Tommy's Honour Page #5

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Happy Hogmanay.

Look at this house.

- Happy Hogmanay, son.

- Thank you for coming, dad.

Nancy sends her best.

This weather's awful hard on

her.

She'll not be dining with us

this evening, I'm afraid.

I'm sorry to hear it.

Do you know I left St. Andrews

after you spoke to my mum?

No?

Well, I did.

I give up my job.

A good job it was.

I had no place to go.

I went back to Whitburn.

Your Tommy came looking for me.

Young men look for things.

I'm not a thing!

I'm your son's wife.

I'm Mrs. Thomas Morris

just as you are,

and I'll thank you

to remember it.

I was his mother

before you were his wife.

Yes! You brought him

into this world!

Hallelujah! You raised...

You have no right

to speak to me like this!

I have the same rights as any

wife.

But none of a mother!

It was a girl.

Did they tell you?

My child...

There was very little life in

her.

She lasted three short weeks.

And many a day

I wish her fate was my own.

Tommy chose me.

Do you understand?

You might think otherwise,

plenty do.

I know what people think of me.

I'll not be running off again.

I don't know why you load yourself with

that much gravy and then not eat it.

I find that very wasteful.

It's a lovely holiday you've

made.

Thank you.

We'll have many more.

Yes...

We will.

Davie and I have been thinking.

We stage our own matches.

That way we can

play any course, in any town.

And if they haven't a pair of

crack golfers to play against us,

we play singles,

me versus Tommy.

- Just like we did for the gentlemen.

- Aye, exactly.

So let's just say

we start at Prestwick.

We take their money.

Aye, obviously.

And then off we go on tour.

Perth, Musselburgh,

north Berwick.

In a month, we've made our way

as far down as Newcastle,

Hoylake, even Blackheath.

Then we just come back off our

tour with pockets full of pounds.

Buccaneers with golf sticks.

- I'll drink to that.

- Aye, to the buccaneers.

- To the buccaneers.

- Buccaneers.

"Golf-o-mania"

they're calling it.

At Blackheath, they even held

a tournament for lady golfers.

Don't their bosoms get in the

way?

Well, judging by their scores,

perhaps they do.

I should like to meet

the one who came in last.

Well, perhaps she might need

a new Caddie, Davie.

Yeah, perhaps she does.

Have you heard

major Molesworth's latest claim?

He's declared that he and his

son can beat any two men

willing to take them on.

This man's mad.

Um, there's a method to his

madness, or so it seems.

He's set on making Blackheath a

show place to rival St. Andrews.

George, did you really come

all the way from London

just to talk about this

Englishman?

Not at all.

I came to talk with the two

golfers I hear cannot be beat.

That's more like it.

What are you knitting there?

Secret-keeper.

How far gone are ya?

About three months, I reckon.

- Who else knows?

- Only Tommy.

Now you.

You think your mum

will like me better now?

Come on.

Come on, Davie, come on!

Come on.

Come on!

Plain country minister...

Stands humbly before you.

A minister who knows the role

he is to play in god's world.

And I ask... do you?

Acceptance of one's destiny.

Humility before god and man.

Did not our lord

renounce all possessions

seeking only to follow the path

his father set before him?

Not for him

to grasp at worldly advancement.

Yet some among us do grasp.

Some think to rise above their

station.

Seeking glory.

Seeking status.

I'll not listen to this.

Come, Meg.

Worldly desires

cannot change the plans

our lord has for us!

It's the north Berwick town

council that's invited us.

Put up 1,000 pounds.

The town council? But they don't

have a player in the match.

No.

But they reckon people

are gonna come from all over,

you know, holiday-makers

just to watch

the great Tommy Morris

and capable Davie Strath beat

the tar out the park brothers.

You're joking?

Yeah, Archie Croyle threw me out

last night, he did.

And you know

I'm his best customer, so...

Well, the cross keys pub's

no place for a respectable man.

Look...

Doctor says it's broke.

- I won't lift a club for a month.

- Oh, Davie.

Davie, they're never gonna

put the match off.

Well, they'll have to,

won't they?

Sally.

Come, David.

Yeah.

He hasn't won a money match

in a dog's age.

I'd be better off

playing with Jamie.

You did right, my love.

The way he putts, though, you'd

think he'd had his eyes closed.

He's so proud

to be your father, Tommy.

Being there with you.

How many more chances is he gonna

have to be your golf partner?

Don't wanna leave you, though.

Don't be daft.

Lizzie will be here fussing over me.

The girl practically lives here.

Go with your dad.

And win.

If you say so.

Your mother is

a very clever woman.

So I suggest

you stay here as well.

"Grand match in north Berwick."

"All eyes turn to the links for

the upcoming match between Willie

and Mungo park of Musselburgh

- and the Morrises of St.

Andrews."

"Unprecedented sums

ride upon the outcome.

The park brothers are...

Favored to prevail"?

- What?

- What a load of shite.

Don't worry, dad.

Just give those putts a good

spanking and we'll be all right.

Now each side

is to play a single ball

alternating shots.

Park brothers have the honor.

Play away, gentlemen.

Come on, Willie.

Come on, Willie.

Go, Tommy.

Come on, Tommy.

Straight in the hole, Mungo.

Don't worry, brother.

We know who's holding their

putter.

It's our day, dad!

Come on!

Morrises are one up.

Here it is.

We can do it in two, son.

Just get it near the green.

No, I can get it from here, dad.

Give me the chipper.

Sure you got your line

right there, old Tom?

Looks a wee bit off to me.

Here, stop this!

Stop this!

Stop this at once!

Play is suspended

until order can be restored!

Stop it!

Do you hear me?!

Stop it right now.

Andy?

- Yes, sir?

- Get a rope right away.

- We'll rope them in.

- Yes, sir.

Now, that's enough of that.

Thomas Morris?

Thomas Morris?

Aye, son.

Telegram, sir.

Excuse me, sir.

I got the rope, sir.

Oh, that's my man.

That's exactly what I'm after.

Golfers!

Follow me!

Tommy.

Well done, Mungo!

- Yes!

- Park brothers one up.

The match is all-square

with one hole to play.

Come on!

I hereby declare...

That the Morrises of St. Andrews

have beaten the parks of

Musselburgh

by one hole at the last.

When's the next train back to St. Andrews?

I have to get back now.

The next train's at four o'clock.

You'd be better off taking the boat.

It'll take hours off your journey.

I'll get Lewis to take you.

- Lewis!

- Aye.

Would you take young Tommy

and Tom up to St. Andrews?

- He has to get back.

- Aye, the boat's ready to go.

Come on. Thank you.

Tom Morris,

I have your winnings here, sir.

- Thank you.

- Many congratulations

on your victory today.

Cold water.

Lift your leg.

That's a girl.

That's it.

Why did you not give it to me?

We only had

three holes left to play.

But it was sent to me, not you.

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