All language subtitles for United (2011).1080p.x265.en

At a signal, the Marines move in

for the final assault
in their atomic manoeuvres.

For the leather-necks,
a dress rehearsal.

For the scientists,
a cleaner nuclear weapon.

Sports news.

The pride of Manchester United
prepare for the new football season.

Having overcome older,
more experienced teams

to claim last season's First
Division League championship,

can the Busby Babes repeat their
triumph in the forthcoming season?

- Course we can.
- Silly question.

And so, to meet the players.

Team Captain, Barnsley's Mark Jones,

- Yorkshire winger, David Pegg...
- That's me, that.

...Manchester's very own
Eddie Colman,

and Dudley's finest, Black Country
wing-half and England hero, Duncan Edwards.

Manager Matt Busby and trusted
coach Jimmy Murphy have put the lie

to the sceptics who said they'd
win nothing with such young players.

Other teams can only wonder who'll
be the next talented youngster

to join the ranks of the
mighty Busby Babes.

- He was at the City match on the weekend.
- Yeah, all right, Colman.

- He was. Ask him.
- You weren't, were you?

- Please tell me that you weren't.
- It's Molly.

- Here he goes. Hiding behind a lass.
- She's a City supporter.

- She likes me to go with her.
- See, that's where you went wrong.

The first question you ask a girl is,
"Are you a Red or a Blue?"

- He's right.
- Are you listening, Bobby?

The kings of romance, here...

- I do fine, playing t'field.
- Oh, yeah, yeah.

He's a right Casanova, yeah,
in his own head.

Am I standing out there
for my own health?

Come on, then, lads, you heard him.
Let's have you.

Keep the energy up, come on.

Come on, you call that running?!

My granny could do
better than you lot.

- She's been dead 20 years!
- Put some energy into it.

Football's a simple game.

You win the ball,
you pass the ball, you score a goal.

All else is embellishment.

Thank the Lord our God we do
not embellish on natural beauty.

The ball's round to go around.
What is it?

- Pardon?!
- Round to go around!

Back. Give it back. One touch only.

That was two.

Good boy, Duncan.

Never mind England... you're almost
good enough to play for Wales!

First team with me, come on.

Rest of you come with me.
Come on, gather round.

Come on, Bobby, let's have you.

- Young Bobby?
- Hello.

Mr Murphy,
can I have a word, please?

Of course you can.

When do you think the boss
is going to give me my chance?

When he thinks you're ready.

I've been here for three years.
I've done everything you've asked.

I should bloody well think so!

- Be asking for more.
- More hours, more work, more training.

Never saw a player have a heart attack
from working too hard. Eh, Bert?

Never, Jim. Aye.

It's just seeing the others
make it through. I...

Come with me, come on.

Old Trafford. This pitch sits in the middle of
the largest industrial estate in the country.

Over there,
that's where the cotton boys stand.

There's the joiners,
the dockers, the millers.

Nothing in common
until they're here.

We are their pride...
at the end of the week.

We set the world to rights for them.

At least till Sunday morning.

And we owe them the best. Now, you want to play
in front of them, me and Mr Busby need to know

you'll give us the best in front of
these 80,000, 3pm on a Saturday.

But right now, this ground, this club,
owes Mr Bobby Charlton exactly nothing.

Are you going to bleat or work? That separates
those who make it from those who don't.

I...I'm going to work.

We're doing great things, Bobby.

It's all here for you, I promise.

- How many feet have you got?
- Two.

Why aren't you using both?

- I've always preferred me right.
- Ever practise with your left? Play with your left?

- No.
- No?

So how do you know you prefer
your right? See that wall? Left foot,

then right, then left, then right.
As much power as you can muster.

Shoot at that wall
for an hour every day, at least.

- And try and make sure no-one else is around.
- Why's that?

We don't want everyone knowing
how good you are. Not yet. Go on.

An hour, mind, at least. All right?

No, if you're in range of the goal
and you fancy your chances,

never look up. Just hit it low and
hard, through the top of the ball.

Oh, no, if I don't look,
I'll definitely miss.

If you don't know where it's going,
neither does their keeper.

Crowd forgives a player
who shoots and misses.

They never forgive a player
who had a chance and doesn't.

- Did you never want to be a manager?
- No... No, I'm not so good at tugging my forelock,

dealing with the board. No...
Mr Busby, he's the diplomat.

I'm a coach. You put me on the grass,
I can see the future on a foggy day.

- That's my reward. Seeing that spark, watching it flame.
- Do you not miss playing?

No.

Like an ache in my gut.

Cherish every touch, lads.
It goes so quick.

I wouldn't let him get
away with that.

I can listen to him all night.

What more do I need to do
to get into the team?

Keep working, keep smiling.
Time'll come.

That's easy for you to say,
with your England cap at 17.

Everybody loves you,
mighty Duncan Edwards.

I went through the same as you,
and I grafted every hour of every day.

I didn't get handed a place
in the team. I stole one.

It's a struggle to get in the team.
It's a struggle to stay in.

But if you don't have the guts to fight for
that for the next 15 years of your life,

you'd best get back
on the train home.

Which would be stupid,
'cos you're bloody good, actually.

Morning, Boss.

- How's he doing?
- Top scorer in the Altrincham League.

Last match was 12-0.

Bobby scored the majority.

And he's here every morning?

An hour earlier than the rest,
stays an hour later.

Yeah, he's a thoroughbred.

Well, don't ruin him, then.

Come on, put some energy into it.

- Morning, chiefs.
- Duncan.

So, are you ready to face
the might of the Football League?

Mr Busby, I want us to understand
each other absolutely.

The Football League expressly
forbids this club from participating

- in the new European competition this season.
- What?

Mr Hardaker, I'm not sure you have
the authority to do that.

I prevented Chelsea competing last year,
and I'll do the same with you.

I'm not sure that you will.

I have the full backing of the Manchester United
board in saying we're champions of England.

We have every right
to compete in Europe.

But why would you want to?

What do you want from this?
Money?

Glory? In some tuppenny competition
which'll fizzle out in a year.

I don't think so. And...
we've already agreed to participate.

I see.

Might I remind you, Mr Busby, that your
first duty is to the Football League.

My first duty is to football.

This club... and its fans.

The league fixture list...

Will be honoured.
I'll make sure of it.

- I don't think you understand...
- Did you ever play, Mr Hardaker?

What was your best position?

How many cups did you hold?

How many caps did you gain?

No. You're a league man.

A man of tables, graphs and points.
Me and Jimmy here,

we're men of grass and boots
and... beauty.

The game of football doesn't
belong to you.

Don't tell me
what I can do within it.

Now, if that's everything...

This won't be the last.

Thank you for your time, sir.

Does that hurt?

No.

- How about this?
- Aye!

Take a week.
Don't put any pressure on it.

You've no call feeling sorry for yourself.
I've got half the bloody team injured.

- Hey, Bobby! The old man wants to see you.
- But it's Friday.

- He picks the team on a Friday.
- I know.

Come on, then, get dressed!

- How's the ankle?
- Ankle?

It's near the end of your leg.
Physio says it's bothering you.

No... No, it's fine.

You're playing tomorrow.

- In the team?
- No, in the brass band

Aye, in the team.

Oh, my. Thank you, sir.

Thank you.
I won't let you down, I promise.

I hope not.

- Thank you very much, Mrs W, that was delicious.
- You've got an appetite on you.

You should put your rent up.

I might do, you never know.
The rent might go up.

I can barely stand on me right foot, Duncan.
How am I going to play?

I'm going to be useless.

He's right, lads.
Let's tell the old man.

- Bobby doesn't want to play tomorrow.
- Don't you ruddy dare, Eddie.

Stick a cold compress on it.
Come five to three, take it off.

But then I won't sleep.
What's that?

- Glass of sherry, half an hour, you'll be out for the count.
- No, no.

- Peggy, I don't like sherry.
- Medicinal!

Yes, good lad!

Never fails.
You'll sleep like a baby.

- Can I help you, son?
- Oh, I'm sorry, Officer.

I...I couldn't sleep.

Won't help stood here.

I...I just... I had to see it.

Football club doesn't want people like you hanging
around this time of the morning. Off you go now.

Oh, no, I'm in the team.

I... I'm going to play
for Manchester United here...

Tomorrow... today!

Of course you are, son. And I'm opening
the batting at Lord's a week Tuesday.

Go on, get off home.

Bobby.

Oi, oi, here he is.

Put it on, then. Or are you going to
stand there all afternoon?

Go on, Bobby, lad!

All right, lads, Boss is in.
Boss is in.

Charlton Athletic.

You know the drill.
You've worked all week for this.

Watch out for the big number 9.

He's faster than you think.

Don't get riled by the centre-half. He'll be
mouthing off and nipping at you from the word go.

Keep your shape
or they'll find too much space,

and when you do get the ball, break fast.
They won't be able to keep up.

Stay focused.

And you...

don't play their game.

Play yours.

Yes?

Yes, Boss!

Jimmy...

- Anyone in today from Doncaster?
- Go on, Peggy.

Good. Happy days in sunny Doncaster.

What about Salford?
Any Salford lads in? Ah, there he is.

- Have we got Barnsley?
- That'll be me, Boss.

Yes, the brass bands of Barnsley,
good lad.

Anyone in from the beautiful
Black Country?

Yes! Deadly! Dudley!
The North East?

Beautiful!

New addition from the North East!

What about... Charlton?

No?

Good.

Because I bloody hate Charlton.

Apples and pears, jellied eels,
Pearly Kings?

Shut up, you South-London sods!

Yes! Come on!

- Am I right?!
- Yes.

- Yes!
- Then let's go!

- What the bloody hell's he doing?
- Exercises. Does 'em before every game.

He's about to play 90 minutes of football,
that's the bloody exercise!

Duncan Edwards, sir.
I've followed your career for the last ten years.

- I've got enormous admiration for you.
- Thanks.

But reputations mean nothing here.

Come anywhere near me on that pitch,
I'll kick you over the far stand.

All right, Chief?

What am I doing here?

You're ready.

Wish I was you, right now.

Come on, lads, we haven't come here
for nothing! Come on, lads, come on!

We're moving!

Eddie Colman, inside to David Pegg.
Passes to Bobby Charlton, who shoots.

And it's a goal!
And United are unstoppable today.

Duncan Edwards pressing forward again.
Charlton are really on the back foot here.

Over to Charlton, who shoots again
and it's a goal! He's scored again.

- ♪ There's only one Bobby Charlton ♪
- Put us down.

♪ There's only one Bobby Charlton!
One Bobby Charlton! ♪

Hey, two goals on your debut.
I'd call that showing off.

- No, that was everything you've taught me.
- I wasn't out there.

- No, really...
- Take the credit.

Enough people'll be modest for you.
Go and get showered. Go on.

Proud of you, chief.

You're just kids. How can you win
like that when you're just kids?

♪ Now, football is a pleasant game

♪ Played in the sun
Played in the rain

♪ And the team that gets me excited

♪ Manchester United

♪ Manchester... ♪

It's the start of a new year, and
the Busby Babes are unstoppable.

Last season's League champions
and European Cup semifinalists are

top of the league and back
in Europe for a second season.

♪ Take a lesson, come to see

♪ Football taught by Matt Busby

♪ And Manchester...

♪ Manchester United

♪ A bunch of bouncing
Busby Babes... ♪

In the quarterfinals of the European Cup,
the mighty Reds now face an away target

against Red Star Belgrade.

Having won the first leg 2-1 at Old Trafford,
the Babes will travel behind the lron Curtain,

to Yugoslavia, hoping to make the
semifinal for the second season in a row.

Don't forget to wash
behind your ears, boys.

I've got Mr Hardaker on the line
from the Football League.

Thank you, Alma.
Wish me luck.

Mr Hardaker, sir.

What can I do for you, Mr Busby?

I wanted to enquire about the
possibility of shifting our match

against Wolverhampton Wanderers
on Saturday, February 8th.

I'm afraid that's impossible.

Well, we've the return leg in Belgrade on the
Wednesday, and it's a long journey back.

League rules require you to be back in
England at least 24 hours before kick-off.

What this club has done in Europe
is good for the country.

Good for our football's reputation
internationally.

We've proven that we can compete with
the best in the world.

The fixture schedule of the Football League

will not be held hostage to
the whims of your jaunts, Mr Busby.

You are required to be back in England by Friday
7th in order to fulfil your fixture on the 8th.

Failure to do so
will result in a points deduction.

Now, was there anything else?

Good save, Harry.

You're chartering a private plane?

I'll not give Hardaker
any fuel for his fire.

We'll fulfil all our fixtures
in Europe and at home.

And we'll win 'em all. You lot get to fly privately
the one match I'm on international duty.

Well, if you want to manage Wales,
you miss out on the treats.

There's no greater treat than a packed Ninian Park.
What do you think of the new goalie?

23,500 quid? We could have bought all
of Doncaster, never mind the goalie.

Keeper's!

He's an animal.

Flippin' heck, Chief.

But he's our animal.
I command the penalty area.

You don't touch the ball unless I shout you.
My territory within these lines. Understood?

Very much so.

Goes for yous lot an' all.

Do as he says. I don't care
what went on here before.

Do as I say within these white lines or
I'll kick your arses from here to Tuesday.

We're off to t'Plaza on Saturday,
if you fancy it, Harry. Yeah.

I'm here to win matches,
not join a social club.

You Babes carry on,
I'm well enough off for friends.

Up it goes, up it goes!

Well done, Harry.
Goalies, they're all t'same.

Evening, lads. How are you?
Alright?

- Cheers. Right, here we are.
- Congratulations.

- Good result.
- Yep. Here's to...

Why don't you ask someone to dance?

Oh, no, I'm not that good
at starting conversation.

- I bet there's plenty of girls would like you.
- So long as you follow the golden rule.

- Don't tell 'em you're a footballer.
- Why's that?

Maximum playing wage is £15 a week, and
your career's over by 40, if you're lucky.

What girl's going to gamble
on those prospects?

Molly did. She's special.
Tell 'em you're a plumber or carpenter.

They'll be more interested then.

- That is the worst advice. Don't listen to him.
- So have you two set a date or...?

Next summer, maybe,
in the closed season.

Once we've had chance to save.

Gives you time to find a girl
to bring along to the wedding.

- Come on.
- Where are you taking me?

- Let's go to the bar.
- Hiya. You're Bobby Charlton.

Yes. Aye, I am.

So... you nervous about going to Yugoslavia, then?
I hear they've got no food there.

I quite like dancing.

Come on. Come on!

Give us your hands.

You're a natural.

Private plane.
This is how movie stars live, lads.

Do you think he does request stops?
'Cos I fancy a week in the Bahamas!

All right scruff-bags, let's be having you in a line.
Man wants a photograph.

God knows why. I think your ugly mugs
would put people off buying newspapers.

Come on, look like movie stars, lads.
One more, please.

Thanks, boys.

He looks friendly, don't he,
that one? Cheerful Charlie.

Jimmy's well out of this trip.

This bag...

Why do they need to
check our bags, anyway?

In case you bring in anything that'll undermine
the communist system. I am... me winning boots.

Red Star are going to be Dead Star
by the time I've finished with 'em.

Lads, shut up, they can hear you.

Open your bag, please.

It's hungry job, football?

We have food here in Belgrade, too.

We also have a good football team.

You come a long way to be beaten.

Aye, well,
we're not so sure about that.

At the final whistle in Belgrade,
3-3 on the day.

Manchester United go through
5-4 on aggregate

to the semifinals
of the European Cup.

Their next opponents...
the formidable AC Milan.

Peggy, what do you make of
this stuff? Paint stripper?

It's vodka, a present from them.
Just take it, you miserable git.

Right, ladies and gents,
can I have your attention, please?

I thought it might be a nice thing if the lads
here shared a bit of our cultural heritage.

Now, listen, don't you leave me pissing
into t'wind, lads. Come on, no excuses.

Nice and steady.

So...

- Give it a rest, will you?
- Oh, Harry...

You're only grumpy because
we skinned you last night, mate.

Them cards were rigged.

Oh, that's foul.

Was it you I caught creeping
down the corridors, Colman?

- Hey, shut up about it.
- Why?

All them shoes folk had put outside were for shining.
He was going up the corridor swapping 'em.

- Till he realised one pair belonged to the boss.
- Yeah.

Spent the night trying to work out what I'd nicked
and from where and putting them back. I'm exhausted.

Ladies and gentlemen,
we are about to land in Munich Airport,

where we will make a brief stop to refuel the
aircraft before continuing on to Manchester.

So can I ask you at this time to all fasten your
seat belts and prepare for landing. Thank you.

Bloody watch is broke.

Get your skis on, boys!

Did they say it were Munich
or Siberia, lads?

For you, Tommy,
ze European Cup is over!

Oi, remember
what country we're in now.

Oi, Colman, I'll have you for that!

Come on, then, Peggy.

On the head, Peggy.
Come on, you lot, get inside.

Looks like we'll be getting the train home
at this rate, boys. That'll be a laugh

At least we can sting Greggy
out the rest of his wages.

You can try.

The train won't get us
home in time, lads.

We'd have points deducted.

- They wouldn't do that. Not really.
- Is it me or does this tea taste off?

That's because it's coffee,
you wassock.

Round up the boys.

OK, plane's ready, boys.
Let's be having you.

Come on, boys, let's go.

Hurry up!

We're late. I know.

- How do you get three aces again?
- Luck of the draw, skill of the player.

- I think you've got 'em up your sleeve.
- Huh.

- Are we slowing down?
- Oh, what...

Apologies, ladies and gentlemen.
A small technical problem.

We've had to abort take-off.

We're going to return to the top of
the runway and make another attempt.

Do you think they need us to go
out and give it a push?

Or do we get a night out on Munich town?
We'll be off again in a minute.

If not, Bert will have you
doing circuits round the runway.

Run off last night's booze, boys.

Crikey, Moses.

I'm sorry, ladies and gentlemen,
we're having a few technical difficulties,

so I'm afraid we're going to have to return to the
terminal and disembark while we take a look.

What's going on?

All OK?

Just a telegram to my landlady.

She worries.

Thank you.

Gentlemen, the pilot says it's safe to
make another attempt. Oh, thank you.

All right, lads, back on the plane.

Come on, back on the plane!

Soon be home.

Boss?

You all right?

Aye.

Jonesy.

I'm sorry, lads, I'm...
I'm just not feeling good about this.

Where you going?

I'm going to sit at the back.
They reckon it's safer back there.

- Who's they?
- Come on, Colman.

- You coming, Bobby?
- Aye.

Can you put your seat belt on, please, sir?
Sir, can you sit down, please, sir?

You're grand where you are, Bobby.

- Sit down, please.
- See you in a bit.

We're going to get ourselves
fucking killed here.

We'll die in Germany and don't even
speak bloody German!

Are we even in the air?

We're not taking off here!

Bobby! You all right?

- Aye, I think so.
- Yeah? All right?

- I'm just cold. I'm so cold.
- You're all right. You're on your feet!

- You need to try and help, son. All right?
- Where are the others? Do you know?

I got some out the plane.
There's a woman and a baby.

I need you to look and help!

Look and help!

You OK? Yeah?

Bobby!
Help me with the boss.

It's his legs.

Hurry up!

Bobby, we have to get him upright.
Into the van.

Get the doors open!

It's a coal van.
We need ambulances!

It'll have to do.
Get him in!

Right, start the van.
Come on!

Bobby! I...

I dragged him about 20 yards.

There were more.

There were more I...
I couldn't help.

You got them out, though.

You went back in
and you got them out.

There were so many of 'em, Bobby.

- What's your name?
- Robert Charlton.

- And your address?
- Why are you doing this?

I'm from the British Consulate.

I've been asked to identify survivors so as we
can ascertain the... the extent of our losses.

Mr Charlton?

Mr Charlton!

Mr Charlton.

Sorry.

Sorry.
No, I don't speak German.

Are you all right?

Am I all right?

Am I all right?

I'm a footballer.
I'm just a footballer.

I was in Yugoslavia. I was just playing football.
And now people are dying around me!

You ask me if I'm all right?

You think... Where are my mates?
Get off me. Where are my mates?

- Where are my mates?
- Be calm. Be calm.

- No!
- You will be OK.

Be calm...

Here you are, Alma, have an orange.

Israel's finest. Look at that.

- Now, shall we...
- The plane's crashed...

have a little drink while the cat's away?
Uh-huh.

What a night.

We're in the semis,
and Wales is in the World Cup.

Who'd have thought it!
All in one day. Not in my lifetime.

- Alma?
- The plane's crashed.

- What do you mean?
- The team.

We don't know who's alive.

Find out exactly what happened.

Phone the hospital. Phone the British Embassy.
Get the most precise and detailed information you can.

- People will expect us to know.
- Right.

Here is the news. So far, we know
there are 23 survivors

after Manchester United's air crash
at Munich this afternoon.

The cause of the accident has not
yet been quite determined.

It seems that the aircraft
did not really lift from the ground.

The list of casualties
is by no means established,

and we shall have to leave it entirely
to the investigation committee.

Only six persons
escaped more or less unhurt.

Listen, I don't have
any confirmations yet.

There's not really much
I can tell you. Are any of them dead?

- Marion...
- I just want the truth.

We think so.

But we don't know who. We're getting
all sorts of conflicting information.

Duncan's all right, though?

- Molly...
- Duncan's not dead?

I promise...
soon as I know, you will.

Jimmy, I'm very sorry,
there's a telephone call.

- It's the Football League.
- Sorry. Excuse me.

Mr Hardaker.

Mr Murphy.

You have our sincerest condolences.

Do you have a clear picture
of what happened?

No, sir.

Obviously, under the circumstances,
the League is prepared to offer

a postponement of Saturday's match
against Wolverhampton Wanderers.

Thank you.

Goodbye, sir.

Jimmy, what can you tell us?

We're still waiting on confirmation of details.
We'll let you know when we have news.

What does this mean for the club?

It's not the time
to be thinking about the club.

This is the time to be thinking about the families
who've lost people... players, staff and reporters.

We're...We're praying for everyone.
Thank you, gentlemen.

At Old Trafford, the saddest football ground
in the world, the flags fly at half-mast.

Manchester United, the finest soccer
team Britain has produced since the war,

and seven of them died in the crash.

Ten others, as well as their famous
manager, Matt Busby, were injured,

some so seriously that
their lives hang in the balance.

I'm so sorry.

You speak English?

Yes.

What happened?
Who survived?

Matt Jones.

David Pegg.

Roger Byrne.

Geoffrey Bent.

Liam Whelan.

Tommy Taylor. Eddie Colman.

Dead.

Which... ones?

All of them?

Duncan Edwards. Does it say anything
about Duncan Edwards?

No.

Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Munich
lnternational Airport. Please remain in your seat.

He will be fine.
Three months' recovery.

I would say
70% chance of full recovery.

His left leg will never be the same.

It is unlikely he will play again.

His kidneys are very badly damaged.

We do everything we can
but I am not God.

That bandage wouldn't look
out of place in a cartoon.

I know.

Have you seen Dunc?

Aye.

He's doing fine.

You want to see him?

They won't let me.

They're all dead, Jimmy.

I know.

Why did this happen to us?

I don't know, son.

Everything's in hand.
I don't want you to worry.

Keep the flag flying.

I will, I promise.

I can't hear you, boss.

I said...

It's all my fault.

No, I don't want to hear that.

It is nothing to do with you.

The plane was my idea.

Rush them back...
for the League.

It's all my fault.

Where's me watch?

Have you seen me watch?

No, son.

You want me to find it for you?

What time's our kick-off
Saturday, Jimmy?

Three o'clock.

Get stuck in, chief.

Oh, we will.

I'm heading home.

They're starting to
ship the bodies back.

I want to be there.

It's my duty.

Is there anything you want me to do?

Anyone you want me to see?

- Are you flying home?
- No.

Getting the ferry.

You went back in, Harry.
Went back into the plane when it was burning.

I wasn't thinking.

I could just hear
that wee girl crying.

I would never have done that.

You don't know what you can do
until you're in that moment.

Why us, Harry?

- What?
- Why did we survive?

You can't think like that.

The bodies of 17 men,
all aboundingly full of life

only a few days before,
were back in Manchester.

They had left the city to play, or report,
or watch a game of football.

The tributes of their
friends in Germany,

and Manchester United had made
friends all over Europe,

bore witness to the appalling fate that
snatched from them their dearest possession,

life itself.

Four bodies of the 21 that came from Munich
had been taken off at London Airport.

Sporting journalists and the incomparable
Manchester United have suffered grievous loss.

Great players and writers who made the sport live
for millions at home were borne in a slow cortege.

Along the route to the club ground,
100,000 people stood in homage.

Man hath but a little time
here below.

For these poor men, even that little
was begrudged them and curtailed.

Why? It is no use to ask.

The nation, like Manchester,
can only mourn.

I used to hear them in the corridor,

outside my window, laughing
and yelling and crashing about.

Be too quiet now.

You all right, Moll?

Why did they get back on,
that last time?

Plane full of grown men and no-one said,
"I think this is a bad idea."

Why did nobody speak up?

I mean, were they all that stupid?

I wasn't there.

I'm so angry with him for
not saying anything.

Are you down to keep guard all night?

We'll look after 'em now.

Thank you.

I watched 'em.

Every home game, I was here.

These lads...

they were special.

They're not just the best team.
I mean, course they were.

They were the best loved.

The whole country loved these lads.

We didn't realise it till now.

Bobby?

- What are you doing here?
- I'm your chaperone.

Get you home in one piece. And before you ask,
Hook of Holland to Harwich. Ferry's already booked.

You didn't have to come, Jimmy.
I...I could have sorted myself out.

Now, have you been
in to see Duncan yet?

What are they saying
about his chances?

They gave the boss the Last Rites, and he's going
to be fine. I've stopped listening to predictions.

He's your friend, get in to see him.

Although one thing...
He doesn't know about the others.

Doctors thought the shock
might be too much, so...

I'll take that, go on.

Where the bloody hell have you been?

I've been up here on me tod.

Sorry.

Ah, you're not the only one.

Eddie, Jonesy, Pegg...
not seen hide nor hair.

What are you all playing at?

I need a drink.

Have you seen the nurse?

No.

I can never seem to get a drink.

I'm tired.

I hate lying here.

I just want to be playing.

Hey.

Got Milan next.

We'll have a grin on that trip.

If I can get a drink.

I'll see you back in England.

Alma said Stan Cullis telephoned, saying if
there was anything they could do to help...

Good man, Stan.

Not long now.

Bobby?

Hello, Mum.

Everyone's been asking.

They can't wait to see you.

We've been on pins all this time.

Taxi'll take us to the station.

You get in.

I should have been there for them.

Oh, thank God that you weren't,
'cos you've got a job to do.

We all have.

Alma?

Jimmy.

Hello.

- You're kidding.
- Oh, that's just this morning's delivery.

- What are we going to do with it all?
- We're sorting it into categories.

Letters to the families,
condolences for the club,

letters to players who've passed and...
contributions.What do you mean?

People aren't just sending cards and flowers.
They're sending money for the families.

Children sending their pocket money.

- We're keeping a tally of who sent what and to whom.
- How can we afford all these secretaries?

We can't.
They're doing it for nothing.

They wanted to do something, too.

Thank you, ladies. You're welcome.

Herr Doktor!

I want you to be strong, Bobby.

He's gone, lad.

They did everything they could.

With a bit of luck
and a fair tail wind,

I think we should be able to put out a team
for the match against Sheffield Wednesday.

- It'll be a make-do-and-mend team, but we can do it.
- Jimmy, it's not that simple.

- Those players weren't insured.
- No.

We just don't have enough money
to bring in new people.

Now, we've talked about this
and we've come to a decision.

As an option, we think it is both
practical and honourable.

For the time being, we're going to
shut down Manchester United Football Club.

Hear! Hear!

- No. Not... No. This club's needed more than ever now.
- Now be honest.

You'll never get enough players to pull on a
Manchester United shirt in so short a space of time.

- I can do it.
- Can't be done.

Don't tell me what can't be done!

When Matt Busby brought me here,
they told us it couldn't be done.

That Manchester United
would never make a success,

couldn't win the League playing kids,
couldn't match the best teams in Europe,

and we proved them wrong. So, with respect, sir,
it can be done. It will be done. I'll make sure of it.

- You're letting your grief dictate your actions.
- Course we are. What else have we got?

- There's no virtue...
- Grief's our fuel now.

- It's not practical.
- Let me speak.

I know those lads better than anyone.
I found them.

I nurtured them.

I stood with them, morning, noon and night,
through pissing rain, and gales and snow.

They let me mould their lives from
the ground up, and they repaid me.

They repaid this club with their skill
and their passion, and now their lives.

I'll not reward them by buckling.

Jimmy...

- we all want to honour the memory of those who died.
- No, no. No, it's not about their memory.

It's about showing who
we are to the world.

Showing we'll not
be bowed by tragedy.

Because how we are in the future will
be founded on how we behave today.

I am putting out a team. You'll have to manhandle
me from this building before I'll stop.

Any questions?

Alma, I need more players if we're to make it through.
Have you got that list?

- Clubs here, phone numbers there.
- Right.

- Are you all right, Jimmy?
- Well, this is what we do now, isn't it?

We got six days, no money,
we need a whole new team.

Hello, me old pal. Now listen, you know we're short.
Who have you got twiddling their toes?

Hello, it's Jimmy Murphy.

Yes, I'm looking for players.

Any players.

If he can run and knows what
a ball looks like, I'll take him.

None of us would want it to be this way.
You're our hopes for the future.

But the first team needs help.
I need to bring some of you forward.

This is your moment, lads.

Show me if you're ready.

Has he said anything
about coming back?

He's not said 'owt.

He used to laugh and sing all day.
Now nothing.

I'll just have a word.

Oh, and there was me thinking
you'd lost the knack of smiling.

Yard's looking good.

So...

match coming up. Sheffield Wednesday. Harry Gregg
and Bill Foulkes have declared themselves fit to play.

I just need you now, Bobby.

Listen...

Jimmy, look, I know how much
you've done for me, honestly.

- But I'll not change me mind.
- Let the game heal things.

But it can't, Jimmy.

How am I going to pass to another player,
knowing he's not Duncan?

How can I watch people pulling on
shirts that don't belong to them?

The lads are in every corner
of the club for me.

They are the club to me.

Without them,
it's not Manchester United.

Bobby, the one thing you and I
have now is each other.

Those lads can live on,
in us, if we fight...

If we realise neither of us is alone.

Remember how you started?
Remember why you loved the game?

I need you.

Don't be another one
who died out there.

I know. I know.

- Liverpool...
- Yeah, I...I just need to talk to Mr Taylor.

- ...and Nottingham Forest have offered what they can.
- No, no, love, no. No.

I know. Stop crying now.

- You can't just come in here.
- Can I help you?

Bishop Auckland. The amateurs.

- You've come all this way?
- Whatever you need us to do.

- You are not in this on your own, Mr Murphy.
- Just a second, love.

Have you ever run a set of trials?

Oh, aye.

Right, gentlemen.
Keep that pace up.

We're going toside-steps after this.
Oh, no.

Don't take this the wrong way, but I think
your best days might be behind you.

Line up on the 18-yard box,
please.

One touch, put the ball
past Mr Harry Gregg, please.

Right, who's first?

Rubbish.

Really

You proud of that, son

You'll only do that once.

Get his name.

- Is this yours?
- Yeah.

And in sports news, Manchester United
will tonight play Sheffield Wednesday

in the re-arranged FA Cup
quarterfinal tie postponed...

Photographer from the local paper...
sold it to the nationals.

- Trying to make a bloody name for himself.
- The cheeky bugger.

What's his name? I wouldn't mind
having a little word in his ear.

Intruding on people like that.

Oh, it's all right.

Aye, but you should be able to
walk down your own back lane, man.

Exactly.

- How's Marie's hip now, anyway? Is it...?
- Oh, don't, son.

That hip is the most variable joint
in the history of medicine.

Temperamental doesn't
even begin to cover it.

It only plays up when she wants
a cup of tea or a sandwich making.

But when she's got
something to do for herself, yeah,

when there's bingo,
there's this miraculous recovery.

Five doctors all said
the same thing.

- There's nowt wrong with it.
- Uncle Tommy?

- What?
- Can you drive me?

- Where to?
- Manchester.

I need to be at Old Trafford.

- I thought you said you weren't going to play.
- No, I'm not. I...I just need to be there.

Well, if it's all right
with your Uncle Tommy.

Yeah, aye.

I'll just...

Finish me pint first.

We might not make it in time,
you know.

We will if I put me foot down, man.

Hey, I'm in a Western.
Last stagecoach out of town.

Oh, bloody hell!
That's all we need, eh?

I want a slash.

Oh, come on, Tommy.

Away, man.

You sign here.

Quick photograph...

Welcome to the club.
Good lad.

There you are. Sign here.
Quick photograph...

Well done.
Now, an hour till kick-off.

We've got to find you a kit.
That's it, Alma.

Right, we're nearly there.
Not be long.

Nurse.

Come here.

Ra... Radio.
Get... Get me the radio.

Rah-dee-oh.
Und schnell.

Oh, God, the programme.

Mr Hardman's written
a lovely article.

"Manchester United will go on."

No names. I didn't know I'd have
11 players till this morning.

Feels right, it being blank.

Like it doesn't matter who the
players are. It's about the club.

Bloody hell.

The foundations will start
collapsing if this noise carries on.

I thought someone was pulling my leg
when they told me you were here.

Welcome home, Bobby.

- Thanks for bringing him.
- Aye, well, we didn't have much choice.

He was that definite about it.

For you, gentlemen,
best seats in the house. Thank you.

Apart from ours.

Will you sit with me?

Aye.

Do...do you mind
if I...I say a quick hello?

Go on. I'll see you later, son.

- See you, Bobby.
- Thank you.

All right, Bobby?

All right, Bobby?

You're back, then?

No, I'm...
I'm just visiting.

Right.

- Harry...
- No!

- I...
- Get out!

Some of us have got a game to win.

- Good luck.
- See you at training on Monday.

Bill Foulkes wins the toss for Manchester
United against Sheffield Wednesday,

and it's the most dramatic game
Busby's Babes have ever played.

Wednesday, in the striped shirts,
kick off.

Less than a fortnight
after the Munich air crash,

the Babes are fielding a scratch
side for a fifth round FA Cup tie,

and apart from Foulkes himself, the only member
of the original team is goalie Harry Gregg.

Come on, lads.

I'll be in training on Monday.

Good lad. 'Cos we got a right
old job on our hands!

Come on!

Old Trafford has seen
so many great days,

but for a brilliant
triumph over disaster,

surely none will ever be
as great as this.

And Bobby Charlton scores
the goal that beats Fulham

and takes Manchester United to Wembley for
the FA Cup final to face Bolton Wanderers.

It was a feat
no-one thought possible,

coming only three months after
the Munich tragedy

that devastated the team.

They're ready for you.

A lesser man...

couldn't have kept this club going.

Are we doing this talk or not?

Boss! I'm fine.

I'm fine.

You've...

You've seen the new badges
on your shirts.

A phoenix...

rising from the ashes.

So...

just you...

follow Jimmy's instructions.

You're at Wembley Stadium.

Cherish this moment 'cos you
never know when it'll come again.

To get this far has been a miracle.

We've already won just by being here.

Whatever happens out there today...

I am proud...

of each and every one of you.

You all know your jobs, out you go!

Go on, lads.