The Basketball Diaries

Crazy Lady [screaming out of her window]: Go fuck yourself, you son-of-a-bitch bastard! The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. Hallowed be thy name thy kingdom come they will be done...you FUCK...Oh, give us this day our daily bread as we forgive those who trespass against us. Oh Jesus, Jesus of Nazarene, Jesus of Nazarene...go to hell, go to hell, go to hell. HELL, HELL, HELL, HELL, HELL. Mary the whore, Mary the whore...

Mom: Hey Jim, you're not going to waste the whole day lying around are you?
Jim Carroll (Leonardo DiCaprio): Yeah Mom, I'm up. The loony alarm went off.
Mom: Well, close the blinds. Don't look at her and don't listen to her.
Jim: How can I not?

Crazy lady: Jesus the Nazarene, Mary the whore, Mary the hairdresser, Mary the hairdresser...
Jim: Hey, lady! SHUT UP!!!

Jim: When I was young, about eight or so, I tried making friends with God by inviting him to my house to watch the world series...he never showed. submitted by JDwhiskers

[Jim is taking a beating from the priest and the bell rings, ending class]
Jim: Too bad father, I was just starting to enjoy myself.
Priest: We can do it again tomorrow if you like, Mr. Carroll.

Pedro: You O.K., Jim?
Jim: Yeah.
Pedro: Does it hurt?
Mickey: What? Do you want to rub it for him, Pedro?
Neutron: Yo Jim, give it a rest, man. You're never gonna beat him.
Mickey: The guy's a pervert, did you hear him? "We can do it again tomorrow if you like, Mr. Carroll."
Jim: Let's cut out of here.

Pedro: All right, what about the four of us versus Wilt Chamberlin? He was the greatest of all time.
Mickey: All of us? What are you going to do Pedro? Tie his shoes together when he ain't lookin'?
Pedro: All right, how 'bout the three of us versus Wilt Chamberlin?
Mickey: No problem.
Jim: You're kiddin' right, Mickey?
Mickey: No. He can't cover all of us at the same time. You guys don't miss open jumpers and you know who'll be there for the rebounds.
Jim: Rebounds? That freak is like seven-feet tall. Come on.
Mickey: Jim I can rebound with anybody.
Jim: You're sniffing too much of that shit, is what you're doing. Chamberlin would destroy all of us...end of story.
Mickey: Yeah all right, all we gotta do is move the ball around there's no way we don't win. Will you tell this kid?
Neutron: Hey Mickey, I think you could beat him yourself. I don't think you need us.
Mickey: Perfect example right there. Confidence. I know I could beat him.

Pedro: Holy shit, look at this place.
Mickey: Wow! I tell you what, if our school was this nice I'd go more than once a week.
Neutron: Maybe you'll learn how to read, huh?

Swifty: We got a game today gentlemen. Who's ready to play some round ball? I said, "Who's ready to play some ball?" You give me that laid-back-Jack attitude out there today and you're gonna find yourself watching the game from the bench.

Swifty: No smoking and no pulling your peckers before a game.

[Swifty opens the stall that Mickey is in]
Mickey: Swifty, you mind? I'm takin' a dump! Get outta here.

Swifty: Hey, what are ya doing?
Jim: We're signing the ball for Bobby.
Swifty: Can I sign?
Jim: Yeah.
Swifty writes: "We're holding your spot for you kid, Swifty."

Jim: We were the hottest Catholic high school team in New York City, on our way to the championship. We felt like nothing could stop us.

Jim: You gotta have presence on the court. Presence like a cheetah rather than a chimp. You both got it but chimp, ya gotta jump his nuts around all day to get it. Shy cheetah just moves in total nonchalance, second to a sexy slow strut. Me...I play like a cheetah.

Jim: There's only two things Swifty forbids: using the word "motherfucker" and stealing from the other team...as long as they're white.

Swifty: I told you one burger each, didn't I?
Jim: Aw come on, Swift. You know it takes, what, at least eight of these to get filled up.
Neutron: Yeah. Come on Swifty, we're growing boys.
Mickey: Growing boys are hungry motherfuckers.

Jim: Why do you have to be such an asshole all of the time?
Mickey: Why's the little shoe crying anyway? His mother's a sneaker, his father's a loafer, somebody's gotta be the heel.

Jim: I've known Bobby since I was three. He's my best friend. He was the best player on our basketball team. Two years ago, he got Leukemia. He keeps fighting it off. I know Bobby's gonna beat it, he can beat anything.

Bobby [reading Jim's poem]:

"Little kids shoot marbles
where branches break the sun
into graceful shafts of light.
I just wanna be pure,
I just wanna be pure."

Jim: I love it this way: my feet against the tar which is soft from the spring heat. A slight breeze that runs across your entire body, especially your crotch. You feel an incredible power being naked under a dome of stars while a giant city is dressed, dodging cars all around you five flights down. I don't think of anything while I'm doing the actual tugging, least of all the heavy sex fantasies I have to resort to indoors. Just my own naked self and the stars breathing down and its beautiful. Time sure flies where you're young and jerkin' off.

Mom: Camp summer position, driver: taxi. Hey, that might be good. You could get your license this summer.
Jim: Oh yeah, yeah mom that sounds really great.
Mom: Hey! Get your own job and if you don't get it this summer your gonna come and work with me at the hotel.
Jim: Mom please, why are you so worried about this? Do I even ask you for money?
Mom: No, I'm not worried about the money, I want you to have responsibility. I don't want you running around the streets of New York.
Jim: I know.
Mom: Idle time is the devil's play thing, Jim.
Jim: The devil's play thing, huh?
Mom: Mmm huh.
Jim: That might be a cool title for my first book, thanks. That's good.

Jim: Sometimes I feel like something's chasing me, like there's some wacko on a roof somewhere who could snuff me out at any moment and I feel this horrible fear. Will I have time to finish the poems breaking loose in my head?

Reggie: Hey white boy! You ready for your beatin'?
Jim: Don't let your mouth get you into something your ass can't handle.

Jim: Every crowd has its little games to prove if you're a punk or not. My cousin in Jersey plays chickie, which is two cars heading towards each other at about 80 miles an hour-first driver to swerve out of the way, is of course, chicken. In Brooklyn, they make you press a lit cigarette into your arm and have it burn all the way down to the filter, without the slightest flinch. Us Manhattan boys? We jump off cliffs into the Harlem River which is literally shitty, because half a million toilets flush into it every day.

Mickey: You know who was awesome on this rock? Bobby. That kid would do back flips off this rock.
Jim: Hey Mickey.
Mickey: What?
Jim: Don't talk about Bobby like he's dead, HE'S NOT DEAD!

Jim [as the Circle Line comes by]: HEY, CIRCLE THIS!!!submitted by Bridget

Jim:

White ships disappear into wave machine this morning
your eyes got shot with secret chains
a pill armies eventually set free
like soft horses through toy deserts.

Jim:
 

I love this mansion
Though its too many windows
to open halfway each morning
and close halfway each night.

Jim: I looked at his body and it was death for the first time. His face was thin and wrinkled, almost ape-like. His hair just gray patches on his scalp. He looked 60 years old and he was sixteen. I couldn't believe how skinny he was, much skinnier than he was in the hospital. It was like having a skeleton of someone you knew put right in front of you. I felt dazed just like I came out of a four hour movie I didn't understand. I kept thinking about his face and death and what a cheat the whole thing was.

Jim: You're growing up. And rain sort of remains on the branches of a tree that will someday rule the Earth. And it's good that there is rain. It clears the month of your sorry rainbow expressions, and it clears the streets of the silent armies...so we can dance.

Jim: Did I ever tell you about the first time I did heroin? I went down to Pedro's basement. All sorts of characters were in the storage room shootin' gallery. I was just gonna sniff a bag, but a guy says, "if you're gonna sniff, you might as well pop it and if you're gonna pop it you might as well mainline." I was scared of needles, but I gave in. It was like a long heat wave through my body. Any ache or pain or sadness or guilty feeling was completely flushed out.

Jim: Look ma, I'm not in the mood for your dime store psychology, all right? Now could you just please leave me alone. I gotta a little sick, all right?
Mom: I'm not gonna live like this, Jim. We're not gonna live like this, I'm warning you. I'm telling you we can't do it.
Jim: Oh god Mom, you're always warning me aren't you? Blah blah blah, you're always in my fucking ear, blah blah blah. You don't know anything.
Mom: What are you talking about?
Jim: Go clean toilets or whatever the hell it is that you do and when you're done you can clean this one, all right?
Mom (she slaps him in the face): Don't talk like that. What's the matter with you?
Jim: Gee wiz Ma, you know we outta have these heart to heart talks more often, they're really good for us.

Jim: First it's a Saturday night thing and you feel cool like a gangster or a rock star. It's just somethin' to kill the boredom, ya know. They call it a chippie, a small habit. It feels so good you start doing it on Tuesdays, then Thursdays. Then its got you. Every wise ass punk on the block says it won't happen to them, but it does.

Jim [in the confessional]: Bless me father, for I have sinned. Its been about fo-four months since my last confession.
Priest: Yes, my son?
Jim: Well, I don't know where to start, father.
Priest: Have you taken the name of Jesus Christ in vain?
Jim: Yeah, yeah I have.
Priest: Have you disrespected your mother and father?
Jim: Uh huh.
Priest: Have you stolen or cheated your fellow man?
Jim: Yeah, but I'm not proud of it.
Priest: Have you had impure thoughts or engaged in impure deeds?
Jim: Oh father, you have no idea.
Priest: Is there something else you want to tell me, in your own words?
Jim: Well, ya know I've done all kinds of crazy shit...oh excuse me father. Fuck...I'm so-...Christ I have a dirty mouth. Look I'm, I'm sorry about that, just go on.
Priest: Ten Hail Marys' and five Our Fathers'.
Jim: What do you mean? That's it, that's my punishment? Ya know something? My friend Bobby, he was the best and he's dead. This sucks, you know that. This really sucks, it's not fair father.

Jim: Your nose is running, your stomach cramps, your legs feel like they've played six straight games on top of each other. And the voice is always there, in the back of your head, "just one more time, then we'll stop." And you wanna stop. You really do, but it's like a dream. You can't stop dreams. They move in crazy pieces, anyway they want to and suddenly they're capable of anything.

Jim : It was a dream, not a nightmare. A beautiful dream I could never imagined in a thousand nods. I saw this girl next to me, she wasn't beautiful until she smiled. And I felt that smile come at me in heat waves following. Soaking through my body and out my finger tips in shafts of color. And I knew somewhere in the world, somewhere, that there was love for me.

Jim: It's been hard, the writing, lately. Terrible numbness then suddenly it comes in beautiful fragments or terrible dreams like nods, so high.

Jim [Reggie throws Jim his Journal]: How come its all wet?
Reggie: 'Cuz you pissed on it.

Reggie: You're welcome.
Jim: What the hell am I thanking you for?
Reggie: Cuz you was frozen in the snow, like a god damn creamsicle.

Jim: Where is it?
Reggie: What?
Jim: You know what the fuck I'm talkin' about, Reggie, where is it?

Jim: I am alone. Not just me, we're alone...alone forever. And who's at the end of that forever tunnel I run through? Up fifth with wallpaper of skyscrapers. I'm thinkin' after all of those beautiful trips this is one of those bad ones.

[Jim knocks on his mother's door]
Mom: Who is it?
Jim: Ma, let me in. [knocks again] Ma, let me in. [knocks] Please ma. [she latches the chain and opens the door; Jim knocks] Ma? Hey, Ma? Are you in there, Ma? Ma? Is that you?
Mom: Yeah.
Jim: Ma? Ma? Ma, are you there?
Mom: Yeah.
Jim: Hi!...Hi, ma. Hi...hi. Listen, I need you to help me out, all right? I need you to give me
some money okay? I need you to give me like five doll-, like te-, like twenty dollars or something like that 'cause I'm in some trouble. Ma? Do you hear me, Ma?
Mom: Yeah I here you. I can't help you.
Jim: Okay listen, what you gotta do is give me some money, okay?
Mom: Jim, I can't do that...
Jim: Why not? Ma, you know...I'm not gonna do anything with it. I just need...I need to go out of town for a little while cuz I got into some trouble and I need some help with it, okay? So you gotta give me some money, ma. Can you hold my hand?
Mom: [choking up] Yeah...I can hold your hand.
Jim: [more urgent] Mom? Mom, can you give me some money please? Mom, can you give me some MONEY please? STOP FUCKING AROUND!
Mom: I can't.
Jim: Mom, GIVE ME SOME FUCKING MONEY PLEASE! MOM, WHAT ARE YOU DOING? I'M YOUR SON!
Mom: I don't have any.
Jim: MOM, DON'T FUCK AROUND LIKE THIS! Give me some money! Mom! [crying] Oh god! Oh fuck. Let me in, I need some money. I need some money real bad. Oh fuck.
Mom [whispering, as she calls 911]: Someone's breaking into my apartment, they have a knife.
Jim: Mom, you don't understand, Mom. You don't know what you're fucking doing to me. Mom, I'm in pain. How could you do this to your son? You bitch! You fucking bitch! Let me in Mom. I'll do anything, I'll be a good boy. I'll be a good boy, Mom, if you let me in.

Jim: I got six months in Reicher's Island for assault, robbery, resisting arrest, and possession of narcotics. I sweated out a horrible cure and stayed clean the whole stretch. Even though its been easier to get good junk in here than it is on the streets. Shit its been hard man. All I've been doing is reading these diaries and wondering how the hell I'm still alive and even if I care. Suffice to say, I'm finished with the asshole bandits of shower room rape. Suffice to say, that those swine guards won't draw blood from my ankles again. Suffice to say, that I've been just thinking about dumb stuff, like what a nice concept it is to have a godmother and a godfather. Wondering who my godparents might be. My mom won't visit me here, so I guess I'll just have to wait till I get home to ask.

Jim: Know this: there's different types of users of junk. You got your rich, dilettante square ass who dabbles now and then, but always has enough money to run off to the Riviera if he feels he's fuckin' around to the danger point. Street junkies hate these pricks. But they're always suckers and their money makes 'em tolerable. Then you got your upper-middle class Westchester preppies. Same as the others basically, but what they're good for is opening their mommy and daddy's eyes to the social virus, and puttin' pressure on the government to do somethin' about it. Then there's us street kids. Start fuckin' around very young...13 or so. Think we all got it under control...won't get strung out. This rarely works. I'm living proof. But in the end, you've just gotta see the junk as another 9-5 gig, the hours are just a bit more inclined to shadows. submitted by JDwhiskers

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[Jim doing drugs in the shower stall]
Swifty: What are you doing here? I thought you were taking a piss? Have you been waiting for me? Are you trying to tell me something? [holds out money]
Jim: What are you talking about, Swifty.
Swifty: What, you want more? [holds out more money] Here. Just let me do it. [grabs Jim]
[Jim pushes Swifty into the wall, giving Swifty a bloody nose]
Swifty: Obviously there was a misunderstanding. Take the money, but just don't tell anyone.
[Jim glares at Swifty]
Swifty : Fine tell anyone you want, no one will believe a drug head like you. You don't think we know what you've been doing.
Jim [grabs money]: Get the FUCK ,get the FUCK ,out of here!  submitted by Kim + Karen