All language subtitles for Youngblood - Eng - 25fps - 1986

Get 'em, Jack!

Yeah!

- Come on! Up and down!
- Get the little runt!

- Goddammit!
- (cheering)

Go ahead, Bobby.

(man) Hey, kids, cut it out. Come on.

Break it up. Break it up. Kelly!

Come on, Kelly. Break it up.
Cut it out. That's enough.

I've been offered a tryout
with the Hamilton Mustangs.

All right, Deaner.

They came to one of my games. They've
got one spot open for their play-offs.

- There's too much work to be done here.
- Dad, I can't wait any more.

I gotta play junior if I'm ever gonna
play pro. All the scouts'll be there.

I can't afford to hire someone
in your place.

I figure maybe we could get a tractor
with my bonus money.

Yeah. Like with Kelly's bonus?

All he ended up with was a stick in the eye
and a $2,000 doctor bill.

I'll pick up the slack, Pop.

Yeah, how long do you think that'll last?

I don't wanna be a goddamn farmer
the rest of my life.

- He's just a smart-ass kid.
- We all were... for the first week.

- He's so goddamn small.
- He'll grow.

In a week?

Let him go. He'll be back in two weeks
dragging his tail between his legs.

(Kelly) Now, there's one thing
you're gonna have to learn.

O Canada!

Our home and native land!

True patriot love

In all thy sons command

With glowing hearts we see thee rise

Our True North strong and free!

(Kelly) Hamilton Arena.

He scores!

You wanna come in?

What? Hold your fucking hand, huh?

You're on your own.

Hey.

Thanks.

Forget it. You're worthless
around there anyway.

Don't take any shit from them Canucks.

To them, you're another wetback
crossin' the border to play their game.

- They'll never catch me.
- They'll catch you.

Where'd you get
these guys from, Ray? Mexico?

(Ray) We're only looking for one player.

Like that sorry son of a bitch
who just tripped over the blue line?

Carl Racki. Six feet, 198 pounds. Played
tier two in the Western League last year.

15 goals, 22 assists and - whoo! -
378 minutes in penalties!

(whistle blows)

(referee) Help out! Help out!

Dean Youngblood.
Five foot ten inches, 160 pounds.

He's 17 years old.
He's an American kid from Stanton.

Scored 92 goals this year so far
for the Stanton Flyers.

125 assists and 14 minutes in penalties.

That's Kelly's kid brother.

Come on! Somebody hit the hot dog.

- Why doesn't somebody hit him?
- They can't catch him.

Put Racki across from him.

- Look at him.
- He's goin' for it.

- Stay down.
- Stay down.

- Keep your head up, prick.
- Look where the puck is, asshole.

Wanna go, pretty boy?

Come on, come on, come on.

Let's go.

- He's outta here.
- Pup.

(referee) Come on, take it easy.

Bring him down to the other end.
You all right?

- Yeah.
- You sure?

What do you think, Murray?

He fights like an old lady.

("I'm A Real Man" by John Hiatt)

- Looks good for about six.
- (player) Six? Come on, ten.

- Where's the doc?
- What doc?

- The one who's gonna sew my eye.
- You're looking at him.

(laughter)

Let's see. Where is the little bugger?

Here we go.

I do needlepoint too.
That's one of mine.

Pretty good, huh?

We got a team doctor
but he can't tie his shoelaces.

A player gets cut,
he takes 30 minutes to close him up.

By that time, the guy's lost
15 minutes of the game.

So, anyway, Murray bought me this kit
and told me to learn.

The first month
he stood beside me with a stopwatch.

Yeah.

Your eyes are better than mine.
Once I get it threaded, I'm OK.

- (player) Mad butcher of Hamilton.
- Oh.

I'm out of Novocain,
so this may hurt a little.

OK.

Here we go.

Nothing to it.
Just like zipping up your pants.

Six stitches, five minutes.

Pretty good. Next year
we'll have you doing transplants.

Get him a uniform.

(player) Yeah, a nurse's uniform.

Better make it extra small, Frazier.

- (Murray) Can I talk to you?
- (Racki) Yeah.

I'm gonna go with the other kid. I need
someone who can put the puck in the net.

That pipsqueak?

Maybe you can catch on with another
team. I only have one spot for the playoffs.

- I kicked his ass all over the rink.
- But you're not as fast as he is.

Don't worry. You'll be seeing me around.

(players) Ooh!

Save some of that for the ice, huh?

All right. Mustangs out on the rink
in five minutes.

(player) Go get him, killer.

Shit!

New uniforms for the playoffs?

Nice.

Fuck.

The locker room is that way.

I think he needs a shave.
What do you think, guys?

- I already shaved.
- When? Last week?

Don't think he knows what we mean.

I think he's gonna do something funny.

No. I think he's gonna... bolt!

- You're goin' nowhere!
- On the table.

Ding, ding! Paging Dr Sutton.

The doctor is here. Scalpel.

- Scalpel.
- Scalpel.

Go for it. You wanted a doctor.

- Shaving cream.
- Shaving cream.

Hold him still, boys. We don't want
another Victor Gunderson incident.

Poor Victoria.
And he had so much potential.

Looky, looky!
This shouldn't take long at all.

Press hard, Derek, it's really dull.

OK.

Yes?

You must be one of Murray's boys.

Come on in.

I swear to God,

sometimes I don't know whether I'm
running a boarding house or a hospital.

More of Mr Frazier's embroidery.

- What's your name, honey?
- Excuse me.

I'm Dean Youngblood.

Right. I'll show you your room, Dean.

And then I'll show you the second most
important room in the house, the kitchen.

By the way, I'm Miss McGill.

(Miss McGill) Dean!

Yep.

Can you get the door, honey?

I thought you might like a nice cup of tea.

I do like all my boys to be comfortable.

There we are.

Well, you're settling in, I see.

Goal.

Shit. Excuse me.

It might be a little bit warm.
Here, we can let it cool down.

You know, Dean,

I've been boarding hockey players
in this house for over ten years.

These are some of my boys.

Fred "The Hammer" Murphy.

Defence. Six three, 210.

Great thighs.

Big shot from the point,
averaged only about 10 goals a year,

but, boy, you remembered
every single one of them.

St Louis, Detroit, Chicago, New York.

They say he has an attitude problem.

I always thought he was wonderful.

(Miss McGill) One, two, three...

She do it to me last year.

She do it to me last night.

The only thing better than
a glass of beer is tea with Miss McGill.

Baf, baf, baf!

Hey, I saw you try out.
You've got speed.

Thanks.

Fast legs, slow fists.

- That guy suckered me.
- Poor baby.

Maybe next time we can send you
a telegram. "Get ready for the right hook."

Racki's brutal even for this league.

That man, he's fucking an animal.

Hey, cheers! Miss McGill!

A round of tequila.
Con limones de cojones!

To the game
and getting out of this hick town.

Thank God there is still a sport
for middle-sized white boys.

Amen!

Lightweight.

- Learn to take a drink, man.
- Fuck, I'm sorry.

Yo! Another round.

Local talent at three o'clock.

Anybody we know?

You take the one with the moustache.

- Ladies, hi.
- Hi.

- Good to see you.
- Hi.

- I saw every game last year.
- I missed just one. That's cos I was sick.

I missed three cos of haemorrhoids.

What's so funny?
I had to have surgery. I'll show you.

- Not right now, please.
- Maybe after a few more drinks.

Maureen.

- Oh, look!
- What?

- (Maureen) I don't see anything.
- No, I guess not.

So, bottoms up?

(screams)

I was wondering where those things were.

- Yo! Two Bloody Marys!
- Tequila once again for the second time!

Cheers.

Cheers, man.

(man) Hey, goddammit! Watch it!

Ready?

Cheers.

(player) Cheers. Come on, let's go.
We're just gettin' started.

Cheers!

(whistle)

Lookin' good, rookie!

Fuck me.

Youngblood and Sutton.

- (player) Eat him up, Derek.
- Go get him, Sutton.

(Murray) Let's see who wants it!

(player) Back to the pond, rookie!

All right? Come on.
You better take a break.

Want some milk and cookies
or something? How about a little nap?

Can I ask you a question?
How'd you get so horseshit in one day?

- Maybe I made a mistake about you.
- I don't think so.

You better know so. This isn't
some recreational hockey league.

If you wanna be here tomorrow,
you better show me more than right now.

Get out there! Go!

How was it?

It's your type of film. You'd love it.

- I can't stand the sight of blood.
- Unless it's your own, right?

That's right.

- Want some popcorn?
- Sure.

See you around.

Book of the Month selection?

I guess.

- Here.
- Heavy.

And no pictures. I'll buy it for you.
It'll give you something to do on the bus.

And in bed.

Thank you.

And this.

Thanks.

I think all hockey players
should know how to read and write.

- Ah, shit. The coach.
- Shit.

Dad.

Dad?

Fuck me.

Hi, Dad.

- What's going on here?
- We met at the theatre.

Well, in front of the theatre.
We were there together. Separately.

We went to the bookstore.
She bought me a book.

I see. Look, it's a quarter to ten.
You want a lift home?

I'll be home later.

10.30.

I'm sorry. I probably got you into trouble.
I should have gone home with him.

No.

It's just been kinda hard
to meet people I can talk to up here.

- Where's down there?
- The city.

Buffalo?

- New York.
- Yeah.

I've heard of it.

I like a man who's been around.
I grew up there when Dad was playing.

My mom's still there.
She's remarried to some jerk.

Pardon me - rich jerk.

I've only been up here a couple of years.

You oughta spend a Saturday night
in Stanton sometime.

No, thank you.

It's not like Murray doesn't try.

He made me stick boy for the team, then
he wouldn't let me into the locker room.

I can't imagine why not.

Now he's got me on the Zamboni.

My big goal in life is to do the ice
at Madison Square Garden.

At least you have a reason to be here.

Where else could I get
beaten up every day,

treated like shit by a bunch of prima
donna Canadians, get my nuts shaved...

Don't worry.
It grows back.

At least you still have your own teeth.

Or don't you?

Yep, still mine.

Look... I think you're real nice
and got a cute ass,

but I don't think it's a good idea
if we see each other. OK?

Thanks for the book.

Sure.

You're sure you don't want me
to walk you home?

No.

It's kinda hard to get lost in this town.

(rock music)

- This'll hurt me more than it'll hurt you.
- Yeah, right.

What's with the rose?

Fan club. Toronto chapter.

Yeah?

Got any more?

(music stops)

(hairdryer buzzes)

How can you be thinking about the game
when you're styling your hair?

Shit.

Sometimes I wonder
if players today have it in here.

You know what Gordie Howe's
bonus was when he signed?

A jacket. A team jacket.

Lousy agent.

Now everybody wants a 20-year no-cut
contract and a second home in Bora Bora.

Where's that?

The way you looked at practice this week,

you'll be lucky if you're drafted
by the Tallahassee Warthogs.

You wanna go back to the farms?
And the mills and the mines?

If you don't, you better start thinking
about this game right now.

We'll start with Zeeny's line.
Hewitt and Weber on defence.

Youngblood, take left wing
on Sutton's line.

(cheering and whistling)

Come on, Derek!

Fuck!

(ice hockey commentary on radio)

Derek! Derek!

Watch the offside.

(whistle)

- Stay on side, Youngblood.
- Pass the puck.

- Don't tell me when to pass the puck.
- You want me to slow down for you?

Settle this family squabble
some other time.

I got another game to work next week,
if you don't mind.

(player) Come on, ref! Drop it!

Here, back.

- Come on, I'm open.
- Don't play with it. Move it.

Now!

- Back! I'm open!
- Take it in!

They look like they've been
skating together for years.

Youngblood moves into the Toronto zone.
He's really showing some speed.

(opponent) I got him!

He moves to his left.
He skates around them.

He's in alone on the goalie.

- He scores!
- Way to go, Youngblood!

(laughter)

Shh!

- Who's winning?
- Mustangs.

(PA) Scoring for Hamilton,
number ten, Dean Youngblood.

Assist from number nine, Derek Sutton.

Nice move, rookie.

Rossini, take Youngblood's next shift.

Jessie.

Oh! Agh!

Dean?

Is there any blood?

You son of a bitch.

Hockey players love the sight of blood.
Especially their own.

I scored a goal.

Really? I don't follow hockey.

Or hockey players.

You know, your dad benched me.

Derek says it's because I'm seeing you.

Maybe he's right.

If I'm getting benched for something
I didn't do, I might as well do it.

- Do what?
- Take you out.

- Why do you think I'll go out with you?
- Cos your old man doesn't want you to.

Sounds like a pretty good reason.

(waltz music)

It doesn't look like a Mustangs practice,
that's for sure.

Is this where all the young people come?

It's either this or Slumber Party Massacre.
Come on.

Don't worry. I'll catch you if you fall.
Just hold onto the side and you'll be fine.

There we go.

There you go.
Looking better.

Good. Keep going.

- You're real coordinated.
- I'll play for New York someday.

I think you oughta learn how to skate first.

You two all right?

Yeah, we're just fine.
It's his first time.

You better stay alongside of the boards
or you're gonna get run over.

OK.

Come on.

- (Dean) So, you can skate.
- (guard) Damn kids.

Too bad for you, cos you're it.

Hey, lady, slow down!

(blows whistle)

Gotcha!

(Murray singing)

In here.

Shit.

Great voice.

Closet crooner.

"Mad Dog" Murray Chadwick.

Look.

Second row.

I used to go to all the games.

Right next to the penalty box
so you could be near your old man.

He never lost a fight, did he?

He wasn't just some goon. I was there
when he got a goal in an all-star game.

All I remember is my dad
racing up the ice with the puck,

got up to the blue line, cut across
the middle and then blasted it on the fly.

Upper left-hand corner.
Goalie never moved.

I thought you didn't follow hockey.
Or hockey players.

What?

Dean, what happens
if you don't make the pros?

I'll make the pros.

What if you don't?

Ever since I was six years old,
I've been faster than anyone.

Even kids three and four years older
than I was, they could never catch me.

They used to try and beat the shit
out of me instead.

We got this big pond on our farm.

As soon as it would freeze over, me and
my brother Kelly would put on our skates.

We'd stay out there all day long.

It'd be dark by the time we got home. We
had to sit by the fire to thaw out our feet.

My mom used to think we were crazy.

I remember never wanting to come in
when I was young.

When you were young.
How old do you think you are?

17. If I don't sign a pro contract
in the next couple of years, I'm through.

It's just the way it works. And I don't
wanna work in a goddamn mill or farm.

What does your mother
think about all this?

She left my dad and us about four years
ago. She doesn't know what's going on.

I'm sorry.

I guess she got tired of the farm too.

My brother and I got used to her being
gone, but I don't think my old man has.

- Still hurt?
- No.

Maybe I will.

Will what?

Start following hockey again.

(giggling)

- Good book?
- Great writer.

- It's a nice room.
- It's not bad.

(bed springs creak)

- Bed's a little creaky.
- Tell me about it. I use it every night.

To sleep on.

Of course.

(kettle whistles)

("Get Ready" by Diana Ross
and the Supremes on radio)

(hums along to radio)

No, no! Don't!

(Jessie) Stop it!

Room service?

(bell rings)

God, he's good.

What about a shot of tequila?

No way.

So, did old lady McGill catch you before
or after you put the puck in the net?

I would have loved to have seen
the look on her face.

I think this is yours.

(bell rings)

Scores!

So, does little boom-boom
have a crush on her?

- Who? Miss McGill?
- Fuck you.

- I guess I do.
- She is a fox.

How long have the stitches been in?

A week.

Where you going?

I'm gonna take 'em out.

Why?

You don't want stitches in Thunder Bay.

How come?

They see 'em,
they'll try to open you up again.

- That's nice.
- Sit down.

Don't worry. I've only had
a couple of cases of beer.

- You sure are a glutton for punishment.
- This wasn't my idea.

I'm talking about taking out
Chadwick's only daughter. Hold still.

I just looked at her once
and he benched me.

You just want someone
to pass you the puck.

Listen, little hot dog, I don't need you
to pass me the goddamn puck.

I made 91 goals this year
before you showed up.

Maybe you can play for
the Tallahassee Warthogs next year, boy.

I don't give a shit where I play,

as long as I go number one in the draft
and I sign the biggest contract I can.

I've been busting my ass for four years
and I'm gonna get what's coming to me.

I figure if I'm lucky, I can make
enough money to last me for a while.

I'm not gonna be a lawyer or a doctor.

That's for sure.

I didn't even get to finish high school.

But I can play the game, and so can you.

But it's more than just skating fast
and shooting bullets.

You gotta understand,
they got us by the balls, Deaner.

We all wanna play so bad.

That's all you wanna do
when you're growing up.

Then you realise
that it's more than just a game.

You gotta play it according to their rules.

Do you still like playing?

Fucking love it.

(PA) The Hamilton Mustangs, winners
of their semifinal series against Toronto.

Sutton. Careful out there.
You'll get your hair messed up.

Go hump your St Bernard, scumnuts.

(spectator) Hewitt,
learned how to skate yet?

And now, returning home,
undefeated in their series against Calgary,

our own Thunder Bay Bombers!

I'll be a son of a bitch!
They picked up Racki.

(Murray) Another animal for their zoo.

- Three blind mice.
- Yeah.

The series should be a classic,
as the slick Mustangs face the Bombers,

the most intimidating team
in junior hockey.

Starting line-ups for tonight's game.
For the Mustangs...

(Murray) Sutton, Harris and Lynch. Go!

Left wing, Lynch,
and centre, Sutton.

For the Bombers: In goal, Lexler.

On defence, Brown and...

Gentlemen, it's a big series.
Play it tough and play it clean.

(spectator) Rip their eyes out!

What I wanna know is
why you guys aren't in the Ice Follies?

You're my Junior A hockey team.

I never saw such a sorry
bunch of losers in my life!

The big mistake I made
was letting Racki go.

He and the rest of them own you tonight.

I got three bus tickets here to some
of your favourite Junior C hockey teams.

Blind River,

Medicine Hat

and Squaw Island.

If you don't want one of these - and I'll do
it too - you'd better start hitting out there!

Let 'em know
you're in the same goddamn rink!

I didn't drive up the fucking Arctic Circle
to get my ass kicked by these goons!

First half you could skate around
with a carton of eggs and not break any.

You're tougher than that.
You know it, I know it.

We're in this together.
You're a team, a family.

You wanna win?

Start acting like one.

Get out there!

Let's go!

Do it, do it!
Take your best shot!

Hey, Youngblood!

(siren)

Youngblood, take left wing
from Naz in this period.

Son of a bitch!

(PA) Scoring for the Hamilton Mustangs,
number nine, Derek Sutton,

on an assist from number ten,
Dean Youngblood.

The rookie setting up Sutton
for his 93rd tally this year.

(player) Go get him, Racki.

(Murray) All right, move it, Derek!

Shit!

- I'm gonna carve you up, Racki.
- All right, settle down.

He ain't hurt.
Get up, Racki.

- Are you OK?
- Let's go, Hewitt. You got five for slash.

- All right.
- What about the spear, man?

- He's gonna get let Racki get away with it.
- What about the spear?

You got two chances of winning this
argument - slim and none. Get in there.

You got ten!

Hey, Hannah, eat this!

That's the match!
Get the animal outta here!

Penalty against Hamilton,
number two, Duane Hewitt.

- Take a shower, Hewitt!
- Fuck off!

What about Racki? What is this? A tryout
for you, Hannah? You fucking blind?

Next player penalty, Hamilton.

Why don't you use these?
You're missing a good game.

Get somebody in the box. Now.

Look, lights. Ice.

You wanna spend the rest of the night
in the locker room, keep it up.

A red line.

I'm gonna get that son of a bitch.

Scoring for Thunder Bay,
his first goal in a Bomber uniform,

number 20, Carl Racki.

Assist to number two, Dick Paradise.

- Chew on this, Chadwick.
- Chew on this, asshole.

- Sutton, come on off the bench.
- I got a regular shift.

Chadwick, what'd you feed 'em for lunch?
Chicken sandwiches?

Derek!

Hit him, Coach!

That's it. Relax and enjoy the game.

Shoot it in!

Youngblood!

On the board!

I got him!

Shit!

All right, Youngblood!

- All right!
- All right, Dean!

Scoring for Hamilton, number ten,
Dean Youngblood, unassisted.

Come on.

- Jesus Christ.
- Ambulance.

Oh, man.

How are you feeling?

- Cold.
- What?

Cold.

They put a plate in my head.
It feels like I'm still on the ice.

It's like a filling for a tooth.

Like a big, big, fucking filling.

So what happened?

Racki blindsided you.

Did you get that son of a bitch for me?

Yeah, I got him.

All right.

Boom-boom.

Yeah, the doc seemed to know
what he was doing.

He sure wasn't looking too good.

I'm not sure about brain damage.

You can't get a CAT scan
in that rock-bottom town.

It's a damn shame. We're not gonna
get someone to take his place.

One more game
and we would have had it wrapped up.

- Don't hang 'em up. Put 'em on.
- (all protest)

You heard me. Right now.
And no pucks. Contact drill.

Contact drill?!

You were lucky to win. Ten minutes
and they would have turned it around.

So let's go.
Jordy, take centre for Sutton.

You want somebody to dress you,
Youngblood?

Get your gear on and get on the ice.

Why?

Because I said so, that's why.

You wanna practise now?

You're not on the ice in five minutes,
you're off the team.

And just keep walking, Youngblood.

All the way back to the farm.

Come on, let's go.

God.

I should have done something.

There's nothing you could have done.

I could have hit Racki before he hit Derek.

- You mean maim Racki?
- Why not? He deserved it.

Dammit! You're all alike!
It means that you're no better than Racki.

- Derek wouldn't be in the hospital.
- So maybe it's Racki in the hospital.

Or maybe it's you, Dean.

Maybe it's you
covered with bandages and tubes.

Maybe it should be.

God, what are you saying?

I watched that game
and I saw Derek lying there on the ice.

And I watched them take him out, and all I
could think about is what if it'd been you?

What if it was you?
Why don't you just quit?

I did! I walked off the team today.

For the first time in my life,
I didn't wanna play.

Dean, it's only a game.

It's all I ever wanted to do.

Gee, superstar,
you really showed 'em, didn't you?

"All I ever wanted to do was play hockey."

"But the guys on the other team
are real mean."

"And the coach, the coach isn't fair."

- "And my best friend's not feeling well."
- He's half-dead, you asshole!

I don't give a fuck if he's all the way dead.
Does that mean you are too? Huh?

I didn't bust my nuts
doing the work of two

so you could come back
and whine about hard-luck stories.

Would you rather spread manure

or play hockey for 20,000 people
at Madison Square Garden?

- Spread manure.
- You candy ass!

I got down on my knees. I begged them
to let me play. With one eye!

You think Derek would have hopped a bus
home if you cracked your skull open?

Huh?

There's no way. If you were so concerned
about him, you should have stuck around.

You'd have had the rest of the series
to make Racki pay.

That'd have done Derek a lot of good.
They're gonna kick Racki out anyway.

Wake up, superstar. This is junior hockey
now. He'll sit out one game max.

If anything, he's strengthened
his bargaining position with the pros.

Fuck!

And Chadwick is a real prick, huh?
He's the best coach in the league, Dean.

He knows what it takes to be a pro.
You need it here.

And you never quit. Ever!

I was only kidding when I said you'd be
back dragging your butt in two weeks.

I'm half-ready to call 'em up,
see if they'll let me take your place.

You wouldn't have made it anyway.
All you could do was fight.

Shit!

Push! Push!

Kelly, give me a minute.

"Mustangs ran into a Pearl Harbor of sorts
last night at the home rink,

when they were bombed off the ice

by the rough-and-tumble visitors
from Thunder Bay."

"The Bombers intimidated the Mustangs
from the drop of the puck,

as they checked them
from one end of the ice to the other."

"Without injured star Derek Sutton
and rookie Dean Youngblood,

they were unable to stage
an offensive threat."

"League officials announced
the suspension of a player."

"It was ruled the defence man
Duane Hewitt of the Mustangs

will be disqualified
for the final game next week."

I don't see anything
about your buddy Racki in here.

Just hit it, pillow hands.

Don't worry. It's not gonna hit you back.

Get your hands up high.

Keep 'em up there.

You're gonna lead with your left.

Jab. Setting him up for the big right.

Here's a combination.

Remember, though,
get that stick away from him first.

You fuck!

Go ahead.
Give it a shot.

See how easy that is?
No harder, no faster.

Jab, cross. Jab, cross.

Go ahead. Try.

Come on.

His head's up here.

Good. Jab right.

Come up.

Good. Move it around.

Finish him.

What are you doing here?

If you're gonna go back,
I wanna make sure you're ready.

- I'm ready.
- Oh, yeah?

So hit me.

I said hit me.

Hit me.
What are you waiting for? Come on.

Come on. What are you waiting for?

You can learn to punch in the barn,
but you gotta learn to survive on the ice.

Come on. There's a couple of things
I might be able to show you.

You gotta be able to keep your balance,
hold a guy off, maybe take a few punches.

Come on, grab me.
Grab me. Come on.

Come on, kid.
Show me something.

Show me something. Come on, kid,
show me something. Come on, kid.

Christ, he's strong for a little guy.
Come on, kid.

Come on, kid.
Go for the jersey.

Goddammit! Pull it!

Why didn't you help me before?

Huh?

Why did you wait?

I didn't want another son hurt.

Sometimes us old farts aren't so smart.

So what else you got, Pop?

There might be a trick or two.

(PA) Let's hear a warm welcome for the
visiting team, the Thunder Bay Bombers.

This is the final game in the
Canadian Junior Hockey Championship,

the memorial cup going to the winner.

Are you gonna let me in, Fraze?

Let me get Murray. OK?

Scratched from tonight's roster,
the following players:

For Thunder Bay -
number 27, Dennis Turnbull.

And for Hamilton -
number two, Duane Hewitt,

number nine, Derek Sutton,
and number ten, Dean Youngblood.

What are those for?

I wanna play tonight.

You're a scratch, or didn't you hear?
You walked off the team. You're through.

- You need me.
- Think it's that easy?

If I get by you, will you let me play?

What makes you think you can get by me?

(Derek) Let him in, Coach.

Go ahead. Suit up.
I might use you.

So you decided to be a hockey player.

Yeah. I did.

I figured you'd show.

You gonna watch?

No, I've never watched a game in my life.

Listen, just forget about Racki, man.
He's not worth it.

Just go out there
and win that fucking game.

OK?

I would like to remind the audience that
the consumption of alcohol is prohibited.

Violators will be prosecuted.
Thank you for your cooperation.

Ladies and gentlemen, number ten
for the Mustangs, Dean Youngblood,

formerly a scratch,
will be in the line-up tonight.

Last game, gentlemen.
Let's make it a good one.

It's second period, Murray.
The kid's still sitting on the fucking bench.

Scoring for the Thunder Bay Bombers,
number 20, Carl Racki,

with assist going to number 15.

Why the hell doesn't he put him in?

Youngblood, take left wing.

Youngblood, you forgot your helmet.

It's about time, Chadwick!

Come on, Youngblood!

Huh? Huh?

Scoring for the Mustangs,
number ten, Dean Youngblood,

with an assist going to
number four, Tom McCoy.

Patrick. I got him.

Hey! I'm open!

Cheap shot, cheap shot.
Hannah, open your eyes!

(Murray) It's a cheap shot.
You miss everything.

Why don't you use that whistle?

It's a five-minute major.
He's bleeding all over the ice.

(Frazier) Easy.

- Let me see.
- (player) Fucking animal.

I gotta get him off.

For fuck's sake, not now.

You'll be all right.

The momentum has shifted back to
the Bombers, mounting another attack...

No nerve damage.

You get a cap, it'll look as good as new.

One period left.
One period away from winning it all

or losing to these hackers with their
shit-eating grins and wrestling tactics,

from remembering something the rest of
your life or something you wanna forget.

How would you like to wake up at 3am
with the scoreboard flashing:

Bombers 2 - Mustangs 1?

Think about when
you're shaking their hands.

You wanna be able to look them
dead in the eye, not down at their skates.

Let's play some hockey!

Shoot it, Dean!

Why doesn't he hit him back?

Stick him! Stick him in the head!

What's the matter?
Leave your balls at home, Youngblood?

Sit down and shut up, lard ass!

Scoring again for the Mustangs, with
only ten seconds left in regulation time,

Dean Youngblood, unassisted.

There's the puck!

Call it, Hannah!

Call it, you meat head!

You crazy, Hannah?
There's three seconds left. Is that a call?

Attaboy, Hannah!
Attaboy! You're beautiful!

- What are you calling?
- Penalty shot.

I love you.

- For what?
- Penalty shot, Hamilton.

- Open your goddamn eyes.
- He tripped over his legs.

- You pulled him down from behind.
- He took a dive.

The rest of you guys
get to your benches.

Get outta here, Hannah.

Penalty shot awarded to the Mustangs,
number ten, Dean Youngblood.

Son of a bitch.

(whistle)

Go on, Deaner. All yours.

Scoring at 13:57 of the final period,
with only three seconds left in the game,

for the Mustangs,
number ten, Dean Youngblood!

Square off.
Keep your sticks down on the ice.

Get it down.

Rossini, take Youngblood out.

Hold up, Hannah.

No guts, Murray, eh?

- I'm not coming off.
- The game's over.

No, it's not.

Murray, I'm not coming off.

(Bombers' coach) Chadwick, quit stalling.

Watch your stick.

I got it.

Let's go... pretty boy.

Let's go.

Get his stick away, Deaner!

Come on!

I'm gonna shove that stick
right up your ass.

- What stick?
- If they wanna fight, let 'em go.

Take your best shot, Youngblood.

All right! Yes!

- Let's go.
- Come on, tough guy.

Come on.

Come on, Racki.

Get up!

Shit.

Way to go, Deaner!

- Let me at him!
- (Dean) I'm waiting, Racki.

Come on. Yeah!

(Hannah) It's all over, boys.
Let's go home.

Jessie! Jessie!

Hey, Dean. Can I have your autograph?

Sure.

You guys got a pen or...?

(all mumble) No.

I have it.

So how many goals
did you score last year?

- None.
- None? Why not?

Cos I'm a goalie.

Right.

What about you guys?
How many goals did you score last year?

- I scored 30.
- Yeah? What about you?

78.

78, huh?

You'll be playing
for the Mustangs next year.

- Thanks a lot.
- Thanks a lot, Mr Youngblood.

What about me, Mr Youngblood?

You look like shit.

But I love you anyway.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

Are you all right?
- I'll be all right.