At the NFL Draft, general manager Sonny Weaver has the opportunity to rebuild his team when he trades for the number one pick. He must decide what he's willing to sacrifice on a life-changing day for a few hundred young men with NFL dreams.

Ali: How is it that the ultimate prize in the most macho sport ever invented is a piece of jewelry?
Sonny Weaver Jr.: Come on, Tom. Say it with me, you pancake-eating motherfucker.
Sonny Weaver Jr.: [arguing with Penn] There's me doing my job, you doing yours. Your job is to coach the team I give you. They do it different in Dallas?
Coach Penn: Yeah, they do. They win.
[holds up his Super Bowl ring]
Coach Penn: A lot!
Sonny Weaver Jr.: [on the phone with his mother] You're on Twitter?
Barb Weaver: You're not?
Coach Penn: [enters with flaming papers in his hand] I'm sorry, Sonny, is this a bad time?
Sonny Weaver Jr.: I gotta go, Mom!
[hangs up]
Coach Penn: This is the draft analysis we've all been working on for the last two weeks...
[throws the burning pages onto the desk]
Rick the Intern: [background] Fire! Ali, fire! ALI, FIRE!
Ali: I'm coming!
[enters with a fire extinguisher and puts out the fire]
Ali: Can I get you gentlemen some coffee?
Sonny Weaver Jr.: Love some.
Coach Penn: Light and sweet, honey, thanks.
Ali: Yeah, I'm not getting you idiots anything.
[walks out]
Coach Penn: I like her.
Rick the Intern: I told him you were busy, and he told me to, uh, have intercourse with my mother... which, you know, she passed away, so... I - I didn't tell him that...
Sonny Weaver Jr.: [discussing a potential player] Looks like Tarzan, plays like Jane.
Coach Penn: Your opinion. He plays in my system.
Sonny Weaver Jr.: He doesn't block!
Coach Penn: I don't need him to block, I need him to run! Which he does, like a bat out of hell. Which takes the pressure off of my offense. Okay? I got fifty-two Tarzans in that locker room; I could use a Jane!
Sonny Weaver Jr.: I want my picks back, and I want David god damn Putney, just because I feel like it.
Sonny Weaver Jr.: Hi, Mom.
Barb Weaver: You sold a cow for magic beans.
Sonny Weaver Jr.: What?
Barb Weaver: You could have stole Ray Jennings at seven!
Sonny Weaver Jr.: How does the entire world know about this, Mom?
Barb Weaver: Because Vontae Mack just tweeted it.
Sonny Weaver Jr.: He tweeted it?
Barb Weaver: Yeah, here. "Agent just called. Browns trade for number one. Sorry Cleve, you get Bo no Vontae. Dumb move."
Sonny Weaver Jr.: You're on Twitter?
Barb Weaver: You're not?
Sonny Weaver Jr.: Did you trash my office?
Brian Drew: Trade me.
Sonny Weaver Jr.: Did you just trash my office?
Brian Drew: Yeah. I'm upset.
Sonny Weaver Jr.: If you're upset, call your agent, all right? Let him have this conversation. That's why he's there for.
Brian Drew: No, Sonny. You're gonna talk to me. Man-to-man. You owe me that.
Sonny Weaver Jr.: I owe you? I drafted you.
Brian Drew: Your dad drafted me.
Sonny Weaver Jr.: No, Drew, I drafted you. I may have been in San Francisco, but my dad wasn't even looking at you until I told him to.
Sonny Weaver Jr.: You were right about me, Tom. I'm a crazy man. So come on, take advantage of it. What are you waiting for?
Rick the Intern: Like, how did you come up with that?
Sonny Weaver Jr.: I was pissed!
Sonny Weaver Jr.: [to his scouts] I am trying real hard not to lose my shit on all three of you right now, but you're not making it very easy.
Ali: [advising Sonny] There's no such thing as a sure thing. At the end of the day, the only thing that matters is what you think.
Coach Penn: Let me see if I've got this right: in the span of one day, you have managed to burn through three years' worth of first round and second round draft picks. Is that correct?
Sonny Weaver Jr.: Yeah.
Coach Penn: I quit, Sonny.
Sonny Weaver Jr.: Yeah, and when your knee crapped out and no one wanted you, I still extended your contract, and I think I even gave you a raise, because I believed in you.
Brian Drew: Then why pick Callahan?
Sonny Weaver Jr.: You know why.
Brian Drew: Then trade me.
Sonny Weaver Jr.: I'm gonna do what's best for the team.
Anthony Molina: You son of a bitch!
Sonny Weaver Jr.: [giving him the nonverbal "one minute" gesture] Anthony, I need five minutes. Okay? Five minutes, then you can fire me.
Rick the Intern: Can I get you a soda?
Sonny Weaver Jr.: No, I don't want a soda! No Clevelander has EVER used the word "soda." Ever! Us Clevelanders use the word "pop."
[repeated line]
Sonny Weaver Jr.: You only get drafted once.
Brian Drew: I've been in this league for eight seasons. I've been to the playoffs. I know the system that Penn wants to run and I know I can make it work. I busted my ass this off-season. I set the bar high. I'm in great shape. I feel 10 years younger. I'm tellin' you, man, I swear to you, the best thing for this team, this season, is me.
Sonny Weaver Jr.: Are you finished?
Brian Drew: No.
Sonny Weaver Jr.: Then get finiished. And then get back to work. If I trade you, I trade you. If I don't, I don't. Do yourself a favor. Worry about Brian. Don't worry about Bo. And definitely absolutely goddamn importantly, do not bother me with your shit right now, Brian. I'm workin' here!
Sonny Weaver Jr.: Can we talk football? Just football for thirty seconds?
Ali: We can always talk football.
[first lines]
Chris Berman: Thirty-two teams, seven rounds, 224 young men who, today, are about to become players in the National Football League. A day where lives are changed. fates are decided, dynasties are born, and the clock is always ticking. Of course, I'm talking about... Draft Day.

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