New car, Z?
For your information only, that's a prototype. Bother.
Yes? Right. I'll be back in a sec'. Don't touch a thing.
England captain, Danny "Mean Machine" Meehan,
is licensed to score with Umbro.
Licensed to get hammered, you mean.
Large whisky.
Do you want anything in that?
Yeah, a double.
It's lively in here.
Didn't you use to be Danny Meehan?
Used to be. A very long time ago.
Sir, we're going to have to breathalyse you.
No need, officer. I'm totally pissed.
Come on, Danny. No trouble.
Oh, look, a miniature copper!
You'd better come along with us.
Don't be silly. Come on!
You are nicked, sunshine.
BBC news headlines.
This morning, ex England football captain
Danny Meehan was jailed for three years,
despite pleading guilty to assaulting two police officers and driving drunk.
Meehan's downfall from the pinnacle of world football has been swift,
since match-fixing accusations ended the career of one of our finest players.
The judge showed little sympathy for his pleas of mitigation,
imposing the maximum sentence.
Meehan showed no emotion as he was led away.
The former star will serve his sentence at Longmarsh High Security Prison...
...famous for its rehabilitation programme,
reformed characters,
and modern conditions.
Open!
That's it. Get out!
Come on!
- Get away from the van. - All right.
Shut it! This is a category B nick, not Butlins. Do you understand?
You're nothing in here. Do you hear me? Nothing. Move out.
May the good Lord be with you.
He's a pretty boy.
Coming in.
Straight down the stairs.
Prisoner on the move.
Stay behind the line. Stand there.
- Valuables? - Prisoner Meehan 04112.
Sign it.
Here's your designer gear for the next three years. Enjoy.
What are you waiting for? Come on, move it.
Captained his country, and he ends up in here?
73 caps for England, and you sell your country out in a game.
That's un-bloody-English, that is.
Chief.
I'm the chief officer of this prison.
You call me "Mr Burton, sir".
You call him Mr Ratchett and him Mr Hayter.
Anybody in this uniform, you call mister, right?
Right.
Mr Burton, sir.
Sometime tomorrow, governor wants a word.
He wants you to coach my football team.
Little word of advice.
You're gonna smile nicely and say no.
- Move it! - All right!
What did you say? That's "Mr Hayter, sir" to you. Do you understand?
I think you need a little reminder of Mr Burton's orders.
You won't coach our football team.
OK?
Stand there where I can see you.
Meehan, stow your kit top right.
All right, lads? New cellmate for you. I'm sure you recognise him.
He used to be a somebody once upon a time.
Got plenty of time to get to know your new playmates.
Work assignment. C wing.
Got you an apprentice. He used to be a sweeper.
- Comedian. - Enjoy it, Meehan.
- I've got some advice for you. - Thanks. I'm short on advice today.
This will change your life.
Do you see that? Be very careful of those.
Some of the boys have a pony in the night, wrap it and airmail it out the window.
Here, use this.
Glamorous job. Stick it in the bin and follow me, OK?
Come on!
Do you know who that is?
Meehan! Here.
Not the muscle, the other one.
- Christ, he's got old. - 30 years will do that to you.
Still thinks he's Al Capone. You'd better go over.
- You know who I am? - Charlie Sykes.
- I run this nick. - I've been told.
I lost a great deal of money on an England/Germany game a few years back,
after one of the Englanders gave away a very suspect penalty
after 72 minutes of playing time.
So I think that you owe me.
Come on, superstar. Tour's not over.
You know, it's not gonna be easy for you in here.
What's everyone's problem?
You really want to know?
Most of the guys in here have nothing, never had to start with.
But you, you had everything they ever dreamed of,
and threw it all away.
Hey!
The superstar! Danny Meehan.
It's the thingy, the... fuckin' hell...
...the Mean Machine! I bet you've got a few stories.
All the, you know, the pussy and all that thing.
- Funnily enough, no. - Yeah? So what, big shot?
I know all about fame. I was a face myself. I was the man.
The late '80s, all around the raves, all that, fucking... voom!
I was the top fucking kiddy.
My food?
Danny boy.
Anything you need, I'm a one-stop shop, OK?
Anything you want, I can get it for you.
I've just had that from Mr Fix lt, throwing the beans.
Nitro? Keep away from him, mate. Gets all in with all the newcomers,
- so that he can hustle them. - And what's your angle?
If you want any of life's little luxuries -
chocolate, toothpaste, soft toilet paper -
- Massive is your man. - Massive?
It's ironic.
- All right, Raj, you be black. - No, I'll be white.
Just chill. You've got a black nose.
You saying I'm black? That makes me the first Iranian from Babylon.
The neighbourhood celeb's in town.
- Put the kettle on. - Would you like any biscuits?
- I never asked to be put in here. - And we did?
- I don't need this. - You don't need this?
Let me tell you what we don't need. We don't need you, another body, in here.
Ain't nothing personal, pal. It's just... I don't fuckin' like you.
- Our star looks beat, Trojan. - Yeah, he needs to chill.
- Yeah, him have a hard day at work. - Any requests, star?
The legendary Broadhurst Monk.
Shipped in about six months ago, but they still have him on the special unit.
Why?
Apparently, he killed 23 men with his bare hands.
- Maybe I should take up karate. - That was before he took up karate.
They don't mess with him, not even the screws, not even when he's cuffed up.
- Is that the famous footballer? - Ex-footballer.
He's just a number now.
Chief.
Stand there.
Danny Meehan.
Well, it is a pleasure to meet you.
I'm a big football fan. Big.
What do you think of amateur football?
It's amateur.
Yes. Well, I'm sure we're not a match for the pro's, but we do have our own team.
Southern Division, semi pro's.
And we have a chance of winning the division this year, getting promotion.
We have been runners-up before, but first is first, and second is nowhere.
I want you to train the team, use your professional experience.
Well, I haven't played football for years, and...
I'm a little bit out of condition at the moment.
I pulled a lot of strings to get you assigned to my prison.
I'm sorry.
I'm just not your man.
We'll stick a pin in it for now.
Out.
- Mr Burton, a quick word, if I may. - Sir?
I've spent a fortune on this team, for no return.
I am the coach of this team...
With the money I spent we could have won the World Cup.
You can't put a prisoner in charge of the guards' team.
Just get it done. Please.
- I wouldn't get too close, miss. - Why? You're not dangerous, are you?
Only if you've got the ball, miss.
Hey, Danny boy. I can get you anything, anything that's not on the menu.
- Is that stink you, Meehan? - Don't you poke me again.
Don't you start growing a spine, footballer.
Bollocks!
Hands behind your neck.
Let go of my neck. Let go of me.
Let go of me.
Pack it in.
It wasn't me!
It's not me, you bastards.
Razzle Dazzle. Three o'clock, Kempton Park.
£5,000, please. To win.
All this lovely fresh air.
Wouldn't you rather be out there on the pitch, coaching?
I just wanna keep my head down. Do my 12 months and I'm going home.
12 months, yes, but that's with parole.
And that's before you assaulted another inmate
- and attacked my staff. - Wait a minute...
Three years, that's your sentence. So you could be with us for some time.
Take him back to solitary.
- Have a nice week's holiday? - Yeah, lovely.
- There is a way out. - What?
Listen, convince the governor the best way to train the guards
is to play a tough match against a team of cons with you as the captain.
Pro's always have a pre-season friendly.
What do you think, Mr Burton?
Could be a win/win for everybody.
Could this work, Meehan?
Yeah, but I need time to prep, and I pick my own team.
I could get a real FA ref. There's one at my golf club. That'll be good.
One more thing: What goes on on the pitch stays on the pitch.
- Deal? - Goes without saying.
I am a marketing genius.
You'd better get yourself some rest, superstar. Busy day tomorrow.
We'll see.
- Remember, anything you need. - I'm fine, thanks.
- Yeah? That's not what I heard. - What?
I could have been a pro. I was very good.
They were gonna take me on, only I had a bit of trouble and blah blah blah.
The old knees, I suppose, yeah?
Bomb-making.
Otherwise, you know...
Well, I'm sure it was a big loss to the game.
I've gotta go, but I'll catch you later.
All right, Nitro?
Dickhead.
Yes, Razzle Dazzle. Came second?
What's the problem, darlin'?
- That's not possible. - It's very possible, sweets.
That's not possible.
I think you owe me five G, darlin'. Have a nice day.
So, what happened to your marketing?
It's early days yet. You've got to give it a bit of time, Dan.
Danny, over here, mate.
Here we go.
Yes. Now, I can say I've had a kick-about with Danny the "Mean Machine".
Burnin' in me head! Burnin' in me head!
It's all right. I'll go and get it.
Found a new bum chum, have we?
Makes you feel big, does he? He's just using you.
Once he finds his feet in here, he'll dump you on your fat, black arse.
You jumped up little shit.
Mr Ratchett, sir, whilst I don't wish to be rude,
I do believe that you watched too many Tarzan films as an impressionable child.
Don't you get smart with me. Do you understand?
Now get out of my sights.
- What happened to you? - Nothing.
Sykes' boys look pretty useful.
Don't even think about it. Who do you think has been stopping everyone from playing?
I loved your work, man.
Sorry?
I never believed any of the talk. I can't believe it. Look. Here you are.
Cheers.
That buys you three across, mate.
- Then you can teach me. - Have a nice one.
Will you teach me, yeah?
Teach you what?
All that, you know. All them soccer skills. All that.
Sorry, do what?
You know, like the pro's. All that caper.
Yeah?
I gotta go, but we'll stick a pin in it, all right?
Yeah, lovely. We'll stick a pin in it. Lovely.
Fan club.
Bloody stalker.
- What's three across? - What?
I just saw a bloke pay money for a strip of crossword.
Ah, Sykes!
Yeah, three across, four letters:
Acid.
The governor lets Sykes get his "Racing Times" and other papers special delivery.
He thinks it helps Sykes work out form and give him tips.
He doesn't know that they're pre-soaked in acid.
He's actually smuggling Sykes' drugs in for him.
It came second, and it cost me £5,000.
You must have made the wrong bet.
W for win.
Win.
It's got smudged in the rain.
EW.
EW means each way.
It's a fucking disgrace if you ask me.
Meehan fraternising with that shower of shit.
What do you want, Tompkinson?
I was thinking. I know.
I know that I can help you, Mr Ratchett, sir.
- Information and all, whatever. - Help yourself, more like.
I'm sick of this place. I need to get a transfer.
HMP Silver Sands.
Away from the influence of all these criminals, sir.
You keep me posted.
Oh, look. A monkey learning new tricks.
- Why don't you leave me alone? - Because I don't like uppity coons.
- Listen, man... - No, you listen!
- You animal! - Animal? You call me a fucking animal?
I'll open you up like a tin of beans.
Hey, stop him! Someone stop him!
You fucking scum!
Are you all right? He needs a doctor! Just get a doctor!
That fucking Meehan!
Mr Burton. Have you missed me?
You might be the governor's pet project, but don't push it.
It's called sunlight, Meehan. Think of it as a privilege which can be withdrawn.
Danny boy...
Well, come on then, star.
They're saying thanks for saving Massive.
Where's your manners? What would your old mum say?
Fuck me!
- Wish I'd met her. - Let's see how good you are.
Sort yourselves out. Skins v shirts.
- What's that? - I'm your manager.
- Since when? - Don't bother giving me no orders, yeah?
- Stop bitching, bitch. - Dan, have a word.
Shut it, Massive. Lads, want a game?
Fuck off!
Come on. Plenty of room over there.
Up, Troj!
Come on!
Yes, yes! Trojan, it's down!
- What do you think? - Bring your clipboard.
Five.
Three.
A generous one.
Seven. You missed two.
- Ten. - Eight. My mum could have scored that.
- Still. - Yeah, I know.
We'll try a fitness test.
One: Left hand down. Two: Right hand down. Three: Both hands. Four: Clap.
Five: Up. Run.
Bollocks.
One, two, three...
I wouldn't mind a crack at the guards.
- I'm sorry? I missed that. - Just saying. Be a laugh.
That's the Scots all over, innit? On the firm when it suits them,
and the next minute they're all misty-eyed and independent.
- I was only saying. - And I'm saying no.
I think we're going to have to work on the stamina, lads.
I'll pay at the end of the month.
No, sweets. It's cash on the nail.
- I haven't got it. - Sell the nice new Saab then, love.
- How do you know about that? - Pay us or we'll torch the motor.
You can pay us out of the insurance. There you go. Sorted.
- I was told that you were reasonable. - Reasonable, sweetheart?
Reasonable is how come you ain't sitting in your own piss
wondering how to get up with smashed knees and elbows, OK?
Big kiss.
Looking forward to getting a thrashing?
If it means getting out of here early, I'll take another beating.
Who said anything about a beating? I'm talking about the match.
Come on! I've seen your lot in action.
I don't run my ship like that. Are you making a complaint?
No.
Lock it up!
What's the matter?
Did you have a nice chat with your chum Burton?
Ain't you got any hobbies?
- You sleep with one eye open, son. - Whatever.
Hello, Danny boy. Nitro.
I've been wondering. You need a manager. You know, the...
...the tactics and all that. Well, I am the bollocks.
Massive's manager.
Yeah, I know, but I'm better than him because I had trials, didn't I.
We all had trials. That's why we're here.
Fuck off! Fuck off!
Football trials, yeah? I could be the physio.
No, no, I could be the pharmacist. Get the lads pepped up and all that bollocks.
I don't think so, mate.
Good job he likes you. He blew up five people, he didn't.
They're slags. They won't even let me in their poxy squad.
I don't give a fuck about their poxy squad, do you understand me?
If you want out of this fucking prison,
you gotta come up with something to spoil their little party. Otherwise...
...you're fucked.
OK, relax.
Be in the atrium 11 o'clock tomorrow morning.
- Mr Burton. - Thank you.
It's only a paper.
One down, two words, you're nicked.
Do you know the penalty for possession of illegal substances in a prison? Search him.
- What are you looking at, freak? - You were grassed up.
That dodgy Meehan is getting well pally with Mr Burton.
I've seen them talking.
- What are you doing? - No one likes a grass.
- What do you mean? - The big man's right.
We'll see what we can do about them beady eyes.
- Chiv, you know it wasn't me! - You know it's not me!
Which one am I going to burst? You choose - the left or the right?
- For fuck's sake! - Go on, pop it!
- Hold him! - Hurry up, Jock bastard.
- Who are you calling a Jock bastard? - You!
- I cut myself shaving. - Nosebleed. It's the altitude.
You want to get that seen to.
All right, that's a yellow card, gentlemen. Behave yourselves.
You wanna be more careful with this.
You could have had my eye out.
Hey, big-un, here.
It's Chiv.
Get him, Tone.
Thanks, by the way.
You saved me a lot of grief back there.
- Sorry about the... - That's all right.
- Anyway, you need a few more players. - What about your lot?
I don't think so. Not against Sykes' word.
Not that some of them wouldn't be up for it.
What makes you bulletproof?
He's not. But he's pally with the bloke that Sykes is cagey about.
- Who? - The Monk. That dude is beyond mental.
And so are his pals on the outside. Sykes, he wants a smooth flow.
All he really cares about is profit.
- What money? - You're a betting man. We'll make a deal.
Let your lads play. Win or lose, you call the result. Bet accordingly.
Back to your fixing the match routine, right?
Now, listen. It's like this -
I'd never take a bet against England, and I wouldn't bet the screws against the cons.
Capisce?
Then we can play to win.
- Would you think about it? - Yes, I'll think about it.
But right now I'm thinking you're polluting my air.
Now go away.
- How did it go? - It didn't.
Here, Dan. Dan, um...
- I've been thinking. - Leave the thinking to me.
Yeah, yeah, of course, Dan, yeah.
Well, what it is, Dan...
What, what...
I was wondering if...
Wondering what, Billy?
Can I be in the team?
The squad, Billy. You can be in the squad.
- I won't let you down, Dan. - All right.
Yes! The squad, yes! Come on, well in, Bill. Well done!
Yeah, squad, squad! Well in!
You told me they were reasonable.
They are, but they're businessmen.
You got me into this, and you can get me out.
Hey! I opened the door, you walked through it.
You've been making money ever since. So, why haven't you got it?
It is just a temporary cash flow problem. The team is bleeding me dry.
Well, get it sorted. Because this lot have a bad habit
of turning cash flow problems into blood flow problems.
I used to do double this just for a warm-up.
Anno Domini, mate.
I used to be able to piss in one go and then forget about it for the rest of the morning.
Bloody hell.
You never did say how come it ain't done your nut in, being in so long.
Only does your nut in if you don't think you should be here.
Look at me. Sweet old geezer?
A bit bumbly, full of jail-block wisdom,
cornerstone of the nick, put in with the foundations, right?
Right.
I didn't get to be the oldest lag for breaking windows.
Villains spend their lives shitting themselves
that other criminals are going to see to them.
So they get their retaliation in first and twice as nasty.
A bloke was coming after me, so I...
I went around to his digs and lobbed a grenade in the window.
Left over after the war, you know, army surplus.
I didn't know, but he had his little nipper and his bird in there with him.
The house went up like Guy Fawkes' Night.
No one came out.
He'd barricaded the door with furniture in case I came around.
By the time they got in, the screaming had stopped.
13 months old, learning to walk, apparently.
Nothing I can do is ever going to make up for that, is it?
- You're on. - What's that, a joke?
I'm not famous for my sense of humour. I know Nitro is the grass, not you.
- One thing: You fight one of my boys. - Fight?
A little earner I stage now and then. I can't be seen to be giving you a free ride.
- Fight who? - Fight him.
- Soft as puppy shit, Nick is. - I'm an ex-footballer, not a boxer.
So? Kick him.
An eye for an eye, you bastard.
- Fucking eye for a fucking... - Boo!
- Don't you do that again. - Calm down, silly bollocks.
You seem to be making more enemies by the minute.
Yeah? Well, I want out of this shit house!
Please! Please!
You're half way home, son. I'm taking you down to segregation now.
- That's why I'm here. - Yeah?
- Yeah. - Just give me a transfer, sir, please.
Please, please. Silverino Sands, yeah?
I will do anything, Mr Ratchett.
You owe me for this. Out, now!
We have a small change of plan.
Nick has come over all poorly. So I had to bring in a substitute.
Walk away, Danny. Walk away.
Mass, this is the only way we're gonna get these boys to play.
In the dirty brown corner,
with a record of 35 and 0 all coming by the way of the big KO.
The heavy duty champion of the penal world
Ketch, the Black Country Bastard.
Come on. Come on.
And in the other, equally dirty brown corner,
we have the challenger, formerly known as the "Mean Machine" -
Danny "I've had more backhanders than Boris bleeding Becker" Meehan!
Yeah!
Gentlemen, it's alternate punches,
followed by one mug of five-star prison cognac. Cheers.
No using your left hand, no butting, biting, spitting, poking or kissing, you.
It's show time!
First head to hit the table loses.
First punch to the challenger.
Is he trying to kiss me or what?
Yeah!
Come on, Danny, wake up!
He fucking...
Focus, Danny.
By the way, I'm in here for GBH.
And again, come on!
Keep your head up.
I'm in here for drunken assault.
Yeah!
First, I'd like to welcome Mr Sykes' boys.
Watch this.
Go on.
Hey!
OK, if you wanna do that, join a circus. It's no good to us.
We need 11 men to play as a team. Right?
- Right! - Yes!
That's lovely, Dan. Well in. Right!
OK, positions. I play centre midfield.
Let's have all midfield players behind me, defenders to me left, strikers to me right.
Come on, lads, come on.
Terrific. Let's move on.
That's good. Now pass it.
Pass it, Trojan.
Pass it!
Trojan, it's a team game. Pass to our team.
He's too greedy.
OK, fellas. Now, the key to set pieces is concentration,
calculation, teamwork.
With corners it's about movement,
drawing defenders out of position.
When it comes to defending, it's about tackling,
finesse,
calculation.
Remember these simple rules, and we're in with a chance. Any questions?
Lovely story.
Yeah.
We still need a goalkeeper. Somebody to boss the defence about.
There's one man I know who could boss our def... No, no. Fuck that.
- That's not even worth thinking about. - Who?
- No, no, you'll laugh your head off. - Who?
- The Monk. - Monk? Can he play?
They say he could have turned pro, before he turned mad.
- How mad is he? - He's the Jock that even the Jocks fear.
- What did he do? - Something very dark up in Glasgow.
I heard he ate Hannibal the Cannibal.
Not even the Pope could get him out of the special wing.
The Monk is in the high security wing.
So do me a favour. Maybe I can help you with Barry the Bookie.
I'm listening.
Bet the game, your guards to win.
Price is right, we'll make a killing.
You pay off Barry, and have some left.
Take the missus to Malaga.
- This is so illegal. - I think criminal's the word.
All right, big man? Sound.
Danny Meehan, he's all right, know what I mean?
He's got a wee favour to ask you.
- Hello, Mr Monk. Can you play football? - Aye.
Good. Would you like to play with us?
Nah.
We're playing the guards.
- Aye. Then I'm with you. - Sound.
Thanks a lot, Mr Monk.
OK, let's try it. Troj, you take the corner.
It's my ball. Mouse's ball, Troj.
Come on, Troj. Yeah, yeah. To me, Troj.
It's Mouse's ball. My ball. Yeah.
- He's broke my bloody nose. - Let me have a look.
What?
- He did that on purpose. - No, he didn't.
- Yes, he did. - Tell him...
Tell him it was an accident.
Right, it was an accident.
- Now, get yourself off over the back there. - He said it was an accident.
You're not worried about the opposition, are you, Mr Burton?
A team of life's losers led by a man who can be bought and sold?
I don't think so. Not when the game's about character.
We'll give you a match.
You'll give us a game. Doubt whether you can match us.
We'll see.
One, two, three... Look up, pass it. Look up again.
Well done! Let the ball do the work. As the ball's coming to you, look up.
Start again. Spread out.
Up, down...
Come on.
One, two, three, four...
And left, and right. And left, and right...
Hurry it up there. I told you two to keep the centre tight.
I've always told you to wear tie-ups on your socks.
Now you, get over there and mark up. And you, bugger off.
Now listen, Daniel, I'm not putting you under pressure, right.
I'm burning up phone cards, taking bets from prisons up and down the country.
Oh, no.
Despite what the governor thinks, I'm betting us to win.
So my arse is on the line.
And by my arse, I mean your arse.
- OK, I need a volunteer. - Yeah.
- Dan. - Yeah, all right, Bill.
Help Monk and Chiv with their demonstration.
- Lovely. - Cheers.
Aye, right. So, we are the cons.
And they are screws.
So if anybody's gonna play dirty, it's gonna be they fuckers.
Here's one or two wee examples, just to keep us a step ahead.
Numero uno: The accidental treading on the toe.
It's an obvious one, but it works.
Ah, fuck!
Numero...
...two.
Right, daftie, run towards The Monk.
- What now? - On you go, half pace?
The cunningly titled "elbow in the face".
Very effective, but you tend to get sent off.
So if you use it, make sure the ref's not looking.
- Number four. - Wait. What happened to number three?
Number four: When you're helping him up,
grab the hairs under his armpits and twist them round.
- Hurts like a bastard, doesn't it? - Yeah.
- Number five. - Wait, I'm gonna sit down.
I don't wanna hog it. Let one of these lot have a go.
You're all right. You're the man. You're hard. Get in there.
Yeah, as it happens, yeah. No, go on, yeah.
And finally, the pièce de résistance, number 23.
I can't. Monk, stop, I'm in a bad way, mate.
Monk, I can't breathe.
Ah, fuck!
The guillotine.
Come on, let's move on.
Get yourself up. You're making the place look untidy.
- Was that all right though? - Cream.
Well done.
Finish with a bit of shooting practice. Troj, you lay them off.
Massive, marks out of ten.
You've done well with that lot.
Passes the time, Doc.
You know, it's not a crime to admit enjoying it.
You're becoming a sentimental old fart.
That bloody Meehan. Who does he think he is?
Don't you worry about Meehan. I've got something sorted for him.
Mr Popular. Time to meet your friends.
You can't put me back on the wing.
- You scratch my back, I'll scratch yours. - Sykes will fucking kill me.
You know the itch I want scratching.
I don't want Meehan on that pitch, understand?
OK. I know what needs to be done.