All language subtitles for The.Phantom.of.the.Open.2022.720p.WEBRip.800MB.x264-GalaxyRG

One, two.

We're gonna start very soon, Maurice.
Sorry for the wait.

Don't worry yourself.

Can I get you anything, Mr. Flitcroft?
A cup of coffee?

-Do you have any tea?
-Yeah, we have some tea.

A cup of tea. Just a cup of tea.
Thanks, love.

Milk, six sugars, please.

-Six?
-Yes, six, please.

Thank you.

Hey, can you give me some levels, Maurice?

-Some what?
-Talking. Can you just talk to me?

Has the interview started?
'Cause I just ordered some tea.

That's perfect.

-Okay. We good?
-We're rolling.

Haven't got my tea yet.

All right, then.

We're good to go in three, two, one.

I'm here with a legend
of the golfing world.

A man who has broken records
and rewritten the history books.

Maurice Flitcroft.

Bless me.

You made your name
in the British Open in 1976.

Now, why did you choose
that particular tournament?

Well, more it chose me, really.

It was a calling.

You Americans might call it a destiny.

And it was an unlikely destiny,
wasn't it?

Because you were working
as a crane operator at the time.

Am I right?

Yes, when I took up
the game of golf in 1975,

I was working full time as a crane driver,
or operator, as you would say.

So, well, tell us
about the young Maurice Flitcroft.

Did you dream of becoming
a sportsman as a child?

I had dreams,

but, you know, where I come from,
Barrow-in-Furness,

it's a small world.

Put it like that.

The only job options for a lad like me
was the yard.

Shipyard.

"Shipyard fodder," they used to call us.

My dad worked there
and his father before him.

You go in on your feet.

You come out in a box.

As a child,

I did have ambitions, of course.

That I might do,
you know, something else.

But any dreams I had tended
to end up in pieces.

When the war came, I was sent to live
with a very nice family in Scotland.

Things were very different there.

They'd say things like:

What do you want to be
when you grow up, young Maurice?

Probably just be
in the shipyard like me dad.

You can be anything you want to be!

The world is your oyster.

I read books.

I learnt languages.

I played the violin.

I played to a very high standard,
actually.

Never mind, Maurice.

Practice.

Practice is the road to perfection.

Or I would have done
if the war hadn't ended,

but it did.

So I was soon back in Barrow.

Ended up shipyard fodder after all.

And it was at the shipyard
that you met your wife Jean, right?

Yes, I did.

I used to apply for other jobs.

I tried lots of different things.

And she'd let me use the post
in the office for free.

She was very kind to me.

In the evenings she ran,
like, a theater group for wayward kids.

We got on like a house on fire.

Pretty soon,

I popped the question.

Jean Patterson, will you marry me?

I promise I'll give you
champagne, caviar, diamonds.

-We'll travel the world together--
-Stop.

Turns out she had a kid.

Michael.

Out of wedlock and all,

which was a big deal in those days.

They call him all sorts at school.

"Son of a whore."

"Little bastard."

Kids can be cruel.

That's the teachers.

So he never knew his dad?

No.

Never even met him.

As far as he knows, he doesn't have a dad.

Well, he does now.

All of a sudden, my own dreams,
well, they were put on hold.

Because we were a family now.

I had to help Michael find his dreams.

Well, take your pick, son.

World's your oyster.

That's for me. Racing driver.

Astronaut. How about this?
Do you fancy a trip to the moon?

No.

-Engineering?
-Yeah.

Want to read my book?

What do you think? Does it go there?

Put it the other way round.

Mikey got a degree.

Ended up a manager at the yard.

I always fancied a pop at academia myself,

but pretty soon, we had not one,
but two more mouths to feed.

Gene and James, twins.

They loved disco dancing.

Even won the school cup.

As for me own dreams, well,

by now they were a distant memory.

But I made my peace with it.

Then came the summer of 1975,

and, well, everything changed.

Mom, just have
a look at the microwave.

I prefer my own one, that's all.

It's gas, Mom.

-Gas ovens are basically mini-bombs.
-Out.

It's not gone off yet
so I think we're all right.

Can you lot shut up?

Get out of the kitchen, Michael.
Thank you.

-Oh, yeah.
-Yeah.

Hey, hey, hey!

Stop doing your stupid dancing
near the new TV!

-It's not stupid dancing!
-Get out.

-We're professional disco dancers.
-That's not a job.

Dad, tell him it's a job.
It is a real job, isn't it, Dad?

Good a job as any.
How do you switch this on?

Dad, I've told you before,
you've got to use the remote control.

Get out of that. Come on, Mike.

This top is Gabicci!

It's Gabicci!

I said can you pipe it down
in there, please?

Quiet, boys!

-Mike, watch this. Can you do that?
-You use that to change the channels.

It's got loads of them.

How many?

Three.

Blimey.

You can use that from anywhere,
providing that the lead reaches that far.

Why can't you just use the switches
on the side?

Yeah, but why would-- Get off!

Why do you have to use the remote?
Why can't you just use switches?

You can, but what's the point
when you got that?

-I might be standing by--
-Shut it!

Dinner is served.

Now you can see we've left Newton
and we're chugging across the Atlantic.

The spacecraft is shown by this--

Look, don't quote me on this, but...

well, it's top secret.

The yard's gonna be nationalized.

Government's taking over.

And Hopkins has put me
in charge of the changeover.

Well.

Good for you, son.

He must have a lot of faith in you,
giving you a big job like that.

Yeah, I suppose.

But it could be bad, Dad.

There's gonna be a lot
of redundancies when the ax falls.

I mean, a lot.

They need you, he says.

So that's good.

What about you?

Oh, well.

I'll get another job if it comes to it.

What job?

I don't know.

There's always the bins.

Come here.

I'm doing--

Maurice.

What is it?

Sit down.

Hey.

I knew a young man once.

Said he was gonna be a somebody.

Promised me diamonds, caviar, champagne.

"Travel the world," he said.

Sounds like you should've married him.

I know you've made sacrifices
for us, Maurice.

You don't have to look after us anymore.

It's your turn now.

For what?

Well, it's up to you, isn't it?

Can't think of everything.

-What we got today, then, Mol?
-Cheese and pickle.

-What?
-My favorite, that is.

Maurice, we've been hearing rumors

there might be some business
going on in the yard.

You heard anything?

Look, I shouldn't be telling you lads,
it's secret.

But...

it's being nationalized.

What does that mean?

Redundancies. Lots of them.

So if I were you,
I'd get looking for something else.

Shit.

I see it as an opportunity,
actually, really.

You know, why not?

What we got to lose?

Seek and thou shalt find and all that.

Willie, there must be something
you've always wanted to do.

If you could do anything
in the whole world, what would you do?

I don't know.

What do you like doing?

Drinking Guinness.

Well, open an Irish pub.

Your own Irish pub in Barrow.

Cliff, you can go back to your old job.

What old job?

You said you did a bank job once.

Right, yeah.

Well, that's a--

-That's a young man's game, that is, mate.
-Oh, come on, lads.

We're in the prime of our lives.

Shouldn't be talking like that.

Yeah, I might go to the pub later on.

I'm going up now, love.

What are you doing?

I've gotta finish this flipping
nun's habit before I turn in.

Well, don't be too late.
You'll hurt your eyes.

Well, it has to be done.

-Night.
-Night.

Night, love.

I believe that the job you do
is fundamental to the future of Britain.

Newton from the bunker.

And now to Watson.

Just misses on the right.

So if he can just get this in.

It's all on this to equal Watson's score.

The title goes to Tom Watson.

On his first appearance
at this tournament.

The new champion.

Tom Watson.

What a dream come true.

So there we have it.

What an image to end on.

Tom Watson with the famous Claret Jug.

I hope you'll join me, Tony Marsh,
and the rest of the commentary team

for the Dunlop British Masters--

Dad.

-You all right, love?
-We heard screaming.

-Where is it?
-What you looking for, love?

Golf.

Golf?

Aye, golf.

-Golf?
-Golf?

Saw it last night on me new telly.

Going to have a crack at the British Open.

Ten grand if you win it.

Ten grand?

Bloody hell.

How do you go about getting
in the British Open, then?

I don't know.
That's what I've got to find out.

Bartender, beautician, busses.

Sorry, there's nothing here
about the British Open.

That's disappointing.

Maybe you could ask someone
at your golf club?

-No, I'm not a member of a club.
-Okay.

So do you know anyone
who has anything to do with golf?

No.

Hang on.

Yes, I do.

I do!

-Fingers.
-Right, next.

What is a par?

Par is the optimum amount of shots
you should take on any given hole.

So for example, on a par four,
the optimal amount of shots is four.

Correct.

What is a birdie?

That is one shot under the par.

So for example, par four, three.

-And a bogey?
-Bogey?

I know that one, Dad.
Answer's one of these, mate.

They're even better than I thought.

So shiny, aren't they?

-These were the cheapest ones and all.
-Really?

-Look.
-Crikey.

Number 19.

Need to be a millionaire
to play this game.

-You should see what the clothes cost.
-Really?

Might get Cliff onto it.

...from a Maurice Flitcroft
in Barrow-in-Furness.

Dad! You're on telly!

-And he says...
-No, what?

..."I was wondering how I might go about
getting into the British Open Championship

as I quite fancy lifting
the old Claret Jug."

Well, Maurice,

all you have to do is write
to the Royal and Ancient Golf Club

at St. Andrews in Scotland
and they'll send you an entry form.

But remember,

ask your mom and dad before
you use all their stamps and things.

Always warms my cockles

when we get letters
from keen youngsters like little Maurice.

Left arm perpendicular to the sternum.

Head at 30 degrees.

Knees flexed at 20.

Just try and hit the ball.

What are you playing at?

Sorry!

Flipping heck!

-I don't owe you anything?
-No.

-For all this?
-No. No.

I got all this and all this
from my mate John down the market.

-You got this too?
-Yeah, yeah.

Suede.

It's good stuff, innit?

Hat's perfect.

You what?

Clothes of the gods, Cliff.

Well, he only gets the best, does Jim.

I thought it were John.

John. John. Yeah, John.

Yeah, good lad, John.

These sandwiches look nice, Jean.

Love.

Love, can you stop worrying
about what you look like?

Got to finish filling in this form first.

What does that mean, handicap?

That must be me ailments, I suppose.

Like your false teeth?

Lumbago.

Touch of arthritis.

-Shall I put that down?
-Aye, put that down.

-Hello.
-You all right, lads?

-Here you go, Dad. Get a load of that.
-What's that?

Money so you can practice
on a golf course.

Yeah, we got it dancing on high street.

Honestly, should've seen it, Dad.
They were just chucking it at us.

That's incredible.

What do you hope to achieve?

You know, with this dancing lark?

-Money.
-Birds.

"We're all of us in the gutter
but some of us are looking at the stars."

Who said that?

-Oscar Wilde.
-Oscar Wilde.

What do you think he meant by that?

Don't sleep in the gutter!

Aim for the stars.

I mean, isn't there a trophy
or a world cup or something?

Yeah, think so.

Well, enter it!

Go and win it!

But what if we lose?

Doesn't matter.
At least you can say you tried.

That's the main thing.

There's more to life than money, boys.

-Ain't that right, Cliff?
-Yeah.

Though, having said that,
money is flipping handy.

Especially if you play golf.

-Yeah.
-Cheers!

-Yeah, you're welcome, Dad.
-Thanks.

Look at that, Jean!

Hang on a minute.

It's heavy.

It says...

"Don't need a handicap
if you're professional."

Well, just cross out that other stuff.
Tick professional. Make things easier.

Professional?

-You sure?
-Listen,

you didn't see me practicing this morning.

I am a whisker away.

All right.

A whisker away.

Please welcome on the tee,
Maurice G. Flitcroft.

You all right down there, old boy?

Yes.

Hello, gents.

Are you in the right place, old chap?

Yes, I'm here to join the club.
And I see you're a three ball.

If you care to make it a four,
I'm available.

Happy to join.

-We're waiting for someone.
-Yes.

George.

George Green.

Actually, thanks for the offer, gents.

But on second thought,

I think I'd prefer to play
on my own today.

Hope you don't mind.

Maurice Flitcroft.

Good luck, gents.

Tossers.

Flipping people.

Snobs.

-Bloody--
-Excuse me, sir!

Hello, there.

Allow me to introduce myself.

I'm Bruce Atkins, the steward of the club.

Hello, Bruce. I--

I'm Maurice.

How may I help you today, Maurice?

I'm here to join the club, please.

I see.

Well, that's fine.

But there is a procedure to follow
to get entry to the club.

Procedure?

Yes. First you must be recommended
by a committee member.

Then you must play a round
with two members

to ascertain your level of skill,
etiquette, et cetera.

Then your application will be forwarded
to the members committee,

whereupon, if accepted,
you'll be placed on the waiting list.

How long's the waiting list?

Currently two years.

That's no good.

-Really?
-No, I'm playing in the British Open.

The British Open?

So I'll just play a round now.

Very well.

That'll be five pounds.

Five pounds?

And you'd need to buy
some regulation golf shoes.

I'm afraid we don't allow work boots.

-How much are the shoes?
-Ten pounds.

With the green fee,
that makes around 15.

Do you have 15 pounds, Maurice?

Here he is.

Maurice G. Flitcroft.

Only requires par for victory.

Hey! Get off the golf course!

What you doing?

Hey!

You cheeky sod!

Left me balls!

Are you deaf?

-Tosser!
-Go on!

-Hands in your pockets.
-Quite good.

-Maurice?
-Yeah, it's not bad, is it?

Bloody hell.

I thought golf was supposed
to be relaxing, love?

So did I.

What's happened, Dad?

I'm giving up on the Open, son.

-No. No, you're not.
-I am, love.

I said you're not.
Not until you've opened this. Go on.

I said television is the only
way to keep up with the Americans.

Prestige counts for nothing
if you can't see it.

And what did they say?

Excuse me, Mr. Mackenzie, sir?

Yes, Jenny.

Again, what can I do for you?

Sorry, sir. I just want
to show you this application.

I'm not sure what to do with it.

Oh, good Lord.

Well, I mean, he's ticked professional,
so--

But I just wonder whether it's real.

Whether what's real?

Whether he really is a professional.

Why would someone say they're
a professional when they're not?

Well, to get into the Open.

I don't think anyone's gonna be
stupid enough to do that, my dear.

No, that would be very stupid indeed.

I'm in.

I best get Cliff
to get me some new golf shoes.

Practice is the road to perfection.

Flipping heck.

Can't see a flipping thing.

Fore.

Hey, that was a good one.

I think.

Mike.

Hey, Dad. What you doing here?

Hello, son. This your new office, is it?

-Yeah.
-Come on, then, give us a look.

Not a great time now.
We got some big deals going down.

Oh, big deals?

-Want a ciggy?
-No, no, no. You're okay.

Son, I might need a couple of days off,
next Thursday, Friday.

-Can you swing it?
-Yeah, yeah. I'll see what I can do.

I think I might've found myself a new job,
you know, like you said.

-Great, Dad.
-I might take it. It's just great.

It's quite exciting, actually.

I'm entering the British Open,
you know, the golf thing.

Really gonna go for it.
I think I'm pretty good, actually.

Dad, sorry, I've got to go.
But that's good, Dad.

Well, it's good to have your support, son.
Go on. Get your deals. Go on.

-Okay, I'll see you later.
-All right.

Mike.

Hi, nice to meet you. Mike Flitcroft.

-Be fine.
-It's not gonna fit.

-Oh, yeah.
-Gene?

-It's aluminum, so it'll bend, won't it?
-There's no way.

-Bloody hell.
-Very nice.

-Shit.
-Lovely.

Just-- It's all right.
It's fine. It's fine.

-Well done, Gene.
-Can you help instead of just judging?

-We ready, lads?
-Yeah, fine. Yeah, all good.

Yeah, ready.
We're just putting it in the--

No, no. I'll--

-Here. Come here. Come here.
-That's all fine. Here you are.

-Yeah?
-Now, look at that.

Just remember, know whatever happens,

no one can say you didn't try.

-You got your sandwiches.
-Sandwiches.

Good. Made plenty there for the--

-Thanks, Mom.
-I got it.

Don't eat them all on the journey.

-No.
-Oh, no, no.

Come here, you.

Good luck.

I love you.

-Come on, come on.
-No, put me down.

Come on, you'll be late.

Get going.

I know. I love you too.

I'm gonna get some claret for that jug
on the mantelpiece.

-Do it.
-I'll get onto it.

-Bye, love.
-Yeah.

Love you more.

The sun is shining this morning
at Formby Golf Club on Merseyside,

where, in a few minutes' time,

the new stars of the golfing world
will take their first steps

to claiming the historic Claret Jug

and a check for 10,000 pounds.

Join us here in about an hour

for what promises to be
a tournament to remember.

You practice on the beach and all?

Sorry, my English--

Oh, no.

You practice on the beach too?

Yes. At least we'll be good
from the bunkers?

Yeah, the bunkers.

Maurice. Maurice Flitcroft.

-Severiano Ballesteros.
-You what?

Just call me Seve.

Oh, sí, Seve, Seve.

Are you nervous?

Yes and no.

You don't get nervous?

No. See...

a mistake, to me...

is an opportunity to learn
something new about golf.

What did I do wrong?

How can I do... good-er?

You know what I mean?

Love your mistakes, Seve.

And you can't go wrong.

I hope your golf
is as good as your Spanish.

Oh, no, no, no.

Oh, no, Seve. My golf--

My golf is much better.

Watch out, Seve.

Until next time.

Until testicles.

Right-o, son.

What's first up?

First hole.

Four hundred and sixty yards,
trouble left and right.

Four hundred and sixty yards. Par 5?

-Par four.
-Par four.

I reckon take a driver,
get it right up there.

Give us a chance going at the green.

No. I've been a bit wild, you know,
just of late, with my driver.

I'll take-- I'll take my 4-wood.
I never miss with that.

Yeah. Okay.

Sorry, Dad. There's no 4-wood.

You what?

I must have left the 4-wood in the car.

-It's James' fault. I did tell him.
-No, no. All right, all right, son.

It's all right.

I'll take my driver.

-Mind your language on the course.
-Yeah, sorry, Dad.

Ladies and gentlemen,
this is game number 14.

Please welcome on the tee,

representing Pontypool Golf Club, Wales,
and sponsored by Conway's,

Jim Howard.

Fucking hell.

Please welcome on the tee,

representing La Boudin Golf Club, France,

and sponsored by McGranger Sport,

Laurent Lambert.

And finally, please welcome on the tee,

representing Cumbria County
Golf Club, England,

and sponsored by Vickers Shipyard,

Maurice G. Flitcroft.

Right, son. What we got left?

Well, hole's 460,

and what we gone? Eight.

So, four five two to the pin.

Right. I'll take me three iron,
I'll just go for position.

Yeah.

Great shot, Dad!

It's alright.

Yeah, that'll do.

Gene. Concentrate.

-Yeah, I-- Yeah, I was.
-Flipping heck.

You see?

Go on! Go on!

Alright?

-Tony, it's Lloyd.
-Yes.

Listen, I want everything
you can find on a "Maurice Flitcroft."

F-L-I-T-C-R-O-F-T.

Flitcroft.

Half time scores, please, gents.
Jim Howard?

Thirty-three. Roundabout.

Thank you. Laurent Lambert?

Thirty-two.

-Right, half way there, Gene.
-Thirty-two.

And Maurice Flitcroft?

Sixty-three.

Sorry, say that again.

Sixty-three.

Good God.

We, in Scotland,
invented the game of golf.

The British Open is the oldest
golf tournament in the world.

The most respected
and prestigious

and we must do all we can
to burnish that reputation.

So you can say that to your dad
the next time he spouts

any of that nonsense, okay?
Thank you for your time.

Maurice Flitcroft has hit a sixty-three.

Sixty-three? How the hell did that happen?

-I've no idea.
-Do the press know?

Not yet.

-Good, well let's bloody keep it that way.
-Yeah.

I must say, that was a bit disappointing.

Mr. Flitcroft.

Keith Mackenzie,

secretary of the Royal
and Ancient Golf Society.

-May I have a word with you, please?
-Oh, course, course.

Here.

It's an honor to meet you, sir.
I'm very much enjoying the--

You know, the championship.

Good. Good, so are we, thank you.

However my colleague
and I were just wondering if you

might've had your fill of it, so to speak.

-I'm sorry?
-We were just wondering

if you'd like to retire, you know?

I'm not sure I follow you.
I'm sorry. I must get to the next tee.

Alright, Mr. Flitcroft.
Let me speak plainly.

We can all see you don't belong here,

so why don't you just quietly
gather up your things

and let's not cause a scene, shall we?

You know, there's one thing
I can promise you.

Mr. Mackenzie, and that is no.

No, I certainly will not be retiring.

My swing's just about to,
you know, click in.

So, if you'll excuse me, I must get on.

I must just thank a Mrs. T. Holness
of Liphook Golf Club

for a most wonderful cake.

A Victoria sponge no less.

Now, my producer's just handed
me a piece of paper.

And either I need a new pair of glasses

or there's something quite
extraordinary happening

out there on the course.

That's nothing.
Have you seen the new Audi 80?

-Bloody hell.
-Bloody hell.

-She is a beauty.
-Gorgeous, gorgeous.

The word is,
he's played the first nine holes

in a phenomenal 63 shots.

Oh, see, beautiful lines. Clear lines.

I don't bloody believe it.
Boys, look who it is.

Who is it?

Some plonker who was here not long back.

He said he was playing
in the British Open,

-I thought he was having me on.
-Good Lord.

His card reads seven, nine, eight, ten,

there's a 12 there
with a question mark next to it.

Not sure what that means.

There's a six. That's--

Now, I think the authorities
will be wondering how this happened.

It says here his name is...

Maurice G. Fl--

Oi, what's got into you Flitcroft?

Sorry, I was just trying
to get a better signal but--

The snug, come on!

So, Clarke leads by one from
Roberts on this opening morning.

Now then, back to our intrepid
hacker on the 13th.

He's celebrating like
he just holed for a birdie.

But that was for a ten.

That makes for an astonishing plus 38.

I've never seen a number like that before.

Now, back to the man of the moment.

He's lost two balls on this hole.
Which makes this one a nine and...

That's in! And the crowd go wild.

Tony, what've you got for me?

A crane driver?

Where from?

Have you got an address?

Stop, we got it.

Stop moving, Flitcroft.

Oh, dear. That's his fourth shot,
he's still not out of the bunker.

At this rate he's gonna
end up in Australia.

Now, either someone's slipped some
Spanish licorice into my tea

or his caddy is wearing basketball pumps.

They are a pair of bobby dazzlers.

How do I know him?

It says here, he's representing
Cumbria County Golf Club in Barrow.

Well, if he's the best they can do
I wouldn't like to see the rest of them.

And he has a sponsor, believe it or not.
Vickers Shipyard in Barrow-in-Furness.

I wouldn't like to sail
on one of their boats

if he's been building them.

Well, the authorities
aren't going to like it,

but I can tell you right now,
the name of Maurice Flitcroft

will go down in history.

It's quite a common name.

What time is it?

There.

Look at this crowd, Dad!

Yeah. Must be doing something right.

Well, let's-- You know,
give them something to cheer about.

Four iron.

Where is it?

Next to the flipping pin, Dad!

Well, this fellow is the story of the day.

Maurice Flitcroft,

on the last for a birdie.

It'll be a surprise if this goes in.

Wait until you hear the roar

if it does.

Oh, and it misses on the right-hand side.

It was a good effort.

This is for, I think, 119.

Ooh, that was not a positive stroke.

It's getting a little bit grisly now.

And hopefully he'll put this in.

And he does!

That's 121. Remarkable.

Ooh, double trouble!

I believe that's called the caterpillar,
that move, eh?

Seen my grandson do that.

Not on a golf course, I must admit.

I'm afraid with a score like that
he won't be coming back tomorrow.

But whether you like it or not,
the day belongs to Maurice Flitcroft.

-Hello?
-Hello, can I help you at all?

Oh, sorry. I'm looking for
Maurice Flitcroft's house?

Oh, well, you found it.

I'm Jean Flitcroft. Maurice is my husband.

Maurice. Lloyd Donovan, Sun newspaper.

-Hello.
-Just wondered if you had any comments

on what your husband did
at the Open today?

Oh, how'd he do?

He shot 121.

It's the highest score in major history.

Oh, that's good! That mean he's won?

No. A high score is bad.

Is it? Oh, well.

Never mind, you've got to start
somewhere, ain't you.

About to pop the kettle on,
do you want to come in for tea?

-Want a biscuit?
-Thank you very much, yeah.

-Maurice.
-Maurice.

How does it feel to have shot
the worst round

in the history of the Open?

I don't feel the score was a fair
reflection on the play, actually.

What score would be a fair
reflection of your play, Maurice?

That's hard to tell,
it's the first round I've ever played.

What do you put your bad
score down to, Maurice?

Well, I'd say the main problem
with my game today

was that I left my four wood in the car.

I don't mean to make excuses
but I'm deadly accurate

with my four wood. Deadly.

What made you enter the Open?
Was it a joke?

Well, I-- No, no. No, it's no joke.

Well, I-- No.

Are you gonna try again next year?

Yes. Yes, so, I'll be back next year.
I just need to practice.

Practice more, a bit more and, well,
"practice is the road to perfection,"

so, if you'll excuse me.
I'll see you next year, chaps.

Thank you, Maurice.

Right-o, Maurice.

You showed them, didn't you, Dad?

Quiet, quiet when you go in, lads.

-Your mom must've gone to bed.
-What you doing? Yeah, sorry.

Oh, still, look at least you tried.

You know, that's the
main thing ain't it, Dad?

Oh, yeah, that's right, son.

-Enjoyed it, I did.
-Yeah, good.

-Alright. I'll just...
-You go in. I'll just get me things.

Okay.

Surprise!

Flipping heck, you nearly
gave me a heart attack!

-You didn't tell me, lads!
-No, I didn't know either.

-You didn't know? Willie!
-She didn't tell us.

Alright, Mol.

Cliff.

Great, Mol!

-Look!
-Look, they did that.

-Champion!
-"Congratulations, Maurice. Our champion."

And you are.

You did so well.

I wasn't quite as good as I thought I was.

Hey, just your first time, love.

You'll show them
next time around, Maurice.

Well. Oh, next time, yeah.
Did the lads tell you about the 18th?

I birdied it, nearly, right on the green.

We saw it!

-You saw it?
-We saw it on the telly,

-in the shipyard, yeah.
-On the telly?

-Quiche?
-Yeah, d'you like it?

I don't mind it, quiche.

-What are those you're eating?
-They're twirls.

-Twirls?
-Twirls.

Get off me!

You alright, love?

Hey, Mike, you coming for a snout?

No, no, you're alright.

Oh, did you see?

Yeah, I did.

Did you see the 18th,
where I nearly birdied it?

No, I must've missed that bit.

Well, I know the standard
wasn't ideal but--

Not ideal?

Well, what were you thinking, Dad?

You've never even played golf before.

I've never even heard you
mention golf in your life.

But I told you.

You've got to take these
things up at age six,

you can't take them up at 46!

Well, who says?

Well, the world says.
Okay? Reality says.

Well, look what happened.

What? Well, I were a bit nervous but--

Yeah, well, you had every right to be.

Everyone at the yard's gone hopping mad.

Well, what's he done to them?

-This disparages the name of the shipyard.
-What's "disparaged" when it's at home?

Have you swallowed
a dictionary, Michael, or what?

Okay, you two. Can you get out, please.

Nice.

Well...

I'm sorry I embarrassed you, son.

It's not me I'm worried about, Dad.

It's you.

The redundancies are gonna
be decided this week.

Hopkins watched it as well.

He weren't best pleased.

Sorry, Dad.

Bye, Mike.

Yeah, thanks for stopping by Mike.

You off?

So sorry.

-Drink?
-Yeah, I'll have one.

Yeah, lovely, get another round in.

Nice.

Love, if that's what he decides,

you know, it gives you more
time to practice then, don't it?

Hey?

Oh, love. There's someone
I want you to meet.

Hi, Maurice.

I'm Lloyd Donovan. Sun newspaper.

Listen, can I get an exclusive?

Exclusive?

Yeah.

Aye. For a fee, you know.

Oh, of course, yeah. Name your price.

I want him barred!

I want him barred from
every club in the country!

Bruce.

Maurice. I'd like to join, please.
I got the money.

And I got the shoes.

I appreciate the effort
you've made, Mr. Flitcroft.

But I'm sorry, I can't accept this.

Why not?

We have orders from Mr. Mackenzie.

Mr. Mackenzie? Can I see that, please?

Golf club membership is for amateurs only.

As I entered the Open as a professional,
I can't join a club?

Correct.

He accepts here
that I'm professional, that's fine.

Professionals can
play on any course in the country.

Yes.

Great!

Simply show them your Professional Golf
Association certificate and away you go.

But I don't have one, Bruce.

There's no chance of me
even getting one

unless I belong to a club.

Like I say, I'm sorry.

I consider this action
a gross betrayal

of me rights as a human being.
My human rights.

Is the British Open, not by definition,
'open' to everyone?

Furthermore...

The British Open is indeed
open to all golfers,

providing they have achieved
a standard fit for competing

at a professional level.

My mother plays golf, but would I
want her eligible for the British Open?

No. I would not.

Of course, I wouldn't want
your mother to be eligible

for the Men's British Open,

but I'd hope that you would
consider her eligible

for the Women's British Open.
Don't you think?

Good point.

Ought I to add sexism to your
list of crimes, Mr. Mackenzie?

I like that a lot.

I now consider the tone
of your letters to be unbecoming

to my office and will therefore
cease replying to them

as of this correspondence.

"Mr. Mackenzie feels he has said
all he has to say on this matter.

Apart from to remind you
that any unlawful entering

of a golf club is,
of course, trespassing."

Flipping heck.

-You alright, what's that?
-Yeah, no. Don't worry.

He trusts this brings
this matter to a close.

You'll show them yet, love.

Just need to make them listen, that's all.

We've come outside to the studio car park

to meet the man who shot
a world record of 121 at the British Open.

He is the world's worst
professional golfer.

No, I'm sorry. I don't agree with that.

I'm not the world's worst golfer
and I'm willing to prove it.

Okay, great.

So, we have set up
a little golf course here in the car park.

Yeah, it's not a golf course,
it's a putting green.

Great. It's exciting, isn't it?

Oh, now, that was close!

That was just a practice shot,
you know, get the pace of the green.

Yes, well, it has been raining out here,

so it could be a little bit damp.
Couldn't it?

Oh! Now, you feel that you should be
let back into the Open, is that right?

Yes, an 'open' championship,
you know, should be open to everyone.

Like the FA Cup, you know,
give the little teams a chance.

Oh! Now, bad luck.

I think this ground is sloping.

Well, everybody does say
that this car park is a bit lopsided so...

Well, I think I'd best hand
back to the studio.

Thank you to the fantastic
Maurice Flitcroft.

The world's worst golfer.

No, I'm not the world's worst golfer.

I don't agree with that.

Good shot, Maurice!

Hey, it's really coming, innit?

It's coming.

"Practice is the road to perfection,"
you know.

In here, love.

Have I missed them?

No, nothing yet.

How was practice?

Was great. Getting better all the time.

Boys?

We did it!

We bloody did it! National champions!

We're gonna make history.
The world final's next!

Oh, well done lads!

Oh! Well done!
Where are the finals, love?

Freaking France!

You go have fun. I love you!

They're gone.

There. Now shall we celebrate too?
Got some of that Babycham in the fridge.

Yeah, we should celebrate.
I'll have a cup of tea, please, love.

Alright, love.

Have to do some more practice
later to work on me putting.

Love.

Don't be so hard on yourself.

There was a slope in that car park.

I could see it from here
on the television.

No.

I don't know what happened.

I got a bit nervous, maybe.

Love?

Got a bit of me migraine.

I don't know.

Hey.

How d'you think that
Mr. Jack Nicholson

would have done, you know,
taking up the golf at 50.

Jack Nicholas?

Yeah. No coaching, not one lesson.

And having to practice on a
beach with a bloody retriever

yapping at his ankles.

You think he'd have done any better?

No, it's a good point, love.

But they still won't let me join,
will they, so...

There's no point in talking about it.

That right?

There's no point.

All right.

Well...

They might not let you in, but...

What about if you were to enter
as someone else?

-Someone else?
-Yeah.

Dashing Frenchman perhaps?

Bonjour.

Jean, you're a genius.

Très chic.

Bonjour.

Ladies and gentlemen,
please welcome on the tee,

from Paris, France, Gerard Hoppy.

Okay, you've got this.
Your practice has been sensational.

No one'll guess it's you,

so just relax and bring it home, Maurice.

Right. Again, don't call me Maurice.

Shit, sorry, Mol.

Or Mol, I'm Gerard, Gerard Hoppy.

Got you.

That's a nice opening drive
from the Frenchman, Gerard Hoppy.

Unusual swing, but,
effective, it would seem.

Good shot, Maurice.

-Gerard.
-Gerard, shit, sorry. Shot, Gerard!

Yeah!

And that's a steady start
for the Frenchman, Gerard Hoppy.

He's parred the first two holes.

I must confess I don't know
much about this fellow

but he's a natty dresser,
I'll give him that.

This for a bogey for the Frenchman.

And it's in!

My goodness, he rattled that one in.

Who is this Gerard Hoppy?
I can't find him in the notes.

Yeah, I've never heard of him either.

Keep an eye on him.

And now, as the breeze gets up,
we join Gerard Hoppy on the tenth tee.

Still going well.

Still going well in his first qualifier.

Oh! And that's-- He's tweaked that left,
and it's in the bunker.

Right, it's just a bunker.

Just remember your practice,
you've done this loads of times, Mol.

What?

Oh, shit, sorry, Mol.
I mean Gerard!

Gerard. Shit!

Hey, what's up, Maurice?

Cliff. Would you come here, please?

Please, stop calling me Maurice.

Oh, shit, I'm sorry, mate.

-It's Mr. Mackenzie, he's spotted us.
-Where?

He's up there.
No, no, no, he's behind us.

Behind-- Don't look back!
Don't look back!

Mr. Flitcroft.

Pardon, Monsieur.
Je m'appelle Gerard Hoppy,

merci beaucoup.

Come on, Maurice.
I know it's you.

-Hey! Stay back, pal!
-No, this doesn't concern you.

Come with us, please, Maurice.

Hoppy, pardon, Je ne comprends pas.

Je m'appelle Gerard Hoppy.

J'habite en Paris, France.
Just going to the tee.

Mr. Flitcroft,
you look ridiculous in that wig.

It's not a crime to wear a wig, is it?

He's got one, look.

Come on.

-Alright, that's it.
-Here we go.

This is Keith Mackenzie.
I need police assistance

on the tenth fairway.

I've got two trespassers. Over.

Police? You didn't tell me
this was illegal, Maurice!

The game's up, Maurice.

Oh, Cliff, you berk.

Right. Come on. Out of the way!

Maurice! Come on!

What are you doing?

Come with me! Come on!

I've got two trespassers
coming your way.

Arrest them both!

-Maurice!
-Repeat, I repeat. Arrest them both!

Two trespassers.

-One with a red shirt
-What are you doing?

and a hat, black hair.

Get in! Hop in!

Hop in!

And now I'm hearing there's
been an altercation with an official.

And Gerard Hoppy, the Frenchman,
I believe has commandeered a vehicle.

Don't adjust the television,

this isn't the Keystone Cops.
This is actually happening.

Oh no.

What are we doing, Cliff?
We're just making it worse.

Stop!

I don't know, Mol, but you'll be alright.

I stole the clothes.
They can't get you for that.

You what? No, you--

You got them from your mate,
down the market.

There is no mate down the market.
I nicked them.

Wait, wait! Oh!

Shit.

Flipping heck.

Oh, Jesus.

Go on, get out.

I can't get caught, Mol.

It's just a few clothes, Cliff.

No, you don't understand.

I done some things,
I done some really bad things.

I can't go back inside, not now.

They'll throw away the key.

Jesus Christ, what am I gonna do, Mol?

Run. Just go before I change my mind.

I never killed anyone, though. I swear.

Don't believe everything
they say about me, Mol.

Gerard, I mean Gerard! Sorry!

Tossers!

Mr. Flitcroft, stop!

Stop right there!

Mr. Flitcroft, stop running!

Now, I am hearing news
that Mr. Gerard Hoppy is

not in fact Gerard Hoppy.

I'm hearing it's Maurice Flitcroft.
The so-called "Phantom of the Open."

You wanted to see me, Mr. Hopkins?

Now, Mike.
I want to show you something.

This time Maurice Flitcroft,
a crane driver from Barrow,

was arrested by police
and is being held

at Southport police station.

The bail has been set
at a thousand pounds.

In other news--

We are in the middle of trying
to secure the Trident deal.

And we got your dad running around
taking the piss out of me.

I wouldn't take it personally, sir.

Gerard Hoppy?

Yeah, well, I can see
what you mean but--

We provide you with
a nice life here, Mike.

Nice clothes, nice house, nice car.

Not bad for a little bastard
from Bankside, eh?

You gotta decide, Mike.

You're either his sort or you're our sort.

You can't be both.

Mike! Mike!

No need to shout, Maurice.

No, I'm not.

Thanks, son!
I'll pay you back straight away.

Don't worry about it, Dad.

Road sweeper.

Is that it?

Your options are limited.
Partly because of the incident.

I'm sorry.

Those are unusual flowers,
you grow them yourself?

No, I picked them on the way in.
I shouldn't really, but...

No, you should.
Pick all the flowers you can,

while you're still young.

Oi, Maurice!

Get back on that course!
Don't let the bastards get you down!

...Middlesex beat champions Yorkshire.

And there were wins for Somerset,

Surrey, and for Lancashire
and Warwickshire

who meet at the Benson
and Hedges final, on Saturday.

And finally, Joe Thornbush
has entered for this week's

British Open golf championship.

But the organizers believe
Mr. Thornbush may really be

Maurice Flitcroft,

the crane driver from Barrow
who scored 121 in a qualifying round.

Championship secretary have kept
a sample of Mr. Flitcroft's handwriting

just in case he applied again.

That's the news this evening.
From all of us here, goodnight.

Oh, smells nice.

Got another postcard from the boys, look.

Look at that. Mochbar.

Moscow.

Moscow. Look at that.

Dancing round the globe,
drinking a lot of vodka.

Lovely.

Moscow!

Postmark was from two months ago, mind.

Two months ago?

What they been doing since then, I wonder?

Don't know.

Great!

That's it then.

Unbelievable.

We really do enjoy our work here.
I mean, we've been building the brand for,

well, 15, 20 years and it--

-We do think it's--
-Oi!

Hey, up!

-Who are they?
-Mr. Mustache.

They're just...

Don't worry, we don't know them.

-If you just keep coming with us.
-Michael!

-Keep, keep on coming.
-Mike!

-Excuse us. Excuse us.
-Michael?

Who are these people?

Well, they're my brothers.

You're joking? You get rid of them.

Yeah, I will.

-Make it back for the dinner, right?
-I know, I'll get rid of them quick.

Sorry, one second.

Mike works at a homeless
charity part time,

he's just-- Just a couple of escapees.

-Oh, I see.
-He'll be back in a minute.

-What you playing at?
-What are you two doing here?

We went to the house
but there was nobody there.

Yeah, they had to move out.

Move out?

Yeah, it's not been great.

-Can we crash with you?
-No, you can't.

-Where we supposed to stay?
-I'll show you.

What are we supposed to do?
We've nowhere to go.

It's the boys, Jean!

-These are yours, I believe.
-Come in, lads!

Why you in a caravan?

Blimey, the whole family
back together, would you believe it?

I'll put heater on.

You wanna sit down, love?

-You alright?
-It's fine.

Well, what happened?
We thought you were on tour, loves.

It got canceled.

-Canceled?
-Yeah, crowds got less and less.

No one turned up.

Yeah, it was like one minute
disco were alive,

the next it were dead.

Well, that's just, you know,
circle of life sometimes, boys.

Is that all you've got to say?

Well, what do you expect
us to say, Michael?

Well, how about sorry?

For what?

Well, you should have made
them get proper jobs.

Well, they're living the dream.

There's naught wrong with that.

Well, it depends what the dream is.

They're world champions!

At what? Disco dancing?

They may as well be world
champions at tiddlywinks.

Look at the state of them.

"The Fantastic Flitcrofts"?

The fantastic failures more like.

They aimed for the stars.

Yeah, and now they're in the gutter.

Mike's right.

Maybe if we'd had a different dad,
we'd have done better and all.

Reckon our dancing's about
as useful as your golf, Dad.

Boys.

Maurice, what are you doing?

You alright? Love?

Love, where you going?

Just going out for a moment.

I'm alright.

Right.

You go and apologize to your dad.
Now, please.

But he's not my dad though, is he?

How can you stand there and say that...

after all that he's done for you?

Hey, no, no.
Everything I've done,

I've done myself.

He wanted me to be a flipping astronaut!

He's made your life a misery.

Enough.

When I was 17...

I got...

offered a job to join a theater company.

Seven pound 50 a week.

Dream come true.

Whole life set up for me.

What happened?

I got pregnant.

I wanted to keep you, Michael.
No question in my mind about that.

But...

nobody supported me.

Not my father, not my mother.

Not my friends.

I trained as a secretary off my own back.

Set up the little theater by myself.

I brought you up by myself.

Not a soul stood by my side
for a single second.

And then I met your father.

So don't you tell me
he's made my life a misery.

He's made my life.

He's made all our lives.

Now...

I'm going out there...

to look for him.

And I suggest you come and help me.

I can't, Mom. I've got a dinner that--

Oh, okay, Michael.
Well, never mind, it's your life.

Come on now, boys.

Maurice?

Maurice?

Jean?

You all right, Pam?

Hey, you've not seen Maurice, have you?

-No.
-No.

But here, I've got some post for you.

Thanks.

Be bills.

Postmark from America, look.

Willie, look at this.

Bloody hell.

Come on, we've gotta find him.

Thanks, Pam!

Dad?

-Maurice?
-Dad?

-Dad?
-Maurice?

-Mol?
-Maurice?

-Mol?
-Dad?

There you are, look. There he is.

-We're sorry, Dad!
-Yeah!

We're really, really sorry!

Come down, love.

They didn't mean it. None of them.

No!

They were right!

The world's not an oyster.

It's just a barnacle.

I see that now.

What are you talking about,
you bloody fool?

I raised your hopes too high, lads.

I'm sorry.

I should have known.
I were just letting you down.

I wouldn't be so sure about that.

Why don't you come down and read this?

We've got a plane to catch.

Dear Mr. Flitcroft,
my name is Terry Moore,

and I am writing to you
from Grand Rapids, Michigan.

You won't be aware of this,
but for ten years now,

we've held the Maurice Flitcroft
Trophy in your honor.

It's a day when the members
bring their families,

-and the worst score wins, not the best.
-Go.

Such is the affection that our members
have towards you and the trophy,

we would like to invite you
and your family over

for the ten year anniversary
of the competition.

Sorry, Mr. Flitcroft said
he's not to be disturbed.

Oh, all right. Well, just make sure
that he gets this, all right?

Yeah, of course. Yeah.

We'd like to offer you
and your family first class tickets,

hotel accommodation
and as many golf balls as you can lose.

Maurice, we hope
you'll accept our invitation

and that you have a pleasant flight here.

Yours, Terry Moore,

president, Blythefield Country Club,
Grand Rapids, Michigan.

Maurice, I'm Terry Moore.

Oh, hello, Terry.

So glad you could make it over.
Welcome to America.

Pleased to meet you.
Thanks very much for having us over.

What-- What you doing?
We're not finished.

I thought she was taking it away.
It's almost full. Sorry.

Flitcroft, it's showtime.

Okay, stay calm.

To my office please. Thank you.

Mike, come on.

Mike.

Finally, the moment
we've all been waiting for.

Maurice Flitcroft
will tee off at his own tournament

here at Grand Rapids.

Thank you, Mr. Flitcroft.
You have given us much to think about.

Excuse us a moment.

Excuse me, Mr. Flitcroft.

We have just one question more.

We were just wondering,
are you related, by any chance,

to Maurice Flitcroft, the crazy golfer?

No, no, no.

It's a-- That's a really common name
around these parts.

He has nothing to do with Michael.

He's a different class of person.

Yes. I am.

He's my father.

Maurice Flitcroft is my dad.

An honor to meet you.

We are big fan of your father.

He's the only golfer
who's worse than my boss.

Yeah. Well, we're all big fans
of Maurice 'round here.

He used to work here, don't you know, eh?

Can we meet your father?
Would he play golf with us?

Yeah, I think he'd like that a lot.

Great.

What a great opening drive.

220 yards, straight down the middle.

Have they got the real Maurice Flitcroft?

Sorry!

No, I think that's him.

You okay?

-We're staying here, brother. Yeah.
-Read my mind, mate. Read my mind.

Great dancers.

You see, I'd just thrown away
the junior club championship

with a three putt from 15 feet.

I went home, and I said to my dad,
"That's it, I'm giving up golf."

I went to my room, switched on the TV,

and saw Maurice Flitcroft
hit four putts from 10 feet.

I went downstairs, and I said to my dad,
"I take it back. Maybe it wasn't so bad."

Next year, I'll be playing
at the U.S. Masters in Augusta

for winning the U.S. Amateur Championship.

Ladies and gentlemen,
I give you, Maurice Flitcroft.

"Practice is the road to perfection."

-Wonderful speech.
-Thank you.

So...

go--

Golf is a game where you can
play well and score poorly,

or play poorly and score well.

But-- But my game was never like that.

I-- I played poorly,
and I scored poorly as well.

But if I can inspire just one person,
like this very talented young man,

well, that's a hole in one, isn't it?

That makes the whole thing worthwhile.
Good luck to you.

And keep practicing.

Good luck to you.

So...

thank you.

I'd like to thank Terry Moore
and all the members of the club

paying an enormous
amount of money, I expect,

to bring Jean and I and the family
over here for this week.

But whatever you paid,
the airline still lost all our luggage,

so thanks for the clothes as well.

Well, there's so many people
I want to thank while I'm up here.

I'd like to thank my sons,
James and Gene, the Fantastic Flitcrofts,

who you saw dancing
on the floor a little while ago.

And I'd like to thank my son Mike.

And I'd like to thank Lloyd Donovan,

a journalist who's been
documenting my ups and downs.

But there's one person that
I've never thanked publicly.

I don't-- Actually, I don't think
I've ever even thanked her privately.

So tonight, I'd very much like
to thank me wife, Jean.

If life were a cup of tea,

my Jean is the sugar.

Without it, it's unbearable,
just chuck it away.

But with it, it's like--

It's like heaven on earth.

She's a magician, she is.

She's a magician.

She's the light of my life,

and I don't know how I'd cope without her.

I love her very, very much.

To Jean.

-Ta, Dad.
-Ta.

That's caviar, there.

Maurice.

-Champagne and caviar?
-Yeah.

Travel the world?

-Yeah, travel the world, like I said.
-Yeah, just like you promised.

Shame about the diamonds,
but there you go. I'll forgive you that.

Oh, that is a shame. Wait a minute.

My heart. Oh, Jean, it's rattling some.

My old heart.

Well, what's that?

What have you done?

-Oh, Maurice...
-Come right out of my heart.

Where'd you get that?

Cliff sent it me from his mate
down the market.

So maybe don't wear it in public.

It's beautiful. Thank you.

-I meant it.
-I know.

Thank you.

So, Maurice,

any more goals,
as far as golf is concerned?

Well, maybe
Sports Personality of the Year.

I'm surprised
I haven't been nominated for that.

There's something going on there.
There's a conspiracy against me.

-It's kind of not fair, is it?
-No, it's sport.

It's all about sport, isn't it?

I mean, for every winner of a tournament,
there's 149 losers.

Well, that's a wonderful way
to leave the interview.

Thanks.

Maurice Flitcroft,

the Phantom of the Open, thank you.

Thank you.

And cut.

Thank you, Maurice.

Will I get my tea, now?

Oh, my gosh, I forgot.

Can someone get Maurice his tea?

-I'll get it right away.
-Was it six sugars?

Six.

You know,
a lot of pros here in the States,

they get invited to play in the Open
and they don't go.

Why not?

Well, it's a long way, it's expensive.

I got a buddy who's a pro,
up in Frenchmen's Creek in Florida,

and he's not going because
he doesn't like the weather in Scotland.

Can you believe that?

-Really?
-Oh, yeah.

What's his name?

Welcome, once again, to the first round
of qualifying for the British Open.

We got players here
from all round the world.

They've got Japanese, Australians,

players from France,
Germany, Spain, you name it.

A very smooth-looking
American there, I think.

All coming to our little island, hoping to
end up lifting that famous Claret Jug.

Greenkeepers have been out in force today.

The course is looking spectacular.

So without further ado,

let's get out on the course.

Ladies and gentlemen,
please welcome on the tee,

from Frenchman's Creek, Florida,

Gene Pachecki.

Come on, come on, come on.

Jesus, come on.

Isn't that Maurice Flitcroft?

Well, Blythefield Country Club
is in the midst of

its 10th annual Flitcroft
member-guest golf tournament,

an event named after Maurice Flitcroft.

Maurice Flitcroft,
a crane driver from Barrow--

Do you wanna go on?

Are you looking, maybe,
at the Hall of Fame?

The Hall of Fame, and back home,

maybe Sportsman of the Year.

You know, I'm surprised I've not
been invited or nominated for that,

Sports Personality of the Year.

I mean, you know,
there's something going on.

You know, there's a conspiracy
being waged against me.

Just to explain to those
who don't know much about golf,

what you're gonna do now,
is you're gonna putt,

as if you were on a green,
you're gonna aim for this thing.

This is quite dramatic, isn't it?

-Oh, that was a nearly.
-Ah, not quite.

A lot of pressure. You shouldn't speak
when a golfer's about to putt, should I?

-No, you shouldn't.
-Oh, sorry.

You need a few practice shots
to get used to the pace of the green.

This is not going too well, is it?

No, I think this floor's sloping.

You know, a man of your stature
and your competence on a golf course,

we can't leave you without
some tips for duffers, like myself.

Person picking up
a golf club for the first time,

what would be your advice?

My advice? Well...

practice.

That is the road to perfection.

Regular practice.