Ted! How are ya?
Ah, Dougal! Hello there. Did you have a good time?
What?
Great!
Everything here's been fine.
Nothing wrong here at all. There's no problems here at all.
So, how was the school reunion?
(k eep talking.)
Oh, ahem... I was at the old school reunion...
(Where's this go? )
Father, do you think a cup of tea might calm you down?
Father McGuire, you're back! Thank God!
You've got to do something!
Father Crilly's gone mad. It's this football thing.
God Almighty, that time of the year again!
Yes. And he thinks Father Byrne's trying to find out his tactics.
It's only a stupid game of football, for goodness' sake!
Mrs Doyle, I'm sorry but no!
There's nothing stupid about football.
And nothing stupid about the annual All Priests 5-a-Side Over 75s'
indoor football challenge match against Rugged Island.
Please, Father. Do something. Oh!
Anyway, Dougal, you were saying? About the school reunion?
Well, I didn't recognise any of them.
Guess what? They'd all become firemen.
I was the only one who wasn't a fireman. How's that?
Dougal, er...you didn't go to a fire station by mistake?
Ah...
Ted, come on. You're going a bit mad.
I don't know what you're talking about!
There's nothing wrong with me, everything with me is fine.
Ted, I'm going to have to do something you won't like.
Call it female intuition, or whatever the male equivalent is.
But this isn't going to go down well in the Ted camp.
I think...
Sorry. You were going a bit too mad.
My God, what have I done?
Look at the room!
You're right, Dougal, I have to get a hold of myself.
Ted, being bugged by Dick Byrne, that's not likely, is it?
Come on, Ted. Look at you! You look terrible.
I've been having trouble sleeping.
I'm going to try this stuff, Dreamy Sleepy Nightie Snoozy Snooze.
Yes. It's a bran-based alcoholic chocolate sleeping aid.
It's banned in most European countries. That means it's very good.
I'll go and get us both an ice cream. That'll calm us down.
Ah, that'd be nice.
Where are you going to get an ice cream?
- There's a van outside. - Is there?
It's not going to sell much ice cream there.
They're on to us, Cyril! Go, go, go, go...
(Tyres screeching)
Come on, Father Cullen! Get your arse in gear!
Father Whelan, you can move faster than that! Get into it!
Missing the target from there, you need shooting!
I'm very tired. I'm 85!
God, that's a defeatist attitude, Father Cullen!
I'm holding you back for extra training!
You'll stay here until seven! Do 15 laps of the pitch!
But...
Off you go...
I don't know! The attitude of those lads.
There was a time when the over 75's team putting their hearts into it...
kick the (BLEEP) ball! What's wrong with you?!
All over the place.
Dick Byrne's lot have a new fella. He's flip hot - an Italian!
Oh, the Italians know about football. And the world of fashion.
Do you remember that fella who was so good at fashion
they had to shoot him?
Where's Nick Doorley? Father Jack's not here, Nick's not...
Our main bloody strike force and they're not bloody here!
You wouldn't think Father Jack could play football.
No, then you see him... Beautiful player. Poetry in motion.
Did you tell me once Jack had a trial with Liverpool?
No, he was on trial in Liverpool.
I wonder where Nick is.
God, yeah. Jack's good but if anything happened to Nick...
we'd be up to our necks in flip.
And with this new fella on Dick's team,
we need Nick at the very peak of his powers.
So, there's no way he'll be able to play?
No. No, he's dead.
It's completely out of the question, then?
Is it? Is it completely out of the question?
Ted, you're clutching at straws. C'mon lads.
(Ted) You're right.
(Fax machine bleeps )
Ah, isn't that nice?
"Sorry to hear you died," from Father Heggaty in Chicago.
Does that coffin has a fax machine?
Yes, it's the latest thing. Look at this...
This display tells you how long you've been buried...
and this one tells you how deep down the coffin is. Isn't it amazing?
With these humidity controls,
Father Nick won't start decaying till...sometime next year.
Niall, you must stop buying this catalogue stuff.
It's a complete waste of money.
I mean, look, a remote control wheelchair.
Why would you need that?
You probably get more use from those fake joke arms.
Oh, those... They seemed funny at the time.
They reminded me of my own arms.
Fake arms! Niall, honestly!
What situation could ever need a radio-controlled wheelchair,
or a pair of joke arms?
Only, I would imagine, a completely ludicrous one.
Yes.
Do you think you can win this match without Father Nick?
I don't know. He has a great partnership with...
Had, he had a great partnership with Father Jack up front.
God, if Dick Byrne wins... We're using the forfeit system again.
Last year when we lost...
Dick made me photocopy my own rear end.
- (Phone ) - Excuse me.
They'll never let me back in that library again.
Hello? Oh, it's for you.
Hello?
(Dick) 'I am going to win again, Ted!'
Ha! That's what you think, Dick Byrne, but we've got some...
Wait a minute! How did you know I was here?
(Dial tone, ice cream van jingle )
Damn you, Father Dick Byrne!
Yeah, all right, all right.
More bad news, Dougal. Oh, no, no, no...
I've just spoken to Father Ned Fitzmorris.
He tripped on a paving stone and one of his kneecaps fell off.
There's no way round it. I'm going to have to put him in goal.
God, Ted, I can't wait to get back into the old physio role again.
Running on to the pitch with the magic sponge
and doing all physio-type things.
Dougal, do you know what the sponge does?
It...soaks up germs.
Dougal, I don't want you to take this the wrong way...
but I was thinking of a new role for you this year.
Right...
Erm... I'd like you to... keep an eye on the corner flags,
and make sure no one steals them.
Ah, thank God.
I thought you were going to give me something completely stupid to do.
But, wow! Watching the corner flags! Big responsibility.
Football, football, football,
football, football, football, football, football, football!
What you men see in it, I don't know.
A load of men kicking a bit of leather around a field.
You men! The things you think are great fun!
Like going to the films. Men sitting around looking at films.
And roller coasters! A load of men going up and down on a metal track.
And sailing! A load of men in a big boat floating around in the sea.
And shouting! A load of men going around shouting! And so forth.
Well, Mrs Doyle, there's more to football than you think.
In fact, I got you a book about it.
All right, Father, I'll give it a go.
Ted, Jack's been like that for a good long time.
He wouldn't be dead again, would he?
Ah, no. He's probably dreaming of his old sporting days.
More water.
Well, today's the day.
- Got the hang of it yet, Dougal? - It's harder than you think, Ted.
The trick is to try and keep your eye on it.
Argh!
Ah, hello, Ted.
I was...er...just... eating...my breakfast.
Dougal, that's a fib.
What are you really doing?
I...I've lost the flag, Ted.
I just put it down for a second and the next thing it was gone.
Ted, you're going to have to give me an easier job.
It's too much, too soon.
Dougal. Look at Father Jack.
Would he give up so easily?
Look at that steely determination. That air of defiance.
That...
I've just realised, Jack's been asleep for 14 days.
Oh, my God!
He's drunk an entire bottle of Dreamy Sleepy Nighty Snoozy Snooze!
(Dramatic music)
Go on...
my son.
Well, there he is, Ted.
Father Romeo Sensini. 17 caps for the Vatican Over 75s.
Looks after himself. Drinks only very, very fine wine.
Can climb two flights of stairs.
Needs only one nun to help him get out of a chair.
- You haven't a chance. - That's what you think, Dick.
Father Hackett's been through rigorous training.
- He's never been fitter. - Ha!
(Snoring)
(Ted) Father! Father, please wake up!
What are we going to do?
I can't believe we're in this completely ludicrous...situation.
God Almighty, Mrs Doyle,
how could you find this type of thing interesting?
That's what I thought. Sit down.
Look at this.
Ooh!
Ready? Ready?
(Whistle )
Close him down! Close him down!
Ah, Mary, have you got me glasses?
Sensini's got an open goal.
If we don't do something he's going to score in a matter of minutes.
Where did he come from?
Get rid of it! Get rid of it!
What?
Turn around! Concentrate on the game!
Is that Father Crilly?
Hello, Father.
Someone's going to have to get tighter on the Italian.
Go wide! Go wide!
Argh!
# You're not singing you're not singing
# You're not singing any more!
# You're not singing any more! #
Penalty!
Typical Italian.
(Rapid heartbeats )
(Very slow heartbeat)
He's sent the keeper the wrong way!
Yes!
Oh! Goal! Goal! Yes!
(Dick) Yes! Yes! Goal!
Listen! I know you're tired and have to be back in the home by eight.
But remember one thing...
You are carrying the whole of Craggy Island on your shoulders.
- Metaphor! - It's my back.
Jim, it's a metaphor, didn't mean it literally. Don't jump into the flow.
Now, play the best game of what remains of your lives.
I want you to rip Dick's team to shreds. Metaphor again, Jim.
Now, get out there and let's lick some arse!
kick some arse!
We're going to win, Cyril.
I want a souvenir of this game.
Go get me a corner flag.
Oh, yeah. Yes.
Good!
Go on, Father Jack. Go!
(Mrs Doyle ) Come on!
(Crowd cheering)
Hey!
Oh.
You're shit! Ah!
Open goal! Go on Father Cullen!
What?
Don't look at me! You've only the keeper to beat!
Go on! Go on!
Yes! Yes!
Have I done something wrong?
Whoo!
Better luck next year, lads!
You lost, Cyril.
Goodbye, Dick. Goodbye, Cyril!
Can they not stay and have a drink?
No. Dick has to go home and do his forfeit.
The forfeit! What is it?
Dick... He has to kiss Cyril on the cheek!
Brilliant! Cyril won't have a clue what's going on!
Dick'll hate having to kiss a man! He's notoriously homophobic!
Ted, you should have this. You deserve it.
No. I think we'd better head on home.
Ah, go on Ted, have a glass.
Wait a second!
These are fake hands!
- Got the forfeit, Ted! - Oh, God.
Dick said it was a special forfeit
because you're such a cheating bastard!
All right, open it! The tension's killing me.
Don't worry. He probably wants you to clean his car or some...
What is it? Break it to me gently!
All right. "Ted, by this time next week, you have to..."
- What? - "You have to..."
"kick Bishop Brennan up the arse!"
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