Dave, if I swivel round to the camera, do you think it'd make a dynamic intro?
- Very dynamic, Sebastian. - OK, let's run camera.
- Camera's running, Sebastian. - And swivel.
Hello. My name's Sebastian Gore-Brown.
I used to be a sports documentary film director.
Lawn Bowls: The Real Story.
That was mine. Now, about a year ago when I first heard that Pete Wright,
the notorious bad boy of British boxing, was finally getting his chance
to fight devastating world champion Jose Mendez for the middleweight title,
I sensed a documentary opportunity too good to pass up.
But my faithful cameraman, Dave, and I got more than we expected.
A lot more.
On September 28 Jose Mendez will defend his world championship belt.
I was born to fight.
Against the number one undefeated British contender: Pete Wright.
And he will do this in London, England.
The greatest fighter on the planet is coming down to South East London
to fight Pete Wright, one of our very own.
I've waited a very long time. He's been dodging me for years.
Why you taking this fight to his own backyard?
I thought it would be nice to try fish and chips.
I'd fight him in a phone box if I had to.
Without fighting, I'm nothing.
You could take away my wealth, my fame. You can never take away these hands.
God put his power into these hands.
In return, I will give him the world.
Do I think I can beat him? I'm gonna fuckin' bury him.
Now ask me a sensible question, for fuck's sake!
I'm coming, Inglaterra. I'm coming!
Stand aside. The Thriller In Manila.
Shut up! The Rumble In The Jungle.
Herbie Bush Promotions brings you...
The Melee On The Tele.
How long have you been involved in the sport of pugilism?
I'm sorry. There must be some kind of mistake. I'm in the boxing game.
I've always been an avid fight fan.
But I've only been directly involved in the game of pugisis for about 18 months.
How many pros have you got in your stable?
Pros? No, no, no.
That is a bona fide personal-escort service for business functions only.
My girls work on a strictly "chat and smile but no touch bum" basis.
No, sorry. I actually meant pro fighters.
Yeah, well, Pete Wright only at the moment.
Quality control is the order of the day.
The first boxing competition Pete entered he won.
He was only eight at the time,
and he was small for his age.
That didn't make a blind bit of difference.
He gave them other kids a real going-over.
And I remember I was quite surprised at how vicious Pete was.
- Intense. - Yes, maybe intense is a better word.
All right, Pete. 10 seconds left. Step it up.
- Next. - In you get, son.
Next.
Pete, let him come to you. Work on your defences.
Don't knock 'em all out before lunch, for fuck's sake.
Liven yourself up. Get your hands up.
Where did you get this skinny prat?
Oh, shit. I'm sorry, mate. I'm really sorry.
Oh! Oh!
My hand!
My fuckin' hand!
How bad is it? He'll be able to fight?
That's one of the worst breaks I've ever seen.
That kid's head must be as hard as a sock of snooker balls.
You're gonna have to cancel the fight.
Has your cheese slid off its cracker? I can't cancel the fight!
I'm sorry, but a break like that's gonna take three months before it heals.
Three months? I don't bloody believe this!
Do you know what this means?
This means I'm finished. I'm washed-up.
I'm a laughing stock. An also-ran...
This is all your fault. Who the hell are you?
- I'm Jimmy Connelly, Mr Bush. - And what idiot hired you?
I wasn't hired. I train here. They needed extra sparring partners.
- I didn't mean it. I'm really sorry. - I'm really sorry. I'm sorry.
- Leonard! - Yes, guv?
Do something painful with this toerag.
- Like what, guv? - What d'you mean, like what?
That's meant to be your department!
If Artie Cohen finds out about Pete's injury,
he'll replace him with another contender and I'll be up shit creek.
We need to find a middleweight that's a free agent.
We gotta find him today!
I don't care how good he is. He's gotta be a body with fists and a heartbeat.
We put him in the ring on Saturday.
I'll fight Mendez. I can still work a bit of the old magic.
Shut up. Serious suggestions, please, Leonard!
You're a featherweight.
- Guvnor. - What?
- How about that kid that hurt Pete? - Him?
He's got two hopes. Bob Hope and no hope.
- What was his name? - I'll look it up in the files.
Oh, no. Shit. Shit!
You said this was fly-on-the-wall, not spy-in-the-cupboard.
Investigative journalism knows no boundaries.
I wouldn't be doing my job if I didn't surprise you occasionally.
One word of warning, if you intend to use this peekaboo style around the gym.
If surprised, a boxer's natural instinct is to knock you into next week.
Sorry. Point taken, Mr Bush. Thanks.
By the way, it's Connelly, the name you were looking for there.
It's Jimmy Connelly.
- Jimmy Connelly, eh? - Yeah.
Right. We'd best give this Connelly a visit.
Leonard, the car.
The true test for the documentarian is to take any unforeseen circumstances
or dramatic twist of events and roll with the punches.
I haven't even had my first fight yet. I'm a milkman.
To expose to celluloid the story of the lives that unfold in front of him.
Jose Mendez versus Jimmy "The Calcium Kid" Connelly.
So that's what I did. I rolled.
I think I'm in, Mr Bush.
I think I'm in.
Say my name.
Yeah, baby, yeah. Yeah.
Jimmy?
Morning.
We'll be filming you 24 hours a day in the run-up to the fight.
Of course. The fight. Who would have thought it?
Jimmy Connelly fighting Jose Mendez for the championship belt.
So, tell us, how does Jimmy Connelly start his day?
Um...
Well, as you probably noticed,
I normally start off in the morning with a set of 50 sit-ups. Yeah, sit-ups.
...49, 50.
I wasn't meant to have my first fight for another six weeks.
And here I am talking to you guys.
I feel like Rocky
when he finds out he's gonna have a pop at Apollo Creed.
Yeah.
Make sure your mum gets that, will you, mate?
My mum's a massage therapist. She works from home.
I've drunk three pints of milk a day for as long as I can remember.
I've never had a filling or been knocked out.
My bones are as hard as rock.
Very proud of Jimmy. He's been a wonderful employee for four years now.
He's got an impeccable work record.
And he's been voted Milkman Of The Month
14 times by the housewives of Lambeth.
Good morning, Jimmy.
One of these days you'll have to come in and whip me up an omelette.
I mightjust do that, Mrs Fletcher. Have a lovely day.
I'm helping people in the community
stay strong and healthy by drinking milk.
Eventually, I wanna be a regional manager.
My first week on the float I got a bit of a kicking
by kids who made off with a dozen eggs and two pints of semi-skimmed.
My mate Stan was boxing as part of an aggression-management course,
so I went down to check it out.
I got into boxing and being down the gym from the off.
Morning, Vera. Two pints today?
No, I'll have two pints today, please, petal.
First time I put my gloves on and walked out into the gym,
everything just sort of felt all right, like I was part of something,
a big family that nobody could mess with.
My old man once said:
"Without family, man is alone."
He's deep, my dad.
I never thought I'd wanna leave my milk round early.
- Hello, boys. - Morning.
Hello, Jimmy. How are we feeling today?
Blindin'. 100%, thanks, Mr Bush.
That's good. That's what we wanna hear, champ, eh? Champ.
Ow! Christ!
Come to my office. I've got something that might help with those reflexes.
- Paddy, wake up. - Crack him with a Mary Anne!
Knock the bugger bandy, Seamus!
Oh, Mr Bush. How are you, boss?
Peachy. This is Jimmy Connelly.
Jimmy, this is Paddy O'Flanaghan.
I've spared no expense in hiring him as your personal trainer.
He's a legend in the field.
That's brilliant. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr O'Flanaghan.
Well, you've got strong hands, that's for sure.
But do you have the stomach for it, kid?
I've trained some of the most wondrous pugs in the ring
over the past half-century.
Men with punches that'd move mountains.
But if you haven't got it in the breadbasket,
it doesn't mean a damn thing.
Now, tell me, kid, have you got it in the breadbasket or not?
- I guess so. - I knew it.
I saw it in you the minute you came in through that door.
If you could just remind me of your name again, lad, we can get started.
It's Jimmy Connelly, Mr Flanaghan.
All right, then, Johnny. Let's get to work.
Have you had a long-standing relationship with Mr Bush?
No, not at all.
I was in the boozer last night having a pint, or two or three.
And I overheard Mr Bush talking to a pal of his
about needing a boxing trainer.
So I imposed myself, like, and we got to talking,
and the next thing you know, I'm in gainful employment.
I've often found on me travels that fate plays a very big hand
in all things connected to the boxing ring.
Got a spare fag, mate?
Thank you.
I met Jimbo back when we was little kids, wannit?
His old man and mine were drinking partners.
They'd fanny to our mums they were taking us to the park,
but they'd sneak into the pub and stick us underneath the table.
We played marbles, they got pissed.
We went to school with each other for a while, but I got expelled.
For stabbing the gym teacher with an HB pencil.
The nonce tried to have a fiddle with me nuts in the showers.
He plays up all nice to the camera, don't he?
I don't, though. I don't care.
Come on!
It's incredible, really. Jimmy boy fighting Jose Mendez.
When he told me, I thought it was a windup.
They should let me fight him. I'd do a Tyson, bite his ear off.
I'd have it for tea with some baked beans and nice cup of rosie.
- Girls, show us your pink bits. - Sod off!
Eh?
Rotters.
Anyway, Jimmy, out of the goodness of my heart,
I've decided to help you in your quest for glory
and become your official motivator.
- Motivator? - Motivator, Jimbo. Motivator.
Ali had a motivator. Sugar Ray had a motivator.
So why shouldn't The Calcium Kid?
Listen to this. I was working on this earlier.
Float like a boat Sting like a flea
Nut him on the chin And he'll fall in three.
That sort of thing. It's all right, innit? Don't worry about a thing, pal.
With me in control of your psychological preparation, Mendez will get his.
And if he doesn't, we'll catch up to him and give it to him South London style.
Eh-eh!
- Dave, are you OK? - You all right?
You all right, mate? He's sparko, mate.
Technical knockout. Round one. Ding-ding.
Don't be a mug Act like a thug
Throw a big right And it'll be good night.
Oi, Stan. You have to pay for those doughnuts.
Course I will, Jimbo. You know I'm good for it.
Get them knees up, Johnny!
There's fuck all wrong with that, is there, lads, eh?
Cut camera, Dave. Dave.
It was the fight they all wanted to get.
But it was actually Herbie Bush that actually get up and go'd
and actually landed the gig.
That's why... Not there, you nana. I'm ready when you are.
This promotion is really gonna put
Herbie Bush Management right up there, you know.
Sipping Singapore slings with all the heavyweight promoters.
It's the fight they all wanted to get.
But it was actually me, at Herbie Bush Management,
that actually get up and go'd and landed the gig.
Don't you think being Pete Wright's manager helped in any way?
Afternoon nibbles. No crusts on your sarnies, the way you like it.
And I've put a slice of lemon in your tea, like they do on the "continente".
On the "continente".
Artie and his people are not aware
of Pete Wright's injury and the change of opponent at this present time.
They fly in tomorrow, and I always feel it's best
to kind of do these things face to face, you know,
once I'm sure they're actually in the country.
You know what [BLEEP] Yanks can be.
Maybe you can put a bleep over the pricks bit.
Jose Mendez is a unique combination
of God and minister.
Inside the ring, he is Olympian. All powerful.
Gloriously crushing his foes
with one sweep of his almighty hand.
Outside the ring,
his heart, grace and generosity are overwhelmingly humane.
He is the chosen one for many of his generation,
and he embraces this responsibility completely.
I once said to Jose: "To win the championship belt
is to win the adoration, love and respect
from people all over the world."
Five years later, that belt hangs around his waist.
Now, you tell me... was I wrong?
Meanwhile, back at Bush's Boxers,
Jimmy was stepping up his training
under the expert supervision of Paddy.
Make mine a pint, Johnny.
And get us some of them pork scratchings while you're at it.
Jimmy, we're going to the airport.
Jose Mendez arrives in a few hours and it's time to tell the world
about Jimmy "The Calcium Kid" Connelly.
The Calcium Kid?
Do me a fucking favour.
- All right, Pete? - Yes, Jimmy. I'm golden, thanks.
Apart from the fact that a fucking milkman
is fighting in my place for the championship of the world.
All right. There's no need to get upset. I was only asking.
No need to get upset? No need to get upset?
- I'll show you upset! - All right, son. Easy!
I know how you must feel, Pete, but...
I really appreciate you doing this, son.
It's important that we let Jose's camp and the press know
about your injured hand as soon as possible,
so we can all move on, yeah?
Piss off, Bush! I'm only coming cos I wanna see Jose face to face,
and tell him when he knocks the lid off the milkman and my hand heals up,
Pete Wright will fight him anywhere, any time!
That's a fair comment, son.
You can piss off an' all, you fucking...
This is bollocks. If Mendez was on that flight, there'd be press everywhere.
- They're undercover. - My arse.
As soon as Jose walks through, they'll come swarming out the woodwork.
What Herbie didn't know was they were at the wrong terminal.
It's the oldest trick in the book, delaying the VIP disembark.
They're trying to throw the foxes off the scent.
But we know better.
They must have called earlier about the terminal.
Any chance of picking it up a little, pal?
Come on, Dave. Keep up.
What do you mean, move? I set this whole thing up, you stupid cow!
I'm responsible. Jimmy, get on the floor.
- All right. - Get down. I'll get on your shoulders.
Get up.
You couldn't organise a bunk up in a fucking brothel, Bush!
- Artie! Artie! - Get after him, Dave.
This is absolutely typical!
Artie! Artie!
Twat!
It looks like the Yanks wanna play sneaky.
Two can play at that game. Tomorrow I'm calling my own little press conference.
My dad gave me some good advice once:
"Speak if you have something to say." I always thought that was clever.
He never thought I'd talk to the press.
Jimmy, the guvnor's downstairs. He'd like a word in your ear.
Right, before we go up there, a couple of things.
When the press find out you're replacing Pete, they'll go mental.
I want you to go out there and be yourself, champ.
And if you feel a little bit overwhelmed,
Herbie Bush will be there to lend a hand.
I've had extensive experience with these kind of characters, so... fear not.
We need to get the people behind Jimmy "The Calcium Kid" Connelly.
And we need the press to help us do that.
Now, I have been meticulously planning various publicity stunts
over the next few days that's gonna make you a household name, champ.
Holdhouse name. Right you are, Mr Bush.
Jimmy, here, put this on. Wear it loud, wear it proud.
But calcium is spelt with a C, not a K, Mr Bush.
It's very important to be original in this game, Jimmy.
You've got to keep your opponent guessing.
Calcium C, Kalcium K. C, K. He's flummoxed.
Thank you, ladies and gentlemen, for coming here today.
- Where's Jose Mendez? - We wanna see Mendez.
As I was saying, we have an announcement to make.
Pete, if you would, please.
Due to a broken hand, I will be unable to fight Jose Mendez.
- How bad is the injury? - How did it happen?
- I was sparring with a skinny prat... - Now to my special announcement.
Thank you, Pete. Fighting in Pete's place
is the best-kept secret in British boxing.
Let me introduce to you the next Middleweight Champion of the World,
Jimmy Connelly!
Come on, Jimmy. Get up here.
Champion? Fuck off. He's the milkman.
- A fucking nothing. - Pete...
Shut up, fatty. I don't wanna hear it!
Jimmy Connelly.
Hello.
- It's... - Speak up.
...The Calcium Kid, not the milkman.
Jimmy. Jimmy.
- Are you actually a milkman? - Yes, I'm actually a milkman.
If you live in my catchment area, I'd be happy to visit you on my round.
Jimmy, what's your record?
He's undefeated. Next question.
- What's your training regime? - I've been doing a lot of sit-ups.
Jimmy, do you really think that you stand a chance against Jose Mendez?
Get a shot of him.
Well, my dad once said,
"There's normally a winner in a two-horse race."
Obviously neither me or Jose are horses,
but I think the moral of the story is anything can happen.
I believe that.
Jimmy Connelly.
That's enough.
It's all about the rhythm in boxing.
From the small time I've spent with Johnny,
I can see he's got more in his little finger
than that Mickey O'Jackson fella has in his whole body.
It's great to be finally back in the training game.
I feel like I've drunk a pint from the fountain of youth.
So, Paddy, I hear you've had a few run-ins with the Boxing Board of Control
about the well-being of a couple of your fighters.
Let me see, now.
I lost Steve "The Undertaker" Jones to heat exhaustion,
followed two days later
by the unfortunate passing of whatshisname O'Reilly
to a blood clot on the intelligent side of his brain.
See that? Back page of the Standard is worth its weight in gold.
- This is a huge result. - It's great, Herbie.
Guvnor, guvnor. Artie Cohen's here.
- Artie Cohen? Here? To see me? - Yes.
Jesus Christ!
Artie Cohen was Jose's manager and big-time fight promoter,
a connected New Yorker whose rap sheet and reputation
suggested he didn't suffer fools gladly.
You held a press conference without my approval!
This I find objectionable.
And at this press conference you announced... that a milkman
is gonna fight the great Jose Mendez for the championship belt.
You was in transit, yeah,
when the situation with Pete Wright's hand arose.
I felt I had no choice but to act on our behalf.
I would do nothing, nothing to harm our relationship.
The only relationships I have, Mr Bush,
are with my fighters and my wife.
So unless you can throw 11 jabs in three seconds
or enjoy eating strawberries from between my toes,
you stand little chance of qualifying as either.
- OK. - However...
in spite of this, what shall we call this, this massive screw-up...
Cock-up.
...I am a man of honour.
I've decided to proceed with this farcical engagement.
Jose Mendez came to England to fight
and fight is what he will do.
Your milkman better know his way around a ring.
Yeah, well, obviously he's a bitjet lagged.
Blade, man.
You're amazing.
OK. Is my hair OK? It's fine?
You have to see the chain.
OK. Can you get that a little bit up? Thank you.
Being the best...
No, being the greatest pound-for-pound fighter in the world,
and the chosen one for many of our generation is something that I can...
Shit! Fuck!
Family values...
I believe in family values, education
and abstaining from excess.
- Honey, it's just a little hot, OK? - What is this? Turn the camera off.
- There's no scheduled interview. - They said they were with you.
- Is there a problem, Mr Cohen? - A problem?
Well, my definition of a problem is a trivial annoyance
overcome with quickness of thought.
This is a situation.
And what exactly is your definition of a situation?
Two limey fuck filmmakers
hanging from their skinny pricks over an eighth-floor balcony
for shooting unauthorised footage of an Artie Cohen fighter!
This, this is my definition of a situation!
- Careful. This is expensive. - Motherfucker!
Hello, Jimmy boy. You all right, mate?
- Get the drinks in, Jim. - The man of the hour.
What can I get you, Jimmy boy?
- Three pints of lager and a lemonade. - We're all behind you, you know that?
And I hope you knock ten tons of shit out of that wop bastard.
- He's actually Mexican American, Barry. - They're all the fucking same.
There you are. Whisky's on the house.
Thanks, but I shouldn't be drinking, what with the training,
so I think I'll just stick to the lemonade.
I see. Now that you're a fucking big shot with a fancy film crew,
you think you're special?
Too fucking good to have a drink with the boys, are you?
No. No, not at all, Barry. Cheers.
- Thanks. Thanks a lot. - It's not on the house any more.
Eric Bristow: Amateur.
Stan "180" Parlour: Mustard. Watch this.
Aagh!
- Sorry, mate. - Oi! What you done?
You shouldn't have been standing in front of the dartboard.
Calm down, it's all right.
Stan, cool it.
Come on!
- You're Jimmy Connelly, in't ya? - I thought it was you.
He's just dealing with some of his anger-management issues.
- He'll be all right in a bit. - You've got lovely eyes.
Get the drinks in if you're not gonna help us.
That should help bring the swelling down.
You should be able to see out of it in a couple of days.
Thanks, Jimmy.
"The Calcium Kid's got a lot of bottle."
"Plucked from obscurity, Jimmy Connelly has become the lead player
in a story of David and Goliath proportions."
"His boxing skills are unknown,
but this is the stuff of fairy tales."
"As The Calcium Kid himself so aptly put it,
'There's normally a winner in a two-horse race'."
My dad would love seeing our name in the papers.
He always said the Connellys had potential.
I'll save it for him.
It wasn't his fault, you know.
There's only so much a man can take.
I don't blame him.
Sorry. What wasn't his fault, Jimmy?
Oh, nothing.
- Good night. - Night-night.
Of course I'm proud of him. What mother wouldn't be?
People shouting his name out in the street.
It's done wonders for business, as well.
Speaking of which,
you two look as if you could do with a massage.
I could fit you both in before my five o'clock if you like.
Shall we cut the camera?
Give us your autograph, Jimmy.
Yeah, sure. Have you got any paper?
What are you doing?
Write: "To my lover, Mags."
Jesus Christ, Jimmy. Keep that indoors.
You've got your reputation to think about.
Anyway, look who's made the front page of the Currant Bun.
It's you!
Jump in, champ. We got a bit of publicity to do.
I'm in a bit of a hurry now. Maybe another time.
Come on. I've got an operation to run. Come on.
Keep it tight. Keep it real. All right, love. Freak.
I've arranged something
that will do wonders for your image in the community.
Connelly, the rules haven't changed.
Jacket off in class.
- Yes, Mr Holiday. - Ugh! Sweaty pits!
Enough!
I've got a class to teach next door,
so I'll leave you to answer any questions my students may have.
Feel free to ask any questions you like.
- Is your name Jimmy Connelly? - Yeah, it is.
Cos it says here, "Jimmy Connelly is a wanker."
What you gonna do with your head when Jose Mendez knocks it off?
I read you can break wooden planks over your head cos your nut is so hard.
- Never actually tried that. - Pussy.
I said I hadn't tried it. I didn't say I couldn't do it.
Now, it's very important none of you try this at home, all right?
So If you wanna grow up strong and healthy,
all you need to do is drink milk every day.
Before I go, I'd just like to say one more thing,
something my dad told me when I was a kid.
If you have a dream, follow it...
cos it mightjust come true.
- See you. - Bye, Jimmy.
Now, we do realise that this is a wonderful opportunity for him.
And as a token of our support,
we've given him a week off work on full pay so he can get on with training,
and an unlimited supply of full-fat dairy products
to help with the dietary aspects of the training.
- All right, Stan? - Jimbo.
Are you ready, son? Couple of stretches.
That's it. Lovely. We're off.
- Here you are, Jimmy boy. - Thanks, Mr Jones.
Good luck, son, and don't forget, bleedin' knock him spark out.
He has been coming to my shop since he was a little lad
to buy sweets, beverages and Embassy Number One cigarettes
for his mother, the massage therapist.
Jimmy has been coming in here to get his hair cut for years.
It's great for the community.
We've been having it hard around these parts as far back as I can remember.
In honour of Jimmy, I'm giving away free special boxing-glove sweets
to every kiddie who comes in to buy ciggies for his mummy.
Uncle Curtis got a special haircut for him for the fight.
Go on, Jimmy, son.
You can do it.
There's only one Jimmy Connelly!
One Jimmy Connelly!
On bumping into Angel,
Jimmy felt like a space rocket, jetting off towards the stars.
Hello. We haven't properly met. I'm Angel.
Yeah. Yeah, you are.
Can I have my knockers back, please?
Yeah. Shit.
Jimmy.
On bumping into Margaret Livingstone, Jimmy was brought crashing to earth.
- Jesus. You frightened me. - I had a dream last night.
We got married, lived in a house with two kids and a little doggy.
Archetypal case of delusional personality disorder,
or, in layman's terms, an absolute nutter.
You're the best boxer, we should be together.
It's really not a good time right now.
What with the training for the fight and everything else... Bye.
Why are you trying to turn Jimmy against me?
Help! Pervert!
Miss, please don't.
Don't try and get in the way of destiny.
In and cut! Good. Gather round.
This is a big deal, you know.
You're singing the national anthem live on TV at a world championship fight.
Jimmy! Give us a smile, mate.
Do yourselves a favour and go out there
and show the world what The Altar Boys are all about, yeah?
- Yes, Mr Bush. - Let's go.
We have a press conference with Jose and Artie.
We gotta capitalise all this attention that we're getting.
So far the world has seen the nice side of Jimmy "The Calcium Kid" Connelly.
But tonight we're gonna show 'em the fighter, the animal,
the man that's gonna rip Jose's head off in the ring.
The nation has to believe that you are a creditable contender.
If you follow my directions exactly and we can weave a little bit of Bush magic,
then we can make that happen, son.
Yeah? Good. Come on. Let's go.
Mr Mendez, Mr Mendez. Great to have you here in London.
- Thank you. - How are you enjoying your stay?
London is a beautiful town, man. I'm really happy to be here.
Do you have any concerns about the last-minute change of opponent,
and is it affecting your training for the fight?
All of God's children bleed the same.
This fight won't go past the first round.
Is that your prediction, a knockout in the first?
- It's God's prediction. - I have a question.
Where is this replacement fighter?
Maybe he scuttled under a rock
when faced with the reality of standing toe to toe with the great Mendez.
Yeah, well, that's very funny.
- Good evening. I am Herbie Bush. - Who?
What's the matter with you?
I'm very delighted and excited to present to you
Jimmy "The Calcium Kid" Connelly.
- Put it on. Put it on now.
How does it feel to be plucked from obscurity
to fight against the best pound-for-pound fighter in the world?
This must be a great privilege for you.
"It feels like my birthright."
"It's time to bring the championship belt
back to its rightful place in Great Britain."
"These foreigners have had the title long enough."
"We used to own America,
and on Saturday night I will own Jose Mendez."
You will what? The only thing that you're gonna own
is the record for the fastest defeat ever in title-fight history, OK?
- Long live the Queen. - Come on!
Never mind the milkman, Mendez. I'm your man!
It's not the milkman. It's The Calcium Kid!
Let's show the world who the true champion is.
- Out, out, out! - I'll be seeing the lot of you!
Don't you fuckin' worry! I'll be seeing the lot of you!
Something about a banana?
Jose Mendez chose this fight as a way of unifying
the United States with our brothers in England.
And we get repaid with this disgraceful display of racism.
This is personal, amigo. On Saturday it's gonna be just you and me
and the pain I'm gonna bring to your fascist world!
- This press conference is over. - He fucking bit me!
36, 37, 38...
You idiot! As if things aren't bad enough already,
without you making a prat out of yourself!
What did I do?
"Fascist fighter shames nation"?
"Jimmy 'The Calcium Kid' Connelly will fight Jose Mendez
for the middleweight championship on Saturday."
"He will be doing so without the support of this newspaper."
"Connelly showed up at pre-fight press conference in full Union Jack attire
and lambasted Jose Mendez in the name of Queen and country."
What does lambasted mean?
Oi, Jimmy.
- We're right behind you, Connelly. - You lead the way and we will follow.
Jim, I think we should walk away. Don't talk to those people.
A bit faster, Jimmy. Run. Jimmy, run.
Jimmy, hold up, son. Where you going?
Dave, we should hang back.
I had my suspicion when he called himself The Calcium Kid,
but who was to know?
He has disgraced the entire community.
Jimmy Connelly has been relieved of his milk round effectively immediately.
At this point in time that is all I have to say. Thank you and drink milk.
Didn't do yourselfjustice last night, did you, Jimmy?
Laid it on a bit thick, didn't you, son?
What I gave you was an outline, an idea, a concept,
for you to take and finesse and make your very own.
Let's say I am the map and you are the driver.
Whether you turn left or right or do a U'y is entirely up to you.
But before the press conference
you told me to follow your directions exactly
so we could weave a little Bush magic.
- All right, Jim? - All right, Stan.
Let us in. These guys keep following me about.
- They're freaking me out. - So it's true, then? You are a fascist.
Course I'm not a fascist. They got it wrong.
Never doubted you for a second, Jimbo. Let's teach these dicks a lesson.
- Who's that at the door? - Hold this.
- It's Jimbo, Mum. - I don't want you talking to him.
And don't think you're going out until you've folded the laundry!
And to think we thought you were such a nice boy.
There's only one Jose Mendez!
Your mum told me that your dad's in prison.
I know you've had a rough couple of days,
but it's important that we cover all aspects of your life
or we're never going to stay faithful to the project.
Can we talk about it, Jimmy?
My dad lost his job, so my mum took a course in massage therapy.
To earn a bit of cash.
I think he found it a bit difficult.
I know he wanted to be the breadwinner.
More and more clients started coming over the house.
Then one day when I was at school my dad just flipped.
He ended up hitting one of them over the head with a kettle.
Eight years. Attempted murder.
Don't you ever visit him in prison?
No.
No. He doesn't want me to see him locked up.
I remember once he told me...
"Nothing's out of reach if you've got long arms."
I think deep down I'm doing this whole thing for him, you know?
Make him proud of me.
So he can hold his head up high no matter what, cos his son's a success.
- I like your bangle. - Thanks.
That's really nice of you to say.
- What are you doing here? - Don't be so rude to your guest.
You should be flattered a pretty girl takes an interest in a mutt like you.
Right, I'm off to bed, then.
Oh, if you boys want another massage,
I'm sure I've got another couple left in me before I crash out.
No, we're fine, thanks, Pat.
Oh, suit yourself, then, peewee. Nighty-night.
It was so nice to spend some time with your mother.
I think she and I could become really good friends.
I don't mean to be rude...
but it's not normal.
Turning up in strangers' kitchens, eating fish fingers is not normal.
I...
This really is all too much.
Everyone thinks I'm a fascist. The whole country hates me.
I've lost my milk round, and to top it all, I have to come home to this!
I need to sleep.
I'm exhausted.
Please, leave. Please.
You bastard.
What's she doing? She's mad.
- You've gotta be kidding. - The fight's tomorrow.
I need to see first-hand how you're shaping up.
Now, come on, stick it on me. And no holding back, mind.
- I'm not gonna hit you, Paddy. - I don't know why I'm wasting me time.
I'd find a bigger set of balls in a girls' hockey team.
Jesus Christ! You really are as much of a dairy fairy
as everybody says you are!
Shit, Paddy. Are you all right? Paddy?
What a right hook.
You've got the devil hiding in that punch, laddie.
We'll have to give it a name.
I know. We'll call it the Lily O'Dwyer.
Why Lily O'Dwyer, Paddy?
Because it's a thing of beauty,
and let's leave it at that, or you might bring a tear to a glass eye.
What a punch!
This isn't working out like you promised.
Everybody hates me and loves Jose.
All you've gotta do is knock Mendez out and you'll be golden gloves again.
What if I don't knock him out? He is the undefeated world champion.
We'll cross that bridge when we get there.
Get cracking. You've got two hours of training
before our exclusive interview on XFM radio.
It's your chance to set the record straight all you like. Don't blow it.
I never swallow. It's murder on the vocal chords.
And we have our first caller.
Hello, caller. You're live on the air with Dave King and Jimmy Connelly.
- What's your question? - All right, Dave.
I live on Jimmy's street and his mum's a brass.
My husband's been doing the housekeeping on her for years.
- And his old man's in the nick. - You've got it wrong...
Are you suggesting that Jimmy's father is a convict
and his mother is a prostitute?
You git!
Pat was a little upset at the public allegations
made about her choice of profession on radio.
I'm a massage therapist!
I'm good with my hands.
She gave Jimmy his marching orders and rented out his room to Margaret.
Whoever that is, it'd better be fucking good!
All right, Jim? What you doing, pal?
All right. I've had a bit of bother at home. Can I stay over?
Your timing's rotten. I've got me bird over. I'm getting me nuts wet.
- Stan. - Oh. OK.
Stop showing off in front of your mate.
Wait there, all right?
Listen, mate. Why don't you kip in the lockup?
There's blankets and a torch in there.
It's cosy once you get used to the draughts.
Yeah. Yeah, OK.
Oi, Jim.
Tomorrow's the day The Calcium Kid's on his way
The world might think he's a loser
But watch out, he's a bruiser.
With some trepidation
I decided to visit Pete on the morning of the fight.
Our documentary wouldn't be complete
without some kind of resolution from its original subject.
I dreamt about this night
ever since I was a little kid.
The night when Pete Wright
won the championship belt,
to gain respect throughout the boxing world.
Along comes the milkman, with his bony fucking chin,
and shatters my dream!
- I was robbed! - I think we should leave now, Dave.
I was fucking robbed! Stick this in your poxy documentary!
And if you ever come back, I'll serve the fucking pair of you!
Come onl Move it!
Hurry up, you fat git!
Morning, Jimmy. Sorry, time to wake up.
Life was so simple a week ago.
I miss my milk round.
I felt like I was doing something good, you know.
I want my old life back.
Ever since my dad went away, everything's been messed up.
He always gave me the best advice, you know?
If he was here now, what do you think he would say to you?
I don't know.
Why don't you find out?
Prisoner 3729 Connelly.
Dad. You're so big.
There's not much to do in here, son, but lift weights.
I've qualified for this inter-prison power-lifting tournament.
Got a competition against the Scrubs next week.
So who's all this mob, then?
It's OK, Dad. They're making a documentary about me.
I'm fighting Jose Mendez for the world title.
Yeah, I've been reading about that in the papers for the last few days.
You landed me in it with the black fellas.
I'm not a fascist, Dad. It was a big misunderstanding.
Good. Cos I didn't bring you up that way, did I, now, eh?
Remember what I taught you when you was a kid about all that stuff?
- Colour means nothing to a blind man. - Exactly.
What is so important you had to come and talk to me about?
Thought we had an arrangement.
I know we did, Dad. It's just...
I'm a bit confused about everything that's going on.
Does it feel like everyone's trying to pull your trousers down, Son?
Yeah.
Yeah. That's it exactly.
My advice to you is start wearing a belt.
Just because you can't see the sun behind the clouds
doesn't mean it isn't still shining.
You're OK. Win or lose tonight, I'm proud of you.
Oh, that's a cocktail, innit?
Yeah, it's very pretty.
- We need to talk. - Shoot. I'm all ears.
Your services are no longer required, Mr Bush.
Everything you've got me to do has been a total disaster
and I've had enough.
Look at him all serious.
No, I'm sorry. Seriously, what can I do for you, son?
Do you fancy a nice steak breakfast, steam bath?
Or a Singapore sling? My treat.
I'm notjoking, Mr Bush.
You're a pathetic excuse for a manager.
You're fired!
Fired?
What does he mean, fired? You can't fire me.
Without me, there is no fight, there is no Calcium Kid.
I think you're a bit confused there, Mr Bush.
Because without me, there is no Calcium Kid.
And without me, there is no fight.
And you know what? I've just decided I don't want any of it.
Take your Melee On The Tele and shove it where the sun don't shine.
Leonard.
Tell him what you're gonna do to him if he doesn't fight Mendez.
Something painful, guv?
If you're trying to scare me, you'd be better off by saying, "Boo!"
Jimmy, come back. We can talk this through, champ.
Your pantaloons, guv.
Jimmy! Jimmy, come back here.
Jimmy, open up! It's me!
Jimmy!
- Any idea where he might be? - No, sorry.
You must know something, you posh prat.
I don't think there's any need for that.
What about you, you soppy Irish sod?
I've not the slightest inkling, Mr Bush.
But I know a man who might.
- We're looking for Jimmy. - Why? Has he done a Burton?
If you mean has he disappeared six hours before the fight, the answer is yes.
Had enough of your silly bollocks, has he, Mr Bush?
It would appear that way.
Now, do you have any idea where he might be?
What's it worth to you?
Not my Merced...
Oi, Jimbo. Silly bollocks is here to see ya.
Can I talk with you? I've had a good think,
and I realise I've not been so fair with you so far.
I've been so stressed putting together The Melee On The Tele,
the dolly birds, you know, The Altar Boys...
I've neglected my job as your manager.
Jim, please, son. Don't do this to me. Don't do it to me.
If you don't fight, I'm ruined.
I'm all washed-up.
You cost me my job and my reputation.
The whole community's turned against me.
What can I do to make it up to you, champ? I'll do anything. Anything!
You can start by getting me my old job back.
I'll talk to Mr Bennet straightaway.
I'll tell him that whole fascist thing was all my fault,
and that you were an innocent pawn in the whole thing.
I want you to donate a state-of-the-art body-building gymnasium
to H-Wing at Halmsworth nick.
And name it after Clive Connelly.
But that's gonna cost me 20 grand.
Take it or leave it.
Why do I get the feeling I've got me trousers round me ankles?
My advice to you, Mr Bush: Start wearing a belt.
No, Dave. This is hip-hop styles, mate.
Go low and wide. Over there somewhere, all right?
Later.
This is world championship boxing!
I thought I'd pop in and wish you all the best for tonight's fight.
It's gonna be a hard one, but I know you can do it.
Just give him a couple of them underneath. Know what I mean?
Did you know that according to the theory of aerodynamics,
and as may well be demonstrated by means of a wind tunnel,
the bumble bee shouldn't be able to fly.
Because of its size, weight and shape in relation to its total wingspan,
flight should be impossible.
However, the bumble bee, being unaware of these scientific facts
but possessing considerable determination, does fly.
And makes a little honey, too.
Johnny, I want you to close your eyes, take a few deep breaths
and visualise yourself sitting in a beautiful field
beside a quaint little stream.
A lovely breeze blows over your face
and you feel safe and calm.
Safe and calm. Safe and calm.
An angry Jose shot out of the stream,
grabbed me by the ears and dragged me under.
The pre-fight anxiety.
I've seen it in many a great champion.
We'll have a look at a video of one of Jose's scraps
and figure out a way to batter that bruiser for a loop.
That'll calm your nerves.
I'm gonna die. Knock me out so I don't have to fight.
Please. Do it. Hard as you can.
Don't hold it against me if it takes a few wallops.
Don't be such a chopping block, Johnny. You're in great shape.
You wouldn't know great shape if it was with you on a treadmill.
"Come on, Johnny. Give us the press-ups. Do the jigs."
"Bejesus! There's a leprechaun in the ring! Punch him!"
I'll bleedin' knock you out, you mad old Irish bastard!
That's it. Get angry, work yourself up.
Give it everything you've got, Johnny.
And it's not Johnny!
It's Jimmy! Jimmy!
OK, OK.
I know what your name is, son.
You've taken enough and it's time to take no more.
You're ready, son.
Right here, right now, you're ready.
It's time to show the world that you're no palooka.
It's time to show the world that Jimmy "The Calcium Kid" Connelly
is a champion.
Well, this is it. Tonight's the night.
We're all here for you, and I thought you'd like this.
Spelt with a C.
There you go.
You look really nice, Jimmy.
- Thanks, Mr Bush. - That's OK, son.
There's a full house out there waiting for you.
Your bones are made of granite,
your punches are harder than the kick of a mule,
you've got a one-way ticket to the big time and it's time to get on the train.
Let's do this!
Here's your gloves.
I can see it in his eyes He's ready for the prize
Rumble, kid, rumble!
Surprise, you slags.
- Oh, my God. - Shut it, Bush!
- Get in there, the lot of you. Move it! - Keep it running.
We could win a fucking BAFTA!
- Get in there! Move it! - What is that camera crew doing here?
I said sit down!
So, as you can see, I've decided to arrange for our own little fight night.
We've got everything we need right here.
And we've got the cameras
to make us famous.
Right, first up, national anthem.
Come on, then, girls. Let's hear you. Come on.
Enough of that bollocks.
You're giving me a fucking nosebleed. Sit down before I shoot the lot of you.
Right, now for our first fight of the evening.
A one-round, all-out scrap till one person gets knocked the fuck out.
Fighting out of South East London,
with a record of no fights, no wins,
no draws and no knockouts.
Ladies and gentlemen,
a useless slag with no prospects in the game:
The milkman.
You come here to fight, right?
Yeah. Yeah, I did.
So fuckin' move, then!
Move!
And fighting out of Las Vegas, America,
originating out of a mud hut somewhere in Mexico:
Jose Mendez.
You very fucking strong man. Look at you.
Imagine you're a corner of a boxing ring.
Make a square round our fighters. Move!
Don't be shy. Flash a bit of flesh and let's see what you're made of.
Here we go, then.
Let's get ready to rumble!
I want a good, clean fight. No holding, butting or gouging.
Break when I say break, and when the bell sounds, come out fighting.
It's bad enough I have to fight this punk for money in the ring,
but now you want me to fight him for nothing in a rat hole?
I'm Jose Mendez, Middleweight Champion of the World,
the chosen one for our generation.
This son of a puta whore isn't even fit to lick the sweat off my balls.
OK, my friend. Now we're gonna do it for fun, all right?
- This is it, Jimmy. Come on, son. - Get in there, son.
Come on! Just hold him.
- Go on, Calcium Kid. - Come on!
That's it!
Come on, Jim!
But on second thoughts...
Fuck the milkman, and let's get straight to the main event.
Fuck me, kid, you do have a hard head.
Leave him alone! You bully!
Never mind the milkman, sweetheart.
When this is all over, you come over to my place
and I'll show you a real man.
It should have been me, Jose.
It should have been me.
- Not the milkman. - It's not the milkman.
- You what? - It's The Calcium Kid!
The Lily O'Dwyer!
Yes!
Pete was convicted of abduction with murderous intent
and sentenced to 28 years.
He's keeping fit, hoping to relaunch his career on his release. He'll be 61.
Jose claimed he heard a celestial voice
whispering to him down the barrel of Pete's shotgun.
"Hang up your gloves. Come fight for the Lord." So he did.
Paddy got a three-fight contract as Prince Naseem's trainer.
The Prince was reported to find Paddy's techniques unique but effective.
Herbie decided to expand the business
and branch out into Middle Eastern entertainment.
Bush and his three bellies are touring East Anglia and the Home Counties.
Stan's rap shot straight to number one,
landing him a deal with an urban record label.
He's enjoying all the perks of his new life.
And as for Jimmy "The Calcium Kid" Connelly,
well, he can tell you himself.
I got promoted after the whole Pete Wright thing.
Mr Bennet keeps calling me their own little national hero.
- Look! The Calcium Kid! - Come on, Jimmy!
Little rascals.
I got a call last week from Artie Cohen
about the possibility of doing a few exhibition bouts in the States.
I suppose I could take him up on it one of these days.
But for now I'm back on the float.
Morning, Jimmy. Why don't you come in and whip me up a milkshake?
I might just do that, Mrs Connelly.
Not today, fellas, eh?