Original subtitles

You don't drink out of glasses when you're watching football. You swig out a

and bilge a lot. Well, those old -time fans have evolved a bit since the Bronze

Age. Have you got any glasses? Oh, God, I'm sorry, Felicity.

Glasses.

I'm sorry, but I've missed the team coach.

You couldn't give me a lift, could you?

It is by the margin.

The official BBC Association Football Cup final start in five

seconds from now.

Four, three, two, one.

Oh, hello, Sergeant.

No, not inconvenient at all.

A breakout?

How many hostages?

Have they managed to get a tail on him?

Well, tell Thompson to follow him, but keep his distance. No heroies. Just find

out where he's taken him.

Yes, yes, I'll be along.

How far is your place, then? It's just along here on the left.

I'm afraid it's a terrible mess.

I didn't know we were going to have a visitor.

OK, we'll just turn into Cremorne Road.

Definitely two hostages.

I love the build -up.

Best bit.

How long to go?

Two hours, 14 minutes and 37 seconds.

It's a full nine seconds since you last asked me.

Ah, time drags when you're nervous.

Well, you've got a lot to be nervous about, being a Birmingham City

Don't talk.

I mean, it's a long time since you lot were last in a cup battle.

You'll notice a lot of changes.

Here we go.

No laces on the ball.

Big lights that come on when it goes dark.

Here we go.

Crossbars, nets.

Tint of pig's blather anymore, you know. Here we go, here we go, here we go.

Your lot will probably pick up the ball and head off in a bunch with it towards

the nearest church steeple. Here we go.

You finished?

Ooh.

Your glass empty already?

Yeah,

yeah. Well, it should make an interesting game.

Little unknown club like Birmingham City taking on the mighty strutting

stormtroopers of the all -conquering Manchester United.

Sort of David versus Goliath.

Sort of Desert Orchid versus Muffin the Mule.

Sort of Bonnie Langford taking on Mike Tyson.

Should be an interesting game.

Dave. What?

What did you promise this morning?

I promised.

We promised that if we watched the match together, we wouldn't have any

pathetic, childish, infantile abuse about each other's teams.

Exactly. You started flicking quavers at me during the Brian Robson interview.

You were kneeling and kissing the television set.

I was only saying what... any impartial observer would say.

Simply pointed out that your team is going to be hopelessly outclassed,

humiliated, taken to sketchless, made a laugh in Stockholm, in a

billion homes around the world.

That's it. Go on.

Go on.

Let's see the ugly face of football.

Do you know it's that kind of thing that nearly killed the game?

One or two morons spoiling it for the rest of us.

You cannot stand to have a rational, sensible debate about football, can you?

You always resort to mindless violence.

Oh,

sorry.

Slipped.

Seen us.

We're going to have to sweat this one out.

This is him, sir.

Brian Edward Phillips.

Armed robbery, extortion, hijacking.

Most impressive.

He's not going to give up without a fight.

What's the procedure?

The first thing we've got to do is get those two old people out of the house.

We'll offer him a swap.

Two of our lads.

Let me turn for the hostages. Sir, if you're looking for volunteers, I'd like

offer myself.

That's good of you, son.

But I don't see any point risking the lives of perfectly good officers.

No, I think I know just the men for this job.

Ah, Briggs, Louis.

Sorry to fetch you out at such short notice.

Hope it isn't too inconvenient.

Inconvenient?

You can call it inconvenient, would you, Dave?

No, wouldn't call it that.

Oh, I wouldn't have done it if the situation wasn't very urgent.

Now we've got an armed escaped prisoner holding two hostages in that bungalow.

He's agreed to a swap.

I want to send two of our people in there in exchange for the old folks.

Good idea.

We're going to wire up our volunteers with radio mics and then they're going

go in and try to talk the gunman into giving himself up.

Yeah? Yeah, great. Yeah, yeah.

Good plan.

Well, that's that sorted out.

Let's get back. We don't hang around getting under your feet, sir.

The mics look like this.

Very nice.

Whatever will they think of next?

And they tape onto the chest like this.

Very clever.

Well, you seem to have it all worked out.

You lot should have him out in no time.

Well, no use hanging around any longer.

True. Time waits for no man, eh, Dave?

And before you go, I'd just like to say, gentlemen, I'm full of admiration for

both of you.

Thank you very much.

Thank you, sir.

Any time you want any advice, we're always here.

Problem shared is a problem halved.

Well, off you go.

And good luck.

Look, with our midfield, look, don't come into it.

By the way, sir, which pair of pillocks volunteered for a job like this on Cup

Farm?

Very tense moments now, just ten minutes or so away from kick -off as the Reds

of United and the Blues of Birmingham begin this long walk down the famous

Wembley Tunnel.

You can't help wondering what's going through their minds.

Perhaps a few nerves here and there creeping in as they hear the Wembley

for the first time.

One or two of the players indeed waving to friends in the crowd.

And for some of these players, you have to say that just a few months ago...

This was the very last thing they were expecting.

But like so many of us, they wouldn't miss this occasion for the world.

Now remember, if anyone so much as farts without my say -so, I'll take great

pleasure in putting a bullet through their brains.

I don't believe in taking human life.

But policemen are a different matter.

You understand what I'm saying?

He wants to make quite sure you're still alive, so speak.

Well, go on, say something.

Bastard.

Sneaky bastard.

Now, listen, I want a fast car and ten grand in cash within three hours.

Otherwise, they both get it.

OK?

Bastard.

Bastard, bastard, bastard.

What's the matter with you two? Don't you like my company?

What?

No, no, no. We love your company.

There's nowhere else we'd rather be, is there, Bob?

Well, then relax.

We've got three hours to kill.

And when we've killed three hours, we might even have two policemen to kill.

That was a joke, gentlemen.

So laugh.

It's a quarter to three.

Yeah.

You know what that means, don't you?

They're singing to him.

That's good.

That's very good.

A classic calming procedure.

I didn't know you were so well trained.

Three o 'clock.

There's less than three hours to go now, gentlemen.

So make the most of it, won't you?

Did you remember to set the video?

We're sitting here with three hours to live and you were worrying about the

video.

What are you two whispering about?

Nothing. Nothing.

Did you or didn't you?

I didn't shut the bloody video.

Funnily enough, when we left the flat, I didn't realise we were going to spend

the afternoon being held hostage by a homicidal maniac.

Video it, sir.

Video it.

Video it, sir. Video it. What's he trying to say?

Sounds like they want us to video it, sir. Video?

Of course he's talking about video surveillance.

Yeah, we've got a surveillance team ready to go in.

Get a camera round the back of the house right away.

I like Louis' style.

His life's at stake, and still he's thinking about procedure.

I'm going to check the back of the house.

Now, if either one of you as much as moves, you are dead.

I spy with my little eye something beginning with E.

To give in?

Yeah, yes.

Television.

Television?

Here, in front of me.

Can't see anything.

Look, it's right there. If it was on, I'd have a perfect view.

Hey, and there's the remote control.

We can't. We can.

We keep the sound down.

Typical Birmingham City passé.

No touch, no style.

Big boo every time.

Get on with it.

Now, just watch how I control this with my right

and then flick it up with my left.

And what are you going to press the buttons with, clever dick?

What's happening?

Hmm? What's happening?

Oh, it looks like one hell of a game.

Oh, what a nice try.

What nice try? Whose nice try?

Oh, it's a cracking bit of football.

Go on, take it all away, take it all away. Come on, now, cross.

Cross your fill.

Oh, brilliant.

Now, Robert.

Why is he coming back? Oh, God. Turn it off.

Turn it off.

Contact

them.

And you two are getting right up my nose.

And you won't like me when you're up my nose.

He wanted to watch the cup final.

I told him. I said... I said, Brian said, be quiet.

But, oh, no, he... Cup final?

Yeah.

Manchester United, Birmingham City.

David versus Goliath.

You mean today is FA Cup final day?

You mean you didn't know? I've been inside, haven't I?

Every Saturday afternoon for the past seven years, I've sat alone on a hard,

cold bench, staring at a bucket full of excrement.

That's a bit like being a Birmingham City supporter.

Manchester United and Birmingham, you say?

Yeah. Should be a good game.

Plenty of goals.

Yeah.

Wouldn't it be great if Man United got stuffed?

Oh, wouldn't it?

You could be a Birmingham supporter like me, and we could both be against Dave.

And we have remote controls now, Brian.

You don't even have to get out your chair to turn the sound up.

Yeah, yeah.

In it is here.

All you have to do is just press that button there.

What's

that

roaring sound?

I don't know.

It sounds like the TV.

If it is, we're getting somewhere.

They're obviously trying to relax him.

Those boys of yours are doing a damn fine job.

It's not a very good picture, is it?

No. It's an aerial.

Move it off the telly.

Come back a bit.

That's better. Yeah.

That's it. Go on.

That's great. That's great.

That's great.

What the hell

is going on?

And it's Birmingham City.

Birmingham City. United.

Cha -cha -cha. United.

Cha -cha -cha.

Cha -cha -cha.

He choked.

Very frightening.

Offside! He was never offside. He was a mile offside.

He was level.

A couple as he was level. He was a mile offside.

He was onside.

He was onside.

Get some specs, ref.

I think what it is, is some water put into the transmitter.

They must be sweating heavily.

Not surprising.

I must be getting very tense.

No! Yes!

Go on, Meister! Please, no!

Yes! Yes, yes!

Go on!

I could murder a can.

And me.

And me.

Well, we can't exactly nip out to the off -lighters, can we?

He's not thinking, are you?

What do you mean?

Well, it's obvious.

This is a hostage situation, right?

And in hostage situations, you can ask for anything you want.

Get on the blower to the bus.

Tell him it's 20 cans of lager or the pigs get blown away.

And I'll have some clivers.

Peanuts for me, actually.

Oh, and I'll have some Bombay mix.

Five packets of quavers and dry roasted nuts and three bags of crisps, mutt

cheese and onion.

We might not be able to get the lions right away.

What is that animal doing to them?

Half -time.

Nicely poised.

Oh, nicely poised. We're murdering you. Get out of it.

Actually, Brian, with it being half -time and all, I couldn't half do with a

quick Jeff Hurst.

A Jeff what?

A Jeff Hurst, a burst.

So, if you could just untie the ropes for a while.

You think I'm bloody stupid, don't you?

Oh, I just want... You're not going anywhere without me. If one goes, we all

I don't need to go, Brian.

I'm blessed with a very large bladder.

If I say you're going to go, you're going to go.

You know, all of a sudden, I don't want to go.

OK.

Now, don't want any funny tricks, all right?

We all go to the lavatory together.

And I want you to keep your hands on your heads at all times.

Well, I've never seen anything like that.

What?

How he missed from there, I do not know.

Well, it was a difficult angle.

You've got to remember the surface is a bit wet on the foot.

He's closing the curtains.

That's it. A bit more. A bit more.

A bit more.

That's great.

That's not so good.

He's trying to shut out reality.

This could be a critical moment.

I don't think I can take much more of this.

You're not singing anymore.

You're not singing anymore.

One nil, one nil, one nil, one nil.

Yeah.

Still all to blame for.

I want the armed response unit to get tooled up and be ready to go in on my

command.

I want a marksman up on the roof.

There are two brave coppers in there.

And by God, they're friends of mine.

If they die, a little bit of all of us die.

Mates, oppos, buddies.

They do anything for each other.

The least we can do is the same for them.

Just because he's losing, just because he's losing. We haven't lost yet. We

haven't lost yet.

Every time you have to resort to chucking things. Plenty of injury time.

clogged. Do you want somebody to spear out your trousers? Do you want somebody

to spear out your trousers? Just try it. Do you want somebody to spear out your

trousers? Do you want this? Do you want this? For God's sake, it's only a bloody

game. You could have had my hand on it.

You could have had my hand on it. You could have had my hand on it.

And Birmingham City have equalised in the

89th minute of normal time.

He shot them.

No, sir. I can still hear Louis.

He seems to be singing.

What's he singing?

Sounds like shit on the villa.

Shit on the villa, sir.

What is he trying to tell us?

Oh, my God.

Only minutes to go in what's been an overall enthralling contest, and the

tension really is growing now. You can cut the atmosphere here at Wembley with

knife.

Shoot!

Shoot! For God's sake, shoot!

I don't believe it.

He's actually challenging him to shoot him.

Brilliant. Ah, you missed, you tosser.

Okay, that does it.

We're going in.

And there's the final whistle. It's

all over.

One all after extra time. And that means that they'll have to do it all over

again on Wednesday evening.

Same place Wednesday, lads?