Narrator: It was amazing. It was our first kiss since that day last fall in Harper's Woods, the day Winnie's brother Brian died. I'd been waiting to kiss her again all year. And now that it had happened, I felt as confused as ever. There was only one thing I was sure of ... I was a man on fire.
Narrator: She wasn't helping her parents, she wasn't doing anything, she was just standing there. OK, enough was enough, the game was over, let's lay out the cards. And then, for the first time that night, I looked around. The music was playing. Couples were dancing, holding each other tight. But not everybody. And suddenly I began to understand. I wanted to tell Winnie I understood what was happening to her family. I wanted to say something that would give her comfort, something incredibly wise ...
Winnie: Will you write to me when I'm away?
Narrator: That summer, kids everywhere swam, water-skied, and sailed, while Winnie Cooper struggled to keep her head above water, in a family torn apart by anger, and grief.
Narrator: What do you say after a kiss?
Winnie: What's that smell?
Winnie: It smells like ... a saddle!
Kevin: Oh, I ... guess it's my after-shave lotion.
Kevin: Yeah. Well, I mean, I didn't actually shave, I just, sorta, put it on.
Coach Cutlip: Men! We've worked together, we've played together. I'd like to think we've learned together. It hasn't been easy ...
Paul: This is gonna be a long one.
Coach Cutlip: ... I've had to push ... I've had to yell. Sometimes I've had to double-knot my hard shoes and kick you square in the fanny! (chuckles) But it's been worth it. Thirty-eight weeks ago you arrived here a rag-tag bunch of softies. Now you're leaving a hard-boiled cadre of young athletes. That's something to be proud of. This summer, when you're ... (jerks his head sideways) ... out there, think back on the guy who made it all possible. Ed Cutlip. Human being, a man, an educator. Sure, maybe he didn't have a Master's degree. But he was fair ... (starts to get choked up)
Kevin: What's he doing?
Narrator/Adult: Oh my God. Was it possible? Cutlip was falling apart before our very eyes. It was horrible. Like watching a bug die on a window sill. Someone had to stop this.
(A loud, vomiting noise is heard. The class all backs away from a student at one end of the group)
Narrator/Adult: And someone did. Joey Putnam. It was his last act of seventh grade but it was his finest.
Coach Cutlip: Wynan. Get a mop. The rest of you sixty laps. That's six-oh, and no shirking. Let's go. Let's go!