All language subtitles for Montevideo, Bog te video[2010].en

The story goes...

Whoever manages to
juggle a raw egg... dies.

But he will also become
immortal and a legend.

God gave me everything.

I had my Mom...

My hardworking hands...

And one healthy leg.

What more do you need in life?

It was when I started
to like football,

That I realized
people sometimes need both legs.

When my Mom got sick, she said,

son, you must be strong,

it doesn't matter how you are born,

but how you live
and if you know how to dream.

There was nothing hinting
that 1930,

would be the year
when a dream was born.

But that's life, I guess.

You'd think
there'd be some order in life,

but sometimes, you experience the very
best of it while you're still a kid.

It was the first decade
of peace after the Great War,

that's what we called it,
it was the biggest one until then.

Belgrade was still recovering
from the years of war.

People were pulling down the old
in order to make room for the new,

believing, as they always do,
that there would be no more war.

MONTEVIDEO
Taste of a Dream

What's this?

I could've done this myself.
Bang, slam!

Couldn't this be done
a little differently?

-Differently, how?
-Now what?

What am I supposed to do
with the bricks!

A new house, new material.
Concrete.

Shoe-shining, sir?

Easy...

Aleksandar Tirnanic, Tirke.

The best player I knew.

Until that day,
I was the only who knew that.

Ever since
I was left alone in the world,

he was my guardian,
and my only true friend.

Tirke!

Easy, neighbor,
you 're scaring my customers away!

Tirke, don't ask for trouble,
I'll tell your mother, I swear.

-Go play with that ball in a field!
-I'm not going to no field!

Take me to the BSC
(Belgrade Sport Club)!

Master Rajko was a good
man with a good reputation.

Listen you rascal,
do you know what the BSC is?

He was a big supporter of the BSC.

BSC is the greatest club
in this country.

Holy smoke!

Yeah, if it weren't for FC
Yugoslavia...

Don't listen to
Rajko's baloney, Tirke.

Get a job first,
Make your mother happy.

Then I'll get you into the
'Yugoslavia'.

From 'Great Serbia'
to 'Yugoslavia', overnight.

Traitors.

Shame on you, lying to kids...

Barber Bogdan loved everything
that was new and trendy,

guess that's why he was
a big fan of FC Yugoslavia.

Football was just starting
to be fashionable,

and fashion is a risky thing
for us Serbs.

Not because we like fashion,
but because we like to fight.

Tirke was like a son
to both of them.

Serves you right!

Old men, been through
the Great War together,

fighting over a children's game!

Tirke's dad was in the war as well.

But he didn't survive it,
He died in his best friends' arms.

This boy has yet
to give us trouble...

Hey, what does that guy do?

He's a master.

-A master of what?
-A master of football.

I'll take the ball away!
Go find a field!

I'll go to Hungary to play football,
and you can stay here in the dark.

-No, no, no!
-No, don't!

Let's have a drink.

Stanislav,
get the electrician.

Give him this.

Tell him to come
to the BSC stadium at noon.

Sir, what about the other shoe?

Good news, gentlemen.

Great news.

Does that mean FIFA
decided to support the Serbs

in the football war
against the Croats?

Jules Rimet and FIFA made
a historical decision.

Sorry I'm late.

The first football world cup
will be organized soon.

World Cup?
What do football clubs get from that?

Football will get a lot from that,
gentlemen. Right, Mr. President?

The Croats won't send their best
players during the championship.

I'm only just beginning to
cope with the FC 'Yugoslavia'.

Football history
is being written in Uruguay.

That's at the end of the world,
who'll go there?

-We are.
-Us?

Jules Rimet is counting on us.

You can count on us Serbs for each new
and foolish thing that comes up.

Football was still young.

Back then, it wasn't the rich
running on the pitch,

watched by us poor folk,
but the other way round.

I'll skip practice today.

Look at all this work.

This is a prison.

-I think it's time for some action.
-What action, Milutinac?

Organized action,
individuals can't do anything alone.

Watch out.

We'll be organized
in beating the BSC on Sunday.

I mean real action, for God's sake.

What are we waiting for?

Mulutinac, communism is
beyond the law, get it?

-But not beyond reason!
-Ok, what do you suggest?

Plotting against the state again?

I'm not plotting.

-How did you know I was here?
-Get in. I'm taking you to town.

Off for some action without us,
Milutin?

We'll talk.

Kid, is he going to be there?

Don't know, he didn't pay me
for that one shoe yet.

-Can I come to the BSC with you?
-Quiet!

-Can I come to the BSC with you?
-Quiet!

Mother,
do you have the water for luck?

I've flung water after you many
times but it never brought good luck.

Come on,
try and get the job.

-It's a good factory, good wages.
Yeah, working only ten hours a day.

Let me see...

Good as new.

BELGRADE SPORT CLUB -the BSC

Mosha Marjanovic.

Holy moly, it's Mosha!

He was great even
when football was small.

Rumor had it, he got paid
one hundred dinars for every goal,

but they also say
that he was always in debt.

We'll play against
'Gradjanski', 'Hajduk'.

We haven't scored a single goal
in the last 3 matches.

-I told the players.
-Why didn't you offer them a bonus?

Where from, did you bring the money?

Sorry, that's the reason why I called
the boy to come in for a trial.

Boza, a trial right before the derby?
Who does that?

Yes.

Come in, Tirke, go on.

Hello.

Bozha the engineer invited me.

That's Tirke, I called him in.

Bozha, is the other one here
for a trial as well?

-No, that's Stanoje, he's...
-I'm the lucky charm.

Ah, the lucky charm.

Young man, do you play football?

-I do.
-Where do you play?

In my street, in my neighborhood.

-Which club, I mean...
-...apart from your neigbourhood.

Bozha, where did you see
the young man play football?

In the street.

In the street?

Let's not waste time,
get him to come after the derby.

Go to the youth sports' club.
Bozha, we run a serious club here.

You think so, Bozha?

I think so.

-Bozha the Dunce is thinking.
-Zivkovic....

You got your gear, young man?
-We do.

Fine.
I'll give you five minutes.

You should leave football.

It takes up too much of your time.

I'll graduate, and you'll still be
in the third year. Then what?

Us defensive players
are a little slow.

-You really mean it?
-I do, yes.

Maybe you're right.

I'll play just this last derby.

Only kings are free in Serbia!

Look at this, you're going
to the world championship.

What are you talking about?

There, it says here,
Montevideo, holy smoke!

They say
those South American girls are...

Hey, let's go eat.

Aca, son, wait for me here, please.

Boys, this is Tirnanic
from the neighborhood.

He's a good boy, we've heard many
nice things about him.

He's come here for a try-out.

Go on, Tirnanic, join in.

Ballerina, coming in the middle
of practice again?

I wish I were just an apprentice or
a student, like most guys here.

Change and get in there, go on.

My boss doesn't let me go to
either exams or training.

The bastard doesn't give a damn
about university and football.

What's your position, pal?

Right-winger.

Right-winger, you're kidding!

Mosha, start looking for a new club.

Or move to the left wing?

You could be a midfielder too.

Tough kid.

Let's play some ball,
see what you can do.

Who's a dunce now?

What's the matter,
anyone going to guard me?

Vampire, cover him!

Be gentle, Vampire!

Am I not always?

What's that, holy smoke?

Now the left... and the heel.

You think you'll get in the BSC
by shaming the other players?

That's not the way to do it, kid.

What do you make of the guy, Mosha?

He's good for a right-winger,
but that position's already taken.

Tirke, you were great,
they'll take you, you'll see.

Shut up, it's good they
didn't beat me up.

A factory's the only place for me.

Yeah, so you screw up your entire
life.

You're not for a factory, Tirke!

You're not!

Most players are sparrows.

Only the great ones are pigeons.
A pigeon flies alone.

Honestly, Tirke, I doubt it.

Zivkovic is against it
and so is the rest of the team.

Mosha left without a word,
you saw it yourself.

All right, Radoje.

Radoje really likes football.

Fine, Radoje, we'll do that later.
Tirke will think I'm nuts.

Maybe you should ask Andrejevic,
he might know something.

What do you think?

Who cares about the opinion of a man
called Bozha the Dunce?

His dribbling is good, he shoots well.

-That guy Pirke.
-It's Tirke, from Tirnanic.

He'd be very useful in the derby
against the FC 'Yugoslavia'.

He doesn't know his manners.
-No one cares about his manners.

What if the bastards from
the Yugoslavia get him first?

Then we're in trouble.

Girls! Nosey, go get some chairs.

-I'm not Nosey, I'm Djokica.
-Whatever.

Hi girls.

I've brought the best of the BSC.
Led by Mosha.

-Good evening.
-Good evening.

-Please, have a seat.
-We're used to something more classy.

-Please, have a seat.
-We're used to something more classy.

I'm fed up with classy places.

And they won't let us in there
anyway.

Girls, how about
I take you out for some fun?

-Where?
-I don't know, ladies...

How about the Jockey Club?

See you around, boys.

But girls, we had a date here!

-Who is this?
-Rada Pashic, a real son-of-a-bitch.

Son-of-a-bitch or not,
he'll get some tail...

-...and we can talk about football...
-No we won't, let's go.

-Go where, Mosha?
-You heard the man, Jockey Club.

-That's for gentlemen!
-We'll need some hats then.

There they are.

Bring drinks for the girls
to our table.

-Good evening.
-Good evening.

Aca, son...

It's just a job.
You'll find something.

Your father was a great soldier.

This belongs to you now.

Keep it and be proud of him.

What a nice boy.

Want to try to kick the ball, kid?

How do you say in your language,
kick the ball?

Shoot.

Shoot, shoot the ball.

Aca, my son...

-Are you ok?
-I'm fine, mother.

Hey, neighbor, how are you?

When will you come visit us?

-Maybe, some other time.
-What a pity.

What are you doing?

-Can't sleep.
-Me neither.

Have we met before?

I know,
your picture's on an ad for soap.

You use soap?

I use the one with the picture on it.
That's how I know you.

Could you step away for a bit?

As far as you can.

Allow me...

It's got to be done
a little more gently.

Hey Valeria, let's go play roulette.

In a minute...

Hurry up.

You never told me your name.

Blagoje.

A peasant's name.
Blagoje or Blagoja?

They call me Mosha, Mosha Marjanovic.

-And you?
-Valeria.

Just like a soap ad.

Good evening, come in.

Mr. Riboli, glad you could make it,
have a seat.

We were expecting
the head coach as well.

Former head coach, gentlemen.

He asked me
to pass on his letter of resignation.

Ante Pandakovic, former head coach?

-Is it always this lively here?
-Yes.

The head office
of the football federation

was illegally moved
from Croatia to Serbia.

Until this is resolved, our boycott
of the national team stays.

That's our official position.

-Is a compromise possible?
-That's not for me to decide.

But you do have
some influence, right?

Mr. Riboli, we need five
Croatian players straight away.

As long as the boycott is on,
our players will not take part.

They don't have to play, just have an
audience with the king.

We're raising funds for the world cup.

-I hope we can negotiate that?
-I don't know, old boy.

We have a saying, don't go to Belgrade
to negotiate. If you have to go...

-Go and party.
-Wisely put and quite true.

One negotiates better
while having a good time.

I mean, when you're relaxed.

I know a place.

Zivkovic...

A footballer, then.
Your legs must be full of bruises.

What do you do?

I paint and shock the bourgeoisie
whenever I get the chance.

How are you with bruises?

Should've shown up earlier,
footballer.

These venues have become
boring like hell.

The whole town is dying of boredom.

I've told you before,
don't tell me off.

-Sorry.
-When I put...

Valeria, we'll miss the party.

You go on,
the footballer will give me a lift.

On his back, I presume.

The T-model Ford, the latest one.

The latest...

Bragging about your car is what
a poor man does, remember that.

You're cute.

Blagoje.

What did I tell you, Mr. Riboli!

Fantastic!

-I'm not in an offside position, am I?
-By no means.

I don't want a referee waving
a flag at me, right?

I'm the referee here.

Mr. Riboli, we're getting closer
to an agreement, right?

Mr. Riboli, we're getting closer
to an agreement, right?

You'll give us five players?

Mihalic, Kunst, Agic,
Pavelic and Praunsberger.

Cheers, sir.

Cheers.

It's like this every night.

You know, Tirke, I can't sleep from
all this love.

Everyone says love is beautiful, but

no one says there's
so much screaming involved!

That's not love.

-It's not?
-Nah.

Oh, good.

I've decided I won't have any of it.

And you?
Have you done it?

No.

I'm waiting for true love.

So you won't have to pay
like these guys here. That's clever.

-Can I come up?
-No.

I'm not in the mood tonight.

Good night.

The football scum
hangs out at the Kasina?

Yes.

Get the boys ready.

Radoje!

Rajko.

I'm looking for Radoje.

Radoje!

-Who's Radoje, is that your son?
-No, it's a pigeon.

High-flying,
white as snow, a real beauty.

I searched the whole town,
not a hint of him.

-Maybe some cat scared him.
-It happens.

There he is.

Radoje!

-This guy won't get far.
-Come on.

I saw this in a circus once.

He crashed down to the ground
after three steps.

This is the last time
I consent to your methods.

My methods? You're the one who wanted
to go to the world cup.

With what?
I have no players.

-We just took care of that!
-I have no money.

-We've never had any money.
-There's no head coach. Nothing!

And on top,
you're making a fool of me here.

You know what your problem is,
Andrejka?

You want everything to be ideal.

-Is that a bad thing now?
-Well, nothing is ideal.

You want me to invent
a head coach for you? Some genius?

We don't need a genius, we need
something close to that. A lunatic!

Someone with nothing to lose. What we
need is someone who's really lost.

And it won't hurt if he knows
something about football.

But you'll never find that.

Oh, Radoje...

I found him.

Good morning.

Radoje the pigeon,
I trained him myself.

The morning edition of 'Politika'.
Read it here!

Kingdom of Apes in Africa!

Go on, run, run!

Excuse me...

Is this Belgrade?

-What's wrong with her?
-Why would anything be wrong?

Because they sent her to me
to marry her off.

Is she ugly, fat, crazy?

You're crazy you know!

Clever she's not,
that's your family tradition,

tell me what's wrong with her.

You're breaking my heart.

Here's some ice, master Rajko.

-Who's the barber running away from?
-Fool!

Bogdan, let the children be,
you're mad anyway.

Teachers are not teaching you well.
Man didn't originate from an ape,

he derives from a bear,
you have a good example there.

You're my friend, but you're
a fool. Djurdja, take this.

I'm not taking anything from you!

It's ice, you crazy woman,
it'll melt!

Rajko, your guest is here.

Here I am, uncle.

Is auntie here?

-Rosa?
-Auntie!

What should I do with these things?

-Whose things?
-Rosa's.

That's not Rosa.

That can't be her.

People, this can't be serious.
This is a disaster.

We don't have anything,
that's not appropriate!

Not to mention that we don't have
any money for the trip.

We don't have the Croats.

Thanks to Mr. Zivkovic, we'll have
some players from Croatia

at the King's ball with us tomorrow.

That will be the start of our
preparations for the world cup.

Not only that, gentlemen.

He managed to find us a suitable
opponent for the preparations.

Which national team did you
manage to find, Mr. Zivkovic?

-Which national team?
-Yes.

The national team of...

-Bulgaria?
-There, gentlemen.

Mr. President, we can notify
Bulgaria that we accept?

-Ok, call the Bulgarians.
-Where's our head coach then?

Suggest something,
we're in a terrible situation.

We've never been worse off.

Gentlemen, we clearly need
someone who'll cost us nothing.

-There is no such thing!
-Get serious, that doesn't exist.

Andrejka, you're out of your mind.
I've never seen you like this.

I'll prove you wrong.

Mr. Boshko, please.

Gentlemen, our new head coach,
engineer Boshko Simonovic.

Good Lord.

Give it here.
Come on, I'm over here!

Come on gimpy, pass us the ball.

Tirke, how are you?

Show me the trick with your feet?

Good morning.

Good morning neighbor.

A double shot.

So young, and drinking already.

It's coming.

-Here you are.
-Thank you.

Many important heads
had come to this neighborhood...

But never a foot more important

than the one that came that day.

In brand new Italian shoes.

Go on, polish.

Ok, ok.

Latest Ford model?

Yes.

What are you doing in my street?

What's up, dandy boy?
You did your best to eliminate me?

Listen kid, I won't pretend to like
you, because I don't.

You think Mosha will punch him?
-Shut up, you idiot.

If someone plays football like you,
I don't even have to like him.

Are you interested in being
the right-winger of the FC BSC?

Not sure.

I'm thinking of going
to Hungary to play football.

Hungary, yeah, right.

Haven't considered a French team?

-I hear they're short of players.
-Not a bad idea.

Listen,

if I didn't have money problems, you'd
still be chasing a rag ball here.

Right-winger.

Take it.

-Could Stanoje help out?
-Who?

He's my lucky charm.

Thank God I don't have a steady
girlfriend, you'd want her, too.

So be it!

Can we get something to drink here,
to celebrate?

I'll do it.

-Mosha, Tirke can do the raw egg.
-He's lying to you, kid.

Only the Hungarian guy
could do that.

But he died right after that.

And that's how

the greatest duo in the history of
Serbian football came to be.

The names of Mosha and Tirke were
always pronounced together,

solemnly somehow, with respect.

-New football boots, Tirke!
-Originals.

-Let me see.
-You 'll see them tomorrow.

Aca, son, come here a bit.

The gentleman came to have a chat with
you. Introduce yourself.

-Mane the tailor.
-Aleksandar.

Sit down.

If you leave the right impression,
the gentleman might hire you.

You'll become a man,
make your mother proud.

That's right.
You could become a good tailor.

But I don't want to be a tailor.

-Aca, son, don't.
-Threads and needles are not for me.

Tirke, is it true what these
scoundrels are saying?

I can't believe it.
Mosha was here?

Leave us alone, we have
more important things here.

Mosha is more important.
Is it true or not?

-Mosha was here, yes.
-Mosha was where?

-Who's Mosha?
-Mosha was here, fine.

This gentleman is here,
we're discussing serious matters.

Why didn't you keep him here?
Did he just turn up?

-He came to tell me I've been accepted.
-Accepted where?

-To the BSC.
-Accepted where?

-What's the BSC?
-BSC?

-The juniors?
-No.

I don't understand what's going on!

-What are you doing at BSC?
-Where else?

I'd take him to the FC 'Yugoslavia'.
Soon, he'd be playing the first team.

-What?
-I'm playing with the BSC on Sunday.

-On Sunday?
-The derby.

-Shame on you.
-Our Tirke will play in the derby!

The gentleman came here... Shame on you.
You set it up, shame on you too.

Bogdan!

Bogdan, wait, let's have a drink!
It's our Tirke.

Ah the fool. Tirke will play with
the BSC on Sunday, people!

-Well done.
-Well done, Tirke!

Djurdja, give everyone
a drink... Rosa!

I pray to you, god almighty,
who sees and knows everything.

Hear my prayer and let us beat this
BSC tomorrow.

Just so you know, Lord, BSC players
are very ethical and religious people.

If at all possible,
let us beat them 5-0.

They're much greater believers than
this scum from the 'Yugoslavia'.

Therefore, give them strength,
oh Lord, to win tomorrow.

There were a lot of holidays back then:

Union Day, the King's Name Day,
St. Vitus day, Christmas and Easter.

The feast of St. Nicholas
was celebrated the most,

but there was only one feast
for me, a football feast.

The Derby... BSC vs Yugoslavia.

Mother, will you scatter some water
after me for good luck?

You want to watch the match?
I have a ticket for you.

Someone has to stay home and work.

God created Sundays for men,
not women.

-Hello, Tirke.
-Hello.

Tirke, score a goal, won't you?

Make our neighborhood proud!

Good morning, uncle Bogdan.

-Be brave, neighbor.
-Thanks, neighbor.

-Good luck, boy.
-Thanks.

Tirke, come here.

All right, enough.

Turn the radio up so we
don't hear what they're saying.

I was watching you and became
a little sad.

When I went to war,
I had my father.

-To tell me a thing or two.
-I'm not going to war.

It's war alright.

Your father didn't live to see this
day, he died in my arms.

You've already had a drink or two.
-I've been drinking since yesterday.

I'll give you advice my father gave me
when I went to war.

Good morning.

Wait, I've got something for you,
wait here.

-Working hard?
-A little.

And you?
Where are you off to this early?

-To war.
-What war?

-Will you be sorry if I get killed?
-No, really, what war?

Football war, I'm playing for the BSC.
Ever been to a match?

Would you come, for good luck?

Rosa, sort this out, go on.

-Listen, we wrote Mosha a letter.
-What letter?

A love letter.

-I didn't write it.
-Get away!

You'll give it to him.

-He's not married?
-Not as far as I know.

-There, I'll do it for him.
-But you're already married.

Fool, just you give him this,
it's all written there.

Go on.

Wait,
I didn't give you some fatherly advice.

-Kick their asses.
-Thanks, Rajko.

-Good day, gentlemen.
-Hello, Mosha.

-Ready for a new victory?
-No, Ballerina is taking a shower.

I'm the only footballer who has
to shower before a game.

-Fucking factory!
-Kid...

What are you?
A tailor or a footballer?

I'll know in an hour and a half.

-Is that tweed?
-It's English.

If I don't score today,
I'll be making those.

If I don't score, I'm bankrupt.

-And if you do score?
-Then I'll be wearing them.

A ticket.

-Got tickets?
Yes, chief.

That's it, men, cultured
is the thing. Follow me.

Good day, chief.

All right, let's go.

Rajko, I've been keeping
a seat for you.

-Thank you.
-Don't mention it.

Get in already!
Go on!

-Good day, sports officials.
-Commissioner.

-What a pleasant scene, a full stadium.
-Yes, lovely.

The king has prohibited
public gatherings,

so I have to say
I don't like this one bit.

He prohibited political rallies,
this is football.

That's all fine, until they start
chanting against the king and country.

-Here you are.
-What's that?

-Champagne.
-Take that away, get me a slivovitz.

BSCers, we'll establish
a dictatorship upon you!

Right?

Our king didn't create it for nothing...

What's with that drink,
Zivkovic?

Hello?
Studio, can you hear me?

I can't hear you, hello!

God help us.

Hello?
Studio, can you hear me?

-We can hear you.
-Oh, so you can hear me.

I can hear you too, very well.

Like on the phone, yes.
Are we starting?

Oh, we're on the air?
I didn't know that.

Good afternoon dear listeners.

The players of both teams
are coming onto the pitch

in front of the crowded stadium
of the Belgrade Sport Club.

Tirke, Tirke!

That's my best friend!

I hear you're not
the right-winger today.

No, we have a new one, Tirke.
Fast as lightning.

Welcome to the derby, boy.
Nervous?

I won't be,
when I slip it between your feet.

-Tough, eh?
-Tough.

I'll guard him today, as a welcome
gift. You're mine.

You're mine too.
Should we kiss now?

Too early to start
monkeying around, boy.

Good luck, kid.

Look at Mosha, there.
He's the most handsome, right?

Others are good-looking too.

Why so rough?
Go on, play.

Are you sorry
Milutin is leaving football?

-It's not like I don't care.
-I know, Jaksa, but it's time.

We have to think about the future.

The match is getting heated up.

The 'Yugoslavia' is on the attack,
it's a good chance,

but one of the BSC players, talented,
people say, Tirnanic...

Rajna, come over here, we can listen
to the match together.

I don't have time for that
foolishness.

Come here please!

Here...

Let's listen to it together.

Oh man, you're younger, get up when
you see me coming!

Tirke!

We're following an excellent play
by the Yugoslavia players,

there's a nice chance!

Just over the crossbar.

Let's have some objectivity here,
this was way up in the clouds!

This is the very first
radio broadcasting of a sports event

please have understanding
if there are any difficulties.

The Yugoslavia players' grief for
this missed chance is indeed great.

Let's go, let's go!

Goal!

-Well done, Mosha.
-Well done Tirke, well done Mosha!

Some people play football,
some people score goals.

This is what the defense...

Go fuck a duck!

I'm sorry, Mrs. Rajna, I really am.

-Congratulations.
-Mosha, Mosha.

-Was that my Aca who scored?
-He didn't score, he passed the ball.

Same thing, isn't it?

Not the same, but never mind.

Ten dinars says,
twice through the feet.

-Now the left...
-Play football, boy.

The heel!

Watch out, first time.

-Holy smoke!
-What are you doing, Ivkovic?

Milutinac, slap those Commies
of yours, not us.

Calm down, gentlemen!

-This is an outrage.
-What did he do that for?

Ivkovic, leave the pitch.

Well done, referee!

What's this Tirnanic? Football is
not a circus, this is a scandal!

-But he slapped him.
-So? Ivkovic is not just anyone.

He's so wicked.

-What?
-Oh, nothing.

Arsenijevic, watch Luburic,
he passed you at least ten times.

If we win, we'll play
against the Croats.

-Who's Luburic?
-He passed you ten times.

We can be the champions of
Yugoslavia, unless this Mundial...

Come on now!

Watch out, no rushing.
Come on, people.

Did you write me a check?
For the goal?

A check! Get out of here.

Tirnanic, you stay.

Don't worry sir, we'll score two more.

At least.

What you did to Milutinac shows you're
already a great player,

but not a great man.

Sometimes that's all that counts, son.

Go, play ball.

And remember,
this is a gentlemen's game.

The referee's rash decision has weakened
the 'Yugoslavia team...

Bogdan, can you show me
where the match is?

Good afternoon, dear listeners.

Here we are at the foot of the ancient
walls of the Belgrade fortress,

that, I am certain, recall even the
arrival of the Roman legions.

Hey, it's not a history lesson...

The Huns, the Avars, the Moors,
the Goths and the Visigoths as well.

All these people came here to watch
my son? The world's gone mad.

-Good afternoon.
-Good afternoon.

It's here, ma'am.
When did you get here?

-How could they score a goal on us?
-Be quiet and sit down.

-Did you hear?
-What?

We're in the lead, 1-0.

Did she see?

Yes.

-And she left?
-Yes.

I embarrassed both myself and her.

Whilst in the first part of
the game the rays of sunlight

awakened the sweetest
sentiments in men,

the colors of the sky
have become dimmer now.

Move, man.

-The chilly wind from the Danube...
-This isn't the weather forecast!

A goal is hanging in the air.

The chilly wind from the Danube creeps
into the bones of us all.

Kustudic, let me do my commentary
and kindly go fuck yourself.

When a Roman historian was once asked
what the doom of mankind was,

he replied that
the world was one big arena...

-Tirke!
-My poor son, they're massacring him!

-Referee, protecting circus artists?
-Go over there!

Scumbag, want me to send you
straight back to your mountain?

Gentlemen! Let's not embarrass
ourselves. Free kick.

It's alright Rajna, he's fine.

They can't let him pass, it's
football, they have to cut him.

Kick, go on, go on, kick!

Goooal!

Well done Tirke!

You're great, Bozha, you're great.

Ah, my dead friend,
if only you could see this.

What's the matter Rajna?

Neighbor, I don't know
whether to laugh or cry.

He's always been a sad boy, ever since
his father got killed.

And now, look at him.

That's because the goalie
doesn't know shit.

Rajna, it's all right.

What's the matter, referee?

So, BSC vs Yugoslavia 2-0.

Bora Jovanovic and my colleague
Djordje Kustudic were with you today.

Get the fuck off!

Stay out of it, kid,
I'll show you how it's done.

Pirate, kick this one.

Well, not quite like this.

Fuck this, this is like working three
shifts in a row, not playing football.

This is for you.

-What is it?
-A letter.

-Not a bill?
-No, a love letter.

Really?

It's not scented,
they usually put perfume.

-Who's it from?
-From Rajko, our local innkeeper.

-Rajko is sending me a love letter?
-It's his niece, really.

What's she like?

-She's fine.
-Fine.

Really fine.
She came to Belgrade recently and...

And she's already in love?
Belgrade is a miracle.

I don't know if she's in love.

-Read the letter.
-I will, later, perhaps.

What?

Want to come to Rajko's inn
this evening?

I can't, sorry.
Got a date.

We'll party all night,
I'm bringing the boys.

I'd like to, but I can't.

Women will be the death of me.
Maybe I'll drop by later.

You were good today.

-Bye, guys.
-Bye, Mosha.

She says she doesn't want to see you.

She can tell me that herself.

She told me to tell you she doesn't
want to see you.

-I just want to explain.
-What's to explain?

She says you embarrassed her
for the rest of her life.

Really, Milutinac, it's a shame.

2-0!

Milutin...

Don't explain anything,
just come in.

Come on, give me the letter back
and take me to this exhibition.

Spectacular, a marriage proposal!

You peasants are so sweet.

-Let's go!
-Where to?

To get you married, handsome.

-Tomorrow.
-Come on, bridegroom.

-Cheers!
-Cheers!

Ever been to the cinema?

-Rajko won't let me.
-Rajko?

I'm in the BSC now.

Rajko would give anything for the BSC,
his house and his inn, all of it.

-Are you talking about Mosha?
-Him and nothing else, uncle.

You're so naughty!

I'm only like that
because I have to be.

You didn't finish school?
-What for? I can play football.

Only football?

I know my women too.

See, you're really naughty,
if you know everything about women.

I don't know everything.

I've never kissed one.

And you?

-What?
-Have you ever kissed someone?

That's why I thought
we should go to the cinema.

To kiss?

No, so you can see how to do it.

They do it in the movies, you know.

They close their eyes like this, and then...

Mosha!

I think it's here.

Too bad
I didn't bring my galoshes.

Rosa!

Mosha, this is Rosa,
my niece from the country.

-And you are?
-I'm Blagoje's chauffeur.

-Go over there.
-He's funny.

Mosha.

Have a seat,
the refreshments are coming.

My uncle keeps talking about you.

He says the number one man of Belgrade
is the King, and then you.

There's just one better than me.

That's Tirnanic.
Cheers, Tirke!

Cheers!
Cheers, boys!

Better than you?
Blagoje, what's the matter with you?

He is better.

We're all scoundrels,
and he only pretends to be like us.

He's a pure soul.

Yes, until he runs into temptation.

-He'd resist it.
-Go on, play something.

-No one can resist real temptation.
You don't know him, so shut up.

Maybe I could get to know him better.

Tirnanic, your father was a charger
too, but he was on the right side.

There,
again I thought I was dreaming.

And that it had all come true.

My best friend Tirke played for the BSC,

and even scored the winning goal.

-May I ask for a dance?
-I don 't know how to.

I'll teach you, it's easy.

But he looked like he was unhappy.

Some women appeared.

Can I ask the lady for a slow dance?

Get off, moron.

Kid.

Tirke!
Where are you going?

Thanks for the goal.

Tirke!
Tirke, wait!

What's the rush?

Is it true what
they say about the raw egg?

Whoever juggles it dies?

That's what they say.

Tirke, are we living in vain?

What do you mean?

Well, we come and we go.

Our legs hurt and we're never happy.

Why are we living, is it worth it?

Good night.

I knew quite a bit about life
and everything about football.

It's just these women and this love,
I had no clue about that.

Good morning.

So, is it true what the girl
says, the King and then me?

You men have such high opinion of
yourselves.

Is that me?

No.

This is crap.

This is shit, completely amateur.

Didn't you have
a nice time last night?

Nice?

Nice is an esthetic category.

There is no such thing as nice sex.
It can be either good or bad!

-I don't talk about love like that.
-You're talking about love...

You have no idea about love!

That friend of yours is in love.
That boy.

-Tirke?
You and your brutish nicknames.

You didn't notice
how you broke his heart?

Broke his heart?

I made him a member of the BSC,
I set him up for a goal!

Could you please give him this?

You want me to carry your letters?

He brought one for you too.

You didn't mind then?

Go on, go train.

-Hello, people.
-Hey, Mosha.

How are you, kid?

What's the matter with him?

-That thing from last night.
-What thing?

What thing?
The little waitress.

You were all over her, like a rash.

-He asked me to meet her!
-I don't know, you guys sort it out.

Are you upset about something?

-Mind your own business.
-What's it about?

Leave me alone!

You gave me that letter.

Yes I did, and you showed me
what kind of a man you are.

-You want me to slap you?
-Go on.

Next time you'll get it in the head.

You pup.
-And what are you then?

I'm a fool, that's what I am.

And there's a letter for you,
if you can read at all.

Only, my girls put perfume on letters.

Mosha, good afternoon.

-I brought the tickets.
-What tickets?

For the cinema.
For Rosa and you.

Rosa! Leave me alone, man,
women will be the death of me.

Mosha, I have no one,
no brothers, no children.

I have Djurdja, you saw her,
she's my wife and I have Tirke.

-Tirke's like a son to me.
-Tirke?

That rascal should be taught
some manners.

He is a rascal, but you saw Rosa.
I have nothing to say. Here...

All right.
I'll be there.

You can come earlier, no problem.
Quarter to seven? She'll be waiting.

Some people say women are
the road to happiness.

But I don't believe them.

Mosha.

If women are the road to happiness...

Rosa, listen to him.

Then it's a very long road indeed.

Sorry to keep you waiting.

You keep going on
about that fucking football.

You've neglected everything else.

What do the papers say,
will I live or should I run away?

I'm afraid...

You'll live to be a hundred.
You have the blood of bandits.

Fuck you, son-in-law,
you scared me to death.

-Just go easy on whiskey and cigars.
-Oh, really?

I don't need to live a hundred years.

But you should go easy on this
football of yours

and make me a granddaughter.

-I want to live to see that.
-Don't worry about grandchildren.

No? You're getting ready
for a long journey.

Montevideo or whatever.
The end of the world.

Who's to pay for that?
Me again?

I hope His Majesty will.

The King invited us to a reception,
I thought I'd ask him for money then.

Clever.

The King should open up his wallet
a little. He's snatched enough.

In this country, they won't even let you
get rich in peace.

Donate for hospitals, give for
endowments, this shit or that.

Where from and for how long?!

Doctor,
there's another patient waiting.

Schedule them for tomorrow,
unless it's urgent.

I'm afraid it is.

Milutinac, what happened?
Sit down.

-Are you alright?
-I'm fine. No need to sit down.

Thank you, nurse.
What happened?

I'm leaving football, sir.

I thought it would be
in order to tell you first.

I'm getting married.

I have to finish university,
we'll be colleagues.

Football and family
don't go together.

But why now?

I wanted to ask you out for a drink,
the boys are downstairs, waiting.

You can't pass up a drink,
professor.

Should we wait for you?

No.

-And best of luck to you.
-Thank you.

I knew you'd come.

Look at him, all dressed up.

Take me away from here,
I'm having a fit of terminal boredom.

What was that place called,
'Cantina'?

-Kasina.
-Take me there.

To my best man Milutin.

-To the FC Yugoslavia.
-To the FC Yugoslavia!

Yugoslavia signed an agreement with
the court in the Hague!

They're so annoying.

-Good evening, boys, how are you?
-Good evening.

To Milutinac the football player,

but also a future doctor and father,
Milutin Ivkovic.

-That's it!
-Cheers!

This country has plenty of
doctors and paper pushers.

What this country needs
is a good defensive midfielder.

Don't leave football.

How else are we going to beat
these BSC sissies?

You were beaten
on Sunday and will be again.

Quiet!
-Who're you telling to be quiet?

Want me to come over there?
Don't what?

Leave the Pirate to me.

Waiter, can we get a nice dress here
for the captain of the Yugoslavia,

so the ball doesn't go
between his legs anymore?

-Listen, you louse.
-Oh, no, the suit!

I've had it with you.

You're so wicked!

You're a pure soul,
like that little Tirke.

There goes the bridegroom.

-See how in love with you he is?
-I can see his love alright.

Rosa, hold this for me.

Pashic!

Mosha!

People, they're beating
the footballers!

You want to fight with this?
Did daddy make it for you?

Ballerina.

Thanks, BSCer.

Jaksic. Goalkeeper.

Now you'll eat this.

Son, mind the shirt,
daddy will be cross.

Fuck, what action!

I haven't had this much fun in ages!

Mr. Pashic, are you all right?

What about me?

-After you, lover boy.
-Where am I going to sleep?

Down with the King, down with the...
that's right!

Hey...

Where should us neutral guys sit?

How come I can't have a Croat
goalkeeper in the team?

He's the best goalie in the whole
of Yugoslavia. I want him.

I want a combined team.
You can protest all you want.

What's this?

A pigeon. Radoje.

I spoke to the commissioner,
he'll release them from prison.

Andrejka, do you know
this pigeon is forming our team?

I'm not in a mood for your jokes.

My team members are in jail,
better go and have them released.

Is this the list? Here.

Dacha, we'll go pick the Croats up
at the station. What's that?

You think it's easy to find twelve
tuxedos to rent in Belgrade?

Good job the circus is in town,
otherwise we'd go to the King naked.

Serious disruptions of public order
twice in three days.

Now, when things in the state
are more fucked than ever!

And instead of kicking the ball, they
kick the son of the prime minister!

Fucking hell! Open this up!

Hurry the fuck up!

The dandy piece of shit deserves it.

But that's not your job,
you mother fuckers!

The reception
at the court starts in...

I know, it's starting!

And these fucking members
of the national team are invited.

And they'll be going!

But only if I get
the confession of the guy

who injured Pashic Jr. so badly
that the police

had to search for his teeth
on the street.

I beat up that bastard.

We can win with you in jail as well.
Take the bastard to the judge at once.

You lying dog!

I was the one
who beat that scum to a pulp.

They're both liars, I was the one,
look at the blood on my hands.

-The two of us beat him.
-Yes, and I kicked him in the gob.

These BSCs are full of shit.
I want my brass knuckles back.

-That's a present of my late mother!
-That's right.

Commissioner!
Toilet, please?

You imbecile fucks.

You guys belong in a nuthouse,
not a national fucking team.

Commissioner, I didn't beat him,
but I'm going to!

Listen, don't arrest this one
any more. You hear?

Go fuck yourself.

You can't play football,
but you can really fight.

BSCer, you covered me in the fight,
I'll remember that on the pitch.

Milutinac, you're a pleasant surprise.
You fought like a real bastard.

Shame on you, I have to bail you
out from jails like this.

Take this, put it on on the way.

-Milutin...
-Leave me alone. My career is done.

Get out and put this jacket on, we're
going to the King's reception.

The King's?

Sorry, Lenin doesn't give receptions.

This is too big.
Pirate, take the white one.

Give it to Ballerina,
he's a tender soul.

-Call me crazy, but it stinks of lion.
-It stinks of apes.

It belongs to the ape tamer,
and I feel just like him.

-There's no space for me here!
-So sit on the roof!

Excuse me, have all the passengers
from Croatia left the train?

Long ago.

That's it, Andrejka,
they haven't come, that's that.

I hope the clap is the only effect
of brothel diplomacy.

Mr. Pops, thank you so much.

I will pay you back
as soon as possible.

It's fine, as long as you're free.

What a scandal.

If you are free at all?

Someone has to pay for him
to be released.

-How much?
-A lot.

Hello, boys.

Nice place you have here.

Here's the check for Mr. Tirnanic.

Thank you.
You shouldn't have.

We're still all official?
Want me to leave you inside?

Goodbye, officers. Go on, kid.

Come in and hold on to me
if you're afraid.

Where are the Croat players?

It seems your brothel diplomacy
hasn't worked.

-Take the boys.
-Where?

-Where should I take them?
-Just don't involve me.

You played like real men, these
ministers and generals could use...

...some football practice.

They're growing pot bellies from
all the tennis.

Arsenijevic...

From Croatia?

No, central Serbia.

-Marjanovic.
-Have fun, boys.

Jump on the eligible young
ladies of Belgrade.

-Your majesty, if I could...
-Yes.

About the World Cup,
the thing I asked you about.

Yes, yes.

They're laughing.

Who knows, maybe the King
gives us the money after all.

Simonovic,
I know you're clinically insane,

but it looks like Andrejevic
is following in your footsteps.

A head coach without a team
is like a king without a country.

-How much money do you need?
-300 thousand, your majesty.

That's all?

His majesty the King of Romania
is a direct patron of his team.

You believe we can win in Uruguay?

I don't know that, your majesty.

Football is not a game in which
the winner is known in advance,

but it is one in which David
stands a chance against Goliath.

Like us, against Austro-Hungary.

That's the spirit I like, Andrejevic.
That's the Yugoslav spirit.

But there are no Yugoslavs
in your team.

They're boycotting us, sir.

If you had any Yugoslavs,
you'd get the 300 thousand from me.

And never you mind
the King of Romania.

He's lucky, he doesn't have
the Serbs and Croats to deal with.

Enough, you'll overdo it.

-I'm fine.
-Fine?

-You're fine?
-I am.

Want to dance then?
You're safe.

With you?

Never.

I dance by myself.

-I'm fine.
-Well done!

You're a medical phenomenon!

They say,
if you can juggle a raw egg...

Then you're immortal enough
to become a legend.

-What?
-Don't.

-Don't what?
-I don't want to.

You don't want to what?
-I want the first time to be...

A man in love...

That's rarer than a polar bear.

When I was entering here
I thought I was a gentleman.

Milutinac is right,
never mind the King.

-The King couldn't care less...
-Then we'll go republican.

No politics,
you can go to prison for that.

-We were better off in prison.
-Where's the button?

Like that, in front of the court?

-Please, let me just say something.
You can't, give me the tux.

This is Andrejka's tux,
I can't give it to you.

I told you to listen to me.
Now do what you like.

Give it here.

Now, go to the World Cup without
any money, if you can!

Let the Bulgarians go and we can
continue our state championship.

Gentlemen, I apologize, it's my fault.

It's not your fault, even if you got
the money, we'd still have no team.

Can I just say something...

-It may be stupid...
-It is stupid, give me the tux.

Well, speak up man!

-Andrejka, this is your coat.
-Please, just a couple of words.

Yeah, say the couple of words and then
we can fuck right off.

I don't know about the money.

But I think we do have a team.

So I should arrest those Croats and
force them into the national team?

I am sure he didn't mean that.

These boys...

What about them?

They're the national team.

-We only need to get the captain.
-Let's go, head coach.

Sir, find that money?

I'll try.

Ferchrissake, don't you know the time?

Your inconsolable friends
came to beg you!

I know your hand
is already spoken for.

But we don't want your hand,
we want your leg!

Both legs, in fact.

Marry us!!

Vampire will be easy.
Ballerina, Nosey, you get him.

If you're fucking with me...

We're not, man, you're playing for
the national team. But in Romania.

We're joking, come on.

I'll get Teofil.

Milutin,
it's like you work for the police.

Come on, you'll be playing
for the national team.

And get yourself a girl.

Jaksic as a goalie.

Nice choice, head coach,
but he's in jail.

You're
in the national team of Yugoslavia.

-Fuck this cop sense of humor.
-Jaksic, attention!

Get your things
and get out of the cell!

Do we really need the kid,
Tirnanic?

-Yes.
-Mosha, you find him.

Tirnanic! Tirke!

What are you shouting for!
Waking decent people up.

Looking for Tirke,
you know where he is?

-I have something to tell him.
-Tell me, I'll tell him.

If I remember, of course.

Okay, tell him he made
the national team.

-But only if you remember.
-Wait, Mosha!

Stop, hey! Wait!

Djordje, please see who that is.

-Mr. Marjanovic.
-Let him in.

We came to get the boy. He's become
a member of the national team.

He's in my team as of tonight.
He can't go.

Shove it, miss. We have more important
things to think of.

Tirke, wake up!
Come on!

Get up, Tirke!
Wake up already!

-Get off!
You get up, stop lazing about.

You made it to the national team!
Get up already!

I'll call it 'Sin'.

The boy is no longer a pure soul.

Just as well,
he'll model for me awake.

What the hell...

Get him dressed, kid.

-What should we do with him?
-Got some rope?

Feeling better, Tirke?

Welcome to the national team, kid.

Wash my car later.

Thank you, kid.

So, you were screwed by the King.

The man wants to be an imperialist.

Well, it won't work.

He screwed you,
and the lot of us.

There's his empire for him now.

The Croats aren't blacks to be
colonized, nor are we the English.

They'll never leave us in peace,
mark my words.

So now he'd like to suck his royal
cock himself.

Well, no can do, no turning back.

Son-in-law, do you play this golf
thing?

That's smart, it's a shitty game.

But we have to be civilized.

Listen. Where are you?

If you were playing
under the name of Serbia,

I'd pay for the trip and throw in some
extra money for hookers and champagne.

But as it is, I can only give you what
the King already gave you.

And you know what that is.

Have you noticed how simple
football is when played by masters?

A piece of cake...

A joy to behold.

-When played by the ignorant and...
-Dunces.

Yes, when dunces play, it's so
complicated, it's hard.

Real hard.

Are we going to run?

Why would you run?

For training.

No, no, we'll play a little.

-Play?
-Yes, Milutinac. Play.

What's the matter with you?

You're terribly serious all the time.

Life is a serious business,
Mr. Simonovic.

How would you know that
if you forgot how to play.

Let's play a little.

Like that, no more than two contacts.

Change!

That's right, all as one.

Ballerina, Mosha, that's right,
that's right, Pirate!

Tirke!

Tirke!

When one of you sees it,
all of you see it! Let's go!

Seven, eight...

Why are we all punished
when just one guy made a mistake?

Because we all have to share
the good and the bad.

-Fuck it, we're only sharing the bad.
-That's harmony.

Once we're a team,
we'll share the good as well.

And we'll be a team once we've become
better people.

Coach,
does that go for the goalie too?

Goalies are not people.

It's a shame that there's no
money to send them to play football.

They should've
thought about it on time.

-Of course they should have.
-But no one ever thinks on time.

This is not a village match,
this is the world championship.

-But we have to stay home.
-The government has no money.

We have to do something. We can't
just let it go down the drain.

If the king said no,
there's nothing more to say.

There is too!

You'll go against the king?

Rajko used to go
against the emperor, too.

-Someone else's, but this is our king.
-It's our football too.

-How much do they need?
-300 thousand.

A lot.

How about getting a mortgage
on the apartment?

I already did that
when we opened the office.

Then mortgage the office.

I did that when we bought
land for the stadium.

My darling...

We're completely under mortgage.

This is not under mortgage.

And it will not be.

You inherited that from your mother.

And, God willing,
our daughter will inherit it from you.

Thank you.

Don't worry about me,
I'll think of something.

This is embarrassing.

We need to stop this,
we'll vote if need be.

Begging for money harms
the reputation of our organization.

So, we'll turn the Bulgarians down?

We'll play, but an exhibition match,
we have to make some money.

Who's going to watch that?

Everyone, when they hear
the Bulgarians will go instead of us.

Let them go.

Why are we thinking about
the World Cup at all?

That was nonsense!

That's it, pass!
Hold it!

Team!
That's it!

-Good morning, have a good training.
-Good morning, boys.

What's the matter,
did you get the money?

The news are not good.

-Wait, it's not all bad.
-What's not bad?

Boys, you must've worried a lot,
it's a long journey.

You being like that...
-Like what?

-I mean, incomplete.
-Without the Croats.

All in all, we don't have to worry
about this World Cup at all.

See, I told you it's not all bad.

Wait, what's that supposed to mean?

-We'll play against the Bulgarians?
-Of course we will.

-It's a preparation match.
-Oh, a preparation match.

-Come on, it's not preparation.
-It is, for the Bulgarians.

-For the Bulgarians, yes.
-Wait.

I don't get it.
Who's going to Montevideo then?

-The Bulgarians.
-Bulgarians are going to Montevideo.

-Fucking bourgeois, you sold us out!
-Wait a minute.

Easy, boys, easy!

Tirke...

You mixed up real life and dreams,
again.

Only, you thought that
there's no real difference.

But, there is some difference.

Rosa!

Get the laundry, it'll get wet.

I will, auntie.

Put something on your head,
you'll get soaked too.

You scared me.

What are you doing here?

You'll get wet, go.

And if I do get wet,
would you be sorry?

Why me? You have someone else
to be sorry for you.

-Who?
-That lady who got you out of jail.

-A pretty lady too.
-Don't mention her.

You ride around town in her car.

Who should I mention if not her?

Yourself.

Myself what?

You're all soaked.

So are you.

Are you really going to this
Montevideo?

What if I do?

Will you come back if you go?

Rosa, get out of the rain!

And this match with the Bulgarians...

It was adding insult to injury.

An exhibition match.

Rajko!

I don't know what "exhibition" means,
but I know that

for the first time
since football's existed

no one from our neighborhood
wanted to go see the match.

Crazy man.
Rajko, what's the matter?

Bogdan the barber said

it's like the two of them went
to war as an exhibition.

Or, as master Rajko would put it...

Fuck that.

Until recently,
no one had even heard of Montevideo.

But now, nothing seems to be
more important than that.

So, no training?

-No match either.
-That's right.

Let the bourgeois play
the Bulgarians, we won't.

Wait, we can't just do this,
let's vote.

Actually, you decide, Mr. Simonovic.

You're a team now.

You decide.

I'll respect any decision you make.

Let's vote.

What for?

I'm not playing.

It's my dream to play
in the national team uniform.

Well, dream on.

At least I still dream. I don't
sell out for a hundred dinars.

-What did you say?
-I said I still have some principles.

Wait, boys, easy.

Wait.

Hello.

Hello boys.

Have I told you I was put in a
Bulgarian prison-camp during the war?

No.

It doesn't matter now.

What was I saying...

The Bulgarians have an excellent team.

They're strong.

Don't let them humiliate you.

So, we should play against
these Bulgarians?

I don't know.

But if you decide to play, play for
yourselves, not for some bourgeois.

What about Montevideo?

Boys, I let you down.

I drag you into something
I'm obviously not a match for.

Forgive me.

I had a vision.

But this word, in this country...

Perhaps one day
we will go to that Mundial.

If not now, another time, who knows.

Welcome!

-From Novi Sad, the president.
-Welcome.

Dear listeners, a poet would say
there are no good or bad days...

Rajko, come, let's listen to the match
on the radio.

I won't listen to that match.
Fuck your radio.

Still plenty of time until the start
of this great match.

An exhibition match, that has no
competitive value for our team.

It's a pity there aren 't more
people watching today.

Now that's us, we're only interested
in great victories and big defeats.

Although we don't have
so many victories lately.

-What a disaster.
-What, are there any people?

Yes, about 18 of them.
-21, another 3 just walked in.

-Hello.
-Hello.

Let's go, boys.

Please.

This is the president of
the Bulgarian Football Federation,

this is the police
commissioner and war hero.

-Really?
-Really.

I also took part in the war.

Good for you.
The important thing is take part.

At your service.

So, led by three referees,

the players of both national teams
enter the pitch.

Here come our heroes,
once big enemies in the Balkan Wars.

Good luck, uncle Boshko.

And now great friends in
the football arena.

Good, but I'm hoping for the same
result, us beating them.

Go Tirke!

That's good.

That's right, Mosha, pass!

What are you doing?

Give him the ball!

Djurdja, I washed these.

Thank you neighbor.
Sit down, let's have a coffee.

I'm not in a good mood today.

Rajko, you didn't go to the match,
to watch my son play?

No.

Come here, Nosey.
Sekulic, come over!

Go on, go on!

What are you looking at?

Tirke!

What is this?

Come closer, come closer!

I don't want to break my neck while
these guys are taking the piss.

Pass the ball!

What are you doing, hey!
All as one!

What are these idiots doing?

What is this?

Mr. Jovanovic, this is more like
an orchestra out of tune

than a national team.

I agree, Mr. Kustudic,

I'm afraid this day is an unnecessary
and unsuccessful experiment...

Of course,
when only the BSC are playing!

This was one of the worst halves
that Belgrade ever saw.

Uncle Boshko, why are they playing
like this?

Good thing Jaksha finally realized

goalies are not
just footballers' best friends.

He saved us from great shame.

-Well done, Jaksa!
-Let's go, we're better!

We weren't better
than the Bulgarians that day.

We were horrible.

Well done!

Rajko, it's a goal, 1-0!

-Was it Mosha?
Yeah, a Bulgarian Mosha.

The Bulgarians don't have a Mosha.

Ask the radio if you don't believe me.

-But they have to score in this box.
-Wait, Rajko, leave me the radio.

-Fuck both you and your box.
-Leave the radio alone!

If there is another goal,
I'll smash both you and the box.

Dunces, dunces, dunces, dunces!

We had just one dunce before,
now we have twelve!

We had just one dunce before,
now we have twelve!

It's like an epidemic.

We're lucky we're not going to this
Montevideo.

Judging from the match
in the first half,

our team seems to be very far
from the World Cup.

Almost as far as our country is
from South America.

I kept standing in the front
and didn't get a single ball.

I called for the ball 15 times!

They're walking there at the back,
casually.

It's our fault.

Why don't you say
anything to those two?

-Those two?
-Yes.

Those two I can only kick out.

Loverboy
won't pass the ball to me.

I've passed you enough,
both balls and women.

Thanks for passing me this one and
then taking her to the cinema.

-What did you do there?
-What?

Did you add another
notch to your belt?

Imagine, we watched a film, man.

Liar.

What were you doing at my girlfriend's
in your underpants?

-Nothing.
-Nothing?

I'm not that kind of person.

If you believe me.

And do you believe me?

Guys, I believe you.

All of you.

Maybe I'm not fit to be a head coach?

Maybe I'm crazy.

But I believe you.

Remember...

There is no second half in life,
but there is one in football.

Come on, guys, don't fuck around.

Seems neither one of them fucked
anything, but we all got screwed.

Let's go, second half.

Let's go, guys.

Ten dinars, who scores first?

Don't throw away your money.

It's unkind to beat them that badly.

I have to admit, our team looks a lot
better organized in the second half.

What are they doing?

All as one, guys.

Here's a chance!

Penalty!

The referee didn't make a mistake.

-People, here's a chance, hold on.
-Quiet, quiet!

Mosha, you shoot.

You do it.
-No, you do it, you're better.

Zivkovic, what are they doing?

-I'm not. Go on, shoot.
-You shoot, you have to.

I'll arrest you all, I swear.

Goal!!

Well done, Milutin.

If I have to score another goal with
you two standing there,

I'll beat you black and blue.

-It's 1-1!
-They've started to wake up.

Eleventh minute of the second half,
there's still a chance.

-Go on, pass!
-No, let him do it himself.

Excellent work by our team,
haven't seen this in a long time.

Here's a chance and...
Gooooal!!

See, I told you.

People, I can't watch the game
on the box, let's go to the stadium!

Wait, you haven't...

Rajko,
where are you going, no one's paid!

Let them in.

How many people...

I'm not sure this stadium
can hold all these people?

These boys have not only deserved
to go to the world cup,

but it will be
a national catastrophe if they...

Give him the ball, give him the ball.

Come on, say hello to our neighbors.

Kiss the lady's hand, you peasant.

Gooooal!

-Fantastic game for our team.
-Fantastic.

If a composer were here with us,

he would compose a football
symphony.

Congratulations, this is
the first time I've agreed with you.

Hey, son-in-law,

these boys of yours play brilliantly.
What did I tell you?

Fuck Yugoslavia, this is Serbia!

Listen, why don't I pay for your
expedition to Montevideo?

I've already called
the FIFA president.

I asked for the Bulgarians to go
instead, they can fund their trip.

You're too late.

Fuck both you and the Bulgarians, then.

Mr. President,

would you kindly ask the head coach to
tell your players to take it easy?

This is a friendly match.

By no means.

After all, this is just a game.

Get some bonbons
and offer them to the ladies.

Mosha, Tirke... what a duo,
a duo for the future!

The stands of the BSC stadium will
never forget that second half.

The stands of the BSC stadium will
never forget that second half.

This is the first time our national
team played as a team.

And I can't for the life of me

remember which one
of our boys scored...

I guess it didn 't even matter.

-Where're you going?
-Jaksa, where are you going?

Jaksic the goalie is running towards
the penalty area.

What's going on?

Goal!!!

And, the end.

A fantastic victory.

It's such a pity that,
after this spectacular match,

our boys won't
go to the world cup in Uruguay,

Congratulations, son-in-law.
It's a pity.

How can I express my joy!

How should I know, sing!

God ofJustice;

Thou who saved us when in deepest
bondage cast,

Hear Thy Serbian children's voices,

Be our help as in the past.

With Thy mighty hand sustain us,

Still our rugged pathway trace;

God, our hope;

protect and cherish the Serbian
crown and the Serbian people!

For the team!

-A beautiful scene.
-A once in a lifetime thing.

If I were an emotional man,
I'd start to cry now.

I'm already crying tears of joy,

I've never experienced
such a thing in my whole life.

Looks like these people would give
everything they have

just to help our team
go to this Uruguay.

True.

I would spend the rest of my life
polishing shoes,

if they could go to Montevideo.

Kid, you're so right.

Get your tools ready,
here's fifty dinars for the shoes.

Kustudic, you can buy a new pair of
shoes for fifty dinars.

Get ready, kid.

Ladies and gentlemen, come, have your
shoes polished for Montevideo!

Get your gear ready,
you'll have lots of customers.

Shoe shining for Montevideo,
and for the World Cup.

Brother, stop whoring about now,
let's get our shoes polished.

Come on people, we're having our shoes
polished...

To help us boys.

What's going on?

My mom told me

I was born so tiny that it was God's
miracle I survived at all.

I don't know if God interfered in
the miracle at the BSC stadium,

but if he did,
he did it through all of us.

Let's go have a chat somewhere else,
the champagne will get cold.

Easy, gentlemen, we're well-mannered,
traditional, kind.

True Serbian hosts.

Zivkovic, find the phone number of
the FIFA president.

Phone number?

And everyone puts God's will to
practice in their own way.

-So, that's that?
-That's that.

Can you take a check?

You rich people
always complicate things.

Look at all those zeroes!

Gentlemen,
I think your shoes are dirty too.

Go home and wait for me.

I think you'll need this.

This is crazy.

I see you sorted the money out.

It's not all about money.

Confidence counts too, right?

What do you do when you realize

you're starting to have
feelings for someone?

I play football, I work out,
I make a fool out of myself.

You?

I run off to Paris.

That's far.

The first thing they teach you in
life is that people are different.

That day, I polished thousands of
shoes, boots, galoshes, ladies' pumps.

That's right, gentlemen, sports
officials, I salute you.

Andrejka...

go to the office in ten minutes,
the FIFA president will call you.

Rimet?

And mind what you do
in this Montevideo.

True, people are different,
but only by the shoes they wear.

A lot of people know that,
but forget it when they grow up.

Just like they forget to love,
to be happy, to dream.

Will you wait for me?

We never even went to the cinema.

You know how they do it
in the movies...

They close their eyes...

And then slowly...

Keep this for me, until I return.

Life is when you have a dream
and you believe in it.

And when dreams become reality,
you've beaten time...

Whatever used to be a long time ago
still goes on.

And death is no longer
the end of life.

There is no end.