Right, take your jackets off.
We shall all feel better for a free flow of air round the old shirt.
Hey, strap's a bit loose. I know. I'm losing weight.
There. That should be wide enough for our purposes.
That man! That man! Take 'em off! Take 'em off!
Oh, glass in the eyes. Yes, I can just see fragments in the eyeballs.
You can't play in those, you know. Football is a very physical game.
Not the way I play it. You'd better take 'em off.
Otherwise he'll have us shot at dawn for disobeying an order. It won't be long, anyway.
Can you smell that air? I can feel it whistling up me... No vulgarity! Healthy minds in healthy bodies!
At least vulgarity can be done with your coat on(!)
We want to get the blood surging, want some colour in the cheeks, want somebody in goal...
Why is it you can always see his little perforations?!
Ohh! # Oh, you'll never walk alone. #
WITH PAIN: I'll keep goal. I want you to slam them at me unmercifully.
Don't spare me.
Foggy! Watch this!
Foul! WHISTLE BLOWS
OW! Ahh! Ah!
Watch out, Foggy!
Ah-ha. Hey hey!
Mister, can I have my wellie back?
Oh, shut up!
It's a crude, unpolished game. It nearly polished THEE off!
It lacks finesse. It's very much the knock-about sport of the working classes. What's he on about?
The knock-about sport of the working classes - the blonde from Gregson Street.
Trudy Edwards? Ha! He knows her, tha sees. Only by reputation.
Ah, but what a reputation!
She WAS going out with Tommy Weston. I hear he's better now.
I was talking about the intrinsic crudity of the game of football. Give over, it's pure poetry. Rubbish!
What's your game, then? ..Goff.
BOTH: Goff?! Well, golf then.
It's a queen of sport - bunkers, niblicks, birdies, eagles, and a certain indefinable social prestige.
Tha plays golf...goff?!
All those times you lounged with a drink in the clubhouse in St Andrews you never saw me play?
Not even a peekaboo.
Ohh! Ugh! Yeugh! Phah! What's up now? It's the same tea as always.
I know. I don't know how tha does it! Pshaw! Dear!
Neither do I at this price(!)
Here. Keep this thing on your wrist. Aw, it's got all sugar on it. Oi! Careful.
Steady on! The plating'll come off.
That's waterproof! But is it "Sid's tea-proof"? Oh!
Oh, look. Wear it round your neck. I can't tell the time under me chin.
Slip your arm out. We're not going to play football again, are we? No.
Hold your hand out, naughty boy. Try that. There. You try it there.
Slip your arm out if you want the time. That way you won't lose it.
It'll keep it out of Sid's tea.
I fought the Third Reich on better. You nearly lost, though!
We went to school all them years. We got the three Rs and woodwork.
Nothing on how to fight the Reich!
When have YOU played golf? I used to play regularly.
It was part of the social life when I was stationed in the Canal Zone.
You'd have been better off learning how to swim.
Hey, I didn't know you had golf courses in the desert. Oh, yes. It's just one big bunker.
I wouldn't mind reactivating the old clubs again.
When did tha last play? Oh, it's like riding a bicycle - you never forget.
True, elephants and bicycle riders never forget.
Give a bicycle rider a bun, and 20 years later tweak him on the trunk
and you will hear him trumpeting with pleasure.
When WAS it you last played? ..September. September?
..1939.
I was set for the Juniors' Cup when that fool, Hitler, invaded Poland.
He thought he'd lose the Juniors' Cup(!)
1939! You can't call yourself a golfer.
Murder once, you're a murderer for life. Or you used to be!
Now it's 12 years, and society's fault.
1939!
I've a set of high-class equipment up in the attic. Do you know...
I bet the last of the Dewhursts could still whack a nifty ball.
Couldn't hit it wi' a bargepole! I've a natural swing.
I know - from the hip, with a slight touch of the "Hello, sailor".
Ah-ah.
You can't ruffle my iron self-control.
I'm prepared to show my aptitude on any course you choose. Is thee?
It'll be boring. No wonder Hitler preferred invading Poland.
This afternoon, then. Get a cheap ticket and make a fool of yourself.
I accept your challenge. We shall see who looks foolish.
You forget we of the middle classes take our recreations seriously.
Fool! That hat was made by the premier hatter of Cleckheaton.
I'm sure they're in here somewhere.
It looks like the den of the Great Wardrobe Spider!
Hey, Norm, can you smoke up here? Only your own. I'll wait, then.
See its claw marks? What? The Great Wardrobe Spider.
You can see where it's lured pieces of furniture through that door-hole.
After first stinging them with a bite in the main arterial dovetail joint.
Aah! Spiderman! No!
MAKES SOUNDS OF PISTOL SHOTS
Can we get on searching? It's a half-set in a stout leather bag.
Talking of a stout leather bag, where's your landlady?
She goes once a week to have her hair set in concrete.
Most of this stuff is hers. I should hope so!
My monogram is on some of the better pieces.
COD? What? Call for One of the Dewhursts.
Hey, Norm, who was "Gig-li"? Who was this?
I'm grateful for the usual high standard of assistance I've come to expect from you two.
Let Corporal Dewhurst do all the work. It's my back. Oooh.
Oh!
Hey-up! She looks like Nora Batty!
Lend us your stays. My back is something terrible.
Here we go again - the phantom back.
His slipped disc's cost enough in benefits to buy a nuclear submarine.
That expression! Don't tell me THAT ever needed liberating.
That brings back memories of Mersa Metru. Was that her name?
How many games have been played on that in the mess?
Quite a number, I would judge. Going by her expression.
Hey, look what's in here!
Will you come out of other people's drawers. Ow!
PILLOCK! Me finger! Oh-ho!
You're very nimble on your feet.
Hey, look. Anyone for tennis?
That's just what I want. It won't go with your wellies. Let us try.
Ah, I knew they were here somewhere. All right, old clubs, help is at hand.
Oh, Nora, that is definitely you!
I don't know what to do about your wooden leg, though. Never mind, sweetheart,
you SHALL go to the ball. Ta-da!
Ah. Will you stop messing about?
Turn that thing off. Here. Now then, I'll show you a trick or two.
Very good, Foggy. We liked the first trick. Shut up!
You couldn't buy a set of clubs like this these days, you know.
Fashioned by craftsmen, these were...
Now...
You know, some fool's had these near the heat.
Oh.
D'you think I'd get round with them? Do it well and they'll all want one(!)
The Dales could be full of the sounds of men twisting their mashie-niblicks.
There we are, love. There's your change. Did you enjoy that? Good. Come again. Tell your friends.
Mind crossing that road, won't you? Bye-bye.
HUMS HAPPILY
What's up wi' YOU? You not well?
No sarcasm, please.
Well, all this activity deserves comment.
Usually, it's like you've got rigor mortis.
Very humorous, love. I feared we'd eventually bury you with your elbow still on the counter.
Clegg says marriage is two people sharing a bathroom -
like they do in prison!
Still, you've moved briskly before.
There was that occasion you lowered your idle, fat butt on my hotplate.
I'm just clearing up early.
Oh, this is gonna be good(!)
Let's hear it, then. Why? Why?
Well...um...
Why be tied to a rigid timetable? Man's not a machine, he's impulsive.
Sara Gledhill's got your fingermarks to prove it. You want every day the same.
But Man will not be confined by routine.
Gaugin gave a good job up to paint dusky maidens in the South Pacific.
Hey, he's a mucky devil! Just something he had to do.
You try laying a paint brush on Sara Gledhill, I'll break both your elbows.
It's going to be quiet. I thought we'd close early. Oh?
I could take the van and collect them spuds you've been wanting from Morris's.
LIAR!
OK, I'm picking Mrs Gledill up, for a turn in my pleasure waggon.
You're going golfing with them three. I heard you arrange it!
Go!
BICYCLE SQUEAKS
Hey-up!
Ohhh...twinges of cramp in the calf.
It's the disability feared most by all virtuosos of the bicycle.
You were struggling coming uphill. I almost thought you were going to get off and walk(!) Cor, hoo-hoo!
Ay, it was just an idea I had(!)
Why do we have all the fleshy padding at the back of the leg
and none where you need it - on the shin?
(Hey! ..Look at this lot.)
Fancy being up for municipal rape and finding that lot on the jury!
Lady golfers!
They say Hitler's bodyguard was composed of lady golfers. Do they?
Oh, where the hell is he?
I bet he's sneaking a practice wi' them curly clubs. He wouldn't.
Foggy's wears his cockups on his sleeve. Here comes the cockup now!
Have you been drinking? You'll show me up in front of the Tory Party at play.
Hey-up! It's fancy-dress day.
You'd have thought going that far, he'd have put a red nose on.
You didn't spend much time choosing sporting gear. I changed me jacket.
What did you change it for?! It's my sporting jacket. I wear it at Doncaster races.
Here! You can carry these. I want you to hide behind them.
Whenever I look in your direction, I want to see plenty of golf bag and very little YOU.
He's made you his caddie. Oh, ta(!)
He's got to give you a tip.
Gary Player gave his caddie all his winnings.
HE'S not going to win anything!
If you do it for a penny a stroke, by the end of the day you'll be able to pay off the national debt.
How are the greens?
I'm not going to carry this lot around. Oh!
Watch out! Look what you're doing! You should have one of them.
Where's big mouth from the cafe? No point in starting without him.
HE'LL not take a gentleman's word for the score. What's the time?
Just a moment.
There. Ten past.
Cover that shirt up. What the 'eck!
Will you get off? You great ninny, you've got me arm in me pocket, now.
Suppose they think we're related?! Not a hope.
What're you doing?
BUZZ OF CONVERSATION
SILENCE
Good afternoon.
Oh!
Keep him out of here.
Don't do anything. Don't say anything. Take your cue from me.
Sit down there.
Take that revolting hat off. Now, while I'm at the bar...don't move.
If you stir, I'll slice both ears off with a No. 4 iron.
Old chap, what're you drinking? A pint.
A half! It's not a filling station.
And try not to get froth all over your face.
You don't get froth on gnat's water! Keep your voice down! His voice's rougher than his chin.
Ah, good day to you, steward. Good day, sir. Three halves of your ale, please.
One each for us and one for our, er, caddie, there. Hey-up, Henry Cotton.
If I've got to stay in this steaming jungle, can I have a packet of monkey nuts?
He's been a source of embarrassment to me all day. The humiliation!
All I wanted was a bag of nuts! SID: You've a bag of clubs instead!
And the Lord appeared and said, "I am the Lord thy God."
Whereupon they were much displeased, saying, "Oh, yes? And what's your handicap, then?"
Look at him! Just LOOK at him.
It's what you'd expect if you tried to conjure a small evil spirit at night in an Oxfam shop.
I'll bet there's rabbits round here.
And they're all very house-proud -
every hole's got a little number on.
Pay attention to Foggy when he's insulting you. You can't insult HIM.
I'm sure you could if you asked him nicely. If you ask me nicely. Go on!
COMPO WHISTLES TO HIMSELF
Ssh.
CARRIES ON WHISTLING
Ssh. STOPS WHISTLING
YAWNS NOISILY
Take this peppermint and shut up!
Well! What a performance!
Hey-up! I saw a rabbit!
I saw one! Shut up! Over there!
All right, I'll move on, start at the second. No, don't apologise(!)
Who's apologising? I'll give this one a miss. That's very kind of you.
Sorry about this.
That were a buck rabbit! I swear, it was that big.
That's a pony. What about that big?
You've forgotten your balls, sir.
Balls, sir! And you, sir!
We'll return them when we pass him on his way back.
They're too expensive to lose. The shop here pays a shilling for every one you find. A shilling each?
You can forget that. They're going straight back to their owner.
A shilling! A shilling each.
It's noticeable how impressed you've suddenly become by the game of golf.
WHISTLES CHEERFULLY
How's he going to hit it with that? Better off with a stick of rhubarb!
Ohh. Yes. Ahem!
MAKES ANGRY NOISES Get on with you!
Ah! Gotcha! ..Yes, yes. There she goes.
Ah, yes...it's all coming back to me. All right, keeping the score then, that's 1.
Where's frog face? Trust him to miss my triumph. Has he gone after that rabbit?
I shouldn't think so, not without help. According to him it was, oh...four foot high.
I'm getting the hang of it - matter of compensating for the curve. Of course. Yes.
Aah! Ah! Ooh! Oh!
43.
We won't count that one.
I hit it! It's gone for miles! You... Ahem, come on chaps, get up.
Come on. On your feet. Follow me.
Come on, up the fairway.
Oh, ho-ho!
Look! There it is.
Get your bargain balls here - 4p. That's all they are. Here we are, sir, half-a-dozen.
Thank you. You won't buy balls like this anywhere else. Only slightly soiled.
You great idiot, you!
You knocked it off! You've moved my ball!
Are you related to those blasted...
All right, you've made your point.
Only the middle classes could take THIS seriously.
I'm going before she DOES think I'm off in my pleasure wagon. Ta-ra.
Any more of you?!
Perhaps we can get on, then.
Drinks are on me, tonight!
All the bars are closed by now, except in downtown Majorca.
That man! Hold that lamp still.
Dewhurst never gives up.
Subtitles by Carolyn Donaldson, BBC