All language subtitles for The First Team s01e04_Engh

COMMENTATOR: Agüero!

This is gonna be great.

Almost everyone else is away

with their countries
on international duty. I'm excited.

- Then you're an idiot.
- What, because I'm happy

about getting some one-on-one coaching
with Cesare?

Maybe you can ask him
if he signed you by mistake.

I am not going to ask that, thanks, Jack.

Bro, this is my last time.

England be violating.

They expect me to wait for them, and
I can't hack another one of these weeks.

- So I'm going with a different country.
- Yeah, which one?

One of 'em. Somewhere in Africa?

Ghana.

I'm hoping to get a call-up soon.

My dad said he's part Gypsy,
so maybe they've got a team.

Seriously, we'll have
the undivided attention

of one of the greatest coaches
of all time.

- What could be bad about that?
- Ah, you'll see.

(TOILET FLUSHES)

Phew!

Now, that is what I call doing a shit.

Just us this week, then?

So, big week.

Big week for us all.

Big week.

No football.

But also yes.

Seven days is-is a week, no?

Yes, is a week.

Hey, Mattie, how you doing, buddy?

- Er, yeah, great, thanks.
- Good.

Hey, Cesare, good.
I wanted to have a quick word.

Yes, yes, of course, maestro.

Please stop signing
shit Eastern European goalkeepers.

How many overpaid fumbling
former communists do we need?

Yes.

Case in point.

I...speak English.

I studied in the US.

Good for you. Did you defect?

Croatia is not communist.

Isn't it?

All right.

- (SLAVEN SOBS)
- Take it easy. Bye, Mattie.

So, international week.

You train today. Chris boss.

Me, I go to Lago Maggiore.

Wow. What a view.

Ciao.

What the fuck?

OK! Cool beans.

Great stuff. Right, well, let's start off
with some shuttle runs in teams, yeah?

- Bit different, bit...
- Right, listen. After training,

it's the traditional Petey Brooks
international week barbecue at my place.

You three are invited.

Chris, obviously you aren't.

And the big crying Borat
can't come either.

No problem. I've got quite a lot
to be getting on with, to be honest.

So...anyone say weak-foot rondos?

Come round about 12.

Oh, and, er, park down the hill.

- You ain't got no parking?
- Course I've got parking, you prick.

I just don't want your shitty motors
sitting outside my house.

Go on!

(PHONE VIBRATES)

Hey, listen, all men should have a cry.
Not here, not at a football club. But...

Jacky! Jacky boy!

Here he is, lads. England's future!

Pure talent

- and good looks too, my boy.
- Hello, Dad.

Didn't even know you were back.
How's the business?

Yeah, still not exactly legal, but...

I'm speaking to the Mayor,
so it's just a matter of time.

More importantly, how's the hamstring?

- It's all right.
- Yeah? Not feeling it too much?

Back in the squad
for the next match maybe?

Well, I hope so. Have you seen Grandad?

No, not yet. Listen, what about
Carlos Velez? Is he back soon?

Er, I think so, yeah.

Good player, Carlos, eh?

Oh!

Moody, though. Yeah, difficult.

Nah. Nah, he's all right.
What's with all the questions?

- I'm just catching up, aren't I?
- Er, guys, yeah,

sorry, the...the dressing room's
kind of sacrosanct, you know.

Players only.

(CHANTS) Boothie! Boothie!

Ho-ho! Chris Booth!

Almost a club legend.

Ha-ha! How are you, mate?

Hey, I love the way you train
the young 'uns. Inspiring.

Oh. Well, thank you. Thanks.

Listen, what's the skinny on Cesare?

He's getting sacked, isn't he?

(ITALIAN ACCENT) It's time to come in.
Your number's up, boss.

No, no, he's great, he's great.
Everything at the club's great.

So... Anyway... Nice to meet you.

He runs when he wants!

He runs when he wa-a-ants!

Boothie gives no fucks

He runs when he wants!

Ha, yeah, I remember that chant.

Gor!

I wanted to run, I did. I was...

I was coming back from, er, as it turns
out, a career-ending knee injury.

Er, but...

You can't beat terrace humour.

Excuse me, I'm going to go

- and pack some cones away.
- Oh.

(CHANTS) Boothie! Boothie!

What a prick!

He's been nicking a living
out of this club for years.

What's he think he's doing there,
trying to have me off?

Well, we're not meant to talk
about club business to outsiders.

I'm sorry, but you need to leave right
now. You were meant to wait in reception.

Yeah. All right. Calm down, Theresa May.

Didn't realise talking to your children
was a crime.

- See you later, Jack, eh?
- Yeah. Um...

Listen, I'm about this afternoon
if you want.

Well, I'm meant to be at this barbecue
thing, but I can swerve it off.

Oh, yeah, I've got a bit of business
this afternoon, son.

I'll catch you later, eh?
Look after that hamstring.

Come on.

Oh, Olivia, actually,
you're not meant to be in here either.

Oh, right, yeah.

Sorry!

(BENJI HUMS TUNE)

JACK: You having a stroke?

Learning this national anthem.

Hey, the fans are gonna be gassed.

A new player singing every word.

Kevin-Prince Boateng will love it.

I have no idea
why Petey asked us here. He hates us.

- He hates you.
- I know why he's asked us.

- Yeah?
- Yeah. Petey wants to be manager.

He's being nice to us so we back him
for the job when Cesare gets sacked.

Come on. Cesare's a legend.
He's not going anywhere.

- Apart from on holiday. Again.
- Have a look at this.

The man is a fraud, bruv!

We are a fucking shambles,

and it's down to him!

He used to be good

but now he's pasta his best.

He did all right once

but now he's a Shitalian! Yeah?

Give us our club back!

I want him out! He's forgetti bolognese!

Fuck off, you crappuccino!

What an absolute pack of pricks.

Who the hell do they think they are,
talking about a legend like that?

If Bootz has turned on Cesare, it's bad.
He's the most loyal one.

- There's more of them?
- Yeah.

Big Al. Garlic - his mum's French.

Gammon.

Call him that cos he looks like a pig.
And he's a bit racist.

- Does anyone actually watch that shit?
- Half a million hits, that one.

Maybe I should take a look.

Don't do that.
They think you were signed by mistake.

- OK.
- Boys, I hope you like loud music.

(WHISTLES TUNE)

That's a nice welcome.

I fucking hate international week.

- (STRUMS)
- Why don't you come on over

Valerieeee?

Self-taught.

Nothing calms me down

- like a good strumming session.
- Petey.

Speak of the devil.
Was just talking about fingering you.

Ha-ha, shut up. Disgusting.

Babes, these are a few
of the young lads from work.

- Hello, boys. I'm Janey.
- MATTIE: Hello.

- Nice to meet you.
- Good afternoon.

I thought I'd invite them over, show 'em
first hand what talent, a massive knob

and the mental strength
of a suicide bomber can get you in life.

All right, well, have fun.
Where's the dog?

Winston!

Winston, get here!

Aw, that's sweet. He's snuck
into one of our training vests.

That's not sweet. I put him in that.

The sports science lot wanted
to monitor my daily routine,

check I'm not slacking
when everyone is away.

Winston's putting a few
extra miles on the clock.

Make sure he does at least 5K, babe.
The fat twat.

Don't. You'll hurt his feelings.

Come on, Winston.

Still got a nice arse, hasn't she?

I said...

"...Still got a nice arse...

"...hasn't she?"

Wait a minute.

Do you boys think
my missus hasn't got a nice arse?

(LAUGHS) I'm winding you up!

She loves blokes staring.
She used to be a stripper.

Interesting. Where did you guys meet?

Where do you fucking think?

- In a strip club?
- Yes.

Word of advice,
especially to you, Mattie -

get rid of your plain girlfriends
before you get famous.

Now, I've got a question for yous.

What do you boys know
about digging out tree stumps?

Is this more advice on women?

No. See that?

I had it cut down, cos I don't rate trees,
but the stump's left.

So we need to get that fucker
out of the ground before lunch.

I'll get cracking on the B-B-Q.

You grab them shovels and get digging.

(BENJI HUMS TUNE)

Bruv, this is long.

You've done fuck-all, mate.
Me and Mattie are breaking our backs here.

My brain's fried. Yeah? Learning this
anthem's like learning a foreign language.

Really? What language is it?

English.

Are you playing for England now? Nice.

Nah. Turns out
English is also the language of Guyana.

Guyana? You're going to play for Guyana?

Yes, sir! One of the best teams in Africa.

Now a lot better cos of your boy.
The Black Stars.

That's Ghana.

However you pronounce it.

Well, you pronounce Ghana Ghan-a,
but you're going to play for Guyana,

which you pronounce Guy-an-a,
because it's a South American nation...

...who are...

...185th in the world.

Let me see that.

Maybe it's like po-tay-to, po-tah-to.

No, it's more like po-tay-to, lap-top,

because they are
two completely different things.

Oh, shit! So that's what he meant.

Benji, we are so excited.

Yeah, you would be.

I mean, you're getting a good player.

Just...sign here.

And we'll get a photo, eh?

(CAMERA SHUTTER CLICKS)

We're delighted, man.

Delighted!

This is a huge day for my country.

My country too.

Look, this is the first time we've had
a professional soccer player commit to us.

Really? What about Michael Essien?

- What about him?
- He played for you.

- He played for Ghana.
- Exactly.

- Yes, exactly.
- Yes.

- Yes.
- What?

Huh... So, what a great day it is
for Guyana! Hey?

(LAUGHS) Hooray for Guyana!

Yeah, great day. Hooray.

Now, before the Concacaf qualifiers
against those Suriname cheats,

you're going to need a course
of anti-malaria tablets, all right?

And a rabies shot.

Photo?

(LAUGHS)

(CAMERA SHUTTER CLICKS)

Jesus Christ! And it's fucking miles away!

(PHONE VIBRATES)

Oh, no.
Oh, Dad, what have you done that for?

This has gone beyond a joke now, my mate.

He's got his sweaty feet up on a sunbed
somewhere

while our season goes down the khazi!

INTERVIEWER: So you're telling me
he's left training

to Boothie and gone on holiday?

Correct.

Now, you lot all know
that I've got sources inside the club.

Follow me on Twitter.

@InsideDazzer.

So I've got to choose my words
very, very carefully here.

But...

...Cesare...

...you are a cancer on our club.

And I am begging you,

get the fuck out of our club,

you lazy, senile Italian piece of...!

Oh, you're fucked.

Can I have your squad number
when they sell you?

- (PHONE VIBRATES)
- It's Olivia. Wonder what she wants.

I've no idea.
What do you think it could be about, Jack?

Oh, shit. I've got to get my dad
to take this down. I'd better go.

Yeah, you'd better. See you later.

- Can I go, though?
- Course you can go.

- Do I need to ask Petey's permission?
- No.

- Petey won't mind?
- Just go.

- Can't you go instead?
- I don't need to go, do I?

- If you need to leave, just leave.
- Can you ask Petey if I can go?

- Me? No. You ask.
- Yeah, but he might say no and...

Well, I've got to go.

- Then go.
- Yeah, course.

All right, you lot cover for me
with Petey, yeah?

- (THUD)
- Shit.

What are we going to tell Petey?

That we lost him?

That's just someone else's garden
over there.

(PHONE VIBRATES)

Oh, it's Olivia.

Oh, fuckin' hell. Listen, I know you fancy
her, but please don't answer the phone.

What if she wants to talk to me
about something else?

Yeah. She's probably ringing
to ask you to marry her.

- Please.
- (HORN HONKS)

You not finished yet?

We'll get it done quickly now, Petey,
thanks to that thing.

Oh, you can't use this, nah.

The shovel's a bastard to clean
when there's mud on it.

Anyway, when you're done,
come downstairs and have a swim.

I've got some cold beers.
The cleaner's made some tacos.

And I'll get the barbecue going.

The quicker you're done,
the quicker you can get in that pool.

I didn't bring any trunks.

I've got spare trunks, you wombat!

Think I've got this massive house
and a stripper for a bird

and I don't have spare trunks?

Now, chop chop.

Dig dig.

Oh...

This is a nightmare. It's hit 2,000 likes.

Bro, just tell Petey you need to bounce
to sort something. He won't mind.

Yeah? Yeah, course.

PETEY: Well done, boys.

Now grab a beer and have a swim.

Oh, Petey, I-I-I... I...
I might have to...

This-This...

This thing's...

You know, I-I've... I've got to...

- Spit it out, Rain Man.
- Nothin'.

Right, here's your trunks.

They're tailor-made
for my massive wanger,

so should be nice and roomy for you lot.

All I had left.

Should be enough
to cover your tiny dick, though.

Only joking. It's completely average.

Though I have noticed
your balls are small.

OK. Well, I'll be fine in my underpants.

What? You're not getting in my pool
in your skiddy kecks.

I'd just be more comfortable in my own
underwear than these children's Speedos.

But I'll be less comfortable
with your shit washing round my pool.

Petey, I promise you,
I don't have skids in my pants.

Prove it.

- What?
- Prove it.

You're not getting in my pool
in those pants

until you prove your kecks
haven't got skids.

Fine. I won't go in the pool.

Oh, you're going in the fucking pool.
No-one disrespects my hospitality.

Fine.

Here are my pants.

Yeah. Clean as a whistle.

You're good to go.

I've never felt less relaxed
in my entire life.

Instead of sorting out this Ghana shit,
I'm trapped in a very nice pool.

Guyana. And we're not trapped.

You tell Petey we're leaving, then.

Obviously, I'm not gonna do that.

Right. Come over here and dry off.

I've got some surprises for you.

I hope the surprise is we can go home.

It feels like we're under house arrest.

Right. Surprise number one.

I hope you nonces aren't vegans.

I got these steaks
all the way from Colorado.

This bloke I know flies the cows in
and then kills them just down the road.

Wow. This lunch might have
the biggest carbon footprint of all time.

You better believe it.

Wouldn't get a tight prick like
Chris Booth treating you like this, eh?

Tuck in.

- How's the salad?
- Salad's great, thank you.

Yeah. Maria's a legend in the kitchen.

Not much to look at,
but Lady Jane insists on hiring mingers

since I got caught drilling the nannies.

C'est la vie.

Special salt, is it?

No. It's a chlamydia antibiotic.

It's for the wife.

This way she gets cured
and I don't get the grief.

What she don't know can't hurt her.

Apart from chlamydia.

Now, who can guess
what the next Petey surprise is?

You want us to dig out
another fucking great stump?

Nope.

You want to discuss Cesare's future?

No. After lunch, I got a mate coming over
who sells watches and washbags.

You're gonna love 'em.

I told him you'd buy some.

To be fair, that is a surprise.

Hmm. How much is this one?

That's £800.

- For a washbag?
- A designer washbag.

How much is that watch there, Tony?

That's £40,000.

And it tells the time and nothing else?

It also shows the phases of the moon.

What, in case I'm a werewolf?

It's got a number of uses.

- (PHONE VIBRATES)
- Oh, no, can't we just leave?

Yes, of course we can. We're adults.
No-one can keep us here.

We can simply stand up and walk out.

Petey said you weren't to leave
until you bought something.

And he always takes a cut,
so...help me out?

OK, fine.

What's the cheapest thing you got here?

500-quid soap dish.

Fuck that!

Fine. I'll buy it.

- What are you doing?
- 500 quid is cheap to get out of here.

- Mattie, tell Petey we're going.
- Why me?

You've got a degree.

Yeah, in sports science, not in escaping
team-mates' houses. You tell him.

Petey could be the next manager.
I'm not going to piss him off.

- (PHONE VIBRATES)
- Olivia's back on the phone.

This is mental.
That's it, we're doing it, we're going.

- Good.
- Yeah, good.

- I can sort this Ghana stuff out.
- Guyana.

- Going somewhere?
- No.

Yes, you are.
I've got one more treat for you.

(CROWD ROARS ON VIDEO)

PATRICK STEWART VOICE: Another
towering header from Petey Brooks.

- I really need to leave.
- I know that.

- You think I don't fucking know that?
- ( Land Of Hope And Glory)

He's been a pro for 16 years.
We could be here for ever.

A leader of men,

and one day England will realise
what they missed

by suspending him for international duty

due to a misunderstanding
over racial epithets.

But one day Petey Brooks will return
and lead them as a manager to glory!

And then...

...he will be avenged.

(VIDEO OFF)

- How was that?
- Amazing.

- Good.
- Yeah, impressive.

Correct. Old baldy Star Trek charged me
a fortune to do the voice-over.

Totally worth it.

Now...

Fuck off out of my house.

All right, boys? Did you have fun?

Yes, Janey. It was definitely fun.

Aren't those steaks he makes delicious?

He won't tell me
what the secret ingredient is.

I think it's love.

Did you get the stump out?

- Nope.
- Oh.

I don't care if Cesare gets sacked,
as long as Petey don't get the job.

Oh, I agree, but what can we do?

You can do something. Tell your mate
Mr Chairman what Petey's really like.

Firstly, he's not my mate, and secondly,
going behind a team-mate's back,

even one as odious as Petey,
feels disloyal.

So it's not because
you're scared of Petey?

Oh, no, it's mainly the fear, for sure.

God, you've cheered up.

Not concerned about flying thousands
of miles to play against farmers any more?

No. Gonna be all sweet.

Be fixed by the time I get home.
My mum's fixing it.

Because that's the international
football hierarchy.

It goes the FA, UEFA, then FIFA,
then Benji's mom.

My mum fixes everything.

Maybe we should get her in
to deal with Petey. Or me dad.

Well, no offence,
but I might try someone different.

Hi. First off, thank you.

I know you probably had other plans
this evening.

Irrelevant, whether I did or not.
Dealing with your problems is my job.

Well, I appreciate it.

As I said, it's my job.
Your gratitude is neither here nor there.

Cool beans.

- I'm sorry?
- Nah. OK.

Look, I called you

because I'm worried Petey Brooks
is angling for the manager's job

and he's clearly a psychopath.

So? This is football.

When's that ever been a barrier
to success?

What, should I tell Mr Crane
and warn him about Petey?

Even though doing so
would be super disloyal.

And I don't want to be a snitch.

But then, Rosa Parks snitched
on all those people who wouldn't let her

sit at the front of the bus,
and changed America.

Yes.

Rosa Parks was famous for her snitching.

I just want to do the right thing.

Mattie...

Sometimes the right thing to do
is also the stupid thing to do.

So I'm sure you'll do the right thing.

Thank you.

Wait a minute...

Oh, and you should
move out of this hotel.

Trust me, staying in hotels long term
isn't good for the soul.

You've got a soul?

I didn't say that.

Good luck with your conscience.

- Who's from there again?
- Your grandfather.

Well, he's dead, so he won't care.

He's not dead. He lives in Trinidad.

Oh, God, they're still there.

Why won't they leave?

- Oh!
- Benji Achebe! I know you're in there!

The qualifiers against Suriname
are in three weeks

and we're not leaving without you!

I'm scared.
Mum, I thought you spoke to them.

Not yet. I can't spend the whole of my day
wiping your bum-bum, you know.

Mum, please.

(SIGHS)

OK, fine.

I have an idea.

Benji can't come out to play,
because it's past his bedtime.

We wait.

Also, he doesn't want to play for Guyana.

He said he did.
He signed the contract, man!

Yes, but now he doesn't!

Is it because of
the Guyana-Ghana confusion? Hm?

Because we've had it a few times.

No, of course not!

Three points is all that matters.

Darren, Darren, let me get you
another drink, mate.

Oh, no, come on.

Oh, come on, you're a legend.
A legend, in't he, boys?

All right, but listen,
the next round's mine.

Here he is, lads!

He's one of our own

He's one of our o-w-wn

He fucking hates Cesare

He's one of our own!

Boys, boys, boys.

Boys, boys, boys, just give us
a minute, yeah? Cheers.

Listen, Dad...

He shits when he wants

He shits all the time

- He...
- Yeah, just give us a sec, eh, Bootz?

Dad, I said I wanted
somewhere quiet to talk.

Oh, it's only the boys, Jack.

I can't help it if they agree

that the fruit of my loins
is a bloody legend, can I? Eh?

So, come on, legend, what's on your mind?

You've got to take that video down.

It's already done. Yeah, I thought
you were getting a bit vexed,

by all those texts you were sending me.

Oh...

Thanks, Dad.

Yeah. Look, I know it's going to be tricky
managing the line

between your career and mine,
but we'll work it out.

Because we're mates, right?

And mates are more important
than anything. OK?

Yeah. Thanks, Dad.

Yeah, don't mention it.

You don't mind if I still do some
filming for fan telly, though, eh?

Nah, nah. Whatever makes you happy.

Yeah.

Oh, maybe don't do any more videos where
you call the manager a cancer on the club.

Anything you want, mate.

So, was it Cesare himself who ordered you
to take the video down

or was it his lapdog Chris Booth?

Oh...

You're not...recording this,
are you, Dad?

Oh, I'll just turn that off.

There you are.

Tell you what, why don't we shoot
one video they can't complain about, eh?

Boys! Let's have a singsong. Come on.

He's one of our own

He's one of our o-w-wn

Jacky Turner

He's one of our own

- I'm one of their own
- (CHEERING)

I'm one of their own

Jacky Turner is one of our own!

Hey, hey! Say we want Cesare out

Say we want Cesare out

Say we want Cesare out

Say we want Cesare out

Say we want Cesare out

- Say we want Cesare out!
- (YELLING)

103.

Oh, no, wait. 104,000 likes.

Jack, what were you thinking?

I didn't want to let him down
in front of his posse.

Because a posse
must always be respected.

Thank you so much, Olivia.

I'll tell my mum to expect you.

Jack! Just the man I've been looking for.

Did you get my messages?

Yeah, no. What it was...

I couldn't... My phone...

...died.

Course it did. With me, please.

Morning, Olivia. Thanks for the advice.

I don't remember giving any.

It's all about the soul.

If you like.

Well, that's Jack fucked.

Told you international week was shit.

JACK: "...and obviously I'd like
to sincerely apologise to Mr Cesare,

"and to anyone else
for any offence caused.

"My father does not speak for me
or have any knowledge of..."

Oh, nah.

Just say it, Jack.

- Nah.
- Jack...

...your father is endangering your career.
Do you understand that?

You have to distance yourself from him

and say that he has no inside knowledge.

I can't. I can't, Olivia.
I can't say that.

But it's the truth. You haven't told him
anything. Come on, Jack.

It's all he's got, Olivia.

It's all he's got. So you can fine me,
loan me out, whatever,

but I can't do it to him.

I'm sorry.

And that's really all there is to it.

OK, I see.

Well, this is very helpful.

But I want to get it absolutely straight.

If it goes between the white stick things

but doesn't hit the string bag,
it still counts as a point?

- A goal.
- A goal. God dammit!

Right.
Well, what did you want to see me about?

I'm sure you're aware of all the
speculation surrounding Cesare's position.

Let's say I am.

Petey Brooks wants Cesare's job.

Mattie, this is exactly
what I've been looking for.

A snitch in the dressing room.

Oh, I'm not a snitch.
I'm just worried about the club.

Noted. Please continue snitching.

- I'm not a snitch.
- It's OK.

It's not like I'm wearing a wire
at the moment.

Let's call you an insider.

Look, even being an insider -
it's just not for me.

But there's one issue
I can't keep silent on.

And that's Petey Brooks.

Mr Dependable. A club legend.

No. Wrong.
Petey Brooks is a monster.

He respects no-one at this club,
least of all you.

Seriously?

He's psychotically self-centred.

Everything he does
is entirely motivated by bad faith.

Scary. You think you know
someone like Petey Brown...

- Petey Brooks.
- Who?

- His name's Petey Brooks.
- Is it?

Well, there you go. You think you know
someone, then they have another name.

Shocking.

Thank you, Mattie.
This is excellent snitching.

Also excellent timing. Petey's waiting
to see me as soon as we're done.

Of course he is. I know what he's up to.

I would advise that whatever he says,
you should do the opposite.

The exact opposite.

Thank you, El Snitchio.

Yeah. Yeah, OK.

We hear the rumours. We're not stupid.
And results haven't been good for a while.

But I'll tell you this.

Cesare is a legend.

And it takes one to know one.

I know he hasn't won much for years,
but he's still a winner.

He built this club.

And he's earned the right to choose
how and when he leaves here.

So your opinion is that
I shouldn't sack Cesare?

Absolutely not.

Don't sack Cesare.

Thank you, Petey.

Thank you, sir.

Danielle.

Could you call in Signor Cesare, please?
Thank you.

Hey, guys.

Thanks for waiting for me.

Now, I'm sure you've heard rumours
about Cesare while you've been away.

And it's... It's unsettling, right?

So, I'm here to put that uncertainty
to bed,

because if there's one thing
I know about this club,

it's that when the chips are down

we stick together.

Probably.

Hey, Petey, why don't you tell them
what you came

and told me about the boss earlier?

That Cesare is a stone-cold Eyetie legend
and we should all get behind him.

Oh, no, no. No, no, no.

Hear me out, Mattie. Just let me
finish. And it's what Petey said,

combined with a little advice
from my snitch in the dressing room,

which has convinced me
that I've made a great decision.

Sorry to go against your advice, Petey,

but I've sacked Cesare
as of four minutes ago.

- JACK: What?
- (PLAYERS EXCLAIM)

As Petey said to me,
Cesare deserves respect,

so I've decided to leak a story
that he's senile now

and couldn't even remember
to wear his pants to training.

OK? Have a great day.

And we'll probably announce
a caretaker manager soon.

As Cesare said to me...

(ITALIAN ACCENT) ..."Arrivederci.

"Now I have nothing."

Did you get Cesare sacked?

Yeah. Yeah, I did.

You weapon.

What are you doing, man?

Why did you say that stuff
to the chairman?

You wanted rid of Cesare! I know you did.

You're mistaken. And even if I did,
I wouldn't be the one to undermine him.

That stuff gets out,
fans turn on you for disloyalty.

You shoot at the king,
you better hit him in the face.

I think it's, "If you aim at..."

A smart person will let nature take
its course and then pick up the pieces.

Nature. It's not nature, is it?

- Isn't it?
- No.

You've got a lot to learn, mate.

A-L-O-T.

Alot.

And how long have they been there for?

It's been five days now.

...the line first.
That's why it's important.

You have to get them to move.

The neighbours think they are homeless.

Borat!

Do you want a little drink?
Petey won't mind.