Original subtitles

- Ah! Ah!

Ah!

- Edie!

- Ah!

- It's just a scratch.

- Come on.

Get up off your backside you big girl's blouse.

Run it off, man.

In my day, we would play through the pain barrier,

even with a broken leg.

Aye, sometimes two!

Right, come on, let's try this new three-hat formation!

- We're talking turbo-charged, 420 horses,

overhead lift cam with five valves,

a cylinder, electronic unit injectors,

a 23.5 ton capacity

with a 16-ton bogey axle rating

and full electronic suspension.

The Ferrari Testarossa of the bus world.

- And, uh, still no road tags, now?

- Right.

You take it, Barney.

God sake, what do you call that, boy?

The Dying Swan?

I thought you said, "Dive right."

- There'll be nobody tellin' ya

which way to dive on Saturday, boy.

It'll be just you and your intuition.

Get a life.

- What was that?

- I sense tension in the air twixt father and son.

- Don't you backchock me, lad.

You may double-time mortician

but on the shinty part you are just another,

as far as I'm concerned.

- Dad, it's just a shinty match.

- Just a shinty match?

This game goes back to the time of Christ, boy.

- Oh, here we go.

- For the past 400 years Loch Dubh has played Dunbracken

for the Angus McNichol Memorial Cup.

- And we haven't won for the last 19.

- Exactly.

And if they win it once more,

they get to keep the trophy.

But this is Loch Dubh.

We are Loch Dubhians!

Everything flows from that.

We're playing for our pride,

our village, our lives,

so don't you tell me it's just a match.

- Give us a break, Hamish.

I'm late for the shinty training.

- Shinty?

Mmm, you see it?

I'd put that about what?

85?

- Maybe 100, Hamish.

- See ya later, Neil.

Come on, Jock.

- You know, I think she's setting her cap at my dad.

- Lachie, son.

She wears knitted ties.

- Oh, I see.

- Winner?

- Aye.

Double or quits.

- Can I book a room?

- Certainly.

Through here.

Eh, will that be a single you'll be after?

- For the moment.

- Aye, it's healing fine.

- And where do ya think you're off to?

- We're on our way to the Stag for a pint.

- Oh, you're not, you're staying back for extra training.

- You know what you can do

with your extra training, don't you?

- That's it, you're dropped.

- You can't drop me, I quit.

Good!

- Lachlan, let's not be too hasty.

The team's more important than your arguments.

- I wouldn't play for him now

if he got down on his bended knees.

I'll get down on mine.

- Not yet, Rory.

You're dropped and that's that!

- What's happening?

- They're fighting like ferrets in a sack, Black Bob.

Oh, this is going to be a skoosh!

- What are you trying to do, Lachlan?

- Without Lachie, we'll lose.

That cup will become a permanent fixture

on Harry Balfour's bar,

and since they lost the singing contest,

they'll never let us live it down.

- Jubel, you're in goals, instead.

- Me?

- Lachlan, can I get a lift?

- Me in goals?

Me?

- What's it to be, boys?

.

What the hell is Macbeth up to?

- Nevermind him.

Come on.

And Dodgy John.

- Oh, he's good, but you can't

hold a candle to the old ones.

Do you remember the McKeon Brothers?

Six foot twins from Achmore

with only two good eyes between them.

- 18 games without defeat.

I never drunk once.

- Aye, well, it makes a change the Loch Dubh team.

No wins in the last 20 years and never sore.

- Hamish, sit yourself down.

We're having a consolation drink.

- For what?

- For the team getting beaten tomorrow.

- Our job is done, here.

Come on.

- I'm looking for a motorcyclist, actually.

- Alright.

Who's got my HT lead?

- You know, you should go easier on the boy, Lachlan.

- I know, you're right, Edie.

I say the same thing to myself again and again.

I just hear this voice inside, chomping at him.

- He's a fine boy.

- Well, maybe he needed a mother.

- What he needs now is space.

- You're right, Edie.

I know you're right.

Now, to the matter at hand.

You're off.

- So, I'd appreciate it if the traffic

in Mariott was kept below mach one,

you know what I mean?

- I'm terribly sorry, Constable.

I will moderate my speed.

- So, you're here on holiday, then?

- Actually, you might be able to help me.

I'm looking for someone.

- Mmm hmmm.

- Name of McCree, Mr. Lachlan McCree.

Do you know him?

- Yeah, yeah, I know him.

Uh, if you take the northland road,

first left, just cross right there, you can't miss it.

- Thank you.

- So would this be in the nature of a business matter?

- It would be more in the nature

of a private matter, Constable.

- I see.

Yeah, this is Bravo 3-1-5, over.

Bravo 3-1-5 go ahead, over.

- Yeah, can I have registered keeper ident

please on a red and black Honda CBR?

Stand by.

- That's really nice.

- Wait'll you try this.

Now, what do you make of that?

- It's marjoram?

- Mmm, close.

- A hint of coriander?

- Nope.

- Well, you've got me, then.

- Wild mountain thyme.

- Never.

Do you not have a problem with the bitterness?

- Oh, see, that's the beauty of it.

The sage takes that away.

- Oh.

- Here, let me cut you a wee bit.

What do you think?

- Hey Agnes, that's excellent.

- Try 'em on.

- Is that not bad luck?

- Oh, it's a shinty match, not a wedding.

- Lachie, Jr.

- I won't be needing one, Agnes.

I'm not playing.

- Are ya hurt?

- Him and his dad.

- Oh, come on, Lachie, Jr.

You're our star player.

These shirts cost us 50 squid a skull.

Now, I don't want failure

associated with this establishment.

- Not my problem.

As far as I'm concerned, the shinty team's history.

- Hey, Lachie.

A bit of news that might change your mind.

There, try this crowdy, here.

- You should be selling this stuff, you know.

- What, 'round here?

They'd rather have crinkle cut chips and frozen pizza.

Who on Earth can that be?

- Excuse me, are you fun filled, cuddly

land-owning gent seeks lady with tractor?

- I am.

- Well, I'm carefree, attractive 40-ish

lady farmer with 300 acres.

- Never.

- Yes, and I brought a photo of my tractor.

- Well, I'll away now, Lachlan.

I'll see ya tomorrow at the match.

- Drink up, boys.

The Loch Dubh mob are in turmoil.

- They might have got one over on us with the singin'.

This will be our comeback.

- Oh, yes.

And this time, the Angus McNichol trophy

will be ours

forever!

How are the scones?

- Lovely, just lovely.

- Good.

- And that's a lovely tractor, too.

50,000 miles you say?

And a full service history?

- And stored in the shed every night as well.

- You don't say?

Well, now.

- Now, girls, it's perfectly simple.

And, after four, one, two, three--

- Give us an L-O-C, oops.

- You've got to concentrate!

- There you have it, TV John.

Scotland's conundrum and microcosm.

Do we market shinty as a cozy, tartan

nostalgia chip for tourists or do we modernize it

and introduce professionalism?

- Could we not have both?

Give me an L-O-C-H.

Give me a D-U-B-H.

What do you got?

Loch Dubh.

- Can I have a word with you?

- Aye, in a minute.

- Oh, shut up!

- Oh, leave it then, I'm through.

- Nobody gets any of these until

the bus starts, at least.

How's the ankle, Jubel?

- Fine, fine.

- Jubel, I need to talk to you.

- Aye, okay.

- Can I speak to ya?

- I'll see ya on the bus, Hamish.

- Come on, Jock.

- Neil, Neil.

- Could we not have got a seat at the back?

- Sit in peace, man.

- Where's the tonic?

- I don't have the tonic.

Thought you had the tonic.

In the name of the wind.

- Didn't think you were comin'.

- I might not be playing, Hamish,

but I'm damned if I'm gonna miss the clack.

- What do you mean, you're late?

Late for what?

- Actually, it's handy that you're sittin' here, Doc.

- Oh, why?

- And then I thought, "Oh, I'll just sell the farm

"and enjoy myself with all the proceeds."

- Remarkable.

Quite remarkable.

- Lachlan.

Some of the team are drinking

and they were in the pub until three o'clock last night.

- Oh, youthful exuberance, Edith.

Sorry, Doloris, you were saying?

- So, when I saw you in Manfred...

- Well, that's that.

- You sort it?

- No, I haven't a clue, Hamish.

The D12A Euro.

Mind if I take a look?

Electronic unit injector.

- Aye.

- Well, there's nothing wrong with your microprocessor.

Pressure drop indicators functioning a-one.

- It's probably a glitch in the, uh, the bogey.

- I doubt it.

Ah!

Have you topped off your diesel?

- Try that.

- Could you go another mint imperial?

- Temptress.

- You ever thought of gettin' a motorbike?

- Barney, you are so predictable.

- It's like in a jungle house re-mix,

.

- Savich.

Now, Lachland, could we speak?

- Later Hamish, later.

- Well, say somethin'.

- It was kinda like a fist,

slowly opening and closing around my lower bowel.

- Really?

- Yes.

Oh, but that's nothing.

Wait'll I tell ya what happened next.

- Would you look at that?

The old fruit.

- Well, there might be snow on the drift,

doesn't mean there isn't any fire in the grit, lucky boy.

- Alright.

- Kinda makes you hanker bank for knitted ties.

- Knitted ties?

- Oh, come on, Hamish.

You're a man of the world.

Surely you understand the significance of knitted ties?

- No.

- Oh, well, just ask Barney there.

He'll tell ya all about it.

- Knitted ties?

- Ah!

Oh, my leg's gone to sleep!

- Are you needing a massage, Rory?

- Uh, no, no, no, it's grand, grand.

- Thought these were meant for the journey back.

- And when they finally got it out,

it was the size of a tennis ball.

Thanks for listening, Doc.

- Oh, that's stiff.

How 'bout going for a wee walk to stretch our legs?

- Ah, it's a right day for a walk.

- Hey, Lachlan, ya got a team talk in the dressin' room.

It's a shame to spoil it by staying inside.

- Lachlan, we need to speak.

John, John, John.

Go into the clubhouse and put your stuff there.

- Aye, mate.

What's your price on Dunbracken?

- Two to one on.

And Loch Dubh?

- Four to one against and lengthening.

- Can I put a tenner on Dunbracken?

- Dunbracken?

Oh.

Right.

- Oh, Jean.

Have you brought the things?

- They're in the hearse, for in the back.

- Can I tempt ya to have a look?

- Rory, you dropped your jock strap.

- Right.

- I seen that earlier.

I thought it was a parachute.

- Well, who's for the wintergreen?

- Where's the gaffer, Hamish?

- Oh, he's went for a walk with his new friend.

- He went for a walk?

We need him here.

- I know, I'm workin' on it.

John, John, listen get up in that house

and stop Lachlan before he makes

a complete fool of himself.

- It's a bit late for that, Hamish.

- You know, I've never noticed before

how lovely the waterfall here is.

Just sort of cascades down like,

like beautiful silver hair.

- Oh, Lachlan.

You say such beautiful things.

Lachlan!

You're needed down in the dressing room.

- What for?

You're the coach.

- Go on Lachlan, go.

- Hey, gentlemen.

Want to talk to you all about something

that men often have difficulty expressing in words.

Today, I want to talk to you

about love.

In the great scheme of things--

- This is worse than I thought, Edie.

Keep an eye on him.

- Right, Hamish.

- Alright, lads.

The huddle.

- Sorry, pal.

It's uh, our needs clearer than yours.

Go in the Stag Bar, Loch Dubh!

- It's the team you're meant to be supporting,

not the jerseys.

Product placement, John.

- Where's the referee?

- He's not here yet.

I'm the referee.

I'll run the match.

- Hang on, we need a neutral.

- A figure of authority.

- Macbeth.

Now, he's the man to referee it.

- Oddly enough, where is he?

- What the hell does he know about

running a shinty match?

- Anyway, he doesn't have a kit.

- Just so happens, I have.

- Oh, it's great how the hills all seem

like a big sleeping giant with purple hair on the top, eh?

- Lachlan, if you do not shut up, I shall hit you.

- Alright, then, I want a good,

clean match from the both of you.

- Well, get out of it.

- Okay, then.

Let's give these people a day they'll

actually be proud of.

- Whatever you say, Hamish.

- That's it lads.

- Come on, lucky goal, come on.

- Barney, block him next time.

- It was a good goal, Edith.

fair's fair.

Fair's fair.

- Ugh!

- It's only a game, Edie.

- Yah!

- That's the father of my child!

It's not the end of the world.

- How many fingers can you see?

I'll marry you, lassie.

I'll marry you.

- Seems pretty serious.

- Doesn't look like concussion.

- Halftime.

- Edie.

Gon on and tell Lachlan to get his mini short wave.

- Oh, now, you're doin' fine, boys.

It's never easy here, you know.

Hey, Lachlan, can I have a word?

- I was just tellin' the boys how much

I'm enjoying the match.

- Lachlan, I need to talk to ya in private.

- Anything you've got to say to me, Hamish,

you can say in front of my boys, here.

- I don't know.

The new love of your life is Doloris Pewdy.

- I know the woman's name, Hamish.

- Aye, but did you know that her maiden name was Balfour?

- Balfour?

- She's Harry Balfour's sister.

She set you up.

- They've been spying on us in the woods, too.

- What do you mean, set me up?

- They saw your advert in the paper.

- Anything to win the match for the 20th time in a row.

?

- No, it was all a con.

They even hired the motorbike.

- Did they?

Indeed.

Ah, nevermind, Lachlan.

You'll get over it.

- Aye.

No fool like an old fool, eh, boys, eh?

You might have told me a bit sooner, Hamish.

- I've been trying to talk to ya all morning.

Doesn't matter, it fits in with the plan, anyway.

- What plan?

- What are the odds on Loch Dubh Harry?

- Oh, are you kidding?

20 to one.

- Oy!

- Loch Dubh to Red Leader.

Loch Dubh to Red Leader.

Come in now.

- Hey, I've only one pair of hands.

- How many?

- Four?

Close enough, you'll do.

You're going nowhere.

This one's for the band.

He's stayin' here.

- Boy's not fit enough to play in goals, alright.

- He doesn't have to, Daddy.

- Why, junior.

You're not in on this plan, as well, are ya?

- No, I really was hacked off.

- I really was a bit too hard on ya, I suppose.

Oh, come here.

That's it, we're going to do it.

I know we are, I can feel it.

It's in the air.

- About time, too.

- Isn't that--

- No, it can't be.

He's on the rigs.

- No, no, you boys are nuts.

Ladies and gentlemen,

we've just been informed that Loch Dubh's

substitute has been registered, Houston Old.

- Duplicitous Loch Dubh dogs!

- Is that a bag thing?

Come on, boys, come on.

- Come on, come on.

Where is it?

Oh, God, it's got to be here!

Hey, that's never a penalty.

- Aye, it was.

- Aye, well you need your eyes tended--

- Aha!

I was wondering where this was.

- Oh, we don't have time for that!

- Come on, Loch Dubh, get into this, people!

- Welcome back, Lachlan!

- Come on, boys!

Penalties.

- Yow, ow!

- Yeah!

That's my boy that saved that!

- Stop!

He can't play for Loch Dubh!

He is from Kingussie!

- You're wrong!

He may be from Kingussie,

but his mother is from Loch Dubh.

Just belt it out, son!

Go! Go! Go!

- There's a dog on the pitch.

- He thinks it's all over.

- It is now.

- Oh, hey, some boy, that Houston.

You must be very proud of him.

- I am.

Did you know he's coming off the rigs next month?

- Is he, love?

- Mmm hmmm.

He'll be looking for a job.

He's actually looking for a business partner.

- Is that so?

Well, well.