By Daniel
Dana's office. Casey is telling her not to go off the deep end, because that's what she usually does. Dana denies she does that, but says Kyle's her brother so she can go off the deep end if she wants. She hands Casey some folder, and he opens it and looks inside and then makes his patented eyes-widening-and-rolling face, like what was the point of that folder? Then Casey says she has every right to be upset, and she sarcastically thanks him for granting her that permission. "You see how you're snapping at me?" he says. "Yes." "And I'm not your little brother and I didn't just get busted?" "Yes." He says that's what he means by going off the deep end. She says "okay" and calms down a little. Then Dana says she's getting ready for the show and that's what Casey should be doing. "That's what I mean by 'mind your own business,'" says Dana. Then she recaps the last episode about how her brother got busted for steroids, and how her own show broke and will continue to cover the story: "I think, under the circumstances, I'm keeping it pretty well together." Casey says he's concerned about the eruption that will occur when Kyle shows up tomorrow night, "to say nothing of the staff." "What about the staff?" says Dana, as they get set to go. Casey says they've noticed that she's a little edgy, and I've watched this show enough to know that "edgy" will be the word of the day repeated about 800 times before the first commercial break. "Tell the staff they're going to notice my boot in their ass if they don't give me some room and shut the hell up." Heh. As they pass Casey's office, Natalie comes out and grabs Casey while Dana continues to stride through the newsroom, picking fights with people. Although this technically isn't a scene change, I should start a new paragraph.
Natalie gives Casey some papers and says, "I'm your secret Santa," like nice gift, Natalie -- papers. Oh, wait, that's not what she meant. Casey says, "It's not much of a secret now, is it?" They're walking through the newsroom. Natalie says he has to tell her what he wants by tomorrow, and if it's less than $50 and she can get it within two blocks of the building, it's all his. $50? I wish Natalie were my secret Santa. Last year I got a tiny book of quirky Canadian sayings, although I admit it was kind of a cool read. But it could easily have been tied to a bottle of Tanqueray for much less than $50. ["All right, ALL RIGHT. I'm SORRY. I'll get you a liter of gin this year, okay? Ingrate." -- Sars] Casey makes some comment about Natalie's Christmas spirit, and then he does his widening-eyes thing again.
At the desk, Dan wants to know what Casey is doing Christmas Eve. He points out they have a show. Casey says he's thinking about going to midnight mass after the show, and the mention of midnight mass makes me laugh since it's really the only one I go to anymore with my family when I'm home for the holidays. And my little brother and sister and I are all in our early to mid twenties now and not the most reverent of children, I must admit, and when we all get together you'd think we were working on an HBO Comedy Showcase, what with my brother showing up late for mass after his shift at work and asking, "Sorry I'm late, did I miss the Wise Men? They kick ass," and my sister looking at all the extra altar servers and saying, "Check it out, they really beefed up security." And my parents actually have to sit between us like when we were kids, to shut us up, but they're both laughing too, although mom is doing that thing that moms do when she's trying to be stern, so she's giggling, but going, "Stop it! You children are terrible," and dad can't really scold us for disrespecting the sanctity of the occasion, since when I was a baby, dad would surreptitiously pinch me so I'd start crying and he could duck out of church under the pretense of trying to calm a crying baby. ["Ha! We all sing 'Hark The Hare-Lipped Angels Sing' and giggle amongst ourselves, and my dad has to pretend to disapprove even though 1) he's laughing and 2) he started it in the first place." -- Sars]
Anyway, Casey says, "Eight years of Hebrew school weren't enough for you?" "I hear they put on a good show," says Danny, so I guess word of the Daniel and Siblings Def Midnight Mass Comedy Jam is spreading nicely. Casey says, "The original cast, maybe, but that thing's been running for a little while now," which was a pretty good line and it made both me and the other Danny laugh. Then Casey sits down in his chair and, apropos of nothing, says, "Babe Ruth." Dan shakes his head and says, "We're not naming Babe Ruth Athlete of the Century." Danny concedes that Babe Ruth could hit far, but he had to, because he couldn't run. "Let me toss one out here," says Dan, "Babe Didrikson Zaharias," but Casey isn't impressed with her hurdle and javelin accomplishments. "She's not Athlete of the Century, Danny. So far she's second on the list of athletes named Babe." Another good line for Casey. ["Besides, didn't she mostly play golf? That's what she's doing on the US stamp with her on it. God, I'm interrupting a lot here." -- Sars] Dan then explicitly invites Casey to midnight mass, since Casey missed the implied invite just a minute ago, but Casey says no.
In the control room, Natalie is drilling Dana about her being edgy, and I have to say that if she wasn't edgy before, there's no way she could possibly hold up under Natalie's yammering. Natalie pretends to have spit in one of the coffee cups just so Dana can spray the swig she just took, and Natalie offers this as proof that Dana's edgy. Uh, not wanting to drink someone's spit, that's edgy? Dana should have sprayed her coffee all over Natalie. The show goes live. Commercials.
Natalie walks into Dan's office and says, "I was wondering if you had a chance to look at it." Dan, barely looking up, says "yes." "And?" says Natalie expectantly. "It's good," says Dan. "You don't know what I'm talking about, do you," says Natalie flatly. Dan admits it. Seems Natalie left Dan an audition tape that he was supposed to evaluate for her. Dan feigns remembering and says, "Yes, Natalie, it's very good," fooling on one, as Natalie forces him to admit he hasn't watched it yet. Natalie gets pissed. "When have I not been there for you?" she whines, while Dan apologizes profusely. Casey walks in and says, "What's going on?" "Dan's a loser," Natalie says. Casey seems not in the least surprised. As she leaves, Natalie asks Casey if he knows what he wants yet. "Yeah, I've been vacillating between --" and Natalie, perhaps bugged by Casey using a word like "vacillating," says, "Have it by sundown or you're getting socks," and walks out. "Sundown"? When did Natalie become an old-time sheriff?
"She's my secret Santa," says Casey. Dan, obviously not caring, says, "Yeah?" "It's like something out of a fairy tale dream," says Casey, which was pretty funny. Dan got Jeremy, and he seems really bummed about it. Casey got Isaac. Dan politely asks what he's planning to get Isaac, but when Casey says, "See, here's my problem," Dan cuts him off with, "Know before you wade hip-deep into this that I don't really care what your problem is." Nice! I was expecting one more eyes-widening thing from Casey, but he just kind of frowns and says he's going to talk to Isaac. Dan thanks him for stopping by.
Isaac has his back to the door and doesn't turn around when Casey barges in, not even when Casey rudely puts his feet up on Isaac's desk. The only people allowed to do that on my desk are me and anyone invited to do so by me. "I'm your secret Santa," says Casey, and Isaac repeats Casey's earlier line about how it's not much of a secret anymore. Casey says he's going to get Isaac a gift he likes this year. Isaac says he always likes what Casey gives him, but Casey doesn't believe it: "Then how come you never wear anything?" Isaac points out that Casey gave him a blender last year. And Casey has to start bragging about what a good blender it was, with its twelve speeds, although I admit that when I recently bought a blender I went with the eight-speed model over the seven-speed model because presumably my life would be miserable if I didn't have that extra speed between frappe and liquefy or whatever that eighth speed is, although I suspect on my model they count "off" as a speed. "I'm not wearing the damn blender, Casey," says Isaac, still trying to work. Casey doesn't think Isaac's using the blender. "If you were using it, you'd come in and say, 'Hey, we used the blender this weekend, we...barbecued.'" First of all, it has been a year and I can't for the life of me even remember what I gave my secret Santa person last year, so if my working relationship with this person were so shallow that a year later the secret Santa gift was all we could talk about, that would be pretty sad. Second of all -- what? "Barbecued"? Isaac says, essentially, "What? Barbecued?" But he admits that he doesn't blend that much. Casey asks him what he wants. And just like my parents who always say on birthdays, Christmas, and Mothers and Fathers Day, "Oh, I don't want anything," Isaac tells Casey whatever he gets him will be fine, but he seems to be a little annoyed with Casey haranguing him. Finally, Isaac comes up with "cheese grater," which surprises Casey, but Isaac says he loves to "grate cheese." Witness Casey having to write that down, like how much of a boob is Casey? Then we get a five-minute clip of Casey walking out of Isaac's office.
In the meeting room, everybody but Casey is trying to work, except they're trying to pick the Athlete of the Century. "Jim Thorpe," suggests Jeremy. "Maybe," says Dana. "It's gotta be!" says Jeremy. "It's on the list," says Dana. "He was the greatest athlete in the world," says Jeremy. "You know what King Gustav V of Sweden said to Jim Thorpe?" Gee, now I know what breathless anticipation feels like. "He said, 'Sir, you are the greatest athlete in the world.'" Between this and his rude hockey comment last episode, I think Jeremy is going to cause me some anger-management issues pretty soon. Natalie suggests Pele but Dan won't have it. Natalie's logic is that he was the greatest player at the most popular sport in the world. Dan says, "Do you know how many times you'd have to kill me before I'd name a soccer player Athlete of the Century?" "Let's find out," says Natalie, all cranky and unprofessionally thrusting her personal grudge with Dan into the meeting room. At least this doesn't make it on air, unlike the local TV station during the last provincial election. At the newspaper office, we had the TV tuned to the local station. One of the field reporters had just gotten married, but whenever the anchor threw to her, he used her maiden name out of force of habit. And it pissed her off. So whenever she signed off, she pointedly used her married name, but each time the anchor messed up, the angrier she got, so that by her last report she was practically spitting out her last name, even though the anchor sometimes caught himself and corrected himself. It was really bad. Personally, I'm not sure why a woman who is in the public eye and has established her own name would then change it anyway, especially in this day and age, but if she wanted to, that's her choice. At least, it should be her choice. Except she married one of the cameramen at the station who was also pissed off at the anchor. Why? Because, to paraphrase, he didn't drop all kinds of money on a ring so she could keep her maiden name. Aw. Who said romance isn't dead?
Anyway, as the meeting ends, Casey strolls in and asks what he missed. "Jim Thorpe and Pele," says Kim, in her only line this episode. Productive meetings these guys have. Casey asks if anyone knows what King Gustav V said about Jim Thorpe, as if Casey would know that. "Yeah, as a matter of fact, we do," says Elliot, without looking up. Casey raises his eyebrows and says "all right" and follows Dana out the door.
He starts telling her the captivating saga of getting Isaac a cheese grater, completely oblivious to the fact that maybe, just maybe, Dana has greater concerns on her mind than frigging cheese graters. But she feigns excited interest as they walk to the coffee machine, and then we get these close-ups of Dana fumbling with the coffee and smacking the machine. Casey, finally aware that something is wrong (it must be, if she's not listening to his story), says, "Dana." "Leave me alone," she says. "It's not like you don't see this in sports all the time," he says. Uh, Casey, it's her brother, you idiot. Dana points that out. Casey, in a surprise move, makes excuses for the professional athlete, saying he's a 240-pound linebacker going up against a 350-pound offensive athlete who's probably also "souped up," and that Kyle's just trying to keep himself in the game. They're entering the control room at this last bit, and Dana actually turns around and shoves Casey out into the hall. "Don't defend him and don't tell me how to be," she says. She talks about Kyle being part of a conspiracy to buy steroids, she talks about side-effects and long-term damage, the suspension and a likely $50,000 fine when he's making just over the league minimum. "And, if the local DA feels like running for something year, he could also go to jail. To say nothing of the fact that his name is now also synonymous with everything that's bad about sports." "And all I'm saying is that he's got enough people telling him that right now. The papers, talk radio, agents, lawyers, the league, his teammates, his sister's own television show, and maybe he doesn't need any more guests at that party. And maybe the best role you can play right now is as his sister, Dana." Dana considers this. I hope she's just gathering her strength to rip Casey a new one. "That's all I'm saying," says Casey. "That, and don't be so edgy." "I'm not edgy," says Dana, and she goes back into the control room. "I'm not edgy," she repeats, as she slams the control room door. It's not a particularly hard slam, but the glass in the large control room window shatters into a million pieces at Casey's feet in so far the coolest thing ever to happen on this show, and the closest to something blowing up I'm likely to see. Dana, surveying the damage, glass crunching under her feet, says calmly, "Well, that'll have to be fixed." Heh. Casey makes his "you don't have to be crazy to work here, but it helps" face and headshake, and walks down the hall. Commercials.
Natalie walks into Dan's office, and he says he's looked at the tape. "For real?" "Quiz me," he says. She quizzes him about stories and what she was wearing ("Red flannel Viatelli suit with pearl stud earrings," he says. Dan! You fashion victim!). "I liked it, I was really impressed," says Dan. Natalie is over the moon: "That really means a lot to me, Danny!" She gets him to say he'll talk to Dana about putting her in the pool for substitute anchors, and by now he's looking a little uncomfortable, but Natalie doesn't notice. She scurries off, but not before kissing Danny on the cheek and saying, "I love you, Danny! You're the best!" in a total shout-out to me. Casey, walking in, says, "Hang on, I thought I was the best." "Things change," says Natalie, and leaves.
Casey says to Dan, "Let me tell you about my cheese grater experience." Man, just how detached from reality is Casey anyway, thinking anyone would care about this? I mean, if any of my friends ever uttered the phrase, "Let me tell you about my cheese grater experience," I would probably start to cry at the patheticness of my friends. Thankfully, Dan isn't having it ("Anything that would summon energy for me to speak is going to be more important than your cheese grater experience," he says), and he tells Casey that while Natalie's tape is fine, it's not great, and he told her it was great. "You're such a nimrod," says Casey. Ay caramba, who says "nimrod" anymore? Casey asks him what he's going to do, and Dan says, "I don't know," and it was kind of lost in the shuffle as they get up and leave in this weird half-assed looks-like-they-forgot-to-end-the-scene scene ending.
In the meeting room, Athlete of the Century discussions are still going on. Jeremy, growing exponentially more annoying by the second, suggests Secretariat, which I won't even dignify here, even though his lengthy justification runs on for about five hours. After Secretariat gets dismissed, Jeremy suggests they broaden the scope. Instead of picking an Athlete of the Century, they should pick Athlete of the Millennium, like there's that word "millennium" again, and don't get me started, just read "Kafelnikov" for my thoughts on that subject. When Jeremy says "millennium," his voice even does this pseudo-echo-chamber kind of effect, kind of like when the announcer on television commercials gravely intones that a man is suffering from "dia-REEE-ahh." Dana says, "You're suggesting we go back to the court of Ferdinand and Isabella..." "Sure!" says Jeremy. As annoying as this is, it's admittedly pure Jeremy, who actually says, "Genghis Khan could bring it." On that note, the meeting is adjourned.
Dan flags down Jeremy to tell him about his dilemma with Natalie. Jeremy says he has to tell her. "If you don't tell her, I'm going to have to," says Jeremy. "Funny you should bring that up," says Dan. "In your dreams," says Jeremy. In a nice touch, workers walk by carrying a pane of replacement glass for the control-room window. "Bear in mind that I am your secret Santa," says Dan. Jeremy wants to know what Dan's getting him. "I was going to take you to midnight mass," says Dan. "Talk to her," says Jeremy and leaves.
Isaac's office. Casey walks in carrying a big box of cheese graters, all individually adorned with bows. Okay, does Casey do any work at all? It gets worse -- Casey says he bought twelve of the best cheese graters he could find. Sars, does Manhattan have some sort of cheese-grater district where Casey could find hundreds that he somehow whittled down to twelve? ["No. And if we did, I'd know about it." -- Sars] He's going to let Isaac pick his favourite and then distribute the rest to people in the office who need them. Fine man, that Casey. I once sat on the board of the local Cheese Graters For Co-Workers charity, but it was just too time-consuming. There's so much to do and I'm just one man. Isaac admits he doesn't know anything about cheese graters, surprising Casey. "You said you like to grate cheese," protests Casey. If Casey didn't find that statement just a little suspicious, it's his own fault. "Well, it's not something I hate," says Isaac. Casey says he just wanted to get something Isaac likes. "I love my cheese grater," says Isaac pleasantly. "Which one," says Casey. Isaac picks one off the top, then relays a quote from a famous monk: "'I don't always know what the right thing to do is, my lord, but I think the fact that I want to please you, pleases you.'" Casey pretends to miss the point and grumbles about how Isaac would have preferred a book of famous monk quotations, which was pretty funny. Isaac says Casey has given him a greater gift. "I look like an idiot," says Casey. "Added bonus!" says Isaac. Heh. Casey gathers up Cheese Graters #2-12 and says he's going to find something Isaac really likes, and leaves. Touching music plays as Isaac smiles and takes down some sort of glass award-looking thing on a shelf and replaces it with the cheese grater, ribbons and all. Aw.
Natalie is working as Dan strolls up. She says she's late for rundown, not realizing Dan's rundown of her is imminent. "Did you talk to Dana yet?" "Natalie, you got a lot of potential. You know your stuff, you can write, and you look good," he says as they walk. "So what's the problem?" she says. "You're a couple years away from being ready," he says, stopping her dead in her tracks. "A couple years?" "Yeah, if you're lucky." Dan apologizes for blowing her off before. "A couple of years?" she says again, a little more quietly and discouraged this time. "Why?" "'Cause that's how hard it is to make this look easy," says Dan. Then he talks about how he once thought being a field-goal kicker looked easy, but it wasn't and he gave up. Natalie thinks he's telling her she should give up. He hastily tells her that she should keep trying, because if he had kept trying, he might have become a field goal kicker. This is really sad, Dan. "Is that what you really wanted to do?" asks Natalie. "Nah. I wanted to do this," says Dan. He asks her what it is she really wants to do. "Just something more," she says. He tells her she's headed in the right direction. She nods and says, "Thanks, Danny." Then she smacks him upside the head. "That was for lying to me all day," she says. He protests and she smacks him again. "And that was for doing it during this holiday season of peace and joy." Then she smiles and kisses him on the chin. Aw!
At the meeting, Jeremy is expounding the virtues of a fighter named "Melan Comos," who fought in the year 49 A.D. and was 53 and 0, but he never threw a punch and was never hit; they think he talked his opponents into surrendering. Dana says he fought too long ago to be the Athlete of the Millennium, but Jeremy says he was man enough to span two millennia. Dana says, "I say we go with Muhammad Ali and be done with it," and everybody votes with her. Would it have killed them to even mention Wayne Gretzky? While hockey is admittedly not the world's most popular sport, I think we can all agree that it is easily the greatest sport ever invented, and Gretzky was the greatest player. Ah, forget it. Elliot gets off the phone and tells Dana that her brother is in her office. She says she'll be back in a minute and leaves.
Casey sidles over to Natalie and suggests that she could make a tape of his favourite songs, something he could play in the car. That would be "fun" for her, he says, asking people what songs he likes, et cetera. Natalie looks at him for a few moments and then reaches into the bag beside her and slaps down socks in front of him and says "here." Casey says, "Socks, excellent!" and half-heartedly shows them off to the room.
Cut to a pensive man in Dana's office; he looks vaguely like a football player. Behind him, Dana enters the room. She says "hey." Silence. He appears to compose himself for a second, then takes a step toward her and says, "Dana, I..." and she tells him to shut up. "I'm so mad at you I could cry. Mom and Dad are totally freaked." He starts to say he's sorry and she rips into him for all the hours and years of "the weight rooms, the practices, the two-a-days." He says, "Don't tell me how hard it is to play pro ball, Dana, I play pro ball." She wants to know who turned him onto the stuff. He says it's not important. Angrily, she says, "What the hell kind of judge are you of what's important?" Good point, and he has no answer. She starts really screeching: "I have stood and cheered for you since you were ten years old, from the second you picked up a football!" She's close to tears as she tells him how she was strutting around the office last week because he got two sacks. He sits down on the edge of her desk, and she screams about how her show has had to report this idiot story for four days straight, but she breaks off as she sees how ashamed he looks. "You look tired," she says softly. "I'm a little tired, yeah," he says, his voice a little shaky. She sits down to him. "You got a lot of people mad at you," she says, listing them as he confirms it. "Your teammates? The fans?" When she says "Mom and Dad?" he looks at her, pauses, and says "yeah" and she nods. I really liked that; it was a nice depiction of a bond shared only by siblings, made even more poignant by these two adults -- one a hulking pro football player -- still fearful of the wrath of their parents, forever children to their mom and dad. Dana says, "I'm not through being your big sister yet. And it seems to me that these are the moments big sisters get paid for, so...what do you say I be the one person in your life that isn't pissed at you right now?" Kyle doesn't say anything, just looks at his big sister, looking very much like the eight-year-old who's scared of the trouble he's in. She touches his cheek and tells him it's going to be okay, that he'll face the music and work hard in the off-season. "And you'll be back, only this time not quite so stupid." He smiles. "Meantime," she says, as they hug, "I'm your sister. And I'm here for whatever you need." This scene, for me, ranks right up there with Dan and Casey's reconciliation in "April is the Cruelest Month." Dana tells Kyle to come say hi to everyone. He doesn't want to; he says he can't face Casey and Dan. "They want to see you," she says. Yeah, we all know how hard hero-worshipping Casey would be on the guy.
Back at the desk, Dan is going on about midnight mass. "They sing, they dance, they pray, they tell stories," he says. Jeremy and Natalie break it to him that they don't dance. Dana brings Kyle up to the desk and heads into the control room. Casey asks him how he's holding up. Kyle says he feels like an idiot. "Welcome to my world," says Dan. Yeah, Dan. It's all about you. Casey wants to know if Kyle has a good lawyer. Casey recommends the guy who handled his ex-wife in the divorce, because Casey washes the guy's car every Sunday. How much would I love to see Lenny Briscoe bust in and crack Casey's head for stealing his shtick? "Dana's a good girl," says Kyle, and Casey agrees. Kyle heads into the control room.
The show is about to go live, and as he comes in, Kyle gets smiles and supportive touches from the TCs. He walks over and stands behind Dana, puts his hand on her shoulder and says "thanks." She beckons him closer and he leans in; she kisses him on the cheek and says "merry Christmas" and holds his hands as the show goes live. Dan intros and says, "Those stories, plus the Sonics are super and the Ducks are mighty." Yeah, it'll be at least two years before Natalie comes up with writing that brilliant. Then he rips off "Twas the Night Before Christmas," because this is the holiday edition of Sports Night. We're out.