Look at Gotham State's Brian Rogers! He's a one-man offense.
A repeat performance this weekend against that tough Tech team...
all but guarantees Rogers a big-buck pro contract.
Sounds like it's off to the pros for you, roommate.
Maybe. But he's right. The scouts will be watching me real close against Tech.
No sweat. You'll dazzle them.
I hope so. Making the pros means I can help out my folks.
Maybe even put my sister through college.
Time for Boseman's Bloopers. Boy, they were coming off the walls this week.
Heavily favored middleweight champ Rudy Lovell set two new records:
One for the shortest fight in history, the other for the 50-yard dash.
Goalie Rick Gale came up with a novel way to defend his goal.
Rather unorthodox, wouldn't you say, Rick? But effective.
And here's top seed Chris Adams, making it look like she's in the wrong racket.
Seriously, though, this was mighty puzzling behavior from some of our finest athletes.
I'll say.
Telegram for Brian Rogers.
- Here you go. - Good evening, gentlemen.
- This is weird. - Let me see.
"Dear Brian, best of luck against Tech."
And remember that only a fool knows no fear. I'm betting on it.
"A fan."
As I said:
- Weird. - Weird.
Hike! Hike!
Yet another bad pass by Rogers.
Brian Rogers is having the worst day of his collegiate career.
Come on, Brian, get it together.
All right. All right. Let's try a run.
Off tackle.
On third and 25, we need to pass!
Yeah, yeah, okay, okay. Yeah, yeah, sure, pass.
Are you okay, man?
Yeah, yeah. No problem.
The ball is snapped. Rogers is going back.
No! Don't hurt me! Don't hurt me!
They were so big and scary.
I couldn't...
It's gonna be all right, son. We're gonna take you to the infirmary for observation.
It was unbelievable, Batman. The guy totally freaked right there on the field.
- Brian Rogers. The Rock. - He was under a lot of pressure, Robin.
You can never tell when...
Time to punch in.
Oh, no. Not him! Come on. This way!
Robin!
He don't stop.
That's because he don't know when to quit!
Robin, give me a hand.
I...
I can't.
Hey, Batman, catch this!
No!
Oh, my!
Oh, my.
Hey, boy blunder, what's the matter?
Bat got your tongue?
This will take care of bird boy.
All right, Robin. Pull yourself together.
I don't know what happened to me. I was scared to death.
I couldn't even think. It was so unreal.
It's too strange that you and your roommate would have panic attacks on the same day.
I still can't believe it! I could've gotten you killed!
Calm down. We'll get a lead on it.
Did you see this?
The screwy telegram? Sure.
Hey, what's this?
Our lead.
Take it easy, fella.
I suspect the chemical is absorbed through the skin.
- Nothing's happening. - Yet.
Just as I thought.
The fear chemical is activated by adrenaline.
So whenever you or Brian or any of the other athletes got agitated...
The stuff kicks in, turning our excitement to fear.
But how long is this gonna last?
I'm afraid there's only one person who can answer that. The professor of fear himself.
The Scarecrow.
Oh, it can't be. He's locked up in Arkham.
Isn't he?
- This is for Jonathan Crane. - I got it!
Hey, corn on the cob. A scarecrow's gotta love that.
Has Professor Crane lost his appetite?
- You're not supposed to be here. - But the Scarecrow is.
What do you mean? He's in his cell.
- I'd like to make sure of that. - Take my word.
- I just saw him five minutes ago. - Then you won't mind if I pay him a visit.
No! No, you can't do that! It's against the rules! You can't!
Stay with him, Robin.
Fine with me.
The cowl is familiar, but I'm blanking on the face.
No! Don't go in! Don't do it! No!
- Don't! - Wait!
Professor Crane?
Twenty-seven eight, Twenty-seven nine, Twenty-eight thousand dollars.
It's a pleasure doing business.
You've been winning a lot here, Mr...
You may call me "Lucky."
Yeah? Well, Lucky, that's what you must be, because I ain't seen you lose.
Not even once over the last week.
Yes, well, I make my own luck.
That Lucky knows something, and I wanna know it too.
Be persuasive.
Lost?
You have that bewildered look, but your sort always does.
I ain't lost. I'm looking for you.
I wanna know how come you always win, Mr. Lucky.
It's quite simple, actually. I fix the games.
You can't fix all those sports. Nobody can.
Oh, ye of little brain, allow me to illustrate.
Here. You can read, can't you?
"Boo"? Hey, is this some kind of joke?
It's no joke, I assure you. It's the fear of victory and the agony of...
The Scarecrow!
So now you understand step one in how I fix an athletic contest.
- I shall proceed to step two. - No! No! Get away!
He's gonna get me. He's gonna get me. He's gonna get me!
That's how we found him. Scared as a rat at a cat convention.
- I've never seen anything like it. - You aren't watching the sports channel.
Sports?
You mean those athletes?
- What's that got to do with...? - Put two and two together, commissioner.
That goon in there works for Leon the bookie.
And word has it, he's been taking it on the chin lately.
You're telling me that walking pile of straw scares the stuffing out of sports stars?
- And then bets against their teams? - Exactly.
A perfect way to scare up some quick cash for his sick schemes.
Steady, Dick. You can do it.
No! I'm not afraid!
I'm not afraid!
I'm not... No!
I learned to walk on a high wire.
Now I can't stand on a step stool without freaking.
I'm no good to you anymore.
Easy, Dick. It's bound to wear off.
But in the meantime, you've got to fight it. Regain control. Come on.
Where?
I thought we'd catch a game tonight.
The Gotham Knights are favored 4-1, thanks to their quarterback, Mitch Nole.
You think he's gonna get a telegram?
I'd say it's a good bet.
I don't know. I'll only get in the way.
You can be my extra set of eyes. Get in.
I'll drive real slow.
Okay, Robin. Get it together.
Telegram for Mitch Nole.
What? What's wrong? All I did was double-park!
I'll move it! I swear!
All right, Scarecrow. What's your game plan this time?
Hut!
Mitch Nole is ripping the Colonials apart!
Four hundred yards passing, and the game's not over yet.
There's enough powder in that helmet to panic a pachyderm!
Hut! Hut!
He should be prostrating himself, crying for mercy!
Change of luck, Scarecrow?
You!
You're aware that gambling is illegal in Gotham?
I need the money, Batman. You know the cost of chemicals these days.
It'll take much more than this to bring every pathetic person in Gotham...
to their knees, kissing my feet!
No closer, Batman!
Unless you want a stampede of half-crazed humanity crushing and clawing each other!
Oh, no!
Come on, Robin. Get a grip!
Now, what guarantee do I have you won't follow me?
You have my word, Scarecrow. Just don't drop the vial.
Actually, Batman, I'd prefer a little insurance that you'll be otherwise occupied.
It's a fumble! This could mean disaster for Gotham!
Wait! Look at that!
What a recovery!
Good work, Robin.
I also snagged a helmet that had some of this in it.
Looks like you've got a handle on your problem.
Yeah. I'm getting there.
The Gotham Knights wasted no time signing Brian Rogers...
making our local champ their first-round draft pick.
Looks like your friend is back on track again.
Yeah, I can't wait to congratulate him.
You can always send a telegram.