All language subtitles for the-calcium-kid_english-34048

Dave, if I swivel round to the camera,
do you think it'd make a dynamic intro?

- Very dynamic, Sebastian.
- OK, let's run camera.

- Camera's running, Sebastian.
- And swivel.

Hello. My name's Sebastian Gore-Brown.

I used to be
a sports documentary film director.

Lawn Bowls: The Real Story.

That was mine. Now, about a year ago
when I first heard that Pete Wright,

the notorious bad boy of British boxing,
was finally getting his chance

to fight devastating world champion
Jose Mendez for the middleweight title,

I sensed a documentary opportunity
too good to pass up.

But my faithful cameraman, Dave,
and I got more than we expected.

A lot more.

On September 28 Jose Mendez
will defend his world championship belt.

I was born to fight.

Against the number one undefeated
British contender: Pete Wright.

And he will do this in London, England.

The greatest fighter on the planet
is coming down to South East London

to fight Pete Wright,
one of our very own.

I've waited a very long time.
He's been dodging me for years.

Why you taking this fight
to his own backyard?

I thought it would be nice
to try fish and chips.

I'd fight him in a phone box
if I had to.

Without fighting, I'm nothing.

You could take away my wealth, my fame.
You can never take away these hands.

God put his power into these hands.

In return, I will give him the world.

Do I think I can beat him?
I'm gonna fuckin' bury him.

Now ask me a sensible question,
for fuck's sake!

I'm coming, Inglaterra. I'm coming!

Stand aside. The Thriller In Manila.

Shut up! The Rumble In The Jungle.

Herbie Bush Promotions brings you...

The Melee On The Tele.

How long have you been
involved in the sport of pugilism?

I'm sorry. There must be some kind
of mistake. I'm in the boxing game.

I've always been an avid fight fan.

But I've only been directly involved in
the game of pugisis for about 18 months.

How many pros
have you got in your stable?

Pros? No, no, no.

That is a bona fide personal-escort
service for business functions only.

My girls work on a strictly
"chat and smile but no touch bum" basis.

No, sorry.
I actually meant pro fighters.

Yeah, well,
Pete Wright only at the moment.

Quality control is the order of the day.

The first boxing competition
Pete entered he won.

He was only eight at the time,

and he was small for his age.

That didn't make
a blind bit of difference.

He gave them other kids
a real going-over.

And I remember I was quite surprised
at how vicious Pete was.

- Intense.
- Yes, maybe intense is a better word.

All right, Pete.
10 seconds left. Step it up.

- Next.
- In you get, son.

Next.

Pete, let him come to you.
Work on your defences.

Don't knock 'em all out before lunch,
for fuck's sake.

Liven yourself up. Get your hands up.

Where did you get this skinny prat?

Oh, shit. I'm sorry, mate.
I'm really sorry.

Oh! Oh!

My hand!

My fuckin' hand!

How bad is it? He'll be able to fight?

That's one of the worst breaks
I've ever seen.

That kid's head must be
as hard as a sock of snooker balls.

You're gonna have to cancel the fight.

Has your cheese slid off its cracker?
I can't cancel the fight!

I'm sorry, but a break like that's gonna
take three months before it heals.

Three months?
I don't bloody believe this!

Do you know what this means?

This means I'm finished. I'm washed-up.

I'm a laughing stock. An also-ran...

This is all your fault.
Who the hell are you?

- I'm Jimmy Connelly, Mr Bush.
- And what idiot hired you?

I wasn't hired. I train here.
They needed extra sparring partners.

- I didn't mean it. I'm really sorry.
- I'm really sorry. I'm sorry.

- Leonard!
- Yes, guv?

Do something painful with this toerag.

- Like what, guv?
- What d'you mean, like what?

That's meant to be your department!

If Artie Cohen finds out
about Pete's injury,

he'll replace him with another contender
and I'll be up shit creek.

We need to find a middleweight
that's a free agent.

We gotta find him today!

I don't care how good he is. He's gotta
be a body with fists and a heartbeat.

We put him in the ring on Saturday.

I'll fight Mendez.
I can still work a bit of the old magic.

Shut up. Serious suggestions,
please, Leonard!

You're a featherweight.

- Guvnor.
- What?

- How about that kid that hurt Pete?
- Him?

He's got two hopes.
Bob Hope and no hope.

- What was his name?
- I'll look it up in the files.

Oh, no. Shit. Shit!

You said this was fly-on-the-wall,
not spy-in-the-cupboard.

Investigative journalism
knows no boundaries.

I wouldn't be doing my job
if I didn't surprise you occasionally.

One word of warning, if you intend to
use this peekaboo style around the gym.

If surprised, a boxer's natural instinct
is to knock you into next week.

Sorry. Point taken, Mr Bush. Thanks.

By the way, it's Connelly,
the name you were looking for there.

It's Jimmy Connelly.

- Jimmy Connelly, eh?
- Yeah.

Right. We'd best
give this Connelly a visit.

Leonard, the car.

The true test for the documentarian
is to take any unforeseen circumstances

or dramatic twist of events
and roll with the punches.

I haven't even had my first fight yet.
I'm a milkman.

To expose to celluloid the story of
the lives that unfold in front of him.

Jose Mendez versus
Jimmy "The Calcium Kid" Connelly.

So that's what I did. I rolled.

I think I'm in, Mr Bush.

I think I'm in.

Say my name.

Yeah, baby, yeah. Yeah.

Jimmy?

Morning.

We'll be filming you 24 hours a day
in the run-up to the fight.

Of course. The fight.
Who would have thought it?

Jimmy Connelly fighting Jose Mendez
for the championship belt.

So, tell us, how does
Jimmy Connelly start his day?

Um...

Well, as you probably noticed,

I normally start off in the morning
with a set of 50 sit-ups. Yeah, sit-ups.

...49, 50.

I wasn't meant to have my first fight
for another six weeks.

And here I am talking to you guys.

I feel like Rocky

when he finds out he's gonna
have a pop at Apollo Creed.

Yeah.

Make sure your mum gets that,
will you, mate?

My mum's a massage therapist.
She works from home.

I've drunk three pints of milk a day
for as long as I can remember.

I've never had a filling
or been knocked out.

My bones are as hard as rock.

Very proud of Jimmy. He's been
a wonderful employee for four years now.

He's got an impeccable work record.

And he's been voted
Milkman Of The Month

14 times by the housewives of Lambeth.

Good morning, Jimmy.

One of these days you'll have to come in
and whip me up an omelette.

I mightjust do that, Mrs Fletcher.
Have a lovely day.

I'm helping people in the community

stay strong and healthy
by drinking milk.

Eventually, I wanna be
a regional manager.

My first week on the float
I got a bit of a kicking

by kids who made off with a dozen eggs
and two pints of semi-skimmed.

My mate Stan was boxing as part
of an aggression-management course,

so I went down to check it out.

I got into boxing
and being down the gym from the off.

Morning, Vera. Two pints today?

No, I'll have two pints today,
please, petal.

First time I put my gloves on
and walked out into the gym,

everything just sort of felt all right,
like I was part of something,

a big family
that nobody could mess with.

My old man once said:

"Without family, man is alone."

He's deep, my dad.

I never thought I'd wanna leave
my milk round early.

- Hello, boys.
- Morning.

Hello, Jimmy.
How are we feeling today?

Blindin'. 100%, thanks, Mr Bush.

That's good. That's what we wanna hear,
champ, eh? Champ.

Ow! Christ!

Come to my office. I've got something
that might help with those reflexes.

- Paddy, wake up.
- Crack him with a Mary Anne!

Knock the bugger bandy, Seamus!

Oh, Mr Bush. How are you, boss?

Peachy. This is Jimmy Connelly.

Jimmy, this is Paddy O'Flanaghan.

I've spared no expense
in hiring him as your personal trainer.

He's a legend in the field.

That's brilliant. It's a pleasure
to meet you, Mr O'Flanaghan.

Well, you've got strong hands,
that's for sure.

But do you have the stomach for it, kid?

I've trained some of the most
wondrous pugs in the ring

over the past half-century.

Men with punches
that'd move mountains.

But if you haven't got it
in the breadbasket,

it doesn't mean a damn thing.

Now, tell me, kid, have you got it
in the breadbasket or not?

- I guess so.
- I knew it.

I saw it in you the minute
you came in through that door.

If you could just remind me of your name
again, lad, we can get started.

It's Jimmy Connelly, Mr Flanaghan.

All right, then, Johnny.
Let's get to work.

Have you had a long-standing
relationship with Mr Bush?

No, not at all.

I was in the boozer last night
having a pint, or two or three.

And I overheard Mr Bush
talking to a pal of his

about needing a boxing trainer.

So I imposed myself, like,
and we got to talking,

and the next thing you know,
I'm in gainful employment.

I've often found on me travels
that fate plays a very big hand

in all things connected
to the boxing ring.

Got a spare fag, mate?

Thank you.

I met Jimbo back when
we was little kids, wannit?

His old man and mine
were drinking partners.

They'd fanny to our mums
they were taking us to the park,

but they'd sneak into the pub
and stick us underneath the table.

We played marbles, they got pissed.

We went to school with each other
for a while, but I got expelled.

For stabbing the gym teacher
with an HB pencil.

The nonce tried to have a fiddle
with me nuts in the showers.

He plays up all nice
to the camera, don't he?

I don't, though. I don't care.

Come on!

It's incredible, really.
Jimmy boy fighting Jose Mendez.

When he told me,
I thought it was a windup.

They should let me fight him.
I'd do a Tyson, bite his ear off.

I'd have it for tea with some
baked beans and nice cup of rosie.

- Girls, show us your pink bits.
- Sod off!

Eh?

Rotters.

Anyway, Jimmy,
out of the goodness of my heart,

I've decided to help you
in your quest for glory

and become your official motivator.

- Motivator?
- Motivator, Jimbo. Motivator.

Ali had a motivator.
Sugar Ray had a motivator.

So why shouldn't The Calcium Kid?

Listen to this.
I was working on this earlier.

Float like a boat
Sting like a flea

Nut him on the chin
And he'll fall in three.

That sort of thing. It's all right,
innit? Don't worry about a thing, pal.

With me in control of your psychological
preparation, Mendez will get his.

And if he doesn't, we'll catch up to him
and give it to him South London style.

Eh-eh!

- Dave, are you OK?
- You all right?

You all right, mate? He's sparko, mate.

Technical knockout.
Round one. Ding-ding.

Don't be a mug
Act like a thug

Throw a big right
And it'll be good night.

Oi, Stan. You have to pay
for those doughnuts.

Course I will, Jimbo.
You know I'm good for it.

Get them knees up, Johnny!

There's fuck all wrong with that,
is there, lads, eh?

Cut camera, Dave. Dave.

It was the fight they all wanted to get.

But it was actually Herbie Bush
that actually get up and go'd

and actually landed the gig.

That's why... Not there, you nana.
I'm ready when you are.

This promotion is really gonna put

Herbie Bush Management
right up there, you know.

Sipping Singapore slings
with all the heavyweight promoters.

It's the fight they all wanted to get.

But it was actually me,
at Herbie Bush Management,

that actually get up and go'd
and landed the gig.

Don't you think being Pete
Wright's manager helped in any way?

Afternoon nibbles. No crusts
on your sarnies, the way you like it.

And I've put a slice of lemon in your
tea, like they do on the "continente".

On the "continente".

Artie and his people are not aware

of Pete Wright's injury and the change
of opponent at this present time.

They fly in tomorrow,
and I always feel it's best

to kind of do these things
face to face, you know,

once I'm sure
they're actually in the country.

You know what [BLEEP] Yanks can be.

Maybe you can put a bleep
over the pricks bit.

Jose Mendez
is a unique combination

of God and minister.

Inside the ring, he is Olympian.
All powerful.

Gloriously crushing his foes

with one sweep of his almighty hand.

Outside the ring,

his heart, grace and generosity
are overwhelmingly humane.

He is the chosen one
for many of his generation,

and he embraces
this responsibility completely.

I once said to Jose:
"To win the championship belt

is to win the adoration,
love and respect

from people all over the world."

Five years later,
that belt hangs around his waist.

Now, you tell me... was I wrong?

Meanwhile,
back at Bush's Boxers,

Jimmy was stepping up his training

under the expert supervision of Paddy.

Make mine a pint, Johnny.

And get us some of them
pork scratchings while you're at it.

Jimmy, we're going to the airport.

Jose Mendez arrives in a few hours
and it's time to tell the world

about Jimmy "The Calcium Kid" Connelly.

The Calcium Kid?

Do me a fucking favour.

- All right, Pete?
- Yes, Jimmy. I'm golden, thanks.

Apart from the fact
that a fucking milkman

is fighting in my place
for the championship of the world.

All right. There's no need to get upset.
I was only asking.

No need to get upset?
No need to get upset?

- I'll show you upset!
- All right, son. Easy!

I know how you must feel, Pete, but...

I really appreciate you doing this, son.

It's important that we let
Jose's camp and the press know

about your injured hand
as soon as possible,

so we can all move on, yeah?

Piss off, Bush! I'm only coming
cos I wanna see Jose face to face,

and tell him when he knocks the lid off
the milkman and my hand heals up,

Pete Wright will fight him
anywhere, any time!

That's a fair comment, son.

You can piss off an' all, you fucking...

This is bollocks. If Mendez was on that
flight, there'd be press everywhere.

- They're undercover.
- My arse.

As soon as Jose walks through,
they'll come swarming out the woodwork.

What Herbie didn't know was
they were at the wrong terminal.

It's the oldest trick in the book,
delaying the VIP disembark.

They're trying to throw the foxes
off the scent.

But we know better.

They must have called earlier
about the terminal.

Any chance
of picking it up a little, pal?

Come on, Dave. Keep up.

What do you mean, move? I set
this whole thing up, you stupid cow!

I'm responsible.
Jimmy, get on the floor.

- All right.
- Get down. I'll get on your shoulders.

Get up.

Get up.

You couldn't organise a bunk up
in a fucking brothel, Bush!

- Artie! Artie!
- Get after him, Dave.

This is absolutely typical!

Artie! Artie!

Twat!

It looks like the Yanks
wanna play sneaky.

Two can play at that game. Tomorrow I'm
calling my own little press conference.

My dad gave me
some good advice once:

"Speak if you have something to say."
I always thought that was clever.

He never thought I'd talk to the press.

Jimmy, the guvnor's downstairs.
He'd like a word in your ear.

Right, before we go up there,
a couple of things.

When the press find out you're
replacing Pete, they'll go mental.

I want you to go out there
and be yourself, champ.

And if you feel
a little bit overwhelmed,

Herbie Bush will be there
to lend a hand.

I've had extensive experience with these
kind of characters, so... fear not.

We need to get the people behind
Jimmy "The Calcium Kid" Connelly.

And we need the press
to help us do that.

Now, I have been meticulously planning
various publicity stunts

over the next few days that's gonna
make you a household name, champ.

Holdhouse name. Right you are, Mr Bush.

Jimmy, here, put this on.
Wear it loud, wear it proud.

But calcium is spelt with a C,
not a K, Mr Bush.

It's very important to be original
in this game, Jimmy.

You've got to keep
your opponent guessing.

Calcium C, Kalcium K. C, K.
He's flummoxed.

Thank you, ladies and gentlemen,
for coming here today.

- Where's Jose Mendez?
- We wanna see Mendez.

As I was saying,
we have an announcement to make.

Pete, if you would, please.

Due to a broken hand,
I will be unable to fight Jose Mendez.

- How bad is the injury?
- How did it happen?

- I was sparring with a skinny prat...
- Now to my special announcement.

Thank you, Pete.
Fighting in Pete's place

is the best-kept secret
in British boxing.

Let me introduce to you the next
Middleweight Champion of the World,

Jimmy Connelly!

Come on, Jimmy. Get up here.

Champion? Fuck off. He's the milkman.

- A fucking nothing.
- Pete...

Shut up, fatty. I don't wanna hear it!

Jimmy Connelly.

Hello.

- It's...
- Speak up.

...The Calcium Kid, not the milkman.

Jimmy. Jimmy.

- Are you actually a milkman?
- Yes, I'm actually a milkman.

If you live in my catchment area,
I'd be happy to visit you on my round.

Jimmy, what's your record?

He's undefeated. Next question.

- What's your training regime?
- I've been doing a lot of sit-ups.

Jimmy, do you really think that you
stand a chance against Jose Mendez?

Get a shot of him.

Well, my dad once said,

"There's normally a winner
in a two-horse race."

Obviously neither me or Jose are horses,

but I think the moral of the story
is anything can happen.

I believe that.

Jimmy Connelly.

That's enough.

It's all about the rhythm in boxing.

From the small time
I've spent with Johnny,

I can see he's got more
in his little finger

than that Mickey O'Jackson fella
has in his whole body.

It's great to be finally back
in the training game.

I feel like I've drunk a pint
from the fountain of youth.

So, Paddy, I hear you've had a few
run-ins with the Boxing Board of Control

about the well-being
of a couple of your fighters.

Let me see, now.

I lost Steve "The Undertaker" Jones
to heat exhaustion,

followed two days later

by the unfortunate passing
of whatshisname O'Reilly

to a blood clot
on the intelligent side of his brain.

See that? Back page of the Standard
is worth its weight in gold.

- This is a huge result.
- It's great, Herbie.

Guvnor, guvnor. Artie Cohen's here.

- Artie Cohen? Here? To see me?
- Yes.

Jesus Christ!

Artie Cohen was Jose's
manager and big-time fight promoter,

a connected New Yorker
whose rap sheet and reputation

suggested he didn't suffer fools gladly.

You held a press conference
without my approval!

This I find objectionable.

And at this press conference
you announced... that a milkman

is gonna fight the great Jose Mendez
for the championship belt.

You was in transit, yeah,

when the situation
with Pete Wright's hand arose.

I felt I had no choice
but to act on our behalf.

I would do nothing,
nothing to harm our relationship.

The only relationships I have, Mr Bush,

are with my fighters and my wife.

So unless you can throw
11 jabs in three seconds

or enjoy eating strawberries
from between my toes,

you stand little chance
of qualifying as either.

- OK.
- However...

in spite of this, what shall
we call this, this massive screw-up...

Cock-up.

...I am a man of honour.

I've decided to proceed
with this farcical engagement.

Jose Mendez came to England to fight

and fight is what he will do.

Your milkman better
know his way around a ring.

Yeah, well,
obviously he's a bitjet lagged.

Blade, man.

You're amazing.

OK. Is my hair OK? It's fine?

You have to see the chain.

OK. Can you get that a little bit up?
Thank you.

Being the best...

No, being the greatest
pound-for-pound fighter in the world,

and the chosen one for many of our
generation is something that I can...

Shit! Fuck!

Family values...

I believe in family values, education

and abstaining from excess.

- Honey, it's just a little hot, OK?
- What is this? Turn the camera off.

- There's no scheduled interview.
- They said they were with you.

- Is there a problem, Mr Cohen?
- A problem?

Well, my definition of a problem
is a trivial annoyance

overcome with quickness of thought.

This is a situation.

And what exactly is your definition
of a situation?

Two limey fuck filmmakers

hanging from their skinny pricks
over an eighth-floor balcony

for shooting unauthorised footage
of an Artie Cohen fighter!

This, this is my definition
of a situation!

- Careful. This is expensive.
- Motherfucker!

Hello, Jimmy boy. You all right, mate?

- Get the drinks in, Jim.
- The man of the hour.

What can I get you, Jimmy boy?

- Three pints of lager and a lemonade.
- We're all behind you, you know that?

And I hope you knock ten tons of shit
out of that wop bastard.

- He's actually Mexican American, Barry.
- They're all the fucking same.

There you are. Whisky's on the house.

Thanks, but I shouldn't be drinking,
what with the training,

so I think I'll just stick
to the lemonade.

I see. Now that you're a fucking
big shot with a fancy film crew,

you think you're special?

Too fucking good to have a drink
with the boys, are you?

No. No, not at all, Barry. Cheers.

- Thanks. Thanks a lot.
- It's not on the house any more.

Eric Bristow: Amateur.

Stan "180" Parlour: Mustard.
Watch this.

Aagh!

- Sorry, mate.
- Oi! What you done?

You shouldn't have been standing
in front of the dartboard.

Calm down, it's all right.

Stan, cool it.

Come on!

- You're Jimmy Connelly, in't ya?
- I thought it was you.

He's just dealing with some of
his anger-management issues.

- He'll be all right in a bit.
- You've got lovely eyes.

Get the drinks in
if you're not gonna help us.

That should help
bring the swelling down.

You should be able to see out of it
in a couple of days.

Thanks, Jimmy.

"The Calcium Kid's got a lot of bottle."

"Plucked from obscurity, Jimmy Connelly
has become the lead player

in a story of
David and Goliath proportions."

"His boxing skills are unknown,

but this is the stuff of fairy tales."

"As The Calcium Kid himself
so aptly put it,

'There's normally a winner
in a two-horse race'."

My dad would love seeing
our name in the papers.

He always said
the Connellys had potential.

I'll save it for him.

It wasn't his fault, you know.

There's only so much a man can take.

I don't blame him.

Sorry. What wasn't his fault, Jimmy?

Oh, nothing.

- Good night.
- Night-night.

Of course I'm proud of him.
What mother wouldn't be?

People shouting
his name out in the street.

It's done wonders for business, as well.

Speaking of which,

you two look as if
you could do with a massage.

I could fit you both in
before my five o'clock if you like.

Shall we cut the camera?

Give us your autograph, Jimmy.

Yeah, sure. Have you got any paper?

What are you doing?

Write: "To my lover, Mags."

Jesus Christ, Jimmy. Keep that indoors.

You've got your reputation
to think about.

Anyway, look who's made
the front page of the Currant Bun.

It's you!

Jump in, champ.
We got a bit of publicity to do.

I'm in a bit of a hurry now.
Maybe another time.

Come on. I've got an operation to run.
Come on.

Keep it tight. Keep it real.
All right, love. Freak.

I've arranged something

that will do wonders for your image
in the community.

Connelly, the rules haven't changed.

Jacket off in class.

- Yes, Mr Holiday.
- Ugh! Sweaty pits!

Enough!

I've got a class to teach next door,

so I'll leave you to answer
any questions my students may have.

Feel free to ask any questions you like.

- Is your name Jimmy Connelly?
- Yeah, it is.

Cos it says here,
"Jimmy Connelly is a wanker."

What you gonna do with your head
when Jose Mendez knocks it off?

I read you can break wooden planks
over your head cos your nut is so hard.

- Never actually tried that.
- Pussy.

I said I hadn't tried it.
I didn't say I couldn't do it.

Now, it's very important
none of you try this at home, all right?

So If you wanna grow up
strong and healthy,

all you need to do
is drink milk every day.

Before I go,
I'd just like to say one more thing,

something my dad told me
when I was a kid.

If you have a dream, follow it...

cos it mightjust come true.

- See you.
- Bye, Jimmy.

Now, we do realise that this is
a wonderful opportunity for him.

And as a token of our support,

we've given him a week off work on
full pay so he can get on with training,

and an unlimited supply
of full-fat dairy products

to help with the dietary aspects
of the training.

- All right, Stan?
- Jimbo.

Are you ready, son? Couple of stretches.

That's it. Lovely. We're off.

- Here you are, Jimmy boy.
- Thanks, Mr Jones.

Good luck, son, and don't forget,
bleedin' knock him spark out.

He has been coming to my shop
since he was a little lad

to buy sweets, beverages
and Embassy Number One cigarettes

for his mother, the massage therapist.

Jimmy has been coming in here
to get his hair cut for years.

It's great for the community.

We've been having it hard around these
parts as far back as I can remember.

In honour of Jimmy, I'm giving away
free special boxing-glove sweets

to every kiddie who comes in
to buy ciggies for his mummy.

Uncle Curtis got a special haircut
for him for the fight.

Go on, Jimmy, son.

You can do it.

There's only one Jimmy Connelly!

One Jimmy Connelly!

On bumping into Angel,

Jimmy felt like a space rocket,
jetting off towards the stars.

Hello. We haven't properly met.
I'm Angel.

Yeah. Yeah, you are.

Can I have my knockers back, please?

Yeah. Shit.

Jimmy.

On bumping into Margaret Livingstone,
Jimmy was brought crashing to earth.

- Jesus. You frightened me.
- I had a dream last night.

We got married, lived in a house
with two kids and a little doggy.

Archetypal case
of delusional personality disorder,

or, in layman's terms,
an absolute nutter.

You're the best boxer,
we should be together.

It's really not a good time right now.

What with the training for the fight
and everything else... Bye.

Why are you trying to turn Jimmy
against me?

Help! Pervert!

Miss, please don't.

Don't try and get in the way of destiny.

In and cut! Good. Gather round.

This is a big deal, you know.

You're singing the national anthem live
on TV at a world championship fight.

Jimmy! Give us a smile, mate.

Do yourselves a favour and go out there

and show the world what
The Altar Boys are all about, yeah?

- Yes, Mr Bush.
- Let's go.

We have a press conference
with Jose and Artie.

We gotta capitalise all this attention
that we're getting.

So far the world has seen the nice side
of Jimmy "The Calcium Kid" Connelly.

But tonight we're gonna show 'em
the fighter, the animal,

the man that's gonna rip
Jose's head off in the ring.

The nation has to believe
that you are a creditable contender.

If you follow my directions exactly and
we can weave a little bit of Bush magic,

then we can make that happen, son.

Yeah? Good. Come on. Let's go.

Mr Mendez, Mr Mendez.
Great to have you here in London.

- Thank you.
- How are you enjoying your stay?

London is a beautiful town, man.
I'm really happy to be here.

Do you have any concerns about
the last-minute change of opponent,

and is it affecting
your training for the fight?

All of God's children bleed the same.

This fight won't go past
the first round.

Is that your prediction,
a knockout in the first?

- It's God's prediction.
- I have a question.

Where is this replacement fighter?

Maybe he scuttled under a rock

when faced with the reality of standing
toe to toe with the great Mendez.

Yeah, well, that's very funny.

- Good evening. I am Herbie Bush.
- Who?

What's the matter with you?

I'm very delighted and excited
to present to you

Jimmy "The Calcium Kid" Connelly.

- Put it on. Put it on now.

How does it feel
to be plucked from obscurity

to fight against the best
pound-for-pound fighter in the world?

This must be a great privilege for you.

"It feels like my birthright."

"It's time to bring
the championship belt

back to its rightful place
in Great Britain."

"These foreigners have had
the title long enough."

"We used to own America,

and on Saturday night
I will own Jose Mendez."

You will what?
The only thing that you're gonna own

is the record for the fastest defeat
ever in title-fight history, OK?

- Long live the Queen.
- Come on!

Never mind the milkman, Mendez.
I'm your man!

It's not the milkman.
It's The Calcium Kid!

Let's show the world
who the true champion is.

- Out, out, out!
- I'll be seeing the lot of you!

Don't you fuckin' worry!
I'll be seeing the lot of you!

Something about a banana?

Jose Mendez chose this fight
as a way of unifying

the United States
with our brothers in England.

And we get repaid with
this disgraceful display of racism.

This is personal, amigo. On Saturday
it's gonna be just you and me

and the pain I'm gonna bring
to your fascist world!

- This press conference is over.
- He fucking bit me!

36, 37, 38...

You idiot! As if things
aren't bad enough already,

without you making
a prat out of yourself!

What did I do?

"Fascist fighter shames nation"?

"Jimmy 'The Calcium Kid' Connelly
will fight Jose Mendez

for the middleweight championship
on Saturday."

"He will be doing so
without the support of this newspaper."

"Connelly showed up at pre-fight press
conference in full Union Jack attire

and lambasted Jose Mendez
in the name of Queen and country."

What does lambasted mean?

Oi, Jimmy.

- We're right behind you, Connelly.
- You lead the way and we will follow.

Jim, I think we should walk away.
Don't talk to those people.

A bit faster, Jimmy. Run. Jimmy, run.

Jimmy, hold up, son. Where you going?

Dave, we should hang back.

I had my suspicion
when he called himself The Calcium Kid,

but who was to know?

He has disgraced the entire community.

Jimmy Connelly has been relieved of
his milk round effectively immediately.

At this point in time that is all I have
to say. Thank you and drink milk.

Didn't do yourselfjustice last night,
did you, Jimmy?

Laid it on a bit thick, didn't you, son?

What I gave you was an outline,
an idea, a concept,

for you to take and finesse
and make your very own.

Let's say I am the map
and you are the driver.

Whether you turn left or right
or do a U'y is entirely up to you.

But before the press conference

you told me to follow
your directions exactly

so we could weave a little Bush magic.

- All right, Jim?
- All right, Stan.

Let us in.
These guys keep following me about.

- They're freaking me out.
- So it's true, then? You are a fascist.

Course I'm not a fascist.
They got it wrong.

Never doubted you for a second, Jimbo.
Let's teach these dicks a lesson.

- Who's that at the door?
- Hold this.

- It's Jimbo, Mum.
- I don't want you talking to him.

And don't think you're going out
until you've folded the laundry!

And to think we thought
you were such a nice boy.

There's only one Jose Mendez!

Your mum told me
that your dad's in prison.

I know you've had
a rough couple of days,

but it's important that
we cover all aspects of your life

or we're never going to stay faithful
to the project.

Can we talk about it, Jimmy?

My dad lost his job, so my mum
took a course in massage therapy.

To earn a bit of cash.

I think he found it a bit difficult.

I know he wanted to be the breadwinner.

More and more clients
started coming over the house.

Then one day when I was at school
my dad just flipped.

He ended up hitting one of them
over the head with a kettle.

Eight years. Attempted murder.

Don't you ever visit him in prison?

No.

No. He doesn't want me
to see him locked up.

I remember once he told me...

"Nothing's out of reach
if you've got long arms."

I think deep down I'm doing
this whole thing for him, you know?

Make him proud of me.

So he can hold his head up high
no matter what, cos his son's a success.

- I like your bangle.
- Thanks.

That's really nice of you to say.

- What are you doing here?
- Don't be so rude to your guest.

You should be flattered a pretty girl
takes an interest in a mutt like you.

Right, I'm off to bed, then.

Oh, if you boys want another massage,

I'm sure I've got another couple
left in me before I crash out.

No, we're fine, thanks, Pat.

Oh, suit yourself, then, peewee.
Nighty-night.

It was so nice to spend
some time with your mother.

I think she and I could become
really good friends.

I don't mean to be rude...

but it's not normal.

Turning up in strangers' kitchens,
eating fish fingers is not normal.

I...

This really is all too much.

Everyone thinks I'm a fascist.
The whole country hates me.

I've lost my milk round, and to top
it all, I have to come home to this!

I need to sleep.

I'm exhausted.

Please, leave. Please.

You bastard.

What's she doing? She's mad.

- You've gotta be kidding.
- The fight's tomorrow.

I need to see first-hand
how you're shaping up.

Now, come on, stick it on me.
And no holding back, mind.

- I'm not gonna hit you, Paddy.
- I don't know why I'm wasting me time.

I'd find a bigger set of balls
in a girls' hockey team.

Jesus Christ! You really are
as much of a dairy fairy

as everybody says you are!

Shit, Paddy. Are you all right? Paddy?

What a right hook.

You've got the devil
hiding in that punch, laddie.

We'll have to give it a name.

I know. We'll call it the Lily O'Dwyer.

Why Lily O'Dwyer, Paddy?

Because it's a thing of beauty,

and let's leave it at that, or you might
bring a tear to a glass eye.

What a punch!

This isn't working out
like you promised.

Everybody hates me and loves Jose.

All you've gotta do is knock Mendez out
and you'll be golden gloves again.

What if I don't knock him out?
He is the undefeated world champion.

We'll cross that bridge
when we get there.

Get cracking.
You've got two hours of training

before our exclusive interview
on XFM radio.

It's your chance to set the record
straight all you like. Don't blow it.

I never swallow.
It's murder on the vocal chords.

And we have our first caller.

Hello, caller. You're live on the air
with Dave King and Jimmy Connelly.

- What's your question?
- All right, Dave.

I live on Jimmy's street
and his mum's a brass.

My husband's been doing
the housekeeping on her for years.

- And his old man's in the nick.
- You've got it wrong...

Are you suggesting
that Jimmy's father is a convict

and his mother is a prostitute?

You git!

Pat was a little upset
at the public allegations

made about her choice
of profession on radio.

I'm a massage therapist!

I'm good with my hands.

She gave Jimmy his marching orders
and rented out his room to Margaret.

Whoever that is,
it'd better be fucking good!

All right, Jim? What you doing, pal?

All right. I've had a bit of bother
at home. Can I stay over?

Your timing's rotten. I've got me bird
over. I'm getting me nuts wet.

- Stan.
- Oh. OK.

Stop showing off in front of your mate.

Wait there, all right?

Listen, mate.
Why don't you kip in the lockup?

There's blankets and a torch in there.

It's cosy once you get used
to the draughts.

Yeah. Yeah, OK.

Oi, Jim.

Tomorrow's the day
The Calcium Kid's on his way

The world might think he's a loser

But watch out, he's a bruiser.

With some trepidation

I decided to visit
Pete on the morning of the fight.

Our documentary wouldn't be complete

without some kind of resolution
from its original subject.

I dreamt about this night

ever since I was a little kid.

The night when Pete Wright

won the championship belt,

to gain respect
throughout the boxing world.

Along comes the milkman,
with his bony fucking chin,

and shatters my dream!

- I was robbed!
- I think we should leave now, Dave.

I was fucking robbed!
Stick this in your poxy documentary!

And if you ever come back,
I'll serve the fucking pair of you!

Come onl Move it!

Hurry up, you fat git!

Morning, Jimmy.
Sorry, time to wake up.

Life was so simple a week ago.

I miss my milk round.

I felt like I was doing
something good, you know.

I want my old life back.

Ever since my dad went away,
everything's been messed up.

He always gave me
the best advice, you know?

If he was here now,
what do you think he would say to you?

I don't know.

Why don't you find out?

Prisoner 3729 Connelly.

Dad. You're so big.

There's not much to do in here,
son, but lift weights.

I've qualified for this inter-prison
power-lifting tournament.

Got a competition
against the Scrubs next week.

So who's all this mob, then?

It's OK, Dad. They're making
a documentary about me.

I'm fighting Jose Mendez
for the world title.

Yeah, I've been reading about that
in the papers for the last few days.

You landed me in it
with the black fellas.

I'm not a fascist, Dad.
It was a big misunderstanding.

Good. Cos I didn't bring you up
that way, did I, now, eh?

Remember what I taught you
when you was a kid about all that stuff?

- Colour means nothing to a blind man.
- Exactly.

What is so important
you had to come and talk to me about?

Thought we had an arrangement.

I know we did, Dad. It's just...

I'm a bit confused about
everything that's going on.

Does it feel like everyone's trying
to pull your trousers down, Son?

Yeah.

Yeah. That's it exactly.

My advice to you is
start wearing a belt.

Just because you can't see
the sun behind the clouds

doesn't mean it isn't still shining.

You're OK. Win or lose tonight,
I'm proud of you.

Oh, that's a cocktail, innit?

Yeah, it's very pretty.

- We need to talk.
- Shoot. I'm all ears.

Your services are no longer
required, Mr Bush.

Everything you've got me to do
has been a total disaster

and I've had enough.

Look at him all serious.

No, I'm sorry. Seriously,
what can I do for you, son?

Do you fancy a nice
steak breakfast, steam bath?

Or a Singapore sling? My treat.

I'm notjoking, Mr Bush.

You're a pathetic excuse for a manager.

You're fired!

Fired?

What does he mean, fired?
You can't fire me.

Without me, there is no fight,
there is no Calcium Kid.

I think you're a bit
confused there, Mr Bush.

Because without me,
there is no Calcium Kid.

And without me, there is no fight.

And you know what? I've just decided
I don't want any of it.

Take your Melee On The Tele
and shove it where the sun don't shine.

Leonard.

Tell him what you're gonna do to him
if he doesn't fight Mendez.

Something painful, guv?

If you're trying to scare me,
you'd be better off by saying, "Boo!"

Jimmy, come back.
We can talk this through, champ.

Your pantaloons, guv.

Jimmy! Jimmy, come back here.

Jimmy, open up! It's me!

Jimmy!

- Any idea where he might be?
- No, sorry.

You must know something, you posh prat.

I don't think there's any need for that.

What about you, you soppy Irish sod?

I've not the slightest inkling, Mr Bush.

But I know a man who might.

- We're looking for Jimmy.
- Why? Has he done a Burton?

If you mean has he disappeared six hours
before the fight, the answer is yes.

Had enough of your silly bollocks,
has he, Mr Bush?

It would appear that way.

Now, do you have any idea
where he might be?

What's it worth to you?

Not my Merced...

Oi, Jimbo. Silly bollocks
is here to see ya.

Can I talk with you?
I've had a good think,

and I realise I've not been
so fair with you so far.

I've been so stressed putting together
The Melee On The Tele,

the dolly birds, you know,
The Altar Boys...

I've neglected my job as your manager.

Jim, please, son. Don't do this to me.
Don't do it to me.

If you don't fight, I'm ruined.

I'm all washed-up.

You cost me my job and my reputation.

The whole community's
turned against me.

What can I do to make it up to you,
champ? I'll do anything. Anything!

You can start
by getting me my old job back.

I'll talk to Mr Bennet straightaway.

I'll tell him that whole fascist thing
was all my fault,

and that you were an innocent pawn
in the whole thing.

I want you to donate a state-of-the-art
body-building gymnasium

to H-Wing at Halmsworth nick.

And name it after Clive Connelly.

But that's gonna cost me 20 grand.

Take it or leave it.

Why do I get the feeling I've got
me trousers round me ankles?

My advice to you, Mr Bush:
Start wearing a belt.

No, Dave. This is hip-hop styles, mate.

Go low and wide.
Over there somewhere, all right?

Later.

This is world championship boxing!

I thought I'd pop in and wish you
all the best for tonight's fight.

It's gonna be a hard one,
but I know you can do it.

Just give him a couple of them
underneath. Know what I mean?

Did you know that according
to the theory of aerodynamics,

and as may well be demonstrated
by means of a wind tunnel,

the bumble bee shouldn't be able to fly.

Because of its size, weight and shape
in relation to its total wingspan,

flight should be impossible.

However, the bumble bee,
being unaware of these scientific facts

but possessing considerable
determination, does fly.

And makes a little honey, too.

Johnny, I want you to close your eyes,
take a few deep breaths

and visualise yourself
sitting in a beautiful field

beside a quaint little stream.

A lovely breeze blows over your face

and you feel safe and calm.

Safe and calm. Safe and calm.

An angry Jose
shot out of the stream,

grabbed me by the ears
and dragged me under.

The pre-fight anxiety.

I've seen it in many a great champion.

We'll have a look at a video
of one of Jose's scraps

and figure out a way
to batter that bruiser for a loop.

That'll calm your nerves.

I'm gonna die.
Knock me out so I don't have to fight.

Please. Do it. Hard as you can.

Don't hold it against me
if it takes a few wallops.

Don't be such a chopping block, Johnny.
You're in great shape.

You wouldn't know great shape
if it was with you on a treadmill.

"Come on, Johnny.
Give us the press-ups. Do the jigs."

"Bejesus! There's a leprechaun
in the ring! Punch him!"

I'll bleedin' knock you out,
you mad old Irish bastard!

That's it. Get angry, work yourself up.

Give it everything you've got, Johnny.

And it's not Johnny!

It's Jimmy! Jimmy!

OK, OK.

I know what your name is, son.

You've taken enough
and it's time to take no more.

You're ready, son.

Right here, right now, you're ready.

It's time to show the world
that you're no palooka.

It's time to show the world that
Jimmy "The Calcium Kid" Connelly

is a champion.

Well, this is it. Tonight's the night.

We're all here for you,
and I thought you'd like this.

Spelt with a C.

There you go.

You look really nice, Jimmy.

- Thanks, Mr Bush.
- That's OK, son.

There's a full house out there
waiting for you.

Your bones are made of granite,

your punches are harder
than the kick of a mule,

you've got a one-way ticket to the big
time and it's time to get on the train.

Let's do this!

Here's your gloves.

I can see it in his eyes
He's ready for the prize

Rumble, kid, rumble!

Surprise, you slags.

- Oh, my God.
- Shut it, Bush!

- Get in there, the lot of you. Move it!
- Keep it running.

We could win a fucking BAFTA!

- Get in there! Move it!
- What is that camera crew doing here?

I said sit down!

So, as you can see, I've decided to
arrange for our own little fight night.

We've got everything we need right here.

And we've got the cameras

to make us famous.

Right, first up, national anthem.

Come on, then, girls.
Let's hear you. Come on.

Enough of that bollocks.

You're giving me a fucking nosebleed.
Sit down before I shoot the lot of you.

Right, now for our first fight
of the evening.

A one-round, all-out scrap till
one person gets knocked the fuck out.

Fighting out of South East London,

with a record of no fights, no wins,

no draws and no knockouts.

Ladies and gentlemen,

a useless slag
with no prospects in the game:

The milkman.

You come here to fight, right?

Yeah. Yeah, I did.

So fuckin' move, then!

Move!

And fighting out of Las Vegas, America,

originating out of a mud hut
somewhere in Mexico:

Jose Mendez.

You very
fucking strong man. Look at you.

Imagine you're a corner
of a boxing ring.

Make a square round our fighters. Move!

Don't be shy. Flash a bit of flesh
and let's see what you're made of.

Here we go, then.

Let's get ready to rumble!

I want a good, clean fight.
No holding, butting or gouging.

Break when I say break, and when
the bell sounds, come out fighting.

It's bad enough I have to fight
this punk for money in the ring,

but now you want me to fight him
for nothing in a rat hole?

I'm Jose Mendez,
Middleweight Champion of the World,

the chosen one for our generation.

This son of a puta whore isn't even fit
to lick the sweat off my balls.

OK, my friend. Now we're gonna
do it for fun, all right?

- This is it, Jimmy. Come on, son.
- Get in there, son.

Come on! Just hold him.

- Go on, Calcium Kid.
- Come on!

That's it!

Come on, Jim!

But on second thoughts...

Fuck the milkman, and let's get
straight to the main event.

Fuck me, kid, you do have a hard head.

Leave him alone! You bully!

Never mind the milkman, sweetheart.

When this is all over,
you come over to my place

and I'll show you a real man.

It should have been me, Jose.

It should have been me.

- Not the milkman.
- It's not the milkman.

- You what?
- It's The Calcium Kid!

The Lily O'Dwyer!

Yes!

Pete was convicted of abduction
with murderous intent

and sentenced to 28 years.

He's keeping fit, hoping to relaunch
his career on his release. He'll be 61.

Jose claimed he heard a celestial voice

whispering to him down the barrel
of Pete's shotgun.

"Hang up your gloves.
Come fight for the Lord." So he did.

Paddy got a three-fight contract
as Prince Naseem's trainer.

The Prince was reported to find
Paddy's techniques unique but effective.

Herbie decided to expand the business

and branch out
into Middle Eastern entertainment.

Bush and his three bellies are touring
East Anglia and the Home Counties.

Stan's rap shot straight to number one,

landing him a deal
with an urban record label.

He's enjoying all the perks
of his new life.

And as for Jimmy
"The Calcium Kid" Connelly,

well, he can tell you himself.

I got promoted
after the whole Pete Wright thing.

Mr Bennet keeps calling me
their own little national hero.

- Look! The Calcium Kid!
- Come on, Jimmy!

Little rascals.

I got a call last week from Artie Cohen

about the possibility of doing
a few exhibition bouts in the States.

I suppose I could take him up on it
one of these days.

But for now I'm back on the float.

Morning, Jimmy. Why don't you come in
and whip me up a milkshake?

I might just do that, Mrs Connelly.

Not today, fellas, eh?