I'm a star! Ever since my movie Cast Away opened, life has been bally high! Sure, other sports figures have crossed over to the movies, but did Johnny Weissmuller ever get an award from the Broadcast Film Critics Association for Best Inanimate Object? Now my phone's ringing off the hook.
The ATP people want me for their NEW BALLS PLEASE ad campaign. They're going to drop those no-name tennis players. Good idea. After all, who's bigger, me or Jan-Michael Gambill?
Offers, offers. Dustin Hoffman says I'm a natural for Sphere 2. Matt Damon says a remake of Rounders, with me as the star, can't miss. Meanwhile, Miramax is beginning production on A Midsummer Night's Dream with a hockey Puck. Damn rip-offs!
Playboy wants me to do a pictorial with Gabby Reece. (She's going to spike me over a net.) Can I do it? Can I bare my air hole for the world to see?
Disaster! Sporting Goods Illustrated has a report about my substance abuse problems back when I was a college ball. Foot pumps, needles—the whole story. Now no one will return my calls!
John Feinstein wants to ghostwrite my memoirs. He says it's the quickest way to rehab my image. Working title: Ball Five.
My agent says there's an opening for a coach, at Ball State. I should forget these Tinseltown phonies and just get back to my roots. After all, in sports, everyone, no matter how inflated his ego, gets a second chance.