And rubbin, son, is racin'.
Harry Hogge: [after Cole gets spun out by Russ] Cole, you OK? Cole Trickle: [Giving Harry a dianogsis of the car before coming onto pit road] The good news is the accelerator's fixed. The bad news is the transmission's screwed. I'm coming in!
[During a pit stop] Harry Hogge: All right. While we're still under a caution, I want you to go back out on that track and hit the pace car. Cole Trickle: Hit the pace car? Harry Hogge: Hit the pace car. Cole Trickle: What for? Harry Hogge: Because you've hit every other goddamned thing out there, I want you to be perfect.
Harry Hogge: [Cole is cursing on the radio after a bad pit stop] Hold it while we're on the air. Cole Trickle: I come into the pits, I was in first place, now I am in third with two laps to go! Harry Hogge: Cole, you're in third place, that's a respectable position. Now when they slow down for turn four, I want you to pass them on the outside. Cole Trickle: Harry, you told me nobody passes on the outside in turn four! Harry Hogge: Well now, I'm telling you different. If you go to the outside, you can hold it. Tim Daland: He's gonna end up in the wall Harry! Harry Hogge: Cole, the pace car is ready to duck on off, I don't have much time to tell you this. Cole Trickle: Well, tell me how? Harry Hogge: Because we have a really good set of matched tires on it. Tim Daland: What? Cole Trickle: What? Harry Hogge: Those tires are matched perfect and staggered special. Tim Daland: You're gonna get him killed! Harry Hogge: The pace car is getting ready to duck on off. If you go to the outside, you CAN hold it. Cole Trickle: All right Harry, when it comes to the car, I'll take your word.
[talking to the chassis] Harry Hogge: I'm gonna give you an engine low to the ground... extra thick oil pan to cut the wind from underneath you. It'll give you thirty or forty more horsepower. I'm gonna give you a fuel line that'll hold an extra gallon of gas. I'm gonna shave half an inch off you and shape you like a bullet. I'll get you primed, painted and weighed, and you'll be ready to go out on that racetrack. Hear me? You're gonna be perfect.
Tim Daland: He's destroyed both my cars. He destroyed both my cars. He's fired. You're fired. You're all fired.
Cole Trickle: [after driving a stock car for the first time ever, and only a couple of laps] I'm droppin' the hammer! Harry Hogge: [furious] No you're not! [Cole does so anyway]
Cole Trickle: [Rowdy stops the car] Well, you got me here. Now what? Rowdy Burns: Well here's how I see this deal. Since you agree I ain't gonna let you drive this car to dinner and I agree you ain't gonna let me drive this car to dinner, there's only one way to settle this. Cole Trickle: What are you talkin' about? [Rowdy looks at a car rental lot] Cole Trickle: Absolutely.
Buck Brotherton: [noticing an undamaged spot on the car] Well how 'bout that, a side we don't have to fix. Harry Hogge: [kicks that door panel] I don't want you spoiled, Buck.
Tim Daland: If you're from California, you're not a Yankee. You're not really anything. Harry Hogge: You said it. [chuckles]
[Cole is being searched by a female trooper who notices he has an erection] Female Trooper: Looks like we found something. Male Trooper: What's that? Female Trooper: A concealed weapon.
Harry Hogge: I'm settin' you up for cool weather... but if that sun breaks, after you're out on the track, you're liable to get real loose real quick. Now I don't wanna worry you or nothin, but, Cole's not ready for that... he's changed, see, he's changed. You cannot get out of control and expect him to bring you right back. He's liable to hurt you, you're liable to hurt him, and... I couldn't handle that, so, ah, you've gotta take care of him... see... you gotta take care of him.
Harry Hogge: [speaking to Cole condescendingly about engines] Now Cole, when that little needle goes up into the red and reads *nine thousand RPM*, that's bad!
Harry Hogge: Drivers can't stand to be reminded of what can happen to 'em in a racecar. They, they don't go to hospitals, they don't go to funerals. You get a driver to a funeral before he's actually dead, you've made history, darlin'.
Big John: You're late. Cole Trickle: We, uh, had, car trouble. Big John: What kind of car trouble? Cole Trickle: Uhhhhh... Rowdy Burns: I believe it was the radiator. Wasn't it, Cole? [grins] Cole Trickle: Yes, Rowdy, I believe it was. [returns grin]
Harry Hogge: Tim, take a look at that hound. That's the best coon-dog I ever seen or heard about and I didn't to teach him a damn thing.
Cole Trickle: Whoa. Her ass is all over the place. Harry Hogge: When the rear end's loose, the car's fast. Loose is fast, and on the edge of out of control.
Cole Trickle: Now can you walk, or am I gonna have to carry you? Harry Hogge: Where to? Cole Trickle: Victory Lane. Harry Hogge: Walk? Hell... I'll race your ass.
Cole Trickle: [while in the emergency room after Cole's big wreck at Daytona] All right, tell me what's going on, tell me what's going on. I'm BLIND, goddamnit! Dr. Claire Lewicki: What's your name? Cole Trickle: Cole... Trickle Dr. Claire Lewicki: Cole, would you help us out and lie still please.
Harry Hogge: [during the last few laps of the Daytona 500] This is it! This is what it's all about!
Big John: If you two wanna turn yourselves into a greasy spot on a country road somewhere, go right ahead. I don't give a shit and I don't think anybody else does, regardless what they say to your face. But you two monkeys are not going to do it on my racetrack. Now y'all heard of a "Japanese Inspection?" Japanese Inpsection, you see, when the Japs get in a load of lettuce they're not sure they wanna let in the country, why they'll just let it sit there on the dock 'til they get good and ready to look at. But then of course, it's all gone rotten... ain't nothing left to inspect. You see, lettuce is a perishable item... like you two monkeys. You trade paint one more time, you so much as touch, I'm gonna Black Flag the two of you, and take apart your racecars for three-hundred laps. Then, if you pass inspection and you put your cars back together, I might let you back into the race. Now, just to show there's no hard feelings we're all gonna go out to dinner together. Cole Trickle: Well, I've got other plans. Rowdy Burns: Yeah, so do I! Big John: Well, you're gonna have to change them. And not only that you two are gonna drive to dinner together.
Dr. Claire Lewicki: Tell me what you love so much about racing. Cole Trickle: Speed. To be able to control it. To know that I can control something that's out of control.
Tim Daland: I had sponsors in from all over the coast and I'm hugging, and holding hands, and praying for a good showin'. And what do we do? We end up looking like a monkey fucking a football out there. Everybody out, please.
Dr. Claire Lewicki: Control is an illusion, you infantile egomaniac. Nobody knows what's gonna happen next: not on a freeway, not in an airplane, not inside our own bodies and certainly not on a racetrack with 40 other infantile egomaniacs.
Dr. Claire Lewicki: You and Rowdy have the same sickness, it's called denial and it's probably going to kill you both.
Rowdy Burns: [after arriving at the hospital after the accident at Daytona] Go screw yourself. Dr. Claire Lewicki: What was that Mr. Burns? Rowdy Burns: I wouldn't tell you to do that, doc.
Harry P. Gant: [Drivers are being interviewed] Daytona is a tough race track and I'm sure myself and everybody, we're gonna keep an eye on Cole to see if he's there, you know, all his reflexes and everything. Neil Bonnett: He's plenty capable to run that race car good and I don't think he has any kind of effects from the accident that would be a factor in the way he performs. Aldo Bennedetti: I'm glad he's well enough to come back and I hope I beat him at the same time. Rusty Wallace: You know a lot of guys don't like him. It's just a situation where a guy's got a lot of talent, he's wide open, he doesn't think about anything else, he just wants to win. I like that. Russ Wheeler: Since the crash he's been a danger to himself and to other drivers, but, uh, if he comes near me I'm gonna put him in the wall. Simple as that. I don't expect I'll see too much of him... except in my rear view mirror.
Waddell: Harry tells me your guy runs those Indy-type deals. Tim Daland: Yeah, sprints mainly. Two World of Outlaw championships, three all-star wins, seven straight feature wins, and he's been driving ASA. Waddell: [to Harry] Got yourself a real statistician there. He know anything about drivers? Harry Hogge: We'll see.
NASCAR Official: [after noticing Tim and his pit crew helping Cole's pit crew push Cole on to the race track] Hey! You can't do that, that's not your car. Tim Daland: It's my engine in that car, I gave them that engine and that's what my boys are pushing. [pats him on the back]
Harry Hogge: What kind of driver are you going to find after the season's started? Some old boy who's washed up, and wasn't worth a shit to begin with.
Tim Daland: We messed up big time on Sunday. I had sponsors in thew stands and I'm huggin' and holdin' hands and kissin'em in the ears and prayin' for a good showin'. And what do we do? We end up lookin' like a monkey fuckin' a football out there. Everybody out, PLEASE. [Everyone gets up] Tim Daland: [to Cole and Harry] ... Except you two. I've got a question. What is the one thing you absolutely need to do to win a race? Harry Hogge: That's pretty damn obvious... Tim Daland: You keep quiet. [to Cole] Tim Daland: You need to finish the race! Cole Trickle: Tim, I realize Harry's been around a long time. I'm not sayin' that his ways are antiquated but it'd help to have a car that handled properly and didn't blow engines. Harry Hogge: Well if he wouldn't get excited and over-rev the son-of-a-bitch the engine wouldn't blow. Now, Cole, when you shift the gear and that little needle on the tach goes into the red and reads 9000 RPMs, that's BAD. Cole Trickle: It's also my fault that the tires blow if you ask this old fart! Harry Hogge: Well, Hell yes it's your fault. There's 40 other vultures out there who manage to finish the race on THEIR tires. You see Darrell Waltrip usin' up HIS tires? Cole Trickle: There's nothin' I can't do with a race car. Harry Hogge: Well, that's the difference between you and me. There's only so much I CAN do. Cole Trickle: Well, that's obvious! Tim Daland: Harry, he doesn't need to appreciate your job to do his. Harry Hogge: He sure as hell does 'cause how can he expect to race if he don't know what a race car can and can't do? Cole Trickle: What is this shit, huh? You want me to work the pit and YOU drive. Fine, we'll try that. [Cole leaves the room] Harry Hogge: I can't talk to this son of a bitch... I can't talk to that son of a bitch... I just can't... I can't... I... I... Tim Daland: You think he can drive? Harry Hogge: Oh he can drive. He can drive beyond the limits of the tires, the engine, the car or anything else. If the sum' bitch listened to me we wouldn't hardly ever lose a race! Tim Daland: If they don't give us a sponsor in the next couple of races, my ass is fried. I'm liable to be out of the car business all together. And Harry, I know you're great, you know you're great, but if the guy in the car doesn't trust you we're never gonna win a damn race.
Cole Trickle: What'd you win this one for? [Points to a trophy] Cole Trickle: This one right here, what'd win this for? Rowdy Burns: Doesn't it say? Cole Trickle: Yeah, that's a Winston Cup, buddy. Hell, that's an easy one to forget. What's your name, or has that slipped your mind too? Rowdy Burns: Screw you, man.
Tim Daland: And Harry, I know you're great, you know you're great, but if the guy in the car doesn't trust you, we're never gonna win a damn race.
Rowdy Burns: You run good. Cole Trickle: Thank you. Rowdy Burns: Now go get your own car and we'll see how you do in a crowd.
Harry Hogge: [discussing Cole's fearfulness after his big crash by intentionally destroying his engine during a race] You done it deliberate... done it deliberate! Nine thousand, four hundred RPM... according to the little tell-tale button.
Tim Daland: [Talking to the team after a poor showing at Rockingham but asks Cole and Harry to stay] I had sponsors in the stands, we were hugging and holding hands, praying for good showing and what do we do? We end up looking like a monkey fucking a football out there. Everybody out, please, except you two.
Dr. Claire Lewicki: Boy, you're very quick. Cole Trickle: You oughta see me drive.
Harry Hogge: [after Cole was spun out on the last lap at North Wilkesboro; Harry was upset after the race] Russ Wheeler don't deserve to win Tim, and if NASCAR won't call it low-down, shit-ass racin', you better. Tim Daland: It's just racing Harry. Harry Hogge: oh, yeah Tim Daland: Cole Overreacted,yeah!
Cole Trickle: Just a little rubbing Harry and rubbings racing.
Tim Daland: You said you'd look at him. Harry Hogge: I've looked at him. Tim Daland: I paid twenty five hundred dollars to use this track today, Harry. Cole Trickle: Forget it, he needs a brand name like Exkon or Richard Petty. Harry Hogge: Well, I know a damn race driver when I see one.
Tim Daland: [Walks to tractor] See you're enjoying the good life, Harry? Harry Hogge: Yeah. Well I don't mind spreadin' a little fertilizer round now and then. There's worse things. Tim Daland: How's the truck runnin'? Harry Hogge: Runs good. Tim Daland: [pause] I... uh... I want you to build me a car. Harry Hogge: [stops tractor] Now, Tim, everyone knows some downtown car dealer can't afford a race team. And no driver worth a damn is gonna sign with you. Cause they wreck one car, you can't afford to build them another, and their out of the deal, you know. And no car's gonna win without a driver, not even mine. Tim Daland: [points to Harry] If you built the car, I'd get a damn driver. Harry Hogge: [starts driving tractor] What kinda driver you gonna find after the season's started? Some ole' boy that's washed up, and one worth a shit to begin with. Tim Daland: You can work with him. You can build a driver like you build a car, Harry. Harry Hogge: [points to dog] Tim, take a look at that hound. Now that's the best coon dog I ever seen or heard about, and I didn't teach him a damn thing. Tim Daland: Well I got somebody. Harry Hogge: Who? Tim Daland: Take a look at him. Harry Hogge: Anybody I gotta take a look at ain't somebody. Tim Daland: Then take a look at nobody. Harry Hogge: [stops tractor] Tim, I give up racin', you gotta know that. Tim Daland: Ah, you didn't give up racin', Harry. You quit to avoid investigation into Buddy's crash at Daytona. Harry Hogge: Hey, I didn't avoid any God-damn investigation. Tim Daland: [rolls eyes] Well, anyway, I... uh... I talked to NASCAR and if you come back in there won't be any investigation. Harry Hogge: How they hell you sell 'em on that deal? Tim Daland: I'm a helluva saleman.
Harry Hogge: What do you know about stock car racing? Cole Trickle: Well... watched it on television, of course. Harry Hogge: You've seen it on television? Cole Trickle: ESPN. The coverage is excellent, you'd be surprised at how much you can pick up. Harry Hogge: I'm sure I would.
Cole Trickle: Claire, I'm more afraid of bein' nothing than I am of being hurt.
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