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_
Jesus Christ!
Sorry, Ref. The door was open.
What can I do for you, Mitch?
Well, I'm just checking with you
if it's OK for me to be pitch-side during the match.
You know, get the crowd going and everything.
Not during the game, no.
Pre-match, half-time only.
It's just that Rovers have brought Scotty the Shrimp.
I thought we could get a bit of play-fighting going, you know?
- In jest, like, have a laugh. - No, I can't allow it. I'm sorry.
I'm not having the players distracted by
a six-foot prawn knocking seven shades of shite out of a...
..whatever it is you are.
This is not America, Mitch.
I understand.
Hey, it's your last-ever game today, isn't it?
It is, yes.
Well, I just want to say it's been an absolute privilege to work with you.
Fantastic.
And may the best team win.
Indeed.
I'd give it a minute before you go in there.
A few, er, pre-match nerves.
Well, it's a big game, isn't it?
It is. When I worked at the San Siro,
the WC was adjacent to the showers with a separate door,
and it had a self-lowering lavatory seat.
You felt pampered.
You're really early. What time is it?
1:58. Oh, 59.
I like to be fully uniformed before the captains' meeting.
Gives me that extra degree of authority.
Most definitely. I've known some refs slumming round
in sweat pants with a beer in their hand
at 20 to three like they're at a family barbecue.
No, you're one of the pros, Martin. A role model. I've always said it.
That's why you've lasted as long as you have.
Thank you, Brendan, I appreciate that.
- Was that Mitch I could hear just now? - It was.
I've never seen him out of that costume.
Do you think he could be a St Bernard?
Well, I was thinking more chipmunk, but you might be right.
They have got the shittest gym here I have ever seen.
My ex-wife's got a better treadmill in her utility room.
Well, admittedly the facilities are a little tired,
but if United win promotion today, that's all gonna change.
- That's a big if. - At the San Siro,
they had a treadmill in the officials' changing room, and someone
came round every 20 minutes
and replenished the towels. It's the little touches.
Where's Oggy?
Where'd you expect him to be?
Stuffing his face at the vending machine.
We only had lunch two hours ago.
I mean, the captains'll be here any minute.
We've got to synchronise our watches, go through the team sheet...
Shitting Nora!
Sorry, Phil.
That was me. There's no Glade.
- Did a rat crawl up your arse and die?! - Pre-match nerves.
You're the fourth official.
What have you got to be nervous about?
Holding up the wrong numbers on the board?
Yeah, you may joke, but that has happened.
Barry Crop once accidentally signalled for 56 minutes'
added time at a Sheffield derby game. And it was on Sky.
Took him a good few months to live that down, I tell you.
At the San Siro...
All right, Brendan, give it a rest, for fuck's sake!
Sorry.
I'll just, er, go and squirt a few drops of Aramis in the pan.
See if it'll help, er, dissimilate the odour.
You shouldn't speak to Brendan like that.
I heard he's being considered for the select group next season,
so you could be working under him.
Is that how you see the assistants? Under the referee?
I thought we were a team?
We are a team, and that includes the fourth official.
If we don't respect ourselves,
how are we gonna get respect from the players?
He's so boring, though, Martin!
He is boring, yes. And that's a very good quality in a referee.
He's anonymously competent, and that...
- takes guts. - Brendan hasn't got any guts.
He's dropped them all in there!
Right, well, I think that's, er, taken the edge off it.
Anyway, if anyone should be nervous, it's me.
Just seen Howard arrive with half a dozen Qataris.
They've come to cast their eye over me for 2022.
You don't think it's because it's
one of the biggest games in English football?
Well, yeah, there is that.
But if it goes well for me today,
I could be running the line at a World Cup, Martin.
Imagine being able to flag Neymar offside.
We are not the story, Phil.
We are neutral officiators. Never forget that.
Yeah, whatever. If I'm not back in 20 minutes, phone for the fire brigade.
He has got a lot to learn, that one.
Are those City pants, Brendan?
No!
Clean on this morning.
City. Yes, well we're away at Preston today.
Should be good for a point at least, don't you think?
Consolidate a play-off place.
You know my thoughts about team colours in the changing room.
Yes, but it's the last day of the season.
What with us being City fans...?
Take them off, please.
Of course.
Sorry, Martin.
It's been a good season for us, but, er...
..without the investment, you know, you can't really compete.
Still, if we win today, we might finish third.
We've always been the bridesmaid, never the bride.
True.
Without that cash we'll never be up there playing with the big boys.
If I had a pound for every time I'd heard you say that, Brendan.
You all right, boss? How you feeling?
Hey, it's filling up out there, you know.
You can cut the atmosphere with a cake slice.
Sorry.
- Have you warmed up, Oggy? - Yeah.
I did hot yoga in the bath this morning.
I am serious.
Don't worry, boss.
I'll do me stretches.
Where's Phil, anyway?
Doesn't he normally lead the ref-aerobics around now?
- He's shaving. - Yeah, I bet he is.
Bloody Sky's here.
He'll be doing a back, sack and crack wax, knowing him.
Hey, 20 quid he gels all his hair up like Gareth Gates.
No betting, Oggy!
You've been warned before.
Only joking! Christ, Martin!
Well, it's not a joking matter, is it?
What's up with you? This is meant to be your retirement.
Biggest game of your career.
- You should be relishing it. - I am relishing it.
Well, tell your face. It's longer than one of Brendan's stories.
- No offence. - None taken.
We don't all enjoy ourselves in the same way, Oggy.
All right.
So, goalie for United, number 1, Charlie Evans.
That's nice and easy.
Back four - Ripley, Price, Clyne and Cox.
They're your solicitors, aren't they, Brendan?
Er, midfield is that Polish one whose name I can never pronounce.
- Dzierzanowska. - That's him.
Looks like two bad hands at Scrabble.
And up front, Calvin Cooke!
I hope you've got his number, boss.
How d'you mean?
Well, he's got a temper on him.
A lot of inner demons, from what I've heard.
Well, he'll be here in a minute,
so you can find out for yourself, can't you?
Right, can we synchronise watches, please?
We don't have to do that.
It's not Mission: Impossible.
I've got 14:02 and 52 seconds.
Er, six minutes past two...
And let's synchronise, please. 56 seconds, 57...
BEEPING Hang on, hang on.
I can only put this one forwards, it won't go back.
For God's sake! It's three o'clock kick-off,
quarter to four for a pie and a piss,
ten to five, final score and get first round in.
It's not rocket science.
Fuckin' lukewarm water and the shampoo's like dog spunk.
Why hasn't this club got any money?
Hey! They're like a old bra -
no cups and crap support. I thank you!*
They had Aveda products throughout at the San Siro.
It's like a boutique hotel.
Do we know if Sky are showing this in 4K or just in HD?
I don't know. can we just... There you go!
What did I tell you? 20 quid.
- Worried about your bald spot, Phil? - Fuck off, Oggy!
Can we synchronise watches, please?
Hey, I saw you on the treadmill earlier
practising your backwards running.
- Bullshit. - It's true!
He practises running backwards doing his Collina face so he can get
a nice big close-up on TV.
No, it's so I can get better peripheral vision.
It's better than you chugging up and down like Mr fuckin' Creosote.
Is that right? Mr Creosote? Guys, please!
If United win today,
they get automatic promotion to the Premier League.
With merit payments and TV rights, that's a huge windfall.
Over 150 million, according to The Mirror.
Exactly.
And if Rovers win, they avoid
relegation into the lower leagues and financial oblivion.
So it's up to us to work as a team to ensure a fair result.
You know, it's going to be tense enough out there
without you two glaring at each other across the pitch
like Bette Davis and Joan Crawford.
He started it.
- "He started it." - I don't care!
We have to be beyond reproach in every decision we make.
So show some professionalism.
Calvin, come in.
Is Nico with you?
- Haven't seen him. - Oggy, go and get Nico, will you?
Tell him he's already three minutes late for the captains' meeting.
And you, go and do your manscaping, or whatever it is you do in there.
You, check the match ball.
I want it 12.5 psi.
Yes, Ref. Sorry.
What's this?
Retirement card.
What, from you or the whole team?
What do you think?
Hardly going to be walking around with my own card for you, am I?
So, big game.
Yeah. Yeah.
How you feeling?
I'm OK.
Can I kiss you?
What happened to your rules?
Please.
It's a big game for me as well, you know.
So now... ..you've just gotta give us
a couple of penalties, right?
I'd love it if I could. But I can't.
Not even if there's tugging in the box?
Don't even joke about it.
- If the PGMOL ever found out... - You're retiring!
Yeah, but it's my reputation, isn't it?
Not to mention the legal consequences.
I mean not just for me, but for the club!
Martin, nobody's gonna find out.
Relax.
I've got your back.
I love you.
Nico, nice of you to join us.
Right, now, I want a good clean game
with plenty of flow and all the focus on the football.
Everybody on that pitch knows the laws of the game.
And if we stick to that, there's no reason we can't have a fitting,
dignified, trouble-free end to the season.
Understand?
_
The referee's a wanker! The referee's a wanker!
Get him under control, you flaming animal!
- Oggy! - He chucked a bap at me!
- A what? - A bap! A bacon bap!
- Who did? - That Polish one. Dirty bastard.
- Dzierzanowska? - Yeah, that's him.
Flaming animal! I want his name in the book.
- If you can frigging spell it.. - You're bleeding.
No, it's just ketchup.
What should I put in the report, Martin?
Just put, "Food thrown in tunnel." We'll see what the damage is later.
At the San Siro, the ushers escorted you all the way down the tunnel.
And we had our own espresso machine.
This was before they became commonplace.
They're more ubiquitous than kettles now.
- Where's Phil? - He got collared by Mitch.
He was trying to show him video replay on his phone.
Well, he shouldn't be looking at that!
I know, but Phil is a pro. I'm sure he can handle himself.
Did you notice how he went and picked up the match ball
soon as you blew the whistle?
The he just stood there with his chin up
waiting for the Steadicam guy to circle round him?
Oggy's right. That's not protocol.
- He wears eyeliner, you know. - No, he doesn't.
Yes, he does!
Did you not see him when they had
that minute's silence for Butch Wilkins last year?
It was running all down his face!
Linesman Minnelli, they called him.
It was a goal, wasn't it?
It was a clear goal.
- There wasn't a hint of offside? - Not a chance.
I think what they were contesting was the throw-in.
Don't look at me. I was six foot away.
That was a throw-in all day, every day.
- Did you see it? No, I was on the far side.
And you're sure it was a throw-in?
May God strike me down.
It was 18 inches off the line.
- What, in or out? - In!
- I've just seen the replay. - Shit!
Nah, that's impossible. I saw it cross with my own eyes.
You should have gone to Specsavers, then, shouldn't you?
Calvin wanted to talk to you but I told him
he'd have to wait until after the game.
Yeah, well, quite right. It's only half-time, for goodness' sake.
Anything could happen yet!
- What did he say? - He's fuming!
Mitch the fuckin' Meerkat keeps on
showing everyone the footage on his phone.
What do you mean, Meerkat? He's an otter!
How can he be an otter?!
Otters are mustelids with tiny ears.
All right, David fucking Attenborough!
I always thought he was a tadpole, but it never sat right with me.
It'll blow over.
Yes. I don't even think Mitch knows what he is.
No, I mean the throw-in!
It's just one of those decisions, isn't it?
You know, some go for you, some go against you.
During the season, they just even themselves out.
No, I don't... I don't think they do.
What time was the goal? Er...
..27 minutes.
Which means the throw-in was at 26 minutes, right?
Well, I don't know. I don't time every throw-in, do I?
Well, somebody does!
Don't they, Oggy?
What are you on about?
Martin, can I have a word?
No, no, if you've got something to say, let's say it here.
All right.
In-play betting.
Every corner, every goal,
every free kick - you can bet on anything these days.
I know what in-play betting is!
Right, so if a betting syndicate from the Far East, say,
could guarantee exactly what time a throw-in would be awarded to
a certain team, well...
..a small fortune could be made.
Are you making an allegation here?
He's talking out of his arse.
It happens all the time in Italy. In the San Siro...
Will you stop going on about the shitting San Siro!
You were a backup referee at an under-14s friendly in 1992!
Under 17s.
You didn't even get on the pitch!
Envy eats nothing but its own heart.
- What?! - How come you know so much about it?
Because I was approached to take the same bung.
15K if I awarded Rovers a throw-in at exactly 26 minutes.
Easy money, the guy said.
But I told him no way.
Well... that's just a coincidence.
Big fucking coincidence. You see -
this is why we need VAR as standard. Then we wouldn't be in this pickle.
Not now, Brendan.
Did you take that money, Oggy?
I need you to tell me the truth now.
Now, I can call the police in here, we can have this game abandoned.
It was only a throw-in!
I didn't think it would matter that much either way.
My giddy aunt, I am not hearing this!
I didn't know they were gonna go and score off the back of it, did I?
It was a foot and a half in!
I panicked!
They said if I didn't comply, something bad would happen to me.
What, they'd unplug the vending machines?
Martin, please. It's your last-ever game.
I'll split the money with you.
I-I-I'll give it to charity.
Just don't dob me in it, please!
Just let me think, will you?
Why did you do it, Oggy?
We get treated like shit week in, week out.
Spat at by so-called fans,
abused by players, managers,
then the pundits weigh in and...
..suddenly your kids are getting bullied at school.
That's no excuse, Oggy.
What the fuck is going on with you lot today?
- Have you seen this footage? - Calvin, you cannot be in here!
There's no way that that's over the line. Look. Look!
We're not permitted to see that footage until after the game.
Are you kidding me, Martin? Are you
- fucking kidding me?! - Please, Calvin.
Where is he? Where is he?!
I'll rip his fucking head off!
- Mitchell, out! - Linesman?!
Call yourself a linesman? Have you seen that?
You could drive a fuckin' bus through that gap!
- Martin, you have to say something! - Come on, man!
At least send him out there to apologise.
What, so I can have food thrown in me face again?
You'd enjoy that, wouldn't you?
You'd eat it, you fat git!
Say that again, you...
Say it to my face!
Go on, say it again!
Go on! Go on! Go on!
What are you doing?
You're off! You're out the game!
You can't do that!
You can't do that. He can't do that, it's half-time!
Course he can. Brendan, tell him!
Law 12. The referee has the authority to take disciplinary action
from entering the field of play for the pre-match inspection
until leaving the field of play at the end of the match.
This is a conspiracy!
You should be whipped, the lot of you! Martin, you can't.
If I meant to show him the yellow card, I can change my mind, can't I?
You've already booked him once, Martin, it's a dismissal either way.
I want him red-carded - violent conduct!
Yeah? Well, it's nothing to do with you, is it, knobhead?!
Get him out of here!
Get my head!
Martin, you can't...
Not in this match, not today. Please!
Well, I'm sorry, Calvin. It's the laws of the game.
So, you know, it's a straight red.
A straight red?
Well, that's the only straight thing about you, then, isn't it?
You've sucked my cock for the last time, Martin, do you understand?
You're pathetic.
Don't call me again!
The referee's a wanker! The referee's a wanker!
The referee's a wanker!
I'll put all that in the report, or...?
Just put Number 9, Cooke, dismissed for violent conduct.
- Martin... - Don't.
Just don't.
What are we going to do about... the other thing?
Did you report that approach to the FA, Phil?
Course not.
I was scared of ruining my chances for the World Cup.
Right, then, in that case we just...
..make things even.
Martin, I don't think...
If the opportunity comes to give United a goal, I'm going to take it,
be it an offside or a penalty or whatever,
and I want you lot to back me up. Do you understand?
It's just about being fair and proper.
Sorry, but how is that fair and proper?
If he hadn't awarded that throw-in to Rovers,
they wouldn't have scored and it would have been 0-0, wouldn't it?
So we're just evening things up.
Whoever wins after that, well, good luck to them.
This is... highly irregular, Martin.
Are you're sure that...
..your judgment hasn't been coloured by...
..you know?
By what?
Calvin.
The fact you just suc...
Sent him off.
I've done nothing wrong.
My whole career has been above board and by the book.
Yet you're about to gift a goal to United.
My conscience is clear.
Now, if any of you want to report what's happened and go to the FA,
then say so now
and we'll stop this game.
Well?
We'd better get back out there.
The crowd are going to give you some stick, Martin.
That's nothing I can't handle.
Gentlemen, let's get out there
and restore some sanity.
_
There's all sorts of reports coming out of Wallis Park
at the moment, where the match between United and Rovers
was abandoned 12 minutes from time.
Let's go to our reporter there, Eamonn Travers.
Eamonn, is the picture any clearer yet?
No, John. As you say, rumours spreading here like wildfire.
There have been allegations of match-fixing,
collusion with the officials, and even, shall we say,
a personal relationship between a key player for United
and the referee Martin Rutherford.
The trouble started, well, it started in the first half
with that controversial goal for Rovers
and the mysterious dismissal at half-time
of the United captain Calvin Cooke,
but it was compounded by an extraordinary second half
which saw Rutherford award a frankly ludicrous penalty to United,
which was missed, and ordered to be retaken,
not once, not twice, but three times
until Kirby scored to level the game.
This led to a mass brawl on the pitch, five red cards...
The press are going to have an absolute field day with this.
Are you kidding? They already are.
Robbie Savage has just been on, tearing us to shreds.
He even had a go at my hair, which is the pot calling the kettle black.
How's Martin?
He's shaken but philosophical.
I think he's aware his legacy is somewhat tarnished.
Somewhat? He's the Lance Armstrong of football referees.
He's fucked himself.
Not... anatomically.
Or professionally, as long as we all stick together.
He can't be blamed for them players fighting like that.
Brendan, he gave a penalty for a handball
against the goalkeeper!
Well, he didn't know it was the keeper, did he?
What, the one in the big bright red shirt with gloves on
leaping through the air like Superman?
I think even Arsene Wenger might have spotted that one.
He was trying to even things up.
Just cancel out Oggy's mistake.
We are going to stand by him, aren't we?
Well... like I say.
He's fucked himself.
They want to speak to you next, Phil.
- Is Howard there? - Yeah.
And the police.
It's a criminal matter now, apparently.
Christ.
Are the Qataris still here?
You mean the Arabs? I didn't see any.
Fuck's sake!
If this costs me my World Cup spot...
I've always liked you, Phil.
You know that, don't you?
Not in a Martin and Calvin kind of way,
more like professional....
..respect.
You won't dob me in it, will you?
Please.
He's going to tell them everything, isn't he?
Course he is.
He'll sing like a canary on The X Factor to save his own skin.
You'd better get yourself a solicitor, pal.
Whatever happened to "What happens
in the ref's room stays in the ref's room"?
Nah, different game now.
You know when the rot set in?
When they started putting us in coloured jerseys.
Back in the day you were the Man in Black.
- Big characters like George Courtney. - Keith Hackett.
Yes. Men to be feared.
Then the television money came in and they demanded more colour.
Pinks, greens, burgundies.
We look more like Showaddywaddy than football referees.
Sports entertainment.
No, it's all about the money now.
As you well know, Oggy.
And that 15 grand won't take you very far through the courts.
I don't even think it was an eastern betting syndicate.
I think it was just one man putting a voice on.
Now I think of it, he sounded more like Benny Hill doing Mr Chow Mein.
All right, boss? How's your eye? Looks painful.
Yeah, stings a bit, you know.
Where's Phil?
He's... He's giving his statement to...
..to Howard and the police.
Well, bang goes my pension, then?
I don't think they can, er,
hold you entirely responsible, Martin.
You did it in the spirit of fairness.
No, I did it...
I did it for love.
Has Calvin been around?
No. I believe his agent whisked him away.
He'll be wanting to get his side of the story in the
Sunday papers before all the rumours start.
Yeah, of course...
He's a good lad.
If there's any way of keeping my name out of it,
I'd appreciate it, boss.
Yeah, of course.
Well, I'll do what I can.
Thanks.
Hey, er, give my love to the San Siro.
In bocca al lupo.
Good luck.
Come in.
Hi.
I just want to apologise about earlier, you know.
Things were said in the heat of the moment.
There's no hard feelings, Mitch? I understand.
Get carried away, we do, don't we?
About 22 blokes chasing a pig's bladder around a field.
Well, the game's nothing
without passion and we should never apologise for that.
Thanks. Er...
Anyway, look, I just wanted to let you know
that the place is crawling with press out there
and they all want to talk to you.
They're saying all sorts of nonsense about you and young Calvin.
I don't believe a word of it, mind you, now,
but when you leave, you know, you ought to use the back entrance.
Exit.
That's the one. Not the...
All right.
Er, hey!
You're a City fan, aren't you?
Er, yeah, yeah, for my sins.
Well, if it's any consolation, you had
a good win today, you know, Preston.
- 3-1. - Well. Every cloud?
They've also said they're gonna dock us points,
by the look of things, because of all the fracas.
- You think so? - Well, you saw it out there.
I mean, it was brutal.
They're already calling it "The War of Wallis Park".
Gary Lineker, he's been on Twitter
saying that it would be morally wrong if we were promoted.
Yeah, but he's into refugees and all that malarkey.
So he shouldn't be listened to, really.
He's an interfering do-gooder.
Yeah. Never professionally booked, though? That
You know what that means, though, don't you? We get docked
and we're gonna go down to third place.
And that means you lot, City,
you're gonna get promoted instead of us, you know?
£150 million quid right up the shitter!
No offence.
Well, that would be something.
Anyway, you know, I just wanted to say it's been a real pleasure
to work with you over the years,
and it's a shame it had to end like this, really, isn't it, you know?
Football?
Bloody hell.
Mitch, can I ask you a question?
Yeah. Yeah.
What creature are you?
What, this?
Absolutely no idea.
I know I look a right See You Next Tuesday in it, but, er...
you do anything for your club, don't you?
I suppose you do, yeah.
_
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