All language subtitles for Tommys.Honour.2016.

George Atwood, sir,
from "the times" of London.

I looked in at the shop.
They said I'd find you here.

There was another Atwood
at your newspaper.

Yes, my father.

And to his last breath
he told anyone who'd listen

about the "grand old man of
golf."

I see you're still
looking after the course.

Do you, uh,
do you ever get out to play?

Aye.

I can barely hit it
out my own shadow.

That's the modest old Tom
my father wrote about.

You are the founder
of the open championship.

Four-time winner
of the challenge belt.

Why, if not for you, what would
have become of the game of golf?

Listen.

I don't know what kind of article
you've come here to write...

But if it's about
the "grand old man of golf,"

- then you can think again.
- I'm sorry, I...

There's only one story
you'll get from me.

A story about a boy

who carried a cut down golf club
I made for him, everywhere.

A boy who thought he could beat
every golfer in Scotland.

A boy who slept
like a paving stone.

Tommy.

Tommy!

Up!

Far and sure, son.

Far and sure.

There's far for you.

Downward strike, son.
Sharp as you can.

Nice shot. Come on.

Tom Morris.
Master Greenkeeper.

That young lad of yours
is growing like a weed.

He'll make a fine caddy one day.

Thank you, sir.

I'd putt that.

Gambler's spirit.

Duly noted.

Good game, son.
Well played.

- Come now, Tom.
- You've got work to do.

Get the scorecards.

Come on, Lang Dan.

You'll be giving the captain a
lesson after these men come in.

Give me my club, Lang Dan.

Play away, sir.

Direction-wise...

Perfect drive, sir.

Jamie, if I can't read your writing, how
do you expect your schoolmaster to?

I can read it.

Tell us about the train that
goes under the ground, Tommy.

A wonder of the world it is,
Jackie.

10,000 men
dug a tunnel under London.

500 men lost their lives.

And down in this tunnel,

right under everyone's feet,

a thousand lanterns
light the way for a train

that goes as fast as a
cannonball!

- Come on!
- Ah!

Choo-choo!

Thomas Morris junior, put the
child down before you injure him.

You're to help your brother with his
schooling and set a Christian example.

You're not to be
gallivanting about.

Yes, mum.

Back to your lessons now.

There shall be
no fun in this house, children.

Lovely to see you
this fine day, Mrs. Morris.

It would be no fit sabbath
without your sermon to guide us.

Oh, your children are a
testament

to the standards you've set,
madam.

That was Beethoven.

I remember my first piano
lesson like it was yesterday.

I've also had singing lessons
since I was five years old.

Straight away, the teacher said
I had perfect pitch.

Do you know what that is, Tommy?

Perfect pitch?

That was a crap shot.

- You've already had your crap shot.
- Clearly you can have more...

And that was your last one
two shots ago.

- What took you so long?
- Oh, I was kidnapped.

Tortured with Beethoven and
cake.

Did you pray for us
in church today, Tommy?

Indeed I did not.
Two of you are past salvation.

Oh, here, speaking of sin.

Davie enjoyed
a fine romance last night.

- Aye, or so he claims.
- Hey, there's no claiming about it.

Her name was prudence.
Thankfully she had none.

A rut iron.

It's a good club for killing
snakes.

Found a better use for it.

Pick your coins up, boys,
they'll be mine presently.

- Yeah?
- Huh?

- Aye.
- I won that round, Jamie.

Not a chance, man.

Are you daft?

That's no rut iron shot.
You need a mashie.

Not anymore you don't.

- Whoa, wait, what did I just see?
- All right, it hit a rock.

- Penny says I can do it again.
- Yeah, all right, I'll take that wager.

Aye, so will I.

Right, what was that?

This can do more than just
pick balls out ruts, boys.

You bring the club down hard
on the back of the ball

and it'll spin like a top,
front to back.

I call it backspin.

Pay up.

Come on.

Her ladyship inquires as to
the hour of your return.

Day is over when the war is won.

Dad's at war
with the gorse bushes, Tommy.

Oh, aye.
And the dunes no doubt,

and the rain and the goats
and the rabbits.

- I fear I'm outnumbered.
- Yeah, dad, I was thinking...

You got a teeing ground
at the first hole, right?

Well, why don't we put one
next to every green?

The way you've got it now
we've got golfers out there

tearing our Greens up every day.

Eh, it's not a bad idea.

But who am I to fiddle
with a 500-year-old game?

There are 13 rules to golf.

The first one,
you must tee the ball...

Within a club length of the hole.
Even I know that.

- And rules written 100 years ago.
- Aye, and you'll not be changing them.

Leave the rules of golf
to the steering committee.

Men of the Morris persuasion,
good day to you.

Well, afternoon, captain.

Niblick's as good as new.

Ah, good, good.

Hmm.

I trust you'll be, uh, caddying for
me at the spring meeting, Tom?

It would be a pleasure,
sir, but, uh,

colonel Fairlie's already
arranged for my services.

Oh, I see.

Well, perhaps, young Tommy
could do the honors.

That's a very generous offer,
sir.

I don't know, sir.

Well, Tom...

I've been considering betting
on you for the match next week.

But your last outing
against Willie park...

You cost me 60 pounds.

Sorry, sir.

Well, it's not the money
I'm worried about.

It's, uh, it's my reputation...

My standing in the eyes of the
town.

Understand, sir.

And your putting, god knows,
it's worse than my own.

Perhaps you might like to let
your sons make the gutties

and you get out and practice.

Thank you, sir.

Practice.

That man is a captain in the club.
How could you insult him?

Why'd you let him
talk to you like that, dad?

Because he has every right to.

I work for him
and the other gentlemen.

Yeah, you do, but I don't.

A caddy's son you are
and a caddy you'll be.

- Yeah, we'll see.
- What else would you be doing?

Well, I'll be a golfer.

Aye, a golf professional?

Who gives lessons?
Who makes golf balls?

Who makes golf clubs?

Who caddies for gentlemen
and treats them with respect?

No, that's yourself
you're talking about, dad.

And have you thought about how
you're going to make a living, boy?

Twelve... 13...

The lad's ready.

Why is he not your
playing partner?

He's just 15, sir.

We've been betting on you
for years now, Tom.

And when you've won, we put a
pretty penny in your pocket.

And I'm grateful to you
and to the other gentlemen.

But in all fairness to us, Tom,

your performance has fallen off.

What you say, sir, is...

It's a hard reckoning.

And a fair one.

Look here,

your backers want to win,

you have debts,
your lad's ready.

In one stroke
you solve the problem.

I thank you for your
good counsel, Mr. Kinloch.

- If I may?
- Of course. You have work to do.

Tom?

A man's got to use every club he
has.

Twenty for the winner.

A Sterling debut, lad.

Two Thomas Morris'
are certainly better than one.

Thank you, sir.

Don't worry, Willie.

I'm sure the park brothers
will live to fight another day.

Beginner's luck I call it.

Your pup's still got his milk
teeth.

We can always go round again
if you thought it was luck.

I'll see you
in Musselburgh, laddie.

The capital of golf.

Aye, pride in one's town.
It's a fine thing, Willie.

It's a fine thing.
Come on, son.

So says the man
who's won his last open.

Here.

Five pounds?

- Is that all you're giving me?
- Be still. That's your share.

Now get in there, and don't be
telling your mother your winnings.

Give.

Did you see that?
Hole-in-one.

Come on! Whoo-hoo!

Just try your arms by your
side there, young Mr. Morris.

Best just hold it, then.

And hold still.

Well done, Tommy.

Congratulations. Well done.

Thank you.
Give me a drink.

Come on.

Congratulations are in order.

George Atwood
of "the times" of London.

London, really?
Nice to meet you, George.

No one's ever won
the open by such a margin.

David Strath finished second
12 strokes behind.

Truth is, I let my friend win.
I'm a nobleman at heart.

Oh, aye, but a commoner
on the links, too.

And what will you
play for now, Tommy?

Money, glory...

Fun.

It's been eight years,

since colonel Fairlie
and the Earl of Eglinton

asked me to organize
the first open championships.

The Prestwick club

donated a fine
Moroccan leather belt

as a trophy.

And we declared first champion

would hold that belt for one
year

before passing it on
to his successor.

We also declared
that should any man

win that belt three years in a
row,

that man would keep
that belt in perpetuity.

A bit of trickery, that was.

After all,
who could do such a thing?

Not you, Tom Morris. Two wins
in a row was your limit.

Aye, aye.
Aye it was, it was.

I am very, very proud to say

that the ultimate winner
of this prize,

of that belt...

Is my very own son,

Thomas Morris, junior.

Well... the game is
catching on in England.

We have a fine course
in Liverpool now.

In Devonshire,
westward ho has adopted

the St. Andrew standard
of 18 holes.

And Blackheath...

My home club...

Is prepared to take the lead.

We want to be the center

of golf in England.

Perhaps in all the empire.

- Will there be anything else, sir?
- Thank you, no.

Do you know that your serving port
to the champion golfer of Scotland?

Oh, just Scotland?

Aye, well, it's the only place with
golfers of any account, eh, major?

I hear they play
the game in England now,

Liverpool, Devonshire.

That'll be all, miss.

I'm prepared...

To offer you a position.

Position?

Tell me this, Tommy...

What's your future here?

Work in your father's shop?

And one day, rest his soul,

it's your shop.

My work, major,

is emptying the pockets of crack
golfers and their backers.

That's all.

- In Scotland?
- Yeah.

And for every pound here...

It'll be 100 pounds
backing you in England.

As the professional golfer
at Blackheath...

You will be a wealthy man.

Oh, Davie, Davie, watch it!

- Davie, come on. No, no, no.
- Aw, just...

How's your father
gonna manage without you?

He'll have to make
more putts that's for sure.

Who will be partnering him
in his money matches?

No, don't you be angling
for an opportunity.

Eh, I'm just saying.

I think I should make a steady
playing partner for old Tom.

Davie, come on.

Our boy's just about to go away
and conquer England here.

- He is.
- Mm-hmm.

He's going to England.

I can smell the alcohol from
here.

May have had a pint...

Or two.

And where will you be
keeping your belt?

What do you mean?

Did you accept
major Molesworth offer?

Did you seriously think
there would be golf business

in St. Andrews
that I wouldn't know about?

You had scallops and steak
for your luncheon.

And you didn't even finish your
plate.

They've got grand plans
at Blackheath, dad.

My father was a handloom Weaver.

There was nine of us
in two rooms.

I barely had a whisker in my face when
I was apprentice to a golf ball maker.

I worked 16 hours a day and
sent pennies home every month.

- I know this.
- My father...

He earned less money in a
year...

Than you and I
made in one match last week.

I'll be sending money home, dad,
just like you did.

- I will.
- You work for your father, Tommy.

Working for another man, that's
an altogether different matter.

What do you know of Molesworth?
Hmm?

What do you know of England?

I know it'll pay me
twice your salary.

You think of nothing but
yourself.

Dad...

I don't want to spend my days

on my knees teeing up

gentlemen who despise me

who-who think they're better
than me, can you not see that?

What do you think
you'll be doing at Blackheath?

Making my own way!

I would have lost
more than I would have won

without you as my playing
partner these last few years.

I could lose this house.

Your place is here.

Tom!

Tom, the Weaver's son.

Takes three putts
and our Willie takes one.

Tom, Tom the Weaver's son.

Takes three putts
and our Willie takes one.

Aye, you're in Musselburgh now,
old Tom.

No place to tarry
over a four-foot putt.

Park brothers, one up.

I'll give youse boys
a chance to double your bets.

'Cause we're giving Saint
Andrews a thrashing today.

Tommy Morris.

Go back to fife.

Hey, I saw that.

Put it back, you dog.

I'll play it where lays.

Why don't you hit it off
that one's forehead?

Now, now, Kirky.

We'll forgive them their
trespasses.

Here, dad.

Stand back.
Let the man play.

Bugger off,
champion golfer of shite.

He's trying to play a shot,
you idiot!

Tommy!

Two whiskies, please.

They're laughing at us.

What did you expect,
cheers wherever you go?

Musselburgh is Willie park's town.
How much?

- A tuppence, please, sir.
- Thank you.

Thanks.

This is unprecedented.

The St. Andrews gentlemen will
lose their wages if you concede.

Are you conceding the match?

There will be no match
if we're not in it, sir.

That's not for you to say,
Tom Morris.

Go on.

Come on!

This is no golf.

James, time for a pint?

Aye, all right.
That's ready to go.

Is this a Thomas Morris, Jr.
Original?

Oh, no, that's one of Jamie's.

These hands have far more
important work to do.

What like breaking noses
in Musselburgh?

Only a couple.
Dad walked away, though.

"This is no golf."

- Who took home the money?
- Well, not us.

For all I know, the gentlemen
feathered their beds with it.

So, what, you suggesting
I got the first pint?

For starters, aye.

You've got Mr. Campbell's
foursome in half an hour.

He expects you to bring
his new putter.

I will.

Does the Englishman's
offer still stand?

That's not the point.

The point is, I should've
just gone without a word.

Instead, I listened to my dad
again.

Why do I keep doing that?

Now I'm bound to just stay here
doing the same work as him

on the same
bloody patch of ground.

I'm a shackled, man.

See, when I have a son, right,

I'm not gonna tie him down and
tell him what to do all the time.

No, I'll let him choose his own
path.

You see, if he wants to be a
golfer, than he can be a golfer.

But if he wants to sail
to the orient,

then bon voyage.

Lift that pint without me.

Hi, Tommy.

What happened to you?

Golf's a lot rougher
than you think.

I don't think about golf at all.

You think about me?

Listen to Mr. champion of
Scotland.

Oh, no, just a Greenkeeper's son
stands before you.

Well, you're standing in my way.

So, um...

So, what time
do you finish your work?

How old are you, Tommy Morris?

How old do you think I am?

I'm 28 years old.

Best find yourself a school
girl.

Do you know what
I love most about golfing?

No, there are times
when you've no hope of a shot,

you've got no chance, it's
impossible, but you try it anyway.

You put everything
that you've got into that shot.

And then you just...

You just see where it goes.

Margaret's a lovely name.

Meg, they call me.

Can I walk you home,
Margaret-called-Meg?

Short walk that would be. I
live just above the restaurant.

Ah, Tommy.

Do us proud in Perth next week.

We're counting on a tidy profit.

We know you can't lose
as a single player.

No disrespect to your father.

It's good to hear
how much you do respect him.

Gentlemen.

So, gentlemen pay you
to play golf?

After a fashion, yeah.

They put the stakes up for a
match.

Hundreds of pounds, like.

And gentlemen in every town
back a golfer.

When I win...

My backers take the winnings,

and they pay me as they choose,
there's no say in it, really.

Hundreds of pounds?

Oh, yeah.

What's your fancy?

These chocolates have come
all the way from Belgium.

Of course you'd be talking up
the ones with the highest price.

We'll take a dozen.

Here you go, ma'am.

Sir.

Well, she sounds a fiery one.

No.

I'm in love, boys.

You're what?

I'm telling you...

I believe there's a cure for
that.

Come on.

Stop making shit up.

- All right?
- Aye.

Hello, Davie.

This way, lads,
I've what you're wanting.

One of you waits.

I run a respectable house.

No.

I would like to pay my respects,
please, Mrs.

Aye.

Why not?

Won't be long now.

Suit yourself.

Go on, girl.

You should be out there
with the rest of them.

Thank you, Mr. Riggs.

Not so fast.

Can I see that club?

Aye.
He's a clever one, my player.

These scratches, mate,

they pull the water away so the
ball does the slippy slide.

Well, you've got it won now,
Mr. Kidd.

I'll not catch you
unless you drown.

Ah, fortune was on my side
today.

No, you outplayed me, Tom.

Well played.

Ladies and gentlemen,

the winner of the 1873
open championship,

Mr. Tom Kidd.

Jamie, come on, get up.

Get the gloves.

You stick them on, right.

Right, outside, everyone.

- Okay?
- Yeah.

Right.

You're getting far too heavy
to carry, Jackie.

Happy Hogmanay.

Ready?

Run! I'll race you!

Fine work we did
on that chariot, dad.

No, I won't take credit for that, son.
It was all your idea.

Sorry I'm late.

It's all right.

Happy new year.

What will I win for sinking
this?

To the winner,
a fine plump goose.

A goose?

What's the prize for second
place?

Bottle of Whisky.

Oh, bugger.

There you go, son.

There we go,
there we go, there...

Right.
Oh, oh...

I... oh.

There you go, Kirky.

The dregs of my defeat.

A toast to the house of Morris.

It's my honor to caddy
for the finest Caddie master

the old game will ever see.

No man can fashion
a better golf club.

No other could have
tamed these links

and made our home course
the Jewel of Scotland.

And none but old Tom
can claim to be

the father of the greatest
golfer of them all,

Tommy Morris!

Tommy!

Shh, here they come.

Lizzie, I can't believe
you brought us here.

Meg needs to know
your darkest secrets, Tommy.

Tommy, how lovely.

Yes, a lovely spot for the girl
to come fetch her brother

- when father's going to tan his
hide.

Always the wicked one were you?

He'd sit by this tree
thinking no one would find him.

Aye, you know, your Tommy
was the only one of us

ever tried to climb
clean to the top.

Right little monkey he was.

Get off.
What is that?

What is that?
What is that?

What do you mean?
It's a monkey. It's a monkey.

Such bonny stitchwork.

I'm hopeless with a needle.

Ten thumbs.

I'll teach you lace-making.

- You made that?
- Aye.

A gentleman's wife
in Edinburgh gave me work.

Has Tommy told you about the plot
he's hatched for the money matches?

If there's plotting afoot, I'm
in.

Why are we giving all the
riches to the rich, Davie?

It makes no sense.

The rich have riches.

It's nothing to do with us.

Yeah, but it does if they're
betting on you and me.

Perhaps this can wait.

Some matters are best left...
Unannounced.

I'm starving.
Is there any more food?

Here take that.

Do you want some?

The post is here, sir.

Good.

And Thomas Morris
to see you, sir.

Which one?

Thomas junior.

He state his business?

All he would say is

"the rights of man."

- Very well. Send him in.
- Sir.

Never seen a man
play chess alone before.

My opponent is a Cambridge don.

He's a brilliant tactician.

We play by mail, you see.

With this morning's post,

he lost a pawn.

And he's about to lose another.

What brings you to see me,
young man?

I wanna discuss the stakes
for the match tomorrow.

Oh, I might have guessed.

A young man's fancy
turns to thoughts of love...

And money.

We've always been
very generous with you, Tommy.

More so than with your father,

as a matter of fact.

But then you've always been...

More valuable to us
in some ways.

My view of my value
differs from yours, captain.

You see, Davie and I
are the ones playing the match.

So we should be the ones
collecting on the stakes.

Well, don't be ridiculous.

It's time for a new arrangement,
sir.

An arrangement?

You are not my business partner.

You have your role,
and we reward you for it.

Just as we do
with your father and the rest.

If you want me
to play in the match tomorrow,

then the money comes to me
before we begin, all of it.

I'll take my fair share and
I'll give the rest back to you.

Otherwise you can find yourself
another player.

Your station in life was set

before you were born,
young Morris.

Now, you've done well for
yourself, I'll Grant you that.

But never think

that putting on a gentleman's
suit makes you a gentleman.

You come to my home

with these outrageous demands.

In your father's time that would
have earned you a lashing.

Be grateful. You prosper
thanks to men like me.

The sheer nerve of the man.

Next he'll expect to be
a member of the club.

Greenkeeper's son
acting as our equal.

God forbid
I should live to see it.

Right, you're certain are you?

- Yes.
- Right, then.

Why don't you just
wait right here?

Yeah.

- Yeah, that would make more sense.
- Right.

Tommy.

Thomas!
Thomas.

- Thomas Morris!
- Tommy.

Tommy, you know
I can't let you in here.

Just pretend
you never saw me, Bertie.

You must leave at once!

Right you are, sir.
Due at the tee any minute now.

Gentlemen, 'tis a grand day
for golf, is it not?

This is too much!

The clubhouse is for members,
Tommy, as you well know!

Well, I'll not be long, captain.

You will leave now.

Give you a good show, gents.

Davie Strath plays a
stymie like an old woman.

Golf champion Tommy Morris.

He'd have blocked my ball, too,
if he could.

No, you're all right, Tommy,
you can pick that up.

- Such a gentleman.
- I know.

I'm sorry,
you want me to take this?

Of course.

The hole is halved.

Davie Strath is two up.

Say your prayers, young Tommy.

My man's lying two.
He's got you beat.

I wish that fool
would shut his yap.

If all the fools fell silent,
this would be a very quiet town.

Brilliant!

And that's the gentleman's
fair share.

Fine thank you
from Davie and I, gents.

He bested me today, but I think
we gave you a good show.

You're a hero,
Tommy Morris, to this town.

But a gentleman...
You'll never be.

Aye, well, times change,
captain.

Times change.

Which one, which one, which one?

- That one, please.
- Okay.

Tommy Morris?

Congratulations. I saw you play.
You were spectacular out there.

Thanks very much.
Thank you, thank you.

- Did you come up last week?
- Yeah...

I just wanted to say good luck.

Well, thank you very much.
Thanks.

You shouldn't be wasting
your winnings on fancy dresses.

What should I waste it on, then?

Cake.

Good idea.

- Oh, sorry.
- Sorry.

Milady.

Old Mrs. Fraser
wouldn't recognize me now.

Oh, the lady that you worked
for.

Aye, lace-making.

She slapped me once
for wearing a ribbon in my hair.

If she saw you now,
she'd kill you outright.

Why are you doing
all this for me, Tommy?

What do you mean?
Because I want to.

Because we're having fun,
aren't we?

That can lead to trouble
for a woman.

You're not like
any woman I've ever met.

You're only 22.

I'm 23.

Ah, well.

What do you think
of love, Margaret?

Uh, I...

Don't put much store by it.

We're here.

Address the ball, Tommy.

Hold still, please.

So will you be talking to Willie
park for your article, Mr. Atwood?

In fact I'm not.

Not Willie, not Tom Kidd,

nor the other leading
professionals.

No one in London cares a whit for
any golfer not named Thomas Morris.

As well they shouldn't.

And is it the old ancient history
of golf that they're after?

Which case you should
probably speak to my father.

And my story's about
the founding father

and son of the modern game.

That makes a grander tale than
either father and son alone.

Let me ask you, Tom.

Do you believe your son
inherited his talents from you,

or did you teach him
all he knows of golf?

I've taught him
everything he knows.

- But not everything that I
know.

Hold still.

It's a mother's right
to know these things.

Surely you understand.

Tommy, you can't beat him.

He shoots it a mile.

Be still, Jamie.
I'll have him beat yet.

It's not always about length.

Sometimes it's accuracy.

Here, I'll double our side bet.

Gambling with a wild man.

Aye, double it.

Mum. Dad.

Tommy gave me his winnings.

It's no great honor
beating Robin hood, Jamie.

Here, dad.

A golf quiver.

Jamie, leave us.

Go see what your sister's
wanting.

And most of that money will go
into the collection on Sunday.

On your way.

Aye, father.

Of course we'd make ours bigger

for more clubs, like, but...

Caddies would love you for it,
dad.

What do you think?

Your mother's been
to Whitburn, Tommy.

What's this about?

That woman you're squiring
for the whole town to see.

Do you know the first thing
about her Tommy?

- Besides what you're wanting from her?
- Nancy.

A Fornacatrix!

This drinnen woman
parading around!

Named and shamed
in her own church!

I don't listen
to church gossip, mum.

'Tis not gossip.

Your Margaret drinnen,

the scullery maid
you've pinned your heart to...

Her minister showed me the
ledger.

She had a bastard child
five years ago.

All Whitburn knows what she is!

You'll not see that woman again.

- Meg?
- Tommy?

Tommy.

I don't care.

Are you scared, Tommy?
I'd be scared.

Not a whit, Jackie boy.

Not a whit. Come on.

They're a family of princes.

Without the king and queen, I
see.

"Give ear to my words,
O lord, consider my meditation.

Harken unto the voice of my cry
for unto thee I will pray.

My voice shalt thou hear
in the morning.

O lord, in the morning will I
direct my prayer unto thee,

and will look up."

For luck.

Oh, you're all the luck I need.

Dearly beloved,

we're gathered here
in the sight of god

to join this man and woman
in holy matrimony.

Marriage is ordained for the
procreation of children...

To be brought up in the fear
and nurture of the lord.

Will thou have this woman
as thy wife?

Will thy love,
honor and keep her

in sickness and in health

forsaking all others,
so long as you both shall live?

I will.

And, Margaret,

wilt thou have this man
as thy husband?

Will thy love, honor,
and keep him

in sickness and in health

forsaking all others
so long as you both shall live?

I will.

I now pronounce you
husband and wife.

You may kiss the bride.

Tommy!

The last train
leaves Carnoustie at seven.

- Lizzie will be here to look in
on you.

I'm lucky to see her an hour a day
now that she has her new friend.

And that woman.

She's our daughter-in-law.

Tommy loves her, Nancy.
So must we.

I'll not sell my home
to a mere golf player.

I understand, Mr. Urquhart.

But, you know,
he's not a "mere golf player."

His name is known
from London to Calcutta.

Aye.

'Tis the name of the head of
the caddies at the golf course.

'Tis the name of a golf shop.

- You are speaking of his father.
- One and the same.

I understand.

Have you not heard me, man?

This may be worthy of your
attention.

We'll put a putting green
on the rise over there.

It's good to keep the golfer
looking toward heaven.

A bunker here
for the over-ambitious.

Wise men like yourselves will
make a prudent shot to here,

then it's one,
two shots to the hole.

- You got that, son?
- Aye.

Okay.

And does young Tommy Morris

design golf courses?

Tommy's no interest
in designing courses, sir.

He's only interested
in conquering them.

Gentlemen and ladies
on such a convivial afternoon.

Mr. Reginald white will represent
Blackheath in this contest.

And representing St. Andrews,
the champion golfer of Scotland,

Tom Morris, junior.

I never saw so many bonny
Lasses.

How long can we stay in London?

Oh, not long. I'll have
this boy beat in no time.

All the best, sir, aye.

My lady Margaret.

She knows we're to start at half
eight.

Aye, well, we've got all night.

Hmm?

And then we can have our night.

Don't paw at me, Tommy.

I'll not have my appearance
ruined as well.

Well... here we go.

Hello.
Come in, come in, come in.

Happy Hogmanay.

Go straight through,
go straight through.

- Happy Hogmanay, Tommy.
- You, too. I know.

All right, boys.
Happy Hogmanay.

Go on.

- Straight through.
- Happy Hogmanay.

Good to see you.

Happy Hogmanay.

Look at this house.

- Happy Hogmanay, son.
- Thank you for coming, dad.

Nancy sends her best.

This weather's awful hard on
her.

She'll not be dining with us
this evening, I'm afraid.

I'm sorry to hear it.

Do you know I left St. Andrews
after you spoke to my mum?

No?

Well, I did.

I give up my job.

A good job it was.

I had no place to go.
I went back to Whitburn.

Your Tommy came looking for me.

Young men look for things.

I'm not a thing!

I'm your son's wife.

I'm Mrs. Thomas Morris
just as you are,

and I'll thank you
to remember it.

I was his mother
before you were his wife.

Yes! You brought him
into this world!

Hallelujah! You raised...

You have no right
to speak to me like this!

I have the same rights as any
wife.

But none of a mother!

It was a girl.

Did they tell you?

My child...

There was very little life in
her.

She lasted three short weeks.

And many a day
I wish her fate was my own.

Tommy chose me.

Do you understand?

You might think otherwise,
plenty do.

I know what people think of me.

I'll not be running off again.

I don't know why you load yourself with
that much gravy and then not eat it.

I find that very wasteful.

It's a lovely holiday you've
made.

Thank you.

We'll have many more.

Yes...

We will.

Davie and I have been thinking.

We stage our own matches.

That way we can
play any course, in any town.

And if they haven't a pair of
crack golfers to play against us,

we play singles,
me versus Tommy.

- Just like we did for the gentlemen.
- Aye, exactly.

So let's just say
we start at Prestwick.

We take their money.

Aye, obviously.

And then off we go on tour.

Perth, Musselburgh,
north Berwick.

In a month, we've made our way
as far down as Newcastle,

Hoylake, even Blackheath.

Then we just come back off our
tour with pockets full of pounds.

Buccaneers with golf sticks.

- I'll drink to that.
- Aye, to the buccaneers.

- To the buccaneers.
- Buccaneers.

"Golf-o-mania"
they're calling it.

At Blackheath, they even held
a tournament for lady golfers.

Don't their bosoms get in the
way?

Well, judging by their scores,
perhaps they do.

I should like to meet
the one who came in last.

Well, perhaps she might need
a new Caddie, Davie.

Yeah, perhaps she does.

Have you heard
major Molesworth's latest claim?

He's declared that he and his
son can beat any two men

willing to take them on.

This man's mad.

Um, there's a method to his
madness, or so it seems.

He's set on making Blackheath a
show place to rival St. Andrews.

George, did you really come
all the way from London

just to talk about this
Englishman?

Not at all.

I came to talk with the two
golfers I hear cannot be beat.

That's more like it.

What are you knitting there?

Secret-keeper.

How far gone are ya?

About three months, I reckon.

- Who else knows?
- Only Tommy.

Now you.

You think your mum
will like me better now?

Come on.
Come on, Davie, come on!

Come on.

Come on!

Plain country minister...

Stands humbly before you.

A minister who knows the role

he is to play in god's world.

And I ask... do you?

Acceptance of one's destiny.

Humility before god and man.

Did not our lord

renounce all possessions
seeking only to follow the path

his father set before him?

Not for him

to grasp at worldly advancement.

Yet some among us do grasp.

Some think to rise above their
station.

Seeking glory.

Seeking status.

I'll not listen to this.

Come, Meg.

Worldly desires
cannot change the plans

our lord has for us!

It's the north Berwick town
council that's invited us.

Put up 1,000 pounds.

The town council? But they don't
have a player in the match.

No.

But they reckon people
are gonna come from all over,

you know, holiday-makers

just to watch
the great Tommy Morris

and capable Davie Strath beat
the tar out the park brothers.

You're joking?

Yeah, Archie Croyle threw me out
last night, he did.

And you know
I'm his best customer, so...

Well, the cross keys pub's
no place for a respectable man.

Look...

Doctor says it's broke.

- I won't lift a club for a month.
- Oh, Davie.

Davie, they're never gonna
put the match off.

Well, they'll have to,
won't they?

Sally.

Come, David.

Yeah.

He hasn't won a money match
in a dog's age.

I'd be better off
playing with Jamie.

You did right, my love.

The way he putts, though, you'd
think he'd had his eyes closed.

He's so proud
to be your father, Tommy.

Being there with you.

How many more chances is he gonna
have to be your golf partner?

Don't wanna leave you, though.

Don't be daft.

Lizzie will be here fussing over me.
The girl practically lives here.

Go with your dad.

And win.

If you say so.

Your mother is
a very clever woman.

So I suggest
you stay here as well.

"Grand match in north Berwick."

"All eyes turn to the links for
the upcoming match between Willie

and Mungo park of Musselburgh

- and the Morrises of St.
Andrews."

"Unprecedented sums
ride upon the outcome.

The park brothers are...

Favored to prevail"?

- What?
- What a load of shite.

Don't worry, dad.

Just give those putts a good
spanking and we'll be all right.

Now each side
is to play a single ball

alternating shots.

Park brothers have the honor.

Play away, gentlemen.

Come on, Willie.

Come on, Willie.

Go, Tommy.

Come on, Tommy.

Straight in the hole, Mungo.

Don't worry, brother.

We know who's holding their
putter.

It's our day, dad!
Come on!

Morrises are one up.

Here it is.

We can do it in two, son.
Just get it near the green.

No, I can get it from here, dad.

Give me the chipper.

Sure you got your line
right there, old Tom?

Looks a wee bit off to me.

Here, stop this!
Stop this!

Stop this at once!

Play is suspended
until order can be restored!

Stop it!
Do you hear me?!

Stop it right now.
Andy?

- Yes, sir?
- Get a rope right away.

- We'll rope them in.
- Yes, sir.

Now, that's enough of that.

Thomas Morris?

Thomas Morris?

Aye, son.

Telegram, sir.

Excuse me, sir.
I got the rope, sir.

Oh, that's my man.
That's exactly what I'm after.

Golfers!

Follow me!

Tommy.

Well done, Mungo!

- Yes!
- Park brothers one up.

The match is all-square

with one hole to play.

Come on!

I hereby declare...

That the Morrises of St. Andrews

have beaten the parks of
Musselburgh

by one hole at the last.

When's the next train back to St. Andrews?
I have to get back now.

The next train's at four o'clock.
You'd be better off taking the boat.

It'll take hours off your journey.
I'll get Lewis to take you.

- Lewis!
- Aye.

Would you take young Tommy
and Tom up to St. Andrews?

- He has to get back.
- Aye, the boat's ready to go.

Come on. Thank you.

Tom Morris,
I have your winnings here, sir.

- Thank you.
- Many congratulations

on your victory today.

Cold water.

Lift your leg.

That's a girl.

That's it.

Why did you not give it to me?

We only had
three holes left to play.

But it was sent to me, not you.

You have no business
keeping it from me.

I didn't want to
burden you with it.

Dad, I'm not a child anymore.

Can you not see that?
I'm a married man now.

You can't just keep
making decisions for me.

I don't need you
to do that anymore.

We had to finish the match.

No, we didn't.

No we didn't, dad. No.

There is no shame to forfeit
if you can't play on.

Did you not tell me that?

Is that not one of
the many golden rules

that you drummed into me
since I was a boy?

- We were winning.
- Nah.

No you were having a good game, dad, and
you don't have many of them anymore.

Golf is your god, dad,
it's not mine.

I shall need towels
and ice water.

You'll need to keep
her temperature down.

Shh.

- He'll be here soon, lass.
- Where is he?

I've never known
Tommy Morris to be late.

He's coming soon.

We sent him a telegram.
He'll be on the next train.

Can you get Tommy for me?

Please, get Tommy.

That's a good lass.

Is he here?

Ladies, you must leave the room.

Now.

Lizzie, we must do as he asks.

Tommy?

Tommy!

Tommy!

Margaret?

Margaret?!

It was a boy, Tommy.

Your Margaret
put up a Valiant effort.

God rest her soul,

and the child's.

Margaret.

Margaret.

Margaret. Margaret. Margaret.

Margaret.

No, Margaret.

Come on!

Lie!

Lie down!

Lie down!

You out for a walk?

Just what you need
to build up your strength.

So they say.

Have you heard the noise
the Englishman's making?

Aye.
Old Molesworth's at it again.

He's putting his son up against
all the best professionals.

He makes sure he gets
plenty of strokes going in.

Willie park
spotted him four shots

and then Willie lost.

Molesworth's handicapping that
boy like a pony in a race.

Now he's issued
an official challenge.

It's in all the newspapers.

They've got the crackpot idea
the laddie can beat you, Tommy.

If young Arthur here

was to play the illustrious Tommy
Morris on his home links, no less,

well... in all fairness...

Four strokes...
Not be sufficient.

Now, major, as I'm sure
you can understand,

there are other
elements to consider.

Circumstances that can
affect a man's abilities.

Arthur here took
four strokes off Willie park.

Look what happened to him.

Ah, yes, but...

Let's not
forget we're discussing

a plucky amateur in competition
with

a four-time open champion.

A spectacle.

It will be a match
to remember for years to come.

Will you play, Tommy?

We'd all go out to see you win.

Thank you
for your thoughts, miss.

- Sir.
- That'll be all.

Women.

- I'll play.
- Ha! A toast.

Tommy! Come on,
you're late, man. Come on.

Tommy!

Tommy, wake up, lad.

Can't see him.

- Davie.
- What?

Tommy, come on.

Tommy, come on, lad.
Up you get.

Come on. Help get him up.
Come on.

Up you get, Tommy.
Come on.

Come on, lad.

- Up you go.
- Tommy.

Come on.

Eh, Tommy, Tommy, Tommy.

Tommy!
Tommy, Tommy.

There you go.

Tommy, there you are, boy.

Where's my clubs?

All right.

- Get that down you.
- No, I'm fine, Davie.

- Yeah, go on.
- No, I'm fine.

- Are you all right, Tommy?
- Aye.

Yeah?

Good morning.

This is the last day
of our contest.

Mr. Arthur Molesworth
leads by one hole

with these 18 left to play.

Mr. Molesworth has the honor.
Play away.

He swings like a Lassie.

I tried talking to that
fancy britches Caddie of his.

Looked at me like
I was a red Indian.

What's he carrying ten clubs for?
No man needs more than seven.

Davie, how's our boy fairing?

We're one up.

Oh, one up.

Here.

Course is unplayable.

Match is suspended
until conditions improve.

You're in my way.

Look, Tommy,
maybe your dad's right.

Let's just go inside
and sit by the fire, eh?

Wouldn't be like you
to stop a match now, would it?

Take heed, all.

If a player retires from the
course,

he forfeits the match.

I'm the keeper of these links.

And I say the weather wins.
Play is suspended.

The wager stands.

Molesworth one up.

Here, son.

Son.

This will warm your hands.

Thank you.

Oh, no, no.
Not now, not now.

Tommy.

Tommy.

Tommy.

It's all right, Tommy.
Come on, Tommy.

Not too late
for a side bet, Charles.

Oh, you're the bold man now,
are you?

- Now the ride has turned.
- Oh, come on, be a sport.

There's nothing better than
all-square on the last hole.

Winning is better.

I would suggest, uh...

Stymie him.

Come on.

Coward.

Did you see the look
on the English goose, Tommy?

You plucked him good.

Aye, that last shot
could be your best one ever.

By the best golfer ever.

Tommy, major Molesworth's
come to see you.

I must apologize for the hour.

I've brought a gift
for the champion.

Thank you.

Was...

A match for the ages.

A brave victory.

For your next winter battle.

I'll show you out, sir.

- Don't touch it. It's Tommy's.
- I'm not hurting it.

It's late.
You two, bed.

You surprised us
with your final shot today, son.

A rut iron on the putting green.

You'll have every golfer
in Scotland trying it,

destroying my Greens.

Maybe we'll...

Make a new iron club.

A for the green.

With a flat bottom so you...

Lift the ball
without tearing the turf.

Dad.

I'm here, son.

I forgive you, dad.

They say
he died of a broken heart.

I leave that kind of talk to those
with a fanciful turn of mind.

Poets. Fortune tellers.
Your like.

I'm the last one, Mr. Atwood.

You see how strong he is?

Could hit the ball
further than anybody.

No mean feat given the cudgels
we made back then.

It's a handsome memorial.

And an honor to you as well.

Hmm...

The truth is he
was better than I.

He was better than all of us.