The images are all in black and white, with lots of deep greys. Fade in to a basketball court on cracked, unmarked concrete in a dilapidated city park on a sunny day. The net is a rusted-out chain. The hoop looks like it has been rebuilt and reinforced after many years of abuse. Four guys take the court, although at this point, we only see their backs. All action in this location is slowed down by about twenty percent for dramatic effect.
The vocals commence, delivered by a middle-aged guy who looks relatively young for his age (and remarkably similar to the gentleman pictured on this website). He dribbles a scuffed-up basketball in perfect time with the bouncing beat while he mouths the words. He plays Twenty-One against three guys who are quite a bit younger than him, possibly his bandmates. Despite their apparent overconfidence, he holds his own against these guys. He doesn't make all of his shots, but he does make most of them. The other players are surprised. They had underestimated him.
The pretty lady on the otherwise empty sideline bench is impressed by his athletic prowess. The two of them appear to be together. She applauds with her hands raised and then blows him a kiss. Momentarily distracted, he gets knocked over as he takes a jump-shot. The guy who ran into him helps him back up. It's a friendly game, albeit competitive. Meanwhile, the ball rolls around the edge of the rim a few times before eventually falling through the hoop and chain, at which point we launch into the pre-chorus:
I don't come with a warranty
Or a money-back guarantee...
Now we're in a classic American muscle car from the late sixties on an empty highway -- a Mustang or a Chevelle, something like that. Still in black and white, scenes in this location play at regular speed as the dashed white line of the divided highway race by. The man drives and the lady from the sideline rides shotgun. He turns up the radio as if to sing along. She has her hand out the window, surfing the breeze.
When the chorus concludes, we're back on the basketball court, where he makes his first free throw and then misses the second. The chain rattles as the ball deflects back toward the sea of outstretched arms. We're now in the second verse. The game carries on. He continues to mouth the lyrics as he plays. Their competition intensifies, and he is now making far fewer of his shots. Toward the end of the second verse, the man gets an accidental elbow to the ribs, which forces the game into a time out. As he approaches the woman at the sideline, the song enters the second pre-chorus.
For this part of the song, we're in the car again, but this time we're in a big city, and the man and woman have traded seats. Even though it's still his voice, she mouths the chorus as if she is now the one singing along with the radio. He looks up and out his window at the tall buildings as they pass.
We return to the basketball court for the third verse. The main character is back in the game. After a few more setbacks, he gets his second wind. He smiles at the lady on the sideline, then he makes the shot. He goes on to make the first free throw as well. With a series of basic hand gestures that anyone can understand, the guy indicates that he's only one point away from reaching twenty-one. The other players can't seem to believe it. He leans back and shoots the ball, sending it spinning through the open air in a perfect arc toward the basket...
Now in the third chorus, we return once again to the car. They are somewhere with mountains, trees and other picturesque scenery. The guy is driving and the woman is in the passenger's seat. They both mouth the words while reaching across the center seat for the other's hand until their fingers are intertwined. On the very last line of the song, we return to the basketball court, where he sinks the free throw in perfect time with the final crash cymbol. Cha-ching. Fade to black.
Thank you for joining me inside of my head. I hope you liked the view.