(bright music) (gentle music) (birds chirping) (cows mooing) (engine roaring) (voices clamoring) (man shouting) (whistle blowing) - Edie (groaning)!

- It's just a scratch!

- Come on, get up off your backside, you big girl's blouse.

Run it off, man!

In my day, we would play through the pain barrier, even with a broken leg.

I sometimes do.

(whistle blowing) Right, come on, let's try this new free hit formation.

- We're talking turbocharged, 420 horses, overhead lift cam with five valves a cylinder, electronic unit injectors, a 23.5 ton capacity, with a 16 ton bogey axle rating, and full electronic suspension.

The Ferrari Testarossa of the bus world.

- And, uh, still no road taxi?

- Right, you take it, laddie.

(whistle blowing) (men shouting) Goodness' sake, what do ya call that, boy, the dying swan?

- [Lachie] I thought you said dive right.

- There'll be nobody telling you which way to dive on Saturday, boy.

It'll be just you and your intuition.

- [Lachie] Get a life, fat man.

- What's that?

- I sense tension in the air twixt father and son.

- Don't you back chat me, lad.

You might be a big-time mortician, but on the shinty park, you are just another, as far as I'm concerned.

- Dad, it's just a shinty match.

- Just a shinty match?

This game goes back to the time of Christ, boy.

- Ah, here we go.

- And for the past 400 years, Lochdubh has played Dunbracken for the Angus McNichol Memorial Cup.

- And we haven't even won for the last 19.

- Exactly!

And if they win it once more, they get to keep the trophy.

But this is Lochdubh.

We are Lochdubhians!

Everything flows from that.

We are playing for our pride, our village, our lives!

So don't you tell me it's just a match.

(bottle popping) - Give us a break, Hamish.

I'm late for the shinty really.

- Shinty?

(engine revving) Soon?

I'd put that at, what, 95?

- Maybe 100, Hamish.

- See you later, Neil.

Come on, Jock.

- You know, I think she's settin' her cap at my dad.

- Lachie, son, she wears knitted ties.

- Oh, I see.

(engine roaring) (balls clacking) - Winner.

- Aye, double or quits.

- Can I rent a room?

- Certainly.

Through here.

Will that be a single you'll be after?

- For the moment.

(whistle blowing) - Aye, it's healing fine.

- And where do you think you're off to?

- We're on our way to the Stag for a pint.

- You're not, you're staying back for extra training.

- You know what you can do with your extra training, don't ya?

- That's it, you're dropped.

- You can't drop me, I quit.

- [Lachlan] Good!

- Lachlan, let's not be too hasty.

The team's more important than your arguments.

- I wouldn't play for him now if he got down on his bended knees.

- [Doc Brown] I'll get down on mine.

- I'll check, Rory.

You're dropped, and that's that!

- What's happening?

- They're fighting like ferrets in a sack, Black Bob.

Oh, this is going to be a skoosh.

- What are you trying to do, Lachlan.

- Without Lachie, we'll lose.

That cup will become a permanent fixture on Harry Balfour's bar.

And since they lost the singing contest, they'll never let us live it down.

- Jubel, you're in goals instead.

- Me?

- Lachlan, can I get a lift?

- Me in goals?

Me?

(clock ticking) (voices clamoring) - What is it to be, boys?

- 15 pints, please.

(tense music) - [Black Bob] What the hell is Macbeth up to?

- Never mind him, come on.

- [Man] And Dotty Johns?

- Oh, he's good, but he can't hold a candle to the old ones.

Do you remember the Macouan brothers?

Six foot twins from Achmore with only two good eyes between them.

- 18 games without defeat and never drunk once.

- Aye.

Well it makes a change in the Lochdubh team.

No wins in the last 20 years, and never sober.

- Hamish, sit yourself down.

We're having a consolation drink.

- For what?

- For the team gettin' beaten tomorrow (laughing).

- Our job is done here.

Come on.

- I'm looking for a motorcyclist, actually.

- All right, who's got my HTV?

- You know, yo should go easier on the boy, Lachlan.

- I know, you're right, Edie.

I say the same thing to myself again and again.

I just hear this voice inside shouting at him.

- He's a fine boy.

- Oh, maybe he needed a mother.

- What he needs now is space.

- You're right, Edie.

I know you're right.

But now to the matter in hand, yeah?

(chicken clucking) On ya go.

- So I'd appreciate it if the traffic in my area was kept below mach one, you know what I mean?

- I'm terribly sorry, Constable.

I will moderate my speed.

- So you're here on holiday then?

- Actually, you might be able to help me.

I'm looking for someone.

Name of McCrae, Mr. Lachlan McCrae.

Do you know him?

- Yeah, yeah, I know him.

If you take the northern road, it's first left.

Just cross right there, you can't miss it.

- Thank you.

- So would this be in the nature of a business matter?

- It would be more in the nature of a private matter, Constable.

- I see.

(motorcycle revving) Yeah, this is bravo 3-1-5, over.

- [Dispatcher] Bravo 3-1-5, go ahead, over.

- Yeah, could I have a registered keeper ident, please, on a red and black Honda CBR?

- [Dispatcher] Standby.

- Nice.

That's really nice.

- Wait til you try this.

Now, what do ya make of that?

- It's marjoram?

- Close.

- A hint of coriander?

- Nope.

- Well you've got me then.

- Wild mountain thyme.

- Never.

- Do you not have a problem with the bitterness?

- No, see, that's the beauty of it.

The sage takes that away.

Here, let me cut you a wee bit.

(voices clamoring) - What do you think?

- Hey, Agnes, that's excellent.

- Try them on.

- Is that not bad luck?

- [Barney] Nah.

- Rory, it's a shinty match, not a wedding.

- Lachie Junior.

- I won't be needing one, Agnes.

I'm not playing.

- Were you hurt?

- Him and his dad.

- Oh, come on, Lachie Junior.

You're our star player.

These shirts cost us 15 squid a skull.

Now I don't want failure associated with this establishment.

- Not my problem.

As far as I'm concerned, the shinty team's history.

- You're lucky.

I've got news that may change your mind.

(light music) - [Lachlan] Here, try this crowdie, Edith.

- You should be selling this stuff, you know.

- What, around here?

They'd rather have crinkle cut chips and frozen pizza.

- Aye.

(door knocking) - Who on earth can that be?

- Excuse me, are you fun-filled, cuddly landowning gent seeks lady with tractor?

- I am.

- Well, I'm carefree, attractive, 40-ish lady farmer with 300 acres.

- Never.

- Yes.

And I've brought a photo of my tractor.

- Well, I'll away now, Lachlan.

I'll see you tomorrow at the match.

- Drink up, boys.

The Lochdubh mob are in turmoil.

- (laughing) They might have got one over on us with the singing, but this will be our comeback!

- Oh yes!

And this time, the Angus McNichol trophy will be ours forever!

- [Men] Yeah!

- [Woman] How are the scones?

- Lovely.

Just lovely.

- [Woman] Good.

- And that's a lovely tractor, too.

20,000 miles, you say, and a full service history?

- And stored in the shed every night, as well.

- You don't say.

Well, well.

(soft music) (gulls cawing) - Now, girls, it's perfectly simple.

And, after four, one, two, three.

- Give us an L-O-C!

Sorry.

- [Leader] Esme, concentrate.

- So there you have it, TV John.

Scotland's conundrum in microcosm.

Do we market shinty as a cozy, tartan nostalgia-trip for tourists, or do we modernize it and introduce professionalism?

- Could we not have both?

- [Women] Give me an L-O-C-H Give me a D-U-B-H. What do ya got?

Loch - For God's sake, coward.

- Can I have a word with you?

- Aye, in a minute.

(voices clamoring) Oh, shut up!

- You shut up!

- Ach, leave it then.

I'm going.

(soft music) (birds chirping) (woman vocalizing) (all laughing) - Don't you worry, we'll lock 'em up.

Plus nobody gets any of these until the bus starts, at least.

(voices clamoring) - [Edie] Hi, how's the ankle, Jubel?

- Fine, fine.

- Jubel, I need to talk to you.

- Aye, okay.

- Hey, Lachlan, Lachlan.

Can you speak?

- I'll see you on the bus, Hamish.

- Come on, Jock.

(upbeat music) - Neil, Neil.

(all cheering) - Could we not have got a seat in the back?

- Sit in peace, man.

- Where's the tonic?

- I don't have the tonic.

I thought you had the tonic.

- [Agnes] In the name of the wee one.

- Didn't think you were coming.

- I might not be playing, Hamish, but I'm damned if I'm gonna miss the clack.

- All right.

- What do you mean you're late, late for what?

- Actually, it's handy that you're sitting here, Doc.

- Oh, aye?

- Then I thought, I'll just sell the farm and enjoy myself with all the proceeds.

- Remarkable.

Coin's remarkable.

- Lachlan, some of the team are drinking, and they were in the pub until three o'clock last night.

- Youthful exuberance, Edith (chuckling).

I'm sorry, Doloris.

You were saying?

- So, when I saw your advert.

(bright music) ♪ Here we go, here we go, here we go ♪ ♪ Here we go ♪ (engine rattling) Well, that's that.

- Can you sort it?

- No, I haven't a clue, Hamish.

- The D-12-E Euro.

Mind if I take a look?

Electronic unit injector.

- Aye.

- Well, there's nothing wrong with your microprocessor.

Pressure drop indicator's functioning E-1.

- It's probably a glitch in the bogey.

- I doubt it.

Ah.

Have you topped up your diesel?

- Try that.

(engine rumbling) (bright music) (all cheering) - Would you go another Mint Imperial?

- Temptress.

- Have you ever thought of getting a motorbike?

- Barney, you are so predictable.

- It's a kind of jungle house remix based on the sound of the 14th century piano.

- Savage.

Hey, Lachlan, can we speak?

- Later, Hamish!

Later!

- Well, say something.

- It was kind of like a fist slowly opening and closing around my lower bowel.

- Really?

- Yes!

Oh, but that's nothing.

Wait til I tell you what happened next.

(romantic music) - Would you look at that?

The old fool.

- Well, they might be stone-roofed, that doesn't mean he still hasn't got any fire in the grate, Lachie boy.

- All right.

It kind of makes you hanker back for knitted ties.

- Knitted ties?

- Oh come on, Hamish.

You're a man of the world.

Surely you understand the significance of knitted ties.

- No.

- Oh well, just ask Barney there.

He'll tell you all about it.

- Knitted ties?

(bright music) (men chanting) - Ah!

My leg's gone to sleep.

- Are you needing a massage, Rory?

- No, no, no, no.

See, it's grand, grand.

- [Agnes] Barney, take this.

- I thought these were meant for the journey back.

- And when they finally got it out, it was the size of a tennis ball.

Thanks for listening, Doc.

- Oh, that's stiff.

How about going for a wee walk to stretch our legs?

- Aye, that's a good idea for a walk.

- Hey, Lachlan, you got a team talk in the dressing room.

- [Lachlan] It's a shame to spoil it by staying inside.

- Lachlan, we need to speak.

John John, get into the clubhouse and do your stuff, eh?

- Aye, right.

(light music) (voices clamoring) What's your price on Dunbracken?

- Two to one on.

- [John] And Lochdubh?

- Four to one against, and lengthening.

- Can I put a tenner on Dunbracken?

- Dunbracken?

Oh, right.

- Look at you.

Have you got the things?

- They're in the hearse.

They're in the back.

- Can I tempt ya to a hotdog?

(voices clamoring) - Rory, you dropped your jockstrap.

- Right.

- I seen that earlier.

I thought it was a parachute.

- Well, who's for the wintergreen?

- Where's the gaffer, Hamish?

- He's away for a walk with his new friend.

- Away for a walk?

We need him here.

- I know, I'm working on it, John John.

Listen, get up and scope Lachlan before he makes a complete fool of himself.

- It's a bit late for that, Hamish.

(romantic music) (birds chirping) - You know, I've never noticed before how lovely the waterfall here is.

It just sort of cascades down like beautiful silver hair.

- Oh, Lachlan.

You say such beautiful things.

♪ I will build my love a bower ♪ ♪ By yon pure crystal fountain ♪ - [John] Lachlan, you're needed down in the dressing room.

- What for?

- [John] (chuckling) You're the coach.

- Go, Lachlan, go.

♪ And we'll all go together ♪ ♪ To pluck wild mountain thyme ♪ ♪ All around the blooming heather ♪ ♪ Will you go, lassie, go ♪ (voices clamoring) - Hey, gentlemen, I want to talk to you all about something that men often have great difficulty expressing in words.

Today, I want to talk to you about love.

In the great scheme of things.

- This is worse than I thought, Edie.

Keep an eye on him.

- Right, Hamish.

(solemn music) - All right, lads, the huddle.

Neil.

(man whimpering) - Sorry, Paul, but our need's greater than yours.

(audience cheering) (audience applauding) - [Barney] From the Stag Bar, Lochdubh.

- It's the team you're meant to be supporting, not the jerseys.

- Product placement, John.

- Where's the referee?

- He's not here yet.

- I'm a referee, I'll run the match.

- Hang on.

We need a neutral.

- A figure of authority.

- Macbeth, now he's the man to referee it.

- Aye, right enough.

Where is he?

- Macbeth, what the hell does he know about running a shinty match?

- Anyway, he doesn't have a kit.

- Just so happens I have.

(whistle blowing) (Paul snoring) (door creaking) - Oh, it's great how the hills roll down to the sea like a big sleeping giant with purple hair on the top, eh?

- Lachlan, if you do not shut up, I shall hit you.

- All right then, I want a good clean match from the both of you.

(shouting in foreign language) Okay then.

Let's give these people a shinty match to remember.

- Whatever you say, Hamish.

- What about you?

- Stay up, lads!

- Very good.

(tense music) (whistle blowing) (dramatic music) (all shouting) - Oh!

(ball clacking) (people cheering) - That's it, lads.

Don't have any players (laughing).

- [Man] Show some fight!

- Come on, it was a lucky goal, come on!

(whistle blowing) (tense music) (sticks whacking) (dramatic music) - Oh!

(ball clacking) (people cheering) - Roundly block him next time!

- Come on, it was a good goal, Edith, come on (laughing).

Fair's fair, now, fair's fair.

(whistle blowing) (dramatic music) (sticks whacking) (ball clacking) (people cheering) (whistle blowing) (sticks whacking) (ball clacking) (people shouting) (whistle blowing) (ball clacking) - It's only a game, Edith.

(Jubel shouting) (ball clacking) - That's the father of my child!

It's not the end of the world.

(whistle blowing) (voices clamoring) - How many fingers can you see?

- [Jubel] I'll marry the lassie.

I'll marry her.

- Sounds pretty serious.

- Doesn't look like concussion.

(whistle blowing) - Halftime.

Edie, I'm going to tell Lachlan the truth.

Get Esme the shortwave.

- Aye, you're doing fine, boys.

It's never easy here.

- [Hamish] Hey, Lachlan, can I have a word?

- I'm just telling the boys how much I'm enjoying the match.

- Lachlan, I need to talk to you in private.

- Anything you've got to say to me, Hamish, you can say in front of my boys here (chuckling).

- Fair enough.

The new love of your life is Doloris Pevidy.

- I know the woman's name, Hamish.

- Aye, but did you know that her maiden name was Balfour?

- Balfour?

- She's Harry Balfour's sister.

She set you up.

- They've been spying on us in the woods, too.

- What do you mean set me up?

- They saw your advert in the paper.

- Anything to win the match for the 20th time in a row.

- But the tractor and the proceeds.

- No, no, it's all a con.

They even hired the motorbike.

- Did they?

Indeed.

- [Edie] Never mind, Lachlan, you'll get over it.

- Oh, aye.

Oh.

No fool like an old fool, eh, boys, eh (chuckling)?

You might've told me a bit sooner, Hamish.

- I've been trying to talk to you all morning.

It doesn't matter, it fits in with the plan anyway.

- What plan?

(whistle blowing) - Right, thank you.

- What are the odds on Lochdubh, Harry?

- Oh, are you kidding?

20 to one.

- Oy!

- [Woman] Make mine a fiver.

- A fiver?

(people shouting) Right, who's on next?

- Lochdubh to red leader, Lochdubh to red leader.

Come in now.

- Hey, I have only one pair of hands!

- How many?

- Four?

- [Doc Brown] Close enough, you'll do.

- [Woman] You're going nowhere.

- [Jubel] This one's for the bairn.

- [Woman] He's staying here.

- Oh he's not fit enough to play in goals, it's all right.

- He doesn't have to, Daddy.

- Lachie Junior.

You're not in on this plan, as well, are you?

- [Lachie] No.

I really was hacked off.

- That.

I really was a bit too hard on ya, I suppose.

Oh, come here.

All right.

That's it, we're going to do it.

I know we are, I can feel it!

It's in the air!

(propellors whirring) (foreboding music) - That's it, the box is closed!

- How about take two.

- Isn't that?

- No, no, it can't be.

He's on the rigs.

- No, no, he was on the list.

- [Announcer] Ladies and gentlemen, we've just been informed that Lochdubh's substitute has been registered, Houston Old.

(people cheering) (upbeat music) ♪ You're simply the best ♪ ♪ Better than all the rest ♪ ♪ Better than anyone ♪ ♪ Anyone I've ever met ♪ ♪ Oh, baby ♪ ♪ Don't let go ♪ ♪ Oh, you're the best ♪ ♪ Better than all the rest ♪ ♪ Better than anyone ♪ ♪ Oh, you're the best ♪ (audience cheering) (tense music) - Those duplicitous Lochdubh dogs!

- Is that a bad thing?

(whistle blowing) (ball clacking) (dramatic music) (people cheering) (whistle blowing) - [Agnes] Come on, boys, come on.

Come on, you can do it.

Hit it, hit it!

(Agnes cheering) Oh yeah, we did it, we did it.

Four, two, four, two, four, two, four, two.

(paper tearing) - Come on, come on!

Where is it?

(crowd cheering) Oh God!

It's got to be here!

(Houston crashing) (whistle blowing) - [Dunbracken Player] Ref, that was never a penalty.

- Aye, it was.

- Aye, well you need your eyes tested.

- Anyway, you know, you left it.

(Rory groaning) (ball clacking) (voices clamoring) - [Black Bob] Ah ha!

- What?

I was wondering here this was.

- We don't have time for that!

God!

(crowd cheering) - Come on, Lochdubh!

Get into these people!

- Welcome back, Lachlan.

- Come on, boys!

(women clapping) (whistle blowing) (light music) - [Agnes] Wake 'em up, Danny.

(people cheering) (ball clacking) (people cheering) (whistle blowing) (solemn music) - Penalties.

- Yes!

(head smashing) - Oh!

(tense music) (ball thudding) (people cheering) - That's my boy that saved that!

(tense music) (whistle blowing) - Stop!

He can't play for Lochdubh!

He is from Kingussie!

(crowd cheering) - You're wrong.

He may be from Kingussie, but his mother is from Lochdubh.

- Just belt it out, son!

(people cheering) - [Women] Go, fight, go!

Go, fight, go!

(majestic music) - There's a dog on the pitch.

- He thinks it's all over.

(whistle blowing) (crowd cheering) - It is now.

(soft music) (propellors whirring) - He's some boy, that Houston.

You must be very proud of him.

- I am.

Did you know he's coming off the rigs next month?

- Is he, though?

- Mm hmm.

He'll be looking for a job.

He's actually looking for a business partner.

- Is that so?

Well, well.

(bright music)