'Some people say that Ireland's big dream is to somehow float
'itself into the middle of the Atlantic,
'so that people will stop confusing it with England.
'Which is only partly true.
'Because Ireland's real dream is to someday win the World Cup.
'And in 1990, we were almost there!
'As in, for the first time, we'd actually managed to qualify.'
That was some game last night.
Amazing. 1-1 against the mighty Dutch.
Another triumphant draw!
Hey, you know what me and the Irish team have in common?
Where do I start? We're both amazing at drawing!
Ha-ha! Yeah.
And word-play!
Yeah, this is what it's all about, buddy.
Passion, patriotic pride,
and poorly-constructed rhymes.
I thought you said it was all about beating the English.
Oh, yeah, it's mainly about beating the English
but it's also about beating the Koreans, Buddy.
That's right. And the bloody Egyptians.
Yeah, and the greasy Italians! Yeah!
Schillaci?
Schillaci!
Hi, Dad.
Say hello to the holidaymobile.
Borrowed it from Francie Feeley.
It smells like fish.
It's like we're at the seaside already, isn't it, pal?
In a Titanic kind of way.
The funny thing is I'd go quite well with some iceberg lettuce!
See you, lads.
Go on, ya lanky whore!
I would jump on that barely-Irish bastard
like a big sexy bouncy castle.
You started packing yet, Dave? We're still going?
Of course we're still going. What about the World Cup?
We're not cancelling our holiday for some foreign bloody sport.
"Some foreign bloody sport"? Blasphemy, that!
Liam, what you don't understand is it's not just about football.
It's about this country finally coming into its own. Exactly!
Stepping out of England's shadow. Cos d'ya know what?
We don't need them. We don't need anyone.
Don't need anyone.
Yeah, of course yeah you've got to be worried.
We're happy with a draw
and we've got to prove everybody right that it was a good draw for us.
Apart from these English people who do have Irish grannies.
Exactly.
It's a bunch of English lads kicking a ball around in Irish jerseys.
It's not nationalism, it's flagism.
Listen to me, Mr Man.
If you had any sense, you'd be the one printing the flags
and the banners and the T-shirts.
That's right. You need to board the good ship Charlton, Liam,
or you'll be left to rot here on your old island of old rotten shite.
Are you drunk?
I'm a little bit drunk.
Brilliant(!)
Give it a lash, Jack.
Seriously, Liam, I don't want to go to Donegal.
Would it be weird if I stayed here?
And I don't want to watch the World Cup on foreign soil.
I won't understand the commentary.
It's the same commentary! And the same soil.
There's no soil like Boyle soil.
Look what you've done to Trisha!
Jesus. Are you all right, pet?
Talking Heads have broken up.
Her favourite band.
Ya see, she's not upset about Donegal, she's just upset
because some stupid band broke up.
SHE CRIES LOUDLY
You are on a one-man mission to make this family miserable.
Look, we're going. It's holiday time
and there are more important things in life than football.
Name one!
Family! Oh, yeah.
The family needs this, Debs.
Oh, he's good. He is good.
We've had a tough year.
What with Fidelma getting pregnant and Trisha failing her exams
and Martin knocking down the wall, and Sinead... Well, Sinead!
I've done a bunch of stuff you don't know about.
We need this break.
We need to reconnect with the land of our fathers,
and escape the hustle and bustle of Boyle.
Hustle and bustle? COCKEREL CROWS
That! Right there! Manic suburban cockerels crowing willy-nilly.
We need to get away from this racket.
We need a bit of Moone time, Deb.
Yeah. I suppose.
Hi, lads! Will I throw this in the fish wagon?
Well... Moones plus one.
And ye know Dessie is coming too?
Maybe we should stay.
Yeah. Oh, great.
Makes more sense when you think about it.
Come on, lads.
Oh, thank God.
I thought that was me!
HORN BEEPS Martin!
Oh, balls!
Why does Dessie have to come?
Cos Dessie is part of the family now. Sort of.
And Fidelma wants us to spend more time with him.
So why's Padraic coming? It's not like he got one of us pregnant.
Ha! Not yet anyway!
You know it was Martin's turn to bring a friend.
Remember last time Sinead brought the Green Giant?
Don't call her that!
It's not her fault she could only eat peas.
I can only eat peas.
Hi, dudes. Any room at the inn?
Hop in there, Desbo.
Give it a good lift there, love. It's pretty heavy.
Come on, you're not that pregnant!
You're bringing your keyboard?
Well, I know how much you like music, Trisha,
so I thought it might be fun to... Great!
♪ We're on the road to nowhere...♪
Oh! We're across the border! So long, Roscommon!
Keep an eye on your things, folks.
Time to break out my new holiday look.
It's inspired by Marty McFly in Back To The Future Part Two.
But I'm Martin. If anyone should be Marty McFly, it should be me.
Tell it to last week, Martin.
Oh, wait - only I can do that.
I love it, Padraic. Now all you need is a "Doc Brown"!
Don't worry. I've got that covered.
Who are you meant to be?
Oh, I'm Maradona.
But erm...
Martin got confused.
Irish speakers make me feel weird.
I don't know what they're saying
but I always think they're judging the rest of us.
So, are we stopping soon or do we have a toilet bucket
or what's the craic?
Huh?
Oh. I can feel it coming.
Things are getting loose.
All right, come on, lads.
Martin!
(Oh, balls.)
Not too shabby there, Desbo!
Forget to turn off the immersion, did ya?
I got to turn it back on.
Here we are!
Can't wait to explore this futuristic landscape,
see if I can rustle up some plutonium for the journey home.
I suppose I'll just carry on with my work as a doctor of something.
Wait, wait, wait. Why do I need a suitcase?
Careful with that precious cargo.
What?
Is that just soil? No, sir. That is Boyle soil.
Ahh! My own private embassy!
Ah, yeah! Hasn't changed a bit.
Just as awful as I remember it.
Come on, I'll show you where the bedrooms are.
Now you're talkin'!
You know, Trish, I think this break
will really help you get over Chalky Heads breaking up.
Yeah, it's a great house to cry in.
Have they even cleaned this place since we were last here?
No, I don't think they have.
'I can only eat peas.'
I see this little shanty townhouse hasn't changed.
OK, look, if you all want to walk back to Boyle, that's fine by me.
OK. I'll see ye at home so.
Martin, how big is this bloody embassy?
Come on. We're leaving this dump.
Wait, you're running away from home? I'm running away from holidays.
That's not a thing.
I just think if Dad got to know him a better, he'd like him.
I mean, you like him now, don't you? He's one in a million.
Do you think I'm talking about Jack Charlton?
The big JC. Leading us to the promised land.
I'm liking the sound of this chat, lads. Mam?
Sorry. Yes. Dad will come around.
As long as you promise one thing. Anything.
Don't impregnate his daughter.
Sorry, Debs. Never been a man for promises. Don't have the time.
Right. Family activity!
I'm going to the arcade. Right.
The rest of us are going to do something together, so help me God.
Is it a dork fancy dress competition?
Listen to this.
There's an ancient Celtic burial dolmen.
4,000 years old it is.
I mean, what an insight into our nation's history that'll be.
"..and the dolmen is within walking distance of Irish goalkeeper
Packie Bonner's house."
Ole! Let's go honour the Bonner!
Are we nearly there?
We've been walking for one minute, Sinead. That's where we came from.
Wait, where's Martin? He must've gone to the arcade with Trisha.
Ya see? When we're up here, wherever he is, we know he's safe.
Yeah. Not like in Boyle, with all those drive-by shootings.
You know, maybe we should cross the road and head back, buddy.
No, Sean, I just feel like an immigrant up here, ya know? Right.
With their mad language and funny ways. I'm loyal to my own town.
I miss the comforts of home.
You know that we're still in Ireland, right? It's not Boyle.
I mean, it's not far. I admit it, I'm stuck in my ways.
Always have been. You're a Boyle-ist.
If we have to put a name on it, then yes, I'm a Boyle-ist,
and my heart yearns to return.
Which is why we should cross the road and head back.
Oh, yeah! This is the wrong way. Exactly.
MUSIC: "Psycho Killer" by Talking Heads
WOMAN SOBS AND MUTTERS
Hello.
Are you OK? You look sad.
I'm sorry, I don't speak Irish. I...
Oh, my God, I'm so sorry.
Can I share your mourning rock?
Yeah, that's where I hurt too.
DOORBELL RINGS
He's not home.
Well, yeah, he's probably in Italy, with the team, isn't he?
It's weird that he has no goalposts or anything in his garden.
But look at the indentations in the grass.
Bet you that's where he put jumpers. You know, for goalposts.
Shall we take a photo?
We have dead grass at home.
Cheap bloody guide-book. What did he say?
You're not going to believe this,
but that's exactly where the jumpers were.
Oh, wow!
Football history.
Packie Bonner!
Holidays!
It's going to get dark soon, buddy.
I'm worried we're gonna miss the match. Ya think we should go back?
Wait! Look at that house over there.
Do you see what I see?
That's how this works.
Those are the Roscommon colours!
Yes! Nobody else has those colours(!)
You're getting on well. Dad's definitely warming to you.
Yeah.
Er, not sure I love the nickname he's given me though.
I'm sure you misheard him, Dessie.
Maybe.
It really is peaceful up here.
Yeah, it really is, Life-Wrecker.
I feel so connected to this land.
The history, the undiluted pride in the language.
This is Ireland!
No, I think it's Cameroon. Who are we playing anyway?
Romania. Our sworn enemies.
Since when? Since now, Liam!
We can't watch the match on that.
We could build a bonfire and sing auld songs of our fathers.
Right, we're finding a pub.
Pap, pap, pap. Right and a papapapap.
And the knock and the big Boyle elbow. Ah, the old Roscommon knock.
Opening doors and hearts for 3,000 years.
That's right, yellow and blue are also the colours of Romania.
COMMENTARY: Minutes away from the biggest game in Irish history...
Bloody soccer, huh?
I just don't get it, Life-Wrecker.
Me neither. Bunch of rich fellas kicking around a pig's bladder.
Pretending to be.. To be Irish. It's just flagism.
Exactly. I was just saying the same.
Sweet mercy.
Did they meet the Pope?
Come on, Ireland!
COMMENTARY: Ireland's sworn enemies, Romania, take the field...
This is the biggest day of our lives.
Here you are, love, good timing. We're just about to start.
A clock tower!
Now all I need is lightning.
And a car that can travel through time.
COMMENTARY: And now a nation rises to its feet.
I wonder whose national anthem they're going to sing.
They're singing 'as Gaeilge'!
I suppose we're the lucky ones to be born Irish.
Those lads choose to be.
That's a good point...Dessie.
Thanks...Liam.
Mr Moone. Mr Moone.
♪ You'll never beat the Irish! ♪
ALL: # You'll never beat the Irish!
♪ You'll never beat the Irish!
♪ You'll never beat the Irish! ♪
'And so the Moones joined all the families of Ireland
'in cheering on their green giants.'
Come on, you green giants!
Oh, isn't this great?
I feel like something's missing though.
Oh, you're right. More drink.
LOUD CHEERING
Come on!
'And hundreds of miles away in Genoa,
'their green giants heard the roars across the seas.
'They fought like heroes, like 11 Cuchulains. And with the hope
'of making a good country great,
'they battled for 120 long minutes, and...
'..drew. Yeah, they drew, they drew again.'
COMMENTARY: Ireland nil, Romania nil...
So what happens now? Penalties.
I don't know if I can take it. This is faminesque.
COMMENTARY: The coin toss has determined that Romania will go first.
Jack Charlton can only stand back and watch.
THEY GROAN
COMMENTARY: One-nil.
THEY CHEER
1-1!
ALL: Oooooh!
COMMENTARY: Cascarino!
And that is Daniel Timofte versus Donegal's Packie Bonner
We were at his house today.
That's right.
LOUD CHEERING
COMMENTARY: And now it's all up to David O'Leary. The nation holds it's breath.
Come on, David O'Leary!
SHOUTING AND CHEERING
Come on!
Yes! Come on!
♪ Ole, ole, ole,
♪ Ole, ole...
♪ Ole, ole, ole
♪ Ole, ole, losers ♪
So...what's for dinner?
'The very next morning, in a haze of euphoria,
'Liam Moone commandeered the football bandwagon and rushed
'his family home to share the joy of a World Cup quarterfinal
'in their own home town.'
♪ Give it a lash, Jack
♪ Never, never, never say no... ♪
♪ Ireland, Ireland... ♪
'And even Trisha's musical misery mellowed
'when her angel of the mourning rock
'introduced her to the fragrant sounds of some Rosie Stones.'
♪ ..Ireland, Ireland... ♪
♪ ..sell my soul... ♪
Martin.
Will ya grab the last of the bags from the van, Martin?
Ouch.
You didn't notice I was gone.
Gone from where? Oh, my God.
I ran away. When? From holiday!
We've been on the journey of our lives.
I wasn't in the van.
We knew you weren't in the van.
At least we didn't have to look at that annoying baseball cap.
Double ouch.
That was Padraic's annoying baseball cap.
Oh, balls. Padraic!
OK, back in the fish van, everyone.
I did it, I finally did it!
What did you do?
I set the road on fire!
Yes!
ALL SHOUTING
Come on, you boys in green!
COMMENTARY: Schillaci scores!
Toto Schillaci has undone Ireland's dream
Schillaci.
Schillaci!!
Here we go.
COMMENTARY: It's the final whistle. It's all over here in Rome...
..This remarkable journey has reached its final port...
Cheer up. Who wants a fresh new Irish headband?
No-one does, Dad, it's done.
But we're a new Ireland now,
free from the shackles of the old world order.
Shut up, Liam! You're upsetting everyone.
COMMENTARY: A port of sadness, where ships of defeat float in a harbour of tears.
Do you need a hand burning those, Dad?
'The good ship Jack Charlton sailed into Dublin
'as though they'd won the World Cup.
'Tired, punch-drunk, drink drunk,
'the first national heroes of the new Ireland.'
JACK CHARLTON: We prepared properly. We had a little bit of sun.
We ate well.
And we drank very little.
We're going to change that tonight.
'And as proved by Tony Cascarino himself,
'if you've got enough Irish spirit,
'you don't even need an Irish Granny!'
Subtitles by Red Bee Media Ltd
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