Original subtitles

- You should sit. - I'll stand.

- Please sit. - I've got a concussion,

not multiple scloritis.

- Close. - Looked like rigor moritis

an hour ago. - Sorry, my guy.

You didn't hit me, Sanguinet. Cool it.

- Just sit. - I'll stand.

- Why won't you just sit? - Because I got a concussion,

not cerebral policies. - Close again.

I'm really sorry, my guy.

I don't know if this calls for your hand

on my back, Sanguinet. - You couldn't go.

- For a period. - You know what I'm gonna say.

Yep. - What?

Keep your head up, kid!

- You're done. - What do you mean, I'm done?

- Shoresy... - What does she mean, I'm done?

It ain't hieroglyphics, dude. You're done.

Just 'cause I can't push when I shit?

- No. - Then fer what?!

You've had two concussions this past month.

You have a pulled groin on the right side,

and smashed ankle on the left. Should I go on?

- Sure. - You can't push when you shit.

- Speak now. - You know what I'm gonna say.

- Yep. - What?

Go 'til you can't go no more.

Hell yeah, fuck yeah.

I have time for that, Shoresy.

The classic hockey player mentality.

Play through anything. Never let them know you're hurt.

That's right, give your balls a tug.

But this isn't the 90s.

An entire arena just saw you get knocked out cold.

Not to mention all the people watching the BROdude broadcast.

So, at this point, it's not about you

or what you wanna play through anymore.

It's about us and this organization.

And dressing a player who's...

- Who's what? - Fucked up.

You're not playing the semi-final.

But you better believe

we're gonna beat the Yanks for you.

- Promise, my guy. - Sanguinet, shut the fuck up.

- And I think it's time... - Nat!

...you had an honest conversation with yourself.

You're too old for this, Shoresy.

Can't we agree that's an outside dog?

About whether or not you should play again at all.

I know how close you are with your family.

I'm so fucking mad at you.

Talk to them.

Hey...

You'd never have to see your favorite YouTuber again.

I'm Jory Jordan, and this is the Sudbury Kids

Sports Report: Semi-Final Edition.

Tomorrow's game features a rematch of the NOSHO Cup final

that saw the SOO Hunt victorious over the Sudbury

Blueberry Bulldogs. The winner of that match

will advance to the final, where they'll play the winner

of the Charlottetown Reds and the undefeated

Rapides de Rawdon. I had a chance to sit down

with SOO Hunt players Delaney, Palmer, and Schnurr

for the scoop.

Gentlemen, let me start off by saying

what a thrill it is to be sitting here with the champs

of the NOSHO Cup.

- Thanks. - All right.

- Pleasure's ours. - Schnurr,

what a week it's been. Could you have ever imagined

you'd be lacing 'em up with the likes of

the Brooks Barrelmen? - No.

Delaney, in your wildest dreams,

did you ever see yourself scoring a goal on a team

from outside of Toronto? - No.

Palmer, let's rewind the clock.

You're just a little Palmlet, lying in bed,

dreaming of the big leagues. Fast forward 20 years,

you're in Sudbury, Ontario, playing a team

from Rawdon, Quebec. Isn't it something?

- I guess. - My Grade 6 teacher,

Mr. Bender used to tell me, shoot for the moon,

'cause even if you miss, you'll land among the stars.

Wasn't until this very moment

that I truly understood what he meant.

- Is he having a piss? - Pardon?

- Are you having a piss? - I don't believe so.

I feel like you're taking the piss out of us.

That couldn't be further from the truth, Delaney.

You know, it's time like these I can't help but pause to think,

what did I do to get so lucky? I don't have the answer,

but I must've done something. - We're happy for ya.

Some want love, some want money.

Look me in the eyes and tell me I don't have it all

holding this mic for the three of you right now.

- I won't do that. - 1752,

Ben Franklin flies a kite in a thunderstorm

and discovers electricity. Some say that's dangerous.

I say that's what it takes...

to get where I goddamn am.

Fellas, I'm gonna go buy a lottery ticket.

But before I do, are you aware that number 69,

Shore, will not be dressed for the semi-final match-up?

- What? - Why?

Four to six.

Oh, fucking kick me when I'm down.

If the shoe fits, wear it. If the truth hurts, bare it.

Smells like fuckin' Japanese tapas in here.

Tit fucker. - Smells like fuckin' Nanbanzuke.

Your hit in the first round was a soft four to six,

'cause you didn't get knocked out.

Well, that's big comin' from you, Goody.

The four to six fuckin' medicine woman.

But you're a hard four to six now.

'Cause you got knocked out. - Who's this, the fuckin'

four to six Ravi Shankar? - Whoa, whoa, whoa.

The Maharishi Ramakrishna?

No, no, no, hold on, I'm still listening

to the four to six Bhagwan.

Then let's walk again, old man.

Oh, walk off a cliff, ya fuckin' smartass.

- B'ys, he's right rotted. - Walk your nuts

into a fuckin' doorknob.

You're right crooked, aren't ya, b'y?

Hey, boys.

Yeah, I'm your brother.

Yeah, we can be honest with each other.

Yes, even if I don't like what you're saying. What's good?

You fuckin' suck, man.

- Well-- - You suck.

- Well-- - You suck.

- It ain't your fault, Shoresy. - Oh, no. Oh, no, no way.

Your body won't do what ya needs it to do no more, old man.

Well, I'll tell ya what it can do. Fuck your mom.

There's an expiration date on guys who plays like you.

- Shea Weber, Dan Girardi. - Brendan Gallagher.

- He's still playing! - The body can only take so much.

We play on a team with Frankie,

and you're making up your minds about my body?

What?

You haven't heard, have ya, b'y?

Where's Frankie?

Frankie.

Oui.

Oui.

Lysandre Nadeau!

Frankie...

Laurence Leboeuf!

- Laurence Leboeuf. - Laurence Leboeuf.

Frankie, hmm...

Oui.

Marie-Mai!

Stop. Stop this.

Uh, Frankie?

Marjorie!

Don't blow your whistle too hard, Shoresy.

You'll give yourself another conky.

I said the same thing to your mom

about blowing my dink. - Fuck you, Shoresy.

Oh, quit crying, Cory. You're just like your mom.

- Yeah, fuck you. - She made me put her legs

behind her head, then cried when she got a leg cramp.

It's always something with her. I'm so sick of it.

- Fuck you, Shoresy. - Fuck you, Liam.

You're just like your mom. She makes everything about her,

even when it's Cory's mom's birthday.

- Fuck you, Shoresy. - Fuck you, Cory.

Your mom likes me like she likes her Caesars,

stiff and on Sunday morning.

Tie game with five minutes left and you call that?

What a fucking awful call.

Well, you get that whining from your mom, bud.

- Fuck you, Shoresy. - She made me put my whole arm

inside her then cried when I knocked over

the box of baking soda she keeps up there.

Fuck you, Shoresy. - Oh, I'm so mad

at your mom right now, Cor. She wanted to role-play

as a dog and master, but then killed the mood

when she dragged her butthole across the carpet.

Fuck you, Shoresy. - Fuck you, Liam.

Your mom's got me on a pineapple diet

so I taste better for her, but she's so fuckin' fat

that extra sugar might cost her a foot.

- Fuck you, Shoresy. - Fuck you, Cory.

Your mom shoots so much cum around my room,

I gotta put woodchips on the ground

like I've got fuckin' guinea pigs.

Fuck you!

Can I please play?

- I don't know, can you? - May I?

This isn't a grammar lesson, dude. I'm asking.

Asking if I can play?

- Yes. - Huh?

Yes, physically, can you play?

I can contribute.

I love that about you, man.

You're pointless your last ten games.

Playoff games. You can barely skate.

- I can skate. - I said barely.

- I'm sorry. - But you always

find a way to contribute. - I can still drag

the boys into the fight. - Doesn't your head hurt?

The lights are a bit bright in here, yeah.

Still can't push when you shit?

No, it's basically at the point

I only sit down if it's just gonna run right outta me.

- Dude. - It's a bit of a,

"smack the side of the ketchup bottle" situation.

I just take what I can get.

Why do you wanna keep doing this to yourself?

Because I love it.

So, please just let me play.

You know how that's gonna look.

- Just let me-- - They'll come for my head.

Just come on, just let me play.

Dude, you were out cold!

- Two shifts a period. - No.

- One shift a period. - No.

One shift, final offer.

We can talk about what happens next

after this game, but you are not playing this game.

- I'm so fuckin' mad at you. - I don't care.

- I'm so fuckin' mad at you. - I can live with that.

- What if we lose? - I can learn to live with that.

Then you don't love winning, Nat.

Has it occurred to you I care more about you

than I do about winning?

Nope.

Owner said there's no charge, but he'll take some

of that crab for his risotto.

- He can have some right now. - I'll let him know.

Then we can eat it together. I'll make us a rezo at the bar.

Pretty heavy pre-game meal.

Why won't you have dinner with me?

You're a slut.

- I'm a hockey player. - Same thing.

You've never thought about life beyond it?

- Nope. - You never thought about

life without it? - No.

Miig and Ziig said to meet them here.

- Focus. - Don't you have to interview

one of those Hunt guys? - You just went seven games with them.

I know everything I want to. - Fuckin' losers.

You never once thought about what you'll do

when you stop playing hockey?

Why not?

'Cause if I'm not a hockey player...

A slut.

I don't know.

- Okay, you're a hockey player. - Mm-hmm.

- Know who you are? - Yeah.

You're a guy who can't push when he shits.

And that's all she wrote.

Les Rapides de Rawdon keep their undefeated streak alive

and advance to the final, where they will play the winner

of the SOO Hunt and the Sudbury Blueberry Bulldogs.

Gord, I know you run a busy restaurant on PEI.

You on the first flight home tomorrow?

No, actually, we're gonna stay until it's all over.

Treat the players to a big Atlantic seafood supper.

Can't leave without showing a little Maritime hospitality.

Nice guys 'til the end. Thanks, Gord.

Thank you.

We clear? Okay.

Gord...

Let's grab a drink. - Ah, I can't tonight.

- Sure, you can. - I might be meeting somebody.

- Might? - Yeah.

Are you gay?

- You're an idiot. - I got a speeding ticket.

I didn't drive us off a cliff. - No, you're an idiot

if you don't go out with that guy.

- You're an idiot. - No, you're an idiot.

- Leave me alone, bro. - He's asked you out twice

and you still don't think he's interested?

He's just being a slut.

He's not asking you to get married.

He can have any girl he wants in Sudbury.

- He doesn't want me. - Do you want him?

Then what's the problem?

You're late. - Oh, fuck you, Shoresy.

You said be here between the second and the third,

then you weren't here. - So?

So, that's five, six minutes I could've had

my hand on Laura Mohr's leg. - Oh, my God.

Don't talk to me about being intimate with a woman.

I'll fucking puke.

Tough day at the barnyard then, eh, Ziig?

- Leave her alone, bro. - Eh, the big boys musclin' ya

outta the trough again? - She's not in the mood.

Oh, she's at peak twat, all right.

We're late 'cause she got a ticket.

You got a ticket? "You got a ticket?"

- From a guy? - No, a chicken.

- You're an idiot. - Told ya.

- You're an idiot. - And you didn't get out of it.

No. Is there a fuckin' secret handshake or something?

Hot girls don't get tickets.

- What? - Hot girls get

anything they want.

You think that cop's seen anyone hotter than you today?

Probably hasn't seen anyone hotter than you this month,

unless you were with Miig. - What?

But half the guys maybe even think

you're hotter than Miig. You're not like 50-50,

but like 40, 35.

Hey, you little fuckin' idiot. - Fuck you.

- Fuck you. - Fuck you.

- You think she's hot? - Oh, yeah.

Think she's hotter than her? Actually, don't answer that.

- Yeah. - All right, get the fuck outta here.

- Fuck you. - Fuck you!

- Fuck you. - Wanna know what you do

next time you're gonna get a ticket?

- Okay. - Huh?

Come here. I'm gonna be you down in the car.

You come up to me like you're a cop,

you're gonna give me a ticket, okay?

- Me? - No, fuckin' Santa Claus.

Come on over here like you're a cop,

you're gonna give me a ticket.

This is all you have to do.

Sorry.

What?

Sorry.

- What? - I'm saying fuckin' sorry.

That's all you have to say. Look at him like that,

and you won't get a fuckin' ticket.

Oh, my God. What an idiot.

Me? No. Well, yeah.

Make up your mind, Grandpa. Fuck you.

Fuck you. Fuck you.

Shoresy,

heard you're not playing tomorrow.

- Yeah? - Yeah.

So, maybe ya say, "Sorry to hear that"?

- Think you'll ever play again? - Not gonna then, eh?

Frankie's really fucking up for the only guy

who isn't hurt. - Frankie's got a mental

battle to win now.

You ever thought about life beyond hockey?

- No! - Never thought about it?

No, I'm a hockey player.

You've had two concussions in a month.

At your age. Know who you are?

Guy who can't push when he shits?

- I'm gonna grab a pop. - But you've been good

on the BROdude broadcast. - Oh, great.

That's all I've ever wanted to be!

- On the BROdude broadcast? - Good.

You've been really good.

Sometimes they run outta cream soda so...

If you're not playing tomorrow--

Really craving an Orange Crush.

- Come join me on the broadcast. - Oh, talk about the game

rather than playing it? I'd rather jam

a root beer mug up my ass.

- Couple interviews a period. - No!

- One interview a period. - No!

- One interview, final offer. - No!

Come on, let's shoot something.

♪ I remember when ♪

♪ when I first moved here ♪

♪ A long time ago ♪

♪ 'Cause I'd heard some song I used to hear back then ♪

♪ A long time ago ♪

♪ I remember when ♪

♪ even further back ♪

♪ In another town ♪

♪ 'Cause I saw something ♪

♪ written I used to say back then ♪

♪ Hard to comprehend ♪

♪ And the question is ♪

♪ was I more alive then than I am now ♪

♪ I happily have to disagree ♪

♪ I laugh more often now ♪

♪ I cry more often now ♪

♪ I am more me ♪

You look sharp. You're looking--

- Shut up. - Okay.

- Like shit. - Not actual shit.

I'm worried I'm making a mistake.

You're not. He's too hurt.

What happened to never let them know you're hurt?

My man's not capable of that anymore.

- Oh, he was so mad at me. - You can live with that.

What if we lose, huh?

You can learn to live with that.

Lookin' pretty sharp, Sanguinet.

It's just not as fun without your favorite player.

Nat, you're lookin' pretty shitty.

Fuck you, Shoresy. - How you feeling?

Well, my entire team's about to play

a hockey game and I'm not.

- Pretty good then? - Oh, real good.

- Been in the room yet? - No, but I'll be there.

You always find a way to contribute.

Gotta find a way to contribute.

Speaking of which,

I want you to do something for me.

I want you to read the line-up.

You're too banged up to play and I take full responsibility

for my role in that. I'm sorry, my guy.

But the team needs their leader.

The boys need to hear from you.

You do something for them that no one else can.

So, help me set the tone.

Read the line-up.

That's the stupidest idea I've ever heard in my life.

- Right. - That's soft.

- Okay. - Oh boy, I'm gone

for five minutes, you're already acting like a girl.

- All right, I get it. - You're emotional.

Like, Sanger, if I didn't know any better, I'd think

you were trying to give me a tuggy right now.

- No. - You're sure?

That's not what you're trying to do right now?

- No, it's... no. - No?

Like, if I didn't know any better,

I'd think you're maybe out there givin' a tuggy or two.

- Later. - Yeah, go change outta your skirt.

We got a hockey game to play. - All right,

I won't ask for any more favors. - My God!

Goody, you ready? Fuckin' right, Sanger.

Good 'cause you're goin'! Ya-hoo!

Dolo, you ready? Une fois, mon Sanger.

Good 'cause you're goin'! Ya-hoo!

Hitch, you ready? Yes, sir!

Good, 'cause you're fuckin' goin'!

Ya-hoo!

Marksman Michaels, are you ready?

Damn right, Sanger!

Good, 'cause you're fuckin' goin!

Ya-hoo!

Let's fuckin' go, boys!

Let's have a big one.

Let's have a big one, boys.

Let's have a big one! Everybody goin'.

Everybody goin'.

Shoresy.

All right, let's get this over with.

You're back in the Sudbury Arena

playing the SOO Hunt with the season on the line.

How's the scar tissue?

I don't know what that means.

- It was a bit confusing. - Mm-hmm.

Déjà vu?

Is that a question?

- Well, yeah. - Huh?

This is going great.

Yeah, you're doing really good.

How are the boys feeling going in?

We went seven games with these guys.

We know them well. We know their secrets.

And what are those?

Delaney's a coke head,

Palmer's a dumb fuck, and Schnurr's an old fart.

- So, you're confident. - Doesn't matter what I am.

I'm not playing.

Is JJ Frankie JJ a distraction?

Why, 'cause he's so big,

he's just always in your peripheral vision?

I mean his most recent scandal.

I don't care what Frankie does as long as he scores.

- He's not scoring. - Neither am I.

So, what does he have to do?

What does he have to do?

Well, he's the only one not playing hurt.

I'm really craving a ginger ale. I think.

- Oh. Oh, yeah. Thank you. - Yep.

- Thank you, Shoresy. - You bet.

- See what I mean? - Yeah. He's perfect.

Fuck's sake.

- Liam's not even 19 yet. - Shut up.

I basically am.

Yo, fuck off.

What the fuck are you doing?

Fuck's sake!

Hey. - Settle down.

- I said fuck off. - You ever been to a fuckin'

hockey game before?

They're beating you mentally.

They're fuckin' whooping us mentally, Cor.

The SOO celly so big.

Fuckin' clown show.

Suckin' the air out of your bench, though.

Someone's gotta snap 'em outta this.

Need some action.

Someone's gotta drag this team into the fight.

♪ I may not always love you ♪

♪ But as long as there are stars... ♪

Fuck!

♪ You'll never need to doubt it ♪

♪ I'll make you so sure... ♪

Wake the fuck up!

♪ God only knows what I'd be without you ♪

♪ God only knows what I'd be without you ♪

♪ God only knows what I'd be without you ♪

♪ God only knows what I'd be without you ♪

♪ God only knows what I'd be without you ♪

♪ God only knows what I'd be without you ♪

♪ God only knows what I'd be without you ♪

♪ God only knows what I'd be without you ♪