Original air date: January 2, 2022
When Mr. Burns chooses brutally candid football prodigy Grayson Mathers to endorse his brandy and corrupts the already arrogant athlete further, Marge takes it upon herself to try and save the promising rookie by teaching him some humility and family values.
* * *
♪ ♪
(wind hissing)
(indistinct chatter)
Shut up! It’s starting!
The Springfield Atoms have earned the number-one pick in this year’s draft, after intentionally losing every game last season.
Nobody tanks like Springfield– City of Intentional Losers.
(chanting) Tank! Tank! Tank!
And with the first pick
(crowd booing)
of the draft, the Springfield Atoms select…
Grayson Mathers.
(cheering)
All right!
HOMER: Yeah! All right!
(whoops)
We have witnessed the most beautiful birth in the world– that of a football dynasty.
Let’s show Philadelphia what a real victory riot looks like!
(clamoring)
(grunts)
(clamoring continues)
What a needless tragedy.
You say our corporate revenue is down?
Well, the losses are all coming from one division– your liquor company.
Sales of Mr. Gentleman Brandy have reached zero and are only projected to go down.
Impossible.
Mr. Gentleman is sipped by every trustee of the Narragansett Whale Oil Concern.
Well, maybe the problem is the ad campaign.
It’s encouraging consuming as little of the liquor as possible.
Ah. That’ll hold me for quite a while.
So, I brought in a branding expert to reimagine Mr. Gentleman.
These days, which in the branding business is called “the present,” the only liquor brands people care about are endorsed by big celebrities.
People think, “If I buy this tequila, then I’m as fun as George Clooney.”
Or, “I need to be more smug and unbearable.
(gasps) Hey, Ryan Reynolds has a gin.”
So we find the perfect celebrity to represent my brandy.
But who?
What about Harrison Ford?
Too Hollywood.
Dolly Parton?
Too Dollywood.
With that, we end the list of every celebrity who does not already have an existing liquor company.
So what we need is a brand-new celebrity, one adored by the common man.
CROWD: (chanting): Grayson Mathers!
Grayson Mathers! Grayson Mathers!
(snaps fingers)
REPORTER: Grayson!
Grayson, some have dubbed you “The Savior of Springfield Football”.
Isn’t that a lot of pressure for a rookie?
I do me.
If you don’t like it, that’s on you.
Mm-hmm.
REPORTER 2: Grayson, some people are put off by your tell-it-like-it-is attitude.
What do you say to them?
I’m an open book, but the media and haters and people who have never played the game, I carry myself with a certain confidence, and I don’t apologize for your perception of statements I did not make, but stand by.
Truth bomb.
I sleep at night.
REPORTER 2: What did you just say?
I do me.
(reporters clamoring)
Man, that dude keeps it so real.
He’s all, “This is me.
I don’t apologize. What up, haters?”
He does him.
I wish I was half as myself as he is.
They adore this pigskin-tossing football thrower.
He’s brash, outspoken, willfully uninformed.
He has no filter.
In our sanitized, clickbait-ready, media-driven world, what people crave is authenticity.
If you don’t believe me, look at the metrics.
Now you believe me.
Why didn’t you mention any of this before?
I don’t know.
This bad boy must be the new face of my brandy company.
Smithers, hire him at once.
And get rid of this.
But my metrics!
(thud)
GRAYSON: I got no problem being me.
Opinions exist.
Think about it.
Do you seriously doubt I know what I’m like?
And when it comes to brandy, go ahead and sip.
Me?
I’ll chug.
I do me.
You do you…
my way.
Congratulations, my boy.
You are the face of America’s most marked-up trash liquor.
There’s one thing that’s unique about me–
I’ve always admired rich people.
And now I’m getting paid by one.
That’s on you.
Aw, come on, Burnsy.
Bring it in.
Yeah. I got you, bro.
♪ ♪
So this is what it feels like to be brought in.
Cheers!
To the money that comes from business.
To friendship hugs.
(sighs) Well, first game of the season tomorrow, so I’d better hit the Hay.
That’s the name of the club I’m going to.
Then I’m gonna hit the Sack.
That’s where the after-party is.
There he is, kids.
The QB who will one day take us to the Super Bowl, own several local car dealerships and host a middling Saturday Night Live.
MARGE: Oh, look at that baby face.
I hope there’s no tackling today.
BART: Babyface looks a little hungover, Mom.
LISA: Geez. He’s kind of got that “Dad asleep in his car outside Moe’s” look going.
The icy stare of a born winner?
Yes. That one.
And so begins a new era in Atoms football.
The golden child’s mighty arm shall spiral a grim warning to all who would oppose him.
Hut, hut! Hike!
(grunts)
(grunting, panting)
(groaning)
Oh, God.
(booing)
Get off the field!
Boo!
You suck!
Oh, my God.
The 22-year-old I bet all my happiness on is nothing but a bust!
Bust! Bust! Bust! Bust!
But you were just cheering for him.
You’ve been talking about how great he is every day for months.
But he’s sucking.
It’s the second-best thing he could do next to playing great.
(booing)
How dare they jeer that boy?
He’s like the arrogant, out-of-control son I never sent to boarding school and forgot about.
ANNOUNCER: And Grayson Mathers has just been benched.
And here comes the Haterade.
Aah!
(booing)
Boo an angel, why don’t you?
Thunder-stick him!
(grunting)
(booing)
There are far worse things to be buried under.
Launch the souvenir loaded nachos!
Ah. Nothing like a nice body-temperature bath.
I’ve never been booed before.
Not even when I trolled the Florida State fans by dancing on their coach.
Am I, like, a loser now?
If I am a loser, then maybe I shouldn’t be… doing me.
Pish posh.
Doing you is what you do best.
And I’ll prove it, by putting you in front of an adoring crowd.
Captain Underpants here!
Wimpy Kid!
I got Narnia!
Goosebumps here!
Our guest has achieved great things in life by hard work and being six-foot-four.
Please welcome Grayson Mathers.
(cheering)
Your principal brought me here to tell you that school is important.
But I got to keep it real.
This is the first time I’ve ever been in a school, and I own three identical Ferraris!
That’s wassup!
(cheering)
I have a question.
You suck!
You’re garbage outside the pocket!
Your average depth of target is a joke.
(chanting) Bust! Bust! Bust!
The children are destroying him with their hot takes!
Bust! Bust! Bust!
Shut up, you stupid kids!
I’m a man! A football man!
All I throw is dimes!
Here’s a dime for you!
A dime for you!
(kids exclaiming)
Nothin’ but dimes!
Boom! Dime!
Boom! Dime!
Oh!
(hissing)
The Madagascar hissing cockroaches are loose!
(kids screaming)
♪ ♪
(groans)
All I drink is brandy!
My urethra is on fire!
(groans)
I heard what you said about your urethra.
Are you feeling okay?
I’m fine. Beat it, media.
You listen here, young man.
Just because you’re embarrassed by your own behavior is no reason to lash out at me.
I’m the one person in town who feels sorry for you, and even I’ve about had it.
Now apologize.
I’m sorry.
Um… ma’am.
Good. Now, tell me what’s wrong.
I mean, it doesn’t make sense.
I can’t stop partying. I barely sleep.
I called Peyton Manning a chicken-fried Frankenstein on Twitter.
I-I’m doing me more than ever.
So why don’t I play good?
Oh, sweetie.
It sounds like you just need to slow down.
(sighs)
I actually have six identical Ferraris.
I want to own all the blue ones.
(crying)
I know what’s wrong with you.
Not enough Ferraris.
What this boy needs is a home-cooked meal and a good night’s sleep.
At my house.
A partnership betwixt a man and a woman to provide for the care of a young person.
You supply the nurturing home life, and I’ll be the emotionally-withholding yet somehow worshipped father figure.
It’s a deal.
You’re coming home with me.
I really want to, but I’m kind of supposed to get into it with some hockey players outside a strip club later.
I’ll call them and tell them you’re sick.
Yo. Two parents and some kids?
This is a straight-up family.
For real.
I guess we are.
So, Grayson, you just graduated from college, right?
What did you major in?
Oh, they never told me.
(sighs) That means communications.
You see, I grew up on the Florida-Texas border, where football is king.
One day, I saw this other baby crawling a post pattern, and I hit him with my pacifier.
Perfect spiral. 20 yards.
My folks did what any loving parents would do– they packed me off to football academy.
I’m real grateful.
If you keep a kid at home till he’s two, it can screw up his development.
Growing up in an all-football environment helped me avoid the distractions that come with being a kid– friends, laughing, that junk.
For college, Alabama Tech was an easy choice.
Coach is an amazing recruiter.
You really feel his passion.
Wait, so you never see your parents?
Oh, I see them all the time!
I see them at games, in documentaries about me, in the Campbell’s Soup commercial my mom did without my knowledge.
Oh, Grayson, growing up with nothing but football can’t have been healthy.
(chuckles) No, no, I’m good.
Gimme that back!
Starters eat before scrubs!
Everybody knows that!
(grunting)
(yells)
(panting)
You know, I’m beginning to see the appeal of football.
(chuckles) Hit him again!
Kids, behave!
In a family, we do not steal food.
But…
No buts.
Just because there aren’t coaches and minders watching your every move doesn’t mean you can act selfishly.
In a family, you don’t do you.
You do… others?
And don’t you forget it.
Now, boys, clear the table.
Bust. Bust. Bust.
You sure the rookie doesn’t mind sharing?
Maggie loves company.
Um, Mrs. Marge, do-do you think it’d be all right if I stayed here for a while?
I’ve never been around a real family before.
Of course you can.
You sure? I’m a lot of work.
I need 9,000 calories a day or I’ll die.
So does my husband, silly.
♪ ♪
Wow!
I’ve never seen such a tiny megachurch.
It’s a normal-sized regular church, Grayson.
Hey, here’s a little fuel for your private jet, Reverend.
When did the faces on the paper money get so big?
♪Happy birthday to you! ♪
(chuckles) Wow.
My first birthday party.
I made you a card.
HOMER: We’re all playing catch.
You’ve all given me so much.
I have a family now.
A family that’s shown me I don’t have to be selfish to be a success.
Huddle up, team.
Feelings on three! One, two, three!
ALL: Feelings!
(singsongy) Who wants presents?
I do! I do!
GRAYSON: Ooh, ooh, I do!
I do! I do!
Merch!
(chuckles) Try this on, big fella.
(slurping)
Mr. Burns! Mr. Burns!
I’m so glad you came!
Now it’s a party, huh, guys?
Oh, I would never miss the birthday of football’s brashest bad boy.
Now let’s head out.
You and I are having a night on the town.
It’s time to party with Brandyman!
Or Do-You-Man? I’m… Can we decide on a catchphrase?
Catchphrase TBD!
Are you nuts?
You do realize that Grayson has a career-defining football game tomorrow.
He’s gonna go to bed early after a nice hot bath.
You can try out the Silly Soap I bought. Huh?
All right!
This man plays a game for a living and you infantilize him?
Fine, but your mollycoddling will have dire consequences.
Mark my words.
ANNOUNCER: Mathers with his fourth touchdown of the day!
(cheering)
And in a never-before-seen move, the opposing defense is resigning en masse to try their luck in the Canadian Football League.
Good luck, fellas.
There he is! The man I never thought was a bust for a second!
A 53-point win.
Bet you can’t wait to say something really arrogant.
Just lucky to have great teammates, what a game plan, keep my head down and work.
But also the greats who paved the way in this league.
Where’s my bad boy?
Come on, son. Be a sore winner.
Make Daddy proud.
Maybe you could call the other team soft?
I mean, it’s just us reporters here. No one will know.
No, sir. I’m just trying to be the kind of guy who makes a mother proud.
Are you saying… you’re a mama’s boy?
I’m the biggest mama’s boy on the planet!
Mmm. Tastes good.
Marge Simpson, what have you done?
You’ve ruined our beautiful, arrogant boy!
Ruined? He’s happy now.
What’s wrong, guys? Why are you fighting?
Oh, this woman’s got you as twisted as a Cossack’s mustache.
What happened to the bad boy I raised up from recent adulthood?
Don’t listen to him, Grayson.
I’m so sorry I ruined your spokesperson.
He’s not just my spokesperson.
He’s my spokes-son.
And you stole him from me.
You’re so merged with your own selfishness, you don’t even identify it as selfishness anymore.
You’re a monster!
And you’re winning!
(grunts)
You’ve got to choose, my boy.
Me or her.
Can’t you see you’re tearing me apart?! (sobs)
I need to grind tape of blitz protections against an eight-man box!
(crying)
(sighs) I haven’t heard from Grayson in days.
Neither has the NFL Network, ESPN or Adam Schefter.
The football world hangs in the balance, waiting for this rookie phenom quarterback to choose between his surrogate parents.
My sources tell me that Mathers hasn’t gone back to Mr. Burns and that Marge has just this second finished folding the sheets Grayson may never sleep on again.
What sources?
What if I never see my special big football boy again?
Mom, a fancy invitation came for you.
(gasps) Grayson sent me a ticket for the Sports Channel’s annual awards show.
You’re going to the Sportswardsies?
That’s the one night when pro athletes finally get to thank their agents.
And Grayson picked me as his plus-one, not Mr. Burns.
You won!
Motherhood won!
Yippee!
(wheezes)
(gasps)
LISA: (wheezing) All good, all good.
♪ ♪
You!
You!
Wait, I’m supposed to be sitting next to Grayson.
So am I. (scoffs) I know what’s happening here.
Obviously, our boy sat us together thinking we would reach some sort of rapprochement.
He Parent Trapped us!
Too bad for him– we’re never gonna see eye to eye.
Amen, sister.
A toast to never-ending animosity.
I’ll drink to that.
Enemies forever.
Mm. Ah.
The Sportswardsies are starting.
Kids, have you filled out your betting sheets?
Look at these categories.
Worst Contract?
Best World Series?
The Donald Sterling Appalling Owner Lifetime Achievement Award?
James Dolan, James Dolan, James Dolan.
For me, it’s all about Best Stretcher Ride Thumbs-Up.
Most of all, I’d like to thank Gordo, who I pay six figures to carry my trophies.
Gordo, this is for you, buddy.
ANNOUNCER: When we come back, the Sportswardsy for Most Inspiring Athlete.
MARGE: Oh, he’s looking at the wrong camera.
He’s such a cutie.
How could two people like us, with all our flaws, make this perfect creature?
(sighs) I’m a terrible father.
I should have raised him to be a man, not a brand.
Ah. Let’s promise we’ll do better, Monty.
Together.
The winner for Most Inspiring Athlete is…
Grayson Mathers.
♪ ♪
(cheering, applause)
You all know I’ve had some personal struggles lately.
I was losing the football game of emotions.
But there’s one person who got me through it.
He’s talking about you.
You’re the nurturer.
But you’re his inspiration.
It’s got to be you.
(groans)
And that person is… my fiancée Kaitlyn!
(all gasp)
The three days I’ve known her have seemed like a lifetime.
An Instagram model, a YouTube reactor and the creator of Yoga Yogurt, the faith-based yogurt you eat while yoga-ing.
Kaitlyn is so much more than a business manager to me.
Though she’s that, too! As of this morning!
Hope you can handle total financial control, baby!
Good news, babe!
You’re fighting Floyd Mayweather on a Valentine’s Day pay-per-view!
(whoops)
She’s getting me out of the brandy business, into something more wholesome, y’all: our new line of all-ages hard seltzers.
@Katilicious_97, I can’t wait to marry you.
Tell me there’s a prenup.
No prenup!
That’s how I roll!
Who wants some seltzers?
Dime for you!
And just like that, we’ve been replaced.
One day, they’re these sweet, innocent creatures who are totally reliant on you.
Then, suddenly, it’s two weeks later and they’re gone.
ANNOUNCER: When we return, find out who takes home the Sportswardsy for Best Press Conference Meltdown and Most Valuable MVP.
Plus, Cirque du Soleil will reimagine this year’s Most Flagrant Fouls.
Later, it’s Least Racist Team Name and Coldest Bud Light, brought to you by Bud Light.
And don’t miss Kenny Chesney and his musical tribute to the 100 all-time worst-run vanity charities.
Then, find out which baseball player will take home Highest Batting Average.
And five living legends battle it out for the Most Tone-Deaf Hall of Fame Speech.
And lots more.
All that when the Sportswardsies continue.