Seabiscuit
2003
George Woolf: Wanta know what I think? Charles Howard: Of course. George Woolf: I think it's better to break a man's leg than his heart.
Charles Howard: You could be crippled for the rest of your life. Red Pollard: I was crippled for the rest of my life. I got better. He made me better. Hell, you made me better.
Red Pollard: That's as much my horse as he is yours.
Tom Smith: One more thing. George Woolf: What? Let him catch me on the backstretch? You know, you're not the only one who knows this horse.
(George has awoken Red after loosing a fight) Red Pollard: I lost? George Woolf: No, you clobbered him.
Red Pollard: I'm fine George. I don't need your help and I sure as shit don't need your charity. Leave me alone.
Charles Howard: Son, what are you so mad at?
George Woolf: You know, if you did more riding and less talking you might start winning some races. Red Pollard: I got two bucks says I beat you in this one. George Woolf: I'm not sure you do but I got five bucks says that you don't.
Riddle: (On Radio talking about a match race with Seabiscuit) It wouldn't be fair to us. It wouldn't be fair to them either. You wouldn't put Jack Dempsey in the ring with a middle-weight would you? Red Pollard: Middle-weight? I'll kill him. I'll knock his goddamn block off. He's chicken, that's what it is. I mean, middle-weight?
Reporter: Awful lotta hoopla for such a little horse. Red Pollard: Though he be but little, he is fierce. Reporter: What's that? Red Pollard: That's Shakespeare, boys, Shakespeare.
California Doctor: If he breaks it again, it's possible he could never walk again. Red Pollard: He just said it's possible. Well, hell, anything's possible. We've proved that already.
Red Pollard: This isn't just any race. This is the Santa Anita. I had that race. I was there. Charles Howard: I know.
Charles Howard: It isn't just the leg. He could fall off. He could get trampled. He could... Marcela Howard: He could die? (She picks a little ball game out of his pocket) You know I play with this all the time, too. No matter how hard I try, I can't get that damn ball to stay in the hole. Just let him ride. Just let him do it.
Sam: You sure that leg'll hold you? Red Pollard: He's a 1200 pound horse, Sam. I'm an afterthought. Sam: No, I meant your leg.
Tom Smith: You don't throw away a whole life just 'cause he's banged up a little.
Tom Smith: Every horse is good for something.
Tick Tock McGlaughlin: $100,000? Makes me wanna walk on all fours and put a saddle on my back.
Tick Tock McGlaughlin: One comeback I can take, but two? Who's next? Lazarus?
Tick Tock McGlaughlin: No more match races for this little horse because frankly they're all out of matches. Who's he gonna race? Pegasus? I pity these horses.
(Red is not eating his food at the dinner table) Charles Howard: Go ahead, eat. Red Pollard: I'm not that hungry. Charles Howard: Sure, you're not. Red Pollard: It's just a lot of food. Charles Howard: I'd rather have you strong than thin.
Marcela Howard: Well he is fast. Tom Smith: (looking down at the ground) Yeah... in every direction.
Charles Howard: The horse is too small, the jockey too big, the trainer too old, and I'm too dumb to know the difference.
(Upon entering Samuel Riddle's stables) Red Pollard: Jesus Christ. I want to be a horse. Tom Smith: You're almost big enough.
(Howard is selling a new Buick at his dealership, explaining the advantages of a car over a horse) Charles Howard: To tell you the truth, I wouldn't spend more than five dollars on the best horse in America.
(displaying Seabiscuit's jockey silks) Marcela Howard: You don't think the "H" is too big? Charles Howard: You seen the size of our jockey?
Red Pollard: Brick by brick my citizens. Brick by brick.
Red Pollard: (narrating) You know, everybody thinks we found this broken down horse and fixed him, but we didn't. He fixed us. Every one of us. And I guess in a way we kinda fixed each other too.
Red Pollard: You know, everybody thinks we found this broken-down horse and fixed him. But we didn't. He fixed us; every one of us. And I guess in a way, we kinda fixed each other too.
Narrator: The first time he saw Seabiscuit, the colt was walking through the fog at five in the morning. Smith would say later that the horse looked right through him. As if to say, "What the hell are you looking at? Who do you think you are?" He was a small horse, barely fifteen hands. He was hurting too. There was a limp in his walk, a wheezing when he breathed. Smith didn't pay attention to that. He was looking the horse in the eye.
(after losing a photo finish horse race) Red Pollard: It's not my fault. Not this time. Tom Smith: I told you, look out for Rosemont! Red Pollard: I thought I had it! Tom Smith: You stopped ridin' him! Red Pollard: I couldn't see him! Tom Smith: What the hell are you talking about? He was flyin' up your tail! Red Pollard: Yeah, well, I can't... Tom Smith: What? Red Pollard: ... SEE out there!
George Woolf: (during the Match race, on the final stretch to War Admiral's jockey) So long, Charlie.
Mrs Pollard: You should be riding it. You knew the poem. Mr Pollard: Yeah, but he just looks so perfect out there, doesn't he? Mrs Pollard: Yeah. Mr Pollard: That's the poetry, Agnes. That's the poetry