Original subtitles

(tires screeching)

"You Spin Me Round" by Dead or Alive)

- All right, Georgie?

- Hey!

- I'll head him off the other side.

- Hello ladies, are you all right?

Come on, Billy, come on!

(glass breaks)

- I'll take it from here.

(girls laughing)

- Ah, what are you doing?

(car horn beeps)

- Hey!

- Where have you been?

Come on, after him.

- A dead object?

No, not really, just resting.

Waiting for a signal from its master.

And suddenly, it's full of life

doing everything that Pele wants it to.

But even for Pele, there was a time when

the ball didn't always obey him.

It was only hours of lonely practice

as a boy that gave him this skill.

(guitar music)

Soccer is a game of kicks.

Kicks that come in all shapes and sizes.

- Pele's shooting, and scores. - Georgie!

- Something he has done...

(growling)

- Ah! Shame on ya, you scared me.

Get off it, give us the vid now.

- Like that is it.

This goes in a bin unless I get

some appreciation 'round here.

- You can't do that.

- Oh, why's that?

- Cause it belongs to dad.

- Right.

Tidy up and get changed, we've got to go.

(sad music)

- Oh, bugger!

Leave your blinking tie alone,

try and stay tidy just for once.

I told you today was supposed to be important.

The first day of the rest of your life, chuck.

And what do you need that blinkin football for?

- I told ya, I'm meeting Frankie and the lads later.

- Oh.

Quick, get in before you drown.

- I'm never getting in that.

- Will you stop with this blinking car nonsense?

Get in before I belt you one.

Go, have it your way then.

Me hair's gonna be ruined!

- Hey, look, it's Georgie.

(children laughing)

- It's set to be a wet, windy weekend.

- Right.

Marking his upcoming 75th birthday,

we pay tribute now to the arguably

the greatest football manager

of all time, Sir Matt Busby, or "The Boss",

as he's more affectionately known.

Sir Matt, who after the war in 1945, took over

a small bombed-out club by

the name of Manchester United.

Sir Matt was set firmly on course to build

United into the greatest team in Europe,

until that fateful day, the 6th of February 1958,

when a tragedy in Munich...

- Matt, Matt!

Wake up!

Matt, wake up!

Matt, come on, come on.

Wake up.

Matt, Matt, wake up!

- The tragedy in Munich shook

the very heart of Manchester.

- I was hoping to catch

the news before we go.

- No new news, just some rubbish about me.

- You'd have thought they'd be sick of you by now.

I am.

- Likewise, I'm sure.

(whistle blows)

- It's a bit weird here, mum, can we go now?

- No, give me the ball.

- The Lancashire Grammar School for Boys

is one of the best schools in the country

and is top of the Oxford and Cambridge

Scholarship League Tables.

Now we can provide your sons with

a passport for the future.

The school has several young musicians of the year,

and our marching band has won many prestigious awards.

Every first year student will blast, bash,

or blow every brass instrument until

we find the right one for them.

Brass is class.

(band playing "When the Saints Go Marching In")

- It's another world, isn't it?

Oh, come on.

Stop messing!

- Hello class, chemistry (Latin dialogue)

Cricket.

Thrash them boys, thrash them.

Right, onward.

- Hello.

- Matt, you old...

- What, don't tell me you're in Manchester?

- Well, don't sound so surprised.

I suppose you don't want Jean to know, either.

Racing starts at midday, we can be

there and back before she blinks.

- It's been forever.

Oh, don't tell me, hot tip, sure thing, eh Bob?

- Bob, here?

(glass shatters)

- Actually, you know we're just off to

the Sacred Hearts, an elderly relative of Jean's.

A funeral.

- I'll pick you up after.

Smash open your piggy bank.

- Oh, yes, that'll be right.

- Well, that's nice.

I'm not rescuing you from that track again,

those days are over.

No dogs and no betting, do you understand?

- And our motto, is (Latin), dare to be wise.

Dare to be wise, dare to be wise,

within your reach, all knowledge lies.

Count not the cost, nor fear the pain,

if great success you wish to gain.

Dare to be wise.

Now, does anybody have any questions?

- Is there any football at the school?

- Yes, there is football for those

too feeble to play rugger.

The fact remains that our school

needs pupils like George.

- What do you mean, pupils like our Georgie?

- Our school charter states that a certain number

of scholarships must be awarded

to the financially impecunious.

- You what?

- Our school is required to educate children

from low-income bracket families.

- You mean working-class kids.

- By another name, yes.

(crowd cheering)

- You playing in the cup?

- I was only looking.

- Just as well, cause we'd slaughter you.

Right boys?

- Yeah.

- We don't want your sort in this school.

(upbeat music)

- If George excels at his

entrance exam, his fees will be paid.

Now I suggest you find a tutor.

Here's my card.

I'd be delighted to help, if you so desired.

(chanting "fight")

- What on Earth is going on?

- Stop it, Georgie, come here!

- I'll deal with you four later.

Now get back to lessons, now!

(bell chimes)

- I'm never going to that school, ever.

- If your dad were around, he'd clip you one

for talking to me like that.

This is no good, Georgie.

When did you stop listening to me?

- When you lied to me.

- About what?

About what Georgie?

(airport intercom)

- Matt, wake up.

- Matt, Matt. - Matt, Matt.

Matt, what is it?

- Georgie, what are you doing now?

- I told you, I'm meeting Frankie

and the lads for footie practice.

- Well, wait, I'll drop ya.

- Nah, you're all right, mum.

(brakes squeaking)

(upbeat music)

- Hey!

- Go on, Matt, catch the little bugger.

- Matt, you trying to give Jean the slip?

- Oh, thank God you're here.

Turn the car around quick.

(tires screeching)

- Hey, we're just in time for the 12 o'clock.

- Forget the race, I was robbed a couple of

minutes ago by a kid, he's got my wallet.

- Oh, what's the problem, there's never any cash in it?

- Aye, well, it's a costly piece of

genuine imitation leather.

Now, hurry up, put your foot down.

- There he is!

- You've been robbed by a Brazilian.

- Where have you been?

Come on, after him.

- We've lost him.

- Let's take a look in there.

- I'm supposed to be at a funeral.

- Won't take a minute.

- That's a Man U Club, I can't go in there.

You're joking!

It's red, they'll be all over me like a rash.

- Just act natural.

Come on.

- What can I get you gentlemen?

- We're looking for a --

- A drink, yeah, a drink.

Two pints of Boddingtons, please.

I love this stuff, nectar.

- Do I know you?

- I don't usually drink around here.

- I'm sure you look familiar.

("Madness" by Baggie Trousers)

- Come on!

Come on, Frankie, come on, twins.

Come on.

Come on, Frankie.

(singing to music)

- Hey guys, look!

(boys shouting)

- Come on Georgie, what are you doing?

What's that?

- Guys, look at this.

I'm going to sign us up.

- Where are we going to find 11 of us?

- It's a seven a side, you wazzock.

- So, we only need one more player then.

- My sister is brilliant!

(laughing)

- Very funny.

- What about our kid?

- He's even smaller than you.

- Yeah, but I'm really good.

(laughing)

- Ah, Spence, come on.

- Oh, no wallet, sorry.

Your round, Bob.

- Ah, I've only got Lira.

- What did you order pints for?

- Because I like beer and you need a drink.

Look, forget about the kid.

- So where are we gonna to find the 21

quid to sign-up anyway?

- No problemo!

Oh no, there's no money.

- Nice one.

- I'll sort it.

- And a grown up.

- Why don't you shut it?

- But it says we need an adult.

Adult means grown up.

- I told you to shut it.

- I can ask my dad.

- No dads, never.

- What's wrong with asking our dads?

- Come on, let's practice.

- Look, could I pay for these tomorrow?

My wife, I've left, my wife's at the church, you see.

- Oh, so now we're God-fearing gentlemen.

Excuse me, that'll be £2.80!

- No dads, I'm the captain.

And I said I'll sort it.

- There he goes!

- Sorry, love, gotta go.

Ciao.

- The Junior Cup it starts in two weeks,

we've got to practice.

- What's the point in asking the question?

- I wanna know what...

- Let's turn the little thief in.

- You know how I used to to ask myself, "Why me?

"Why was I spared?"

The oldest and most useless.

It took me a wee while before I realized

I'd left a job unfinished.

- Georgie.

- Ah!

- No you don't, I've done enough running for one day.

- Get off me!

- What you doing, get off.

- You gonna call the police?

- That's the idea.

- Well go on then, I'm not scared.

- So, you're not scared, are you?

- What's he done wrong?

- Enough to get him locked up.

- We've got an important game to win.

- Oh, and what important game can a

bunch of scruff like you lot possibly have?

- The Junior Cup starts in two weeks.

- I won't call the police, if you

let me manage your team.

- You're crackers, granddad.

I'm the manager.

- That's the deal, or it's the Juvenile Court,

and that goes for the rest of you,

for aiding and abetting.

- You can't just make yourself manager.

- I can, it's called blackmail.

I've never blackmailed anybody for a job before,

but you can be the first.

- You know, Georgie, we do need a grown up manager.

It's in the rules.

Hey, mister, what we supposed to call you?

- Matt, that'll do fine.

- Well, go on then, give us our ball back.

- Well, go on, give me my wallet back.

- It's got no money in it, anyway.

(Bob laughs)

- That's beside the point.

Tomorrow, at two, that field, practice.

Be there, or it's the police.

- Why on Earth would you trust

the little thief to show up?

- Well, if I can't trust him, I can't coach him.

- Alright Spence?

- Hi Spence.

- Alright, see you all tomorrow at two, lads.

- Okay, see you.

- Hi mum.

Alright, Georgie.

Fish fingers, okay?

- Hiya Georgie.

- Here you go.

Take your coat off, love.

- I take it you caught him.

- Not exactly, we caught a whole team.

- Tea.

I'll pop and put the kettle on.

Tea is up!

A bit of Battenburg, Bob.

- Alright you, you got your story straight yet?

- Oh, Jean, if I turned them in,

it would spoil it for them.

- Right, I want to talk to you about school.

- You're not still going on about that grammar school?

- Listen, I had a word with your teacher at school

and she reckons that you're brainy enough

to pass the entrance exam.

You just need a couple of private lessons, that's all.

- You what?

- Yeah, you know, like with a specialist tutor.

Imagine, our Georgie, at Lancashire Grammar School.

It's gonna cost us right, but I'm gonna

put some of me wages aside each week.

Look, I've got the first two lessons here already.

And I'll be taking that into custody for a start.

- No way, mum!

- It's alright.

It's only five weeks until the entrance exam

and then you can play as much footie

as you like over the summer holidays.

- I have to play, I've got no choice.

- No choice, is it?

- You don't understand.

- Well then, enlighten me.

- We're in the Cup.

- Well you'll have to miss it.

- Dad would've let us play.

- Well he's not here, is he?

- Mr. Farker?

- F-A-R-Q-U-A-R. Dr. Farquar.

I will not hear it spoken with any other pronunciation.

Now, try this.

(rolling tongue) Brass is class.

- Brass is class.

- Oh my word, no, no, no.

Again.

- Brass is class.

Please, mister.

- Doctor.

- Mister doctor.

- Farquar.

- Dr. Farker.

- Farquar, quar, quar, quar!

Right, now, this will be a five week intensive course.

Our syllabus will be reading, writing, rithmetic.

Not dribbling.

- Please, can I do to the toilet, Dr. Farker, quar?

- Go.

- Ah, Matt, looking good.

Have a good day at the office.

- Don't laugh.

You're the Assistant Manager.

- Eh?

- Homework shouldn't take you more than

three hours if you concentrate.

I'll set you up at the university library.

And don't you have to give me something?

Right, shut the door when you leave.

(dog barking)

- Come on, Spence.

(bicycle bell dings)

(whistle blows)

- Alright, lads, let's get started.

So you probably all think you're the best player around, eh?

But do you know what it takes to win?

There's only one person here who does.

And that's me.

Any paperwork?

Glasses.

Oh, never mind, let's see.

Here we are, right.

Seven a side, 12 teams arranged

into four groups of three.

The group winners play the semi-finals.

Then you only have to win four games.

Simple, right.

Let's see what you're made of.

You three against you three.

(blows whistle)

("Pass the Dutchie" by Musical Youth)

- I knew it, they lied to you.

(blows whistle)

- Pass it.

- Bob, you're in goal.

- Me?

- We're a man short.

- (speaks foreign language)

What?

- One kick and one kick only.

The idea is to pass it along the line,

up the next line, up the field,

and then the forward chips it in.

- I'll give you a 1,000 to one

against winning this tournament.

Have you ever coached under 12's before?

- You know, I can't say I have.

- Alright.

- Stephen!

Come here, come here!

You'll be doing your old lady a favor

if you let me know where you're going next time.

Oh, it's you from the pub.

You owe me £2.80.

Out for a jog, are we?

- To tell the truth, I've spent most of my life

making other people run, and this, I got

out of mothballs for the sake of these lads.

- Sir Matt Busby?

I knew you looked familiar.

What are you doing here?

- Same old thing, training lads for life.

- Well, our Stephen's in good hands, he'll be thrilled.

- I would prefer it if you would, you know,

if the boys didn't know.

- Oh, okay.

("Mas Que Nada" by Sergio Mendes & Brasil '66)

- Very good, very good, nice work.

- Come on, love.

- Alright, lads, gather round.

Now, that's all for today, but next time,

I need seven of you's, do you understand?

Seven, one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, okay?

Away you go, have an early tea.

- See you.

- Bob, as we're free

for the rest of the day, what would

you say to a wee flutter?

- There's a dog in the four o'clock.

It's a sure thing.

- Oh yes, we shall see.

(laughing)

(crowd cheering)

- Come on!

Come on, number two.

Come on!

Come on, my son.

- Dead cert.

- I don't believe it, that was a dead cert.

- He who dares, loses.

- That was stupid.

- Game on, game on, game on!

- I'll just pop my shoes down there, Matt.

- I'll never forget Duncan Edwards as long as I live.

(baby crying)

- Duncan Edwards was maybe the greatest player

in England, if not the world.

Raw, natural, like Georgie.

There's a reason for that.

- I don't know why you set so much store by that kid.

The world is full of kids who'd give you less hassle.

- Aye, maybe.

- Why don't you tell him who you are?

- No, that would ruin it.

I'll earn his respect, but not that way.

- Did Matt sort any of

our football kicks out?

Well, did he?

No, that's because he's useless.

- Well that's perfectly charming, isn't it, Bob?

Where's the seventh player?

- I'm here. (bicycle bell dings)

- You?

Sorry, son, you're too wee.

Right, any other ideas?

Right, Stevie, go and fetch your sister.

- No!

- Oh, she's probably a damn sight

better than the rest of yous.

Now on your feet, we've got work to do.

- Where are we going?

- We're going back to basics.

Georgie Best, Bobby Charlton, Pele,

they were just like you.

They had two feet and one brain, just like you.

They were working class, they grew up playing

street football, just like you,

in places just like this.

In fact, Pele couldn't even afford a football.

He used a grapefruit. (whistle blows)

Dribble through the middle column, leave it, trap it.

Run to the end, touch it, run back, dribble back.

Right.

Now use every part of your foot.

Not just the inside, use the outside, as well.

Keep it close, keep it close.

Right now.

Good Sinead, good.

Very good, darlin', very good.

Good boys.

Keep it close.

Keep control of that grapefruit and do not puncture it,

because I want it for my breakfast.

Good boys, keep going.

I suppose you're too good for all this, huh?

- Nah, it's just that it's stupid.

- Why, oh, the grapefruit?

- Yeah.

- I don't suppose, no, that wouldn't work.

- Go on, tell us.

- Well, you know that thing you do when you dribble

and make the defender go the wrong way?

I don't suppose you could show the others, could you?

- Yeah, easy.

- Come on, Georgie!

(boys cheering)

- Oh, my breakfast (laughs).

- What's this?

- Uh-oh.

- Racing Times.

- I've just found out that my boy's nicked me savings.

- Bob said that dog was a sure thing.

- The dogs?

Are you all mad?

Right, that's it, no more football.

I can't trust you.

Get inside now!

- I take it you haven't signed the boy's mother up?

- Oh, be quiet.

- This was the biggest mass

picket in south Yorkshire since the strike began.

There were at least six thousand miners,

perhaps many more, and they stretched

back as far as the eye could see.

Facing them were seven hundred policemen

in full riot gear, with another five

hundred waiting close by.

(orchestra music)

(banging on ceiling)

- Sorry, sorry, mummy, sorry.

(dog barks)

Canine monstrosity.

- Shh!

Get, go!

(water running)

(mysterious music)

- Thanks.

Hello?

Yeah.

What's he done?

His mother's gonna kill him.

No, she's not around.

You can't keep him overnight, he's only little.

There's someone related, sort of.

I'll get him down there.

- What's going on?

- Georgie's been arrested.

- Oh.

- Your very good friends thought it best

not to trouble your mother.

- Well I can go now, right?

- This is serious, Georgie.

Stealing is wrong and there's nothing that can excuse it.

- I didn't know what to do.

The lads are counting on me.

- What do you mean?

- The footie tournament.

I needed the money to sign us up.

- Why didn't you ask me?

- You've never got any money, Bob said.

- I've never got any...

Never you mind what Bob says.

Stealing isn't the answer, Georgie, it never is.

- You won't tell anyone, will you?

- No, Georgie, this is just between ourselves.

As it happens, Dr. Farquar has decided

not to press any charges.

So here's the deal.

I'll take care of the tournament formalities and the kit

and all the rest of it, and you return

that money to Dr. Farquar with an apology.

If you do that, I'll see if I can get

your mum to let you play in the game.

Come on, let's go.

What are you waiting for, get in.

- No, sir, I think I'll walk.

- In this, don't be daft.

I'll not have my star man catching pneumonia here.

You're my responsibility, get in the car.

Look, whatever it is, do you mind telling

me in the car, out of the bloody rain?

- I hate cars, hate them!

- You're getting soaked.

Here, take the keys, get in.

I'll not drive off, I promise.

Good lad.

Come on, lad, what's this all about?

Come on, Georgie, what's wrong with cars?

- It's just that my dad died in a crash, in a car.

So I don't like 'em.

- It must've been rough on you and your mum.

- And my mum lied to me.

She said he'd gone away and then I found out at school.

(sad music)

That day, my dad set off in a car,

I never said bye to him.

- Sorry, Dr. Farquar.

- Wait for me inside, please.

- I'll see you at the game, Georgie.

I'd just like to thank you,

for trusting the lad with a second chance.

- Yes, well...

Second chance.

Where does that old football nut

get off telling me what to do?

A new understanding, time for some real hard work.

Multiple choice tests, seven to nine,

mathematics exercises 15 to 30.

Now I'm going to take it as a personal failure

if you do not pass your entrance exams, do you understand?

- I'll pick you up at tea time, alright?

Get your books out first.

What have you got in your hand?

Stop it.

- Stephen, you're number one, you're in goal.

Paul, you're number four.

- Number four.

- Thank you.

- Number six. (boys whistle)

That'll do, that'll do.

- See you later.

- Don't worry, Matt, I'm sure he'll show up.

- We've got a job to do.

I want you to go out there and really work for each other.

All you've learned in training has been for this moment.

Frankie, you're captain.

Paul... - Yeah?

- Your wee brother, he's playing.

Come on now, let's be having you.

Enjoy yourselves.

(instrumental music)

- When he first came to my house...

(whistle blows)

- Good lad, come here.

Get out there and show what you're made of.

- Ref!

(crowd clapping)

- Spencer!

(whistle blows)

Early bath.

- Did I do good?

- You did very good, very good indeed.

Right, back to business.

- Bloody hell, just pass the ball!

- Steve!

Pass him the ball!

- Stevie, what are you doing?

- What's going on?

- I don't understand.

- Well, that's rather unfortunate, what with

you being the manager and all.

(whistle blows)

- The library.

You didn't pass him the ball because he was in the library?

Are you all out of your minds?

- We thought he didn't care about us.

- Are we talking revenge?

Have you any idea how much Georgie's done for you all?

I'm wasting my time with you.

You're not a team, you don't deserve to be a team.

- Can we step out for a moment, dear?

- Right, what have I done this time?

- You've just shouted at children.

They're not Man United players.

- Are you telling me how to coach?

- Oh.

- You come here.

Now.

Right, I might be the last to know, but I'm nobody's fool.

Training lads for life, is that it?

Is that your motto?

What sort of message do you think you're giving my lad?

That stealing's alright?

Well I'll not stand for it!

Come on, get out.

(glass breaks)

Are you in on it, too?

Come on.

- I think you might want to work on that relationship.

- What's he done wrong, Mr. Matt?

- Georgie's got himself into a wee spot of bother,

trying to get you into this tournament.

That just shows how much he cares about you.

Now, I want you to go out and win this game

just to show how much you care about him.

- Come on, lads.

- Yeah, come on.

Let's go!

- Oh, and lads, sorry I shouted at you.

- Come on, lads.

(boys talking)

- I've brought you some milk.

Do you think silence will help you?

Have it your way then.

- Did we win?

- Yeah, one nil, it was amazing.

You should've been there.

- In.

- Miss Gallagher, please can Georgie play in the Cup?

- No, he's stopping in.

- But he's our best player, we'll never win without him.

- I said no.

You can clear off the lot of you.

Go on, get back in your room, you.

- Bob, I don't know why I bother.

I started thinking that every kid deserved a

shot at his dream; now I don't know.

- I'm sure we could persuade his mother to let him play.

(boys shouting)

(whistle blows)

(whistle blows)

- Lads, lads!

(shouting)

- Hey, lads, keep your shape.

- Here.

(shouting)

(cheering)

- Well done, Spencer!

(whistle blows)

Whoa, free kick.

(whistle blows)

- Georgie's here.

- Do you think I could take it?

- Go on, then.

- Good lad.

- Put his coat on here.

Well done, Spencer.

Here, what?

- Come on, Georgie.

(whistle blows)

- Miss it!

(whistle blows)

- Come on, lad.

- God, Georgie,

I thought you were meant to be good.

We're gonna win this.

This is gonna be easy work.

- Come on, boys, lads.

Come on, lads.

We're through to the semi-finals, that's the main thing.

- It should've gone in.

- Nothing serious Georgie, a draw's no disgrace.

Proves they were a good team.

Still go through at the semi's.

As for the free kick, well, you know there's only one way

to make sure it goes in the back of the net; belief.

You have to have belief.

- What's belief got to do with it?

- Just imagine a great player

standing right where we are now.

There's been a foul, a free kick.

The goalie yells for the wall to tighten up.

At last, the referee blows his whistle.

The striker runs towards the ball.

He hits it with the inside of his boot,

it arches towards the sky, sailing high over the wall.

The goalkeeper launches himself

off the line, it's a terrific dive.

But the ball rockets into the top right hand corner,

beyond the reach of even the greatest goalkeeper.

Now, in order to do that, he had to have belief.

Now it's your turn, what do you see?

- What do you mean?

- What do you see?

- Houses, trees, the net, the penalty spot, everything.

- Now.

What do you see?

The goal, focus on the goal.

On the top right hand corner, nothing else exists

except that top right hand corner; and with belief,

you'll make it go into the back of the net.

- What are you going on about?

- Georgie, talent isn't enough.

You have to have belief.

If you believe, you could score with your eyes shut.

Come on, I'll take you home.

(doorbell rings)

- Oh, hi, love.

- Why didn't you stay and watch him?

- It's already enough that I'm letting him play.

- I think he wanted to show you what he can do.

- Really, are you telling me how to raise my boy?

- Mrs. Gallagher, I wouldn't presume to do such a thing.

But if I may say this, my father never saw me play,

he was killed in WWI when I was six,

and there isn't a day goes by when I don't think about him.

- Right.

Well, it's getting late and the lad's got homework to do.

- Aye.

Goodnight.

- No, no, no, go on.

You've started, come on.

Give it to me.

- Alright, Erica, here it is.

Your son isn't a thief, he's a dreamer.

He took that money for the team.

You're blessed with a kid like Georgie.

He's got a fire in his heart.

- You know, he's not some pet project

like Georgie Best or something.

Helen, he's my son.

- And I know that whatever you do,

you'll not break his spirit.

(shouting)

- Come on, Georgie, come on.

Yes!

(cheering)

- Well done, love.

- Shoot!

We made it to Saturday's final.

- I knew we would.

- Yes!

(cheering)

- Ah, good afternoon, Mrs. Gallagher.

- How's it going, Dr. Farker?

- Well, one last push and we should be in

good shape for the exam on Saturday afternoon, hey George?

- What do you mean, Saturday?

The Cup Final's on Saturday afternoon.

You knew all along?

- No, but I didn't know you was gonna

make it through to the final, did I?

- You're a lying cow.

- No, Georgie, come back here!

- No, I'm telling Matt, he'll sort it.

- I'm your mum, he's not.

- You stopped being a proper mum after my dad died.

- I'm sorry Mrs. Gallagher.

Perhaps we're all wasting our time.

You can lead a horse to water, but...

- I'm not giving up on him.

- Look!

- Who's that?

- Don't you recognize him?

It's Matt.

It says here that he's the greatest manager of all time

and that he managed the Man U team,

but they all died in a plane crash.

- It's Sir Matt Busby.

- What?

- Man United.

- Yeah, look.

- Georgie's going to crap his pants when he finds out.

- Very funny.

(gentle music)

(loud turbulence)

- You see, lads, when the heavens

touch the Earth, anything can happen.

Look.

See that bloke with the ball, that's Tommy Taylor.

Brilliant, and look, that, see,

that's one of the greatest captains ever, Roger Burton.

And there, there, that's Duncan.

Duncan Edwards.

So young.

These lads were like you boys once.

They played for their town and country.

- I'll never be as great as them.

- Never?

Do you wanna be as great as them?

- Course I do.

- Well then that's your dream, laddie.

Listen to it, follow it.

All of you.

That's what they did.

But, sadly, they've been taken

from us, their dreams unfulfilled.

- What was he on about?

- You don't know?

Matt was a dead-famous United Manager.

He managed a team, but most of them died in a plane crash

except Matt, and now he's our manager

and it's his birthday on the day of the final.

- You know what, Frankie?

I couldn't care less, and I won't go,

even if he had the best birthday party in the world.

- Hey, Georgie, where are you going?

- Matt lied to me, all of you's lied to me.

- Georgie.

- Look, I know why you're here.

But I can't help you, even if I wanted to.

You have to keep a sense of perspective about this.

Now, with all due respect, to your wonderful

achievements, it's just a game, it's just football.

Goodnight, Sir Busby.

- I get the distinct feeling that you think

we're all half mad about football.

But you know, for the record, let me set you straight.

It's not just about football.

It's about dreams.

Did you never have dreams, Dr. Farquar?

- You're missing the point.

This isn't about me.

Georgie, himself, doesn't want to play in the final.

Ask him yourself.

Georgie!

- I don't care about football anymore,

and I don't care about you.

- Me?

What have I done?

- You never told me that you was

United Manager and you was in a crash.

You're just like the other grown ups, you lied to me.

- Georgie.

- I'd better go now and get ready for tomorrow's exam.

See ya.

♪ Good times for a change. ♪

♪ See the luck I've had can make a good man turn bad. ♪

♪ So please, please, please let me, let me, let me, ♪

♪ Let me get what I want, this time. ♪

♪ Haven't had a dream in a long time ♪

♪ See, the life I've had can make a good man bad. ♪

♪ So, for once in my life, let me get what I want. ♪

♪ Lord knows it would be the first time. ♪

♪ Lord knows it would be the first time. ♪

- Georgie.

What's it say?

- Go get 'em, lad.

We're all with you.

Matt and the team.

- It's nice, isn't it?

Alright, love.

I'll park the car and I'll be in in a minute.

- No, go and watch the match,

the lads need a lot of cheering. - Alright.

- Come on George, we don't want you to be late for the exam.

- Good luck, love!

- Firstly, thank you so much, Sir Matt,

for spending the time, really appreciate it.

- You're welcome. - I hear it's a special

day for a number of reasons.

Firstly, because it's your birthday today,

your 75th birthday, am I right? - Yeah.

- Well, congratulations,

hopefully it'll prove to be a good omen,

because it appears you have another final to contest.

Only this time, far from managing the mighty Manchester United,

you've elected to train a junior,

under 12's, seven a side team.

Now surely this is a far cry from the glory days

when you were coaching the likes of

Edwards, Charlton, Law, and Best?

- Take a look around you.

The community has come together to cheer on their kids.

Kids whose hearts and minds

and dreams are as big as the best.

They're the future of this town.

As far as I'm concerned, these are the glory days.

I've lived a fine 75 years and I only want for one thing;

that when I'm gone, the beautiful dream lives on,

as it did in the hearts of the Busby Babes.

- When the school clock chimes for two,

you may turn over the paper and begin.

You will have 110 minutes to complete the exam.

(clock chimes)

- Right, boys.

I've got bad news.

Georgie won't be playing with us this afternoon.

It's not the first time that fate has deprived a team

of its key player, but do you know something?

You're all key players.

Stevie, Harry, Barry, Paul, Frankie, Sinead.

Even you, Spence.

So I want you to go out there

and give those LGS boys a good whipping.

(cheering)

And boys, boys, boys, and girl, remember one thing.

Enjoy yourselves.

(crowd cheers)

- Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls,

welcome to the final of the Manchester Junior Cup.

(applause)

It's a terrific seven a side tournament.

Here come the teams.

First, in the blue, the defending

champions, Lancashire Grammar School.

(loud applause)

And on my left, the challengers, Kersal Reds.

(loud applause)

- Oh.

(band playing "When the Saints Go Marching In")

- Count not the cost or fear the pain,

if great success you wish to gain.

Dare to be wise.

- And as the teams take

to the field to warm up, where will the

slings and arrows of outrageous fortune take us?

For Manchester Grammar School, Scott Moskin, number three.

Captain number seven, Rafe Bailey

and Ron Shuttleworth in goal.

For the Kersal Reds...

- Come on!

- Steve O'Reilly in goal

with his sister, Sinead, on the wing.

Harry and Barry Batty in defense.

It's a family affair.

Paul and Spencer Dodd in midfield.

And last, but not least, Frankie Smith up front.

- Hi, love.

- Hiya.

- Shame Georgie can't be with them.

- Yeah, he's alright, though.

(whistle blows)

(cheering)

- Now the current champions foraging forwards.

This could be one nil.

Oh, no, they've missed it!

The Kersal Reds defense is parting like the Red Sea.

Oh, fantastic shot, but saved by goalkeeper Steve O'Reilly.

And out they come again, the LGS boys

bashing at the gates of the Red's goal.

Raif Bailey's drawn goal.

Yes, one nil, LGS!

(cheering)

(whistle blows)

(band plays "When the Saints Go Marching In")

And what's this?

It seems to be a brass band has

unexpectedly taken to the field.

- What the bloody hell is going on?

We've got a game in 45 minutes.

(arguing)

- Quite a nice tune, if you like that sort of thing.

Twins on tubas, oh, a funny short one at the back.

(shouting)

Oh well.

Well, while that's all going on,

we're going to have a cup of tea with the vicar.

- I can't hear, sorry!

- You can buy me a cup of coffee.

Hopefully, this might take longer than we think.

- Helen, come on.

- See you in a minute.

- Again, boys, again.

- Are you alright?

- Quite a unique teacher, your Farquar.

He really came through for the boy.

Bob, get the car stoked.

- No, no, no, I'll go, I've got my car.

- In that case, you'll be needing this.

- Oh, right, see you later.

- Don't look at me like that.

You're the one who's always going on about belief.

- One more time, one more time, just one more time.

(bell dings)

- Right, pens down.

- Is it over?

Come on, come on love.

- Please, madam!

- Sorry, sorry.

- Where are we going?

- Second half's been delayed.

We can still make it.

What?

- Matt lied to me.

You lied to me.

And now I'm never playing football again.

Just like you wanted.

- Just like I wanted?

Look, Georgie, I've not always had the best ideas,

but I've always wanted the best for you, love.

Look, it's not about what we want, Georgie.

It's about what you want, now.

What do you want, Georgie?

- Don't know.

- Yes you do.

Come on.

- I wanna win the Cup.

- Why?

- I wanna win it for dad, so he'll be proud of me.

- I love you.

I love you, come here.

Come on.

- Come on, come on.

- I can't keep up!

What are you doing?

(tires screech)

- The boys have been practicing for months.

Can we just do it one more time?

Please.

One more, one more, you've got it in you boys.

I know you have.

- Yes. - Oh, how many more times?

- The saints go marching in. - Please, just one more time.

- Come on, speed it up a bit.

- And then one more time and then we'll be off.

- I wish the saints would go marching out.

- We're running out of time.

- You should've seen their faces, it were dead funny.

Oh no.

- What is it, what is it?

- I don't believe this.

Bugger.

- What we gonna do now?

- Run!

Keep running, you can make it.

Keep running.

- I can't go without you.

(cheering)

Matt!

- Ref, hold it! - Hiya!

- Go on, Georgie!

(cheering)

- A substitution for the Kersal Reds.

Off comes Spencer Dodds, the tiniest fella on the pitch.

- Well done, Spencer.

I'll put in a word for you with United.

- No way, I'm gonna play for City.

- Bath.

- Come on, lads, let's win this for Matt, for his birthday.

(crowd clapping)

- Go on, Georgie, come on!

- Close him down!

Come on.

- My word, the blues,

tearing through the Reds' defense.

They have got another goal, it's two nil.

(cheering)

- Yes!

- Yes, two nil, surely LGS are

going to keep their hands on the trophy,

it could be all over for the Reds.

(shouting)

- Lads, calm.

Calm.

- Get in your positions, we need to be professionals.

(crowd chanting "LGS")

(whistle blows)

- Yes!

What a fantastic goal from the red captain.

Georgie Gallagher.

- Why aren't you defending?

(crowd chanting "Go Reds")

- Well played, boys.

- Come on, Georgie!

- Oh, what another fantastic save!

- Well done, Stevie.

(shouting)

- It's a goal, it's another goal.

It's two a piece and now game on.

- You boys are useless!

(shouting)

(crown chanting "Go Reds")

(screaming)

(whistle blows)

- Come on, Georgie.

- Come on.

(whistle blows)

- It's going to be a free kick,

with only seconds to go.

- Come on, Georgie!

- Shh, Bob, shh.

If you believe, you can score with your eyes shut.

(whistle blows)

Yes!

(cheering)

- That was way offside.

What was that free kick for?

- Yes!

(whistle blows)

(slow music)

- I wish his dad was here to see this.

- Go get him.

- Georgie.

- Come on!

- Yes!

- You lost sometimes at Manchester United.

- But most the time we won.

- You did lose, though.

- Well, that's life.

- Hey, listen.

A friend of mine's given me a tip for a horse.

It's supposed to be unbeatable.

- Bob.

- Come on, one last flutter for the road for old times' sake.

- Okay. - Okay.

- You know, Bob, you're a good egg.

- Ha, after all these years,

you finally acknowledge our friendship.

- Did I say that?

Can you lend a fiver to an old friend?

- Is that a trick question?

- So, where are we going?

- I've heard about a young lad with

tremendous talent who plays around here.

- Hi, Sir Matt.

- His name's David.

David, it begins with a B.

No, it's gone.

Oh, Spence knows him.

(hopeful music)