R.G. Armstrong credited as playing...
Cap'n Dan
- Cap'n Dan: [Trying to convince Brady to fight Jefferson] Now, Frank, when you retired with that gold belt last summer nobody thought it would work out like this. We just thought, match the two best heavies, and whoever beats who is the top man. Right? Nobody thought the nigger would lick one first, and then go after the other all the way to Australia.
- Smith aka Smitty, Evening Mirror Reporter: I was down in Melbourne for the paper, Mr. Brady, and let me tell you, no paper here could print how bad it really was. He'd say, "Wanna hit me now, fella?" Then he'd *let* him, grinning all the time. Cuffing him, jabbing, making smart-ass remarks to the crowd.
- Reporter: You're the white hope, Mr. Brady.
- Frank Brady, Boxer: I'm the what?
- Smith aka Smitty, Evening Mirror Reporter: The white hope. Every paper in the country is calling you that.
- Fred: Frank, he lands in San Francisco tomorrow. Come on!
- Cap'n Dan: How would you like it if he claims the belt's his because you won't fight him? How would you like it if the whole damn country says, "Brady let us down. He let a loudmouth nigger be champion of the world." Now, Frank, you go take a good, long look at that belt, and come on out here with it. I know you trust me, and I say you can beat him. And, Franklin, the good Lord hates a quitter.
- Goldie: [after they convince Brady to fight Jefferson] Good. So it's fixed, Cap'n Dan.
- Cap'n Dan: The man's in a hurry, Fred.
- Pop Weaver: What about terms?
- Goldie: What? We're no babies here. You know my Jackie would fight your boy for a *nickel*.
- Pop Weaver: 80-20, Goldie.
- Goldie: What? A world's championship?
- Fred: 80-20, that's it.
- Goldie: God bless America.
- Pop Weaver: And Cap'n Dan to be the referee.
- Goldie: You're kidding me.
- Cap'n Dan: Who'd you have in mind, friend? Booker T. Washington?
- Goldie: All right, all right. What else? He don't have to fight with his feet tied together?
- Fred: So, what do you say? If that's no white hope, I'm Queen Pocahontas.
- Pop Weaver: He's the right stuff, Dan. Maybe a little raw yet.
- Fred: *Fresh*. Fresh is what he is. Big, clean, strong. A real farm boy. They're waiting on their knees for someone like him.
- Pop Weaver: I'm ready to promote it, Dan. What do you think?
- Cap'n Dan: I think he's a full-grown polar bear, myself. He's the best of the bunch, I won't argue that. But say we send him over, bang! It's 10-to-1 the black boy does it again. Then where are we?
- Pop Weaver: We won't ever have it on a plate, you know.
- Cap'n Dan: Pop, Fred, let me tell you a secret. The next white hope is the one who gets that belt *back*! Not means to, or almost does or gets half-killed in trying. He takes it! He finishes right on his feet, with a big, horizontal nigger down there for *good*!
- Pop Weaver: Makes you feel kind of old, doesn't it? Seeing Brady refereeing.
- Cap'n Dan: Ah, who the hell cares? He's the man who lost that belt, Pop, and this whole rotten world's gonna watch him at the finish now, lifting it right up high and passing it on, like the Kid'll pass it on, and the next one'll pass it on. *This* time, we'll keep it in the family.