Mean Machine Page #6

What do you think

Danny will say in the dressing room?

I think he'll be saying

there's only 45 minutes left to play.

Yeah.

Settle down, boys. Have a listen.

We ain't won nothing yet.

All we've got is one goal.

Now this half is when we're gonna earn it.

Midfield, tuck in,

get round behind the ball. Monk?

Good work, Monk, just don't leave us

exposed at the back, all right?

- Mouse?

- It's my nose.

- Bill, you come on for Mouse.

- Where am I playing?

You take his place in midfield.

Frenchie, have a look at his nose.

OK, we've botched it, but we're

one-nil down. Mr Hayter, when the...

You think about it!

We're getting beaten

by a bunch of worthless criminals.

- I'm doing my half-time talk, sir.

- Sit down.

Have you forgotten who they are?

They're the dregs of society,

and they're in the next dressing room.

And they're laughing at you right now.

Just remember this:

every man here is playing for his job.

Including you.

- You wanted to see me?

- Yes.

- What's going on?

- You wanted a game.

Yes, but you never

said anything about winning.

You never said nothing about losing either.

Before leaving us,

Nitro wrote a confession.

He admitted killing Doc.

He said you knew about it,

and you sent Doc to your cell.

Now that's accessory to murder,

and that's 20 years.

You'll never get that to stick.

One whiff of this will kill you

with the parole board.

You could be with us for some time.

So I think it's in everyone's interest

if you lose this game.

- I can't do that.

- You've done it before.

You had everything they ever dreamed of,

and you threw it all away.

Meehan has given it away again.

For f***'s sake, Danny, I was open.

I didn't see you.

Looks like he's in a world of his own.

Wake up, Meehan.

The ball's played out to the left.

Hibert picks it up

and moves forward to the 1 8-yard box.

The defender cuts inside.

He plays it to Hayter,

who knocks it through for Downes.

Oh no,

he's been brought down in the area.

Could be a penalty.

The ref's waved play on.

What goes through Monk's head?

- Scary thought.

- I'd hate to think what he dreams about.

It's getting naughty out there.

Positively brutal.

Are they fighting or doing the tango?

No, they're definitely fighting, Bob.

Billy's chasing the ball like a terrier.

Shame he hasn't got

the skill to match his enthusiasm.

- Shame he's f***ing useless, Bob.

- Abso-f***ing-lutely, Bob.

Ratchett's taken out Cigs.

Looks like the guards

aren't taking any prisoners. You get it?

Whatever, Bob.

You, f***in' watch it.

No, you f***in' watch it,

you fat bastard Indian!

That's going a bit too far, innit?

- He took a dive!

- Number 7, violent conduct. Off the park.

It was a dive, look!

- Come on. Do one, now.

- F*** off!

The cons are down to ten men.

It's an early bath for Raj,

which is really gonna put

pressure on the Mean Machine.

It's disappointing.

It's not gonna be easy out there.

That's right. And they're taking full

advantage of the extra man on the pitch.

Walker's through ball to Mr Gayle,

who plays it, and Hayter, and Monk...

Superb save, way down to his left.

All right!

and the cons are holding out.

And the Monk's going

on another walk-about.

But this time

he plays it safe to Trojan out wide.

- All Troj has to do is look up.

- And pass it.

- Pass it.

- Pass it.

- Pass it.

- Pass it.

Pass the f***ing ball!

Yes!

Goal!

Two-nil for the cons, ten men down,

their liberty taken away from them,

locked in a cell for 23 hours a day.

and today, our boys had their day.

What's up with you?

For the last hour of my life,

I have been free!

Mean Machine! Mean Machine!

Mean Machine! Mean Machine!

Yes!

It's the guards to kick off.

Mr Williams lays it back for Mr Hibert,

who whips a beautiful ball into the box.

Monk's got it covered. Safe as houses.

- You've gotta love the Monk.

- Gotta love the Monk.

What's Monk doing?

He's left an empty net!

He's lost the f***in' ball!

He's lost the f***in' plot.

Guards' goal. Two-one.

Yes!

Hey! Stop f***ing about back here!

Get the ball up the park!

All right. My fault.

It's no longer just a game out there.

There's a match on now.

- Have a word, Dan.

- F*** off, Trojan.

- Come on, let's go.

- Come on, boys.

The cons kick off.

But what is he doing?

He's given it straight away.

He's hit the bar.

You see, there's no cohesion,

there's no character.

The Mean Machine need their star player

to pick up his game now.

- What is Meehan doing anyway?

- It's like he's not even on the pitch.

What's up with you?

I never touched you.

Looks like Danny's injured.

You're cheating now.

Once a loser, always a loser.

- Dan, where did you get hit?

- Down there.

Doesn't look too clever, boys.

- I can't see anything.

- Let's get him up.

Come on.

Don't put no weight on it, Dan.

Meehan's leaving the pitch.

Let's hope they bring a sub on.

- It's 1 1 against 9 out there.

- All right, got it.

- Get it fixed.

- OK, we got it.

Shove up and shut up.

The guards are moving the ball nicely.

Neat passing.

But the cons

are determined not to give up.

There's nothing wrong with that leg,

is there?

- Why don't people just let me play?

- Didn't think you'd sell us out.

Not after the big "it's your time" speech.

- Is there something I should know?

- He's f***ed something up.

Could be a strain.

It's getting tough.

The guards are putting the pressure on.

F***in' hell, Massive, help us out.

We've only got nine men on!

Get a sub on.

Walker to Marsden.

Downs, wide to Hibert.

Hibert clips it forward.

Walker brings it down.

The cons are swamped at the back.

Ratchett's free in the area.

Oh, no!

Yes! Yes!

- Two-f***ing-two.

- Good one! Good one!

Thanks, Danny Meehan.

Two-two.

Right, now a third. Get up there!

Ref. Sub.

- Mass, look...

- It's your life.

Ratchett's brought down Billy the Limpet.

And that's like kicking a puppy dog.

Give me my boot.

Yes! Ref! Ref!

I'm coming back on.

- Sit down.

- Forget it, Meehan.

Who's coming on?

- Me.

- Him.

- I am.

- You're playing like crap and you know it.

- Who's in charge here?

- On you go.

- I'm in charge. Danny's coming on.

- Hold it!

- Listen, I'm the owner.

- You?

- Yes.

- The owner?

- Yes.

- Behave. Manager's decision. You, on.

The great Meehan returns to the pitch.

Yeah, that's all we need. If he carries on

playing like he did before he went off,

we may as well all go home now, Bob.

Ketch knocks it out wide to Trojan.

It's amazing. The guards still find it hard

to deal with this man.

I'm with you here if you want.

Shoot! Shoot! Pass it, I'm on! Pass it here!

Trojan plays it into the centre.

I'm free there!

- Well, I didn't see you, did I?

- Really?

Chiv, pass it!

Chiv, pass it!

Oh, God. That was a meeting of minds.

Not a pretty sight.

Meehan's trying to redeem himself.

Yeah, but he's gonna have to do

a lot of work to manage that.

Meehan is now everywhere.

He is bobbing and weaving, Bob.

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