Wimbledon (2004) Movie Script
[thwacking of tennis ball]
[thwacking continues]
with a dream, don't we?
it's being in the final of a Grand Slam,
Game, set and match.
- You're a champion. You're number one.|- [cheering]
that's all it ever is: a dream.
My story.
No, not that kid in white,
the other tired good-looking fella.
Yeah, him. Well, that's me.
British Davis Cup, long time ago.
Two singles titles, even longer ago.
Presently ranked 119th in the world.
- Sport is cruel.
I know it doesn't sound too bad:
and I'm 119th,
but what that really means is this:
better and younger,...
and it gets you thinking.
[Peter's mother] He's 32 in September.
How long can Peter Colt keep playing?
[Peter] Stop it. Just serve.
where do they get the energy, the focus?
No fear.
The one thing you can't have is fear,
I'm afraid.
I'm not even afraid of the kid.
if that ball keeps going by me.
What happens then?
I hope you don't mind, but I took|the liberty of having it engraved.
- Wow.|- [chuckles] Exactly.
- My biggest problem is parking.|- Right.
Not for you, of course.|No, your own space. Name plate again.
Good.
Hello, Ian. Is this the young man|you told us about?
Peter Colt. The one and only.
- Once ranked 15th in the world, I hear.|- 11th, actually, for most of '96.
Yes, Peter's got himself a wild card|at Wimbledon.
We're hoping he'll hang his racket|here at the club.
We'll see.
We shall look forward to giving you|a peek at our ground strokes.
Do shut up.|Good luck at the Championships.
- Thank you very much.|- [clears throat] Yes. Carry on.
Er, Peter, Peter. Watch the ladies,|occupational hazard.
- Of course.|- Look at this, look at this.
Completely new hybrid.|Yes, developed by the Yanks.
Firm but springy.
Look, Peter... I can't wait forever.
- There's no-one I'd rather...|- Ian.
Look no further.|You have your tennis director.
That is splendid. So splendid.
- [birdsong]|- [church bells in distance]
Oh, look.|That's Peter Colt, the new pro.
Once ranked 17th in the world.
different from another?
Many people have those.
Some say it's a supportive family.
Really hungry.
I've never been hungry.
- And as for the supportive family...
Mum? Dad?
Anybody home?
[woman groans]
[panting]
[man and woman groan]
- [woman groans on TV]|- Hello, Carl.
Life still giving you trouble, is it?
Deep Throat,|director's cut. Absolute classic.
- Hey!|- [man and woman argue]
[Carl] They've been at it like that|like cats and dogs for weeks.
- You all right, Dad?|- [dismissively] Yes, yes.
Have you got|our Wimbledon tickets sorted?
Don't want to miss your grand finale.
I've never won a match at Wimbledon|with my family in attendance.
- We're not invited?|- Nope.
- She's not going to like that.|- What won't I like? Hello, darling.
- You're looking rather gaunt.|- Thank you. Why's Dad so upset?
Ridiculous man. He believes|I'm having an affair with Eliot Larkin.
Mother, he saw you snogging|in the club car park.
- That would do it.|- Not in the kitchen.
I wanted your father to see us,|that was the point.
Shake him out of his stupor.|Compel him to act.
I hear you plan to retire,|to baby-sit a bunch of old ladies.
Not what your father and I had in mind|all those years ago, cheering you on.
Do you know why? Because I believe you|to be a truly great tennis player.
You've always been afraid to admit it.
- I'm not afraid, I'm old.|- Don't be absurd, 31 is not old.
In tennis years,|I might as well be your age.
- Thank you, dear.|- I'm tired of hotels, airports,
long-distance love affairs and...
- Losing?|- Yeah, losing. Thanks, Carl.
- Now tell her about the tickets.|- [excitedly] Tickets?
Oh, God, you really are a wanker,|aren't you?
Harsh but fair.
[Augusta] Why doesn't he get us|tickets?! Do you know why?
Does he think we're going to sit here|watching it on television?
Dad, what are you doing up there?
Should've moved up here years ago.
- I'm off up to Wimbledon, then.|- Righto.
- Peter?|- Yeah?
Remember I always told you|that tennis was a gentleman's game?
[Peter] Yeah.
Total bollocks.
Everything I ever told you.|Total bollocks.
Right, then.
- Welcome to the Dorchester.|- Thank you.
- Your suite is top floor. Superb view.|- Really? You might have made a...
Thank you.
- [telephone rings]|- [man] I'll just show you where...
Wow.
[water starts running]
Well, they weren't wrong about the view.
- You need something?|- Yeah, I... I'm so sorry.
I was given the key to room 1221.
This is room 1221. My 1221.
Oh, right, your 1221.|Well, that makes perfect sense.
- What makes perfect sense?|- I'd reserved a more modest room,
and now I'll go down to the front desk|and thank them for this dreadful error.
- Goodbye, then.|- Yes, goodbye.
And may I say good body... Luck!
Shit. I meant...
Shit.
- Lovely kitchen.|-This way.
See, now that's much cosier.
about my personal life.
- That's why it's "personal".
Right. I just wanna focus on my game.
with my dad on this one,
all that other stuff gets in the way.
with chair umpires.
deliberately disrupt matches.
a little over the top sometimes,
to play my best.
to win Wimbledon.
[interviewer] Good luck.
Gonna knock 'em dead this year, Peter?|I've got a strong feeling.
Thanks, Danny.
- Gonna knock 'em dead, lvan?|- I'll try.
[Danny] I've got a strong feeling.
[woman] See you later.
[Peter] Dieter, you wanna go for dinner?
- Afraid not. I may get lucky tonight.|- Oh, really?
Irish girl. Her dad owns much of Dublin.
Excellent. She have a sister?
Only child.
Tragic. I should work|on my serve anyway.
If this is my last hurrah,|I want to go in style.
That's the spirit, old man.
Bugger.
Oops. Sorry, wrong court.
- Forgotten me already?|- The lady with the lovely... kitchen.
- Lizzie Bradbury, right?|- And you're?
- Peter. Peter Colt.|- Nice to meet you, Peter Peter Colt.
Five quid says you can't do it again.
Ten bucks says|you can't hit two in a row.
You're on.
- Lovely form.|- Thank you.
- You're exceeding my expectations.|- Mine too.
Do it with a slice serve,|I'll treat you to fish and chips.
Ooh, the pressure's on.
Lovely toss.
Fish and chips it is.
- Lizzie, what are you doing?|- Just one more serve, Daddy.
You've got to be in the hotel|for an interview.
Two seconds, OK?
Funny, you don't seem the daddy type.
Hit this one... and I'll sleep with you.
- Ooh!|- I'm so sorry!
Too bad. You could've used the workout.
of the Championships,
on Centre Court
include Andy Roddick, Serena Williams
Tom Cavendish.
include journeyman veteran Peter Colt.
of Lizzie Bradbury.
to her lively reputation?
What are you talking about?|The chalk flew up! There's a mark there!
- The ball was out.|- [man] Get on with it!
I'll let it go, cos you obviously|can't see. I feel sorry for you.
[crowd moans disapprovingly]
- [umpire] Quiet, please.
- [umpire] 40-15.|- [cheering]
[man] All right, Liz!
How are you doing?
- What time's your match?|- Three o'clock. Ajay Bhatt.
- You ever heard of him?|- Yeah, yeah.
- He's sitting over there. Look.|- Oh, my God.
Shouldn't he be off|discovering masturbation?
I played him in Bogot. He's like|all young men, out to kill the father.
Like all young men,|he must first be taught humility.
Exactly. And you taught him that|in Bogot?
Sadly, no. He killed the father.|Straight sets.
Watch out for his backhand.
[gulls cry]
[horse-racing commentary on TV]
[man] Yeah, six-to-four on, apparently.
Twenty pound to win, Ajay Bhatt.
Hold on, isn't he playing your brother?
You should be ashamed of yourself.
Yeah, but curiously, I'm not.
- [announcer] 2-6, 7-5, 6-4.
This is what it looks like.
for 25 years.
Six million balls. And it all ends here.
At two in the afternoon on Court 17,
for the latest Russian teenage beauty.
make it last a little while.
[man] Come on, Pete.
Good luck, Mr Colt.
Thank you.
Bhatt to serve. First set.
Right, then.
[umpire] Play.
- [grunts]|- [grunts]
[polite applause]
Love-15.
[Peter] OK, nice. Not embarrassing.
and you've got it in the bag.
Oi, bloody rabbit, shoo!
[cheering on television]
- [John Barrett] Our first match point.|- [Edward Colt] Come on.
with new-found confidence today.
Colt serves, wide to Bhatt's forehand.
[Edward] Yes, get it. Yes, good shot.
Well done, come on.
- [cheering on TV]
[Edward] He's done it! He's done it!
He's through round one.
Not interested.
What?
- Not interested.|- Oh, suit yourself.
So you think that kid has a future?
Yes, I do. I expect one day to be|the answer to the trivia question
"Who beat Ajay Bhatt|in his first ever Grand Slam?"
- What Wimbledon is this for you?|- My 13th, actually.
And since this may be my last|Wimbledon press conference,
- I'd like to take the opportunity to...|- [reporter] Jake!
- announce my retirement from...|- Jake!
- ...tennis|- [all shout questions]
- [cameras click]|- That's my retirement from tennis.
[all talk at Jake]
Effective the moment|this tournament ends.
[hubbub]
Tomorrow, rear entrance, nine o'clock|sharp. We can avoid all of this.
Excuse me, please. Come on, sweetheart.
Lizzie. Lizzie.
Excuse me. Excuse me.
Excuse me.
[beeps] You have one new message.
[beeps]
You still owe me fish and chips.
Uh, say seven o'clock, room 1221.
- That's my 1221.|- Oh, bollocks!
- [knock]|- [Lizzie] It's open.
in the northern sky.
the comet gained its name
in the South Pacific.
it's appeared,
for the next two weeks.
- Hi.|- Hi.
- Two fish and chips as promised.|- Um...
- What?|- Let me just...
Oh, jeez. How embarrassing.
- Are you hungry?|- Um, not quite.
- I've got a question for you.|- Right.
Where do you come down on the|fooling-around-before-a-match issue?
- That's a very intriguing question.|- Cos I think a little fooling around
can be really good for your game.|You know, help you relax.
Um, I'm not sure I've done enough|research to have a definitive opinion.
- That's very sad.|- Yes, it is, isn't it? It is...
It's very sad.
Don't get me wrong, I'm very interested|in doing the necessary research.
- Are you?|- I'm interested.
Peter...
No-one can know about this, OK?
Really? I had been planning|a brief press statement.
Seriously. Especially my dad.
He says if there's a guy around,|my first serve gets mushy.
You can't win with a mushy serve.
No. So we'll keep it light, OK?
Absolutely fine with me.|We'll just keep it fun and...
[both] Relaxed.
Good.
Peter?
Excellent, more research.
[John Barrett] Another point lost.
on this court,
known as the "Graveyard of Champions".
has been less than inspired.
[Peter] Oh, God, I'm tired. So tired.
Stay up all night doing research?
You're bound to be exhausted.
- [John Barrett] What a pity.
by two sets to one.
Hello, do you mind?
[commentary on TV]
Oh, bugger. And he was doing so well.
Don't write him off yet, Pauline.
Some young men, I find, have a stamina|that's really quite deceptive.
He did win the French Open.
Three games? Three lousy games.
and you got three games?
[umpire] Time.
- [Peter] It's pathetic.|- [man] Come on, Peter!
to see you lose.
Come on, Peter!
[Peter] Oh, great.
[man] Come on, Pete!
[grunts]
- [umpire] Love-15.
top-ten player in two years is at 5-4,
three points from winning the match.
[umpire] 30-love.
- You were with me last match.|- Yes, sir. Brilliant play, sir.
- Could I trouble you?|- Sorry.
[cheers of support]
- 40-love.
And we have our first match point.
[man] Come on, Peter.
- [umpire] Game, set, match, Colt.
has defeated the French Open champion
to advance to the third round.
[umpire] 6-4, 4-6, 2-6, 7-5, 6-4.
- [crowd boo and jeer]|- [Dragomir yells]
Peter, this way, please.
- Thought I'd done my last one of these.|- [man] So did we.
[laughter]
[man] Peter, did you know Dragomir
is the first seeded player|you've defeated in three years?
Yes, two months and 14 days,|but who's counting?
What do you think|of your next opponent?
In all the excitement, I haven't|even checked to see who it is.
[woman] It's your practice partner,|Dieter Prohl.
Two friends now face each other as|enemies. lntriguing existential dilemma.
Room 1221, please. Bradbury.
Is your elbow playing up?
If I admit that,|you may use it to your advantage.
Wow, that's terrible.|Is that what our friendship's come to?
Dodgy shoulder, maybe? Have you?
Most everything aches.|What doesn't, I can't feel at all.
Hello? Hello?!
We should still practise|and stick to the routine.
The hotel offered me a better room|and I told them "I'm on a roll."
At such moments,|superstition's all we have.
Even when I'm taking a shit,|I must do it exactly the same.
I'd never thought of that,|that's genius.
Think of everything important,|do it the same. Wait a minute.
That's OK, put me through.
Lizzie, don't say a word. I was thinking|a repeat of the other night,
like fish and chips, early to bed...
Mr Bradbury, hello.
Mr Bradbury?
Damn.
- Yeah?|- Yeah.
[groans from crowd]
[woman speaks ltalian]
Peter.
Come sta?
You are the Dragomir slayer.
How are you? You look a million lire.
Thank you. I try.|Do you know my partner, Sophia?
- No. Hi.|- Nice to meet you.
- So?|- I'm looking for Lizzie Bradbury.
- Have you seen her?|- No. You should ask Jake Hammond.
- Oh, really? Why?|- Why do you think?
Oh, right.
Ciao.
- Good luck tomorrow.|- Thank you.
- Looking for someone?|- Yeah... Yeah, yes.
It wouldn't happen to be my daughter?
Yes, it would.
- It's Colt, right?|- Yes, but please call me Peter.
Lizzie's on a roll now and I don't|want her to have any distractions.
Right. Of course.
Sorry, just to clarify,|do you see me as a distraction?
That's exactly how I see you.
So stop looking for her,|stop calling her,
stop coming around, stop every damn|thing that involves my daughter.
Is that clear?
[crack of thunder]
[groans from crowd]
[Dieter] In a few thousand years, the|English will have evolved webbed feet.
Yes, about the same time the first|German evolves a sense of humour.
No, no, no, that's not fair.|Many times I make you laugh.
No, I'm laughing at you, not with you.
Somebody wants you.
- I think I'll...|- I think you will too.
- Now, that was quite funny.|- Yeah, I know.
Hey, get some rest tonight.|I don't want to win too easily.
What with you and that,|what is it, bad knee?
- I have a little confession to make.|- Oh, God.
When you walked into my room|the other day,
I knew exactly who you were.
- You did?|- Mm-hm.
I saw you play Tommy Haas|at the Lipton last year.
- Oh, shit.|- [giggles] Yeah.
You were ahead|but you totally fell apart.
Yeah, as I recall a ball girl|couldn't get out of the way of my serve.
You gallantly carried her off the court.
I thought you were such a...
asshole, to lose like that|when you were playing so beautifully.
But I couldn't get it out of my head.
I kept hoping I'd run into you, until|finally you walked into my hotel room.
Like a knight in shining armour,|perhaps?
- [chuckles]|- No.
Trouble is I'm the one|that needs saving.
Yesterday, I was losing...
and then I saw you watching.
This Year's Love]
[giggles] What?
Perhaps my first serve's|getting a little mushy.
This year's love, it better last
Heaven knows it's high time
I've been waiting
On my own too long
And when you hold me like you do
- It feels so right...|- Oh. Hey, look.
There it is, the comet.|See, with the little tail behind it?
- Hardly anything, is it?|- Barely moving.
We have to wish on it.
Did you wish on your next match?
Wouldn't work if I told you.
[giggles] Who are you playing?
- Good friend of mine, Dieter Prohl.|- A friend?
Then you should know how to beat him.|What are his weaknesses?
Um, sausages, Wagner,|men in leather shorts.
In his game? That's why I gave up|having friends in tennis.
You have to dig deep|to kill your friends.
- I have to kill him?|- Without thinking twice.
- I don't envy you.|- Why?
together, practically live together.
friend in the third round of Wimbledon?
Because that is killing him.
It's a bullet to the heart.
There's a winner and a loser.
one of you is going to be a loser.
[Peter grunts]
[horn]
[gasps]
Bloody pedals!
[horse-racing commentary on TV]
All right, Vij?
Where the hell are the men's matches?
Roddick lost to Jake Hammond, four sets.
Shit. What about Peter and Prohl?
- You didn't hear?|- No.
Straight sets, man. Peter decimated him.
- Shit.|- You bet against him again?
Yeah. He usually comes through.|He's been on such a good losing streak.
- Here, are you Peter Colt's brother?|- Possibly.
I've seen you in here,|watching the matches.
Yeah.
You could say tennis is my life.
- My passion's chat rooms.|- Really?
- Broadband.|- Of course.
[interviewer in adjacent room]
You may have humiliated the Kraut,|but you are not done with him.
We change your routine not one iota.
[Dieter]|I'm still your practice partner.
Thanks, mate.
Anyway, you know it was|a hell of a lot closer than the score.
A net cord or two|it would've been different.
Bullshit. You annihilated me. You...
You hit from the soul, the heart.
Something's happened to you.|Something else, something...
The girl in the taxi.|The end of the waving hand.
That's where the fire comes from,|admit it.
Dieter, listen...
do you think that in the middle|of a championship,
and the first time in years,|I'm actually winning,
I'd be dumb enough|to get involved with a woman?
Absolutely.
[beep]
You have eight new messages.
Well, aren't I popular?
[beep]
Well done!
before you start with us.
the ladies send their regards.
[laughs lasciviously]
[machine beeps]
[Lizzie] You were incredible today.
I'll call you later.
[machine beeps] Peter, remember me?
- [machine] It's your mother. I hear...
What did I always say about you?
I don't know. Remind me, Ron.
So cucumber, and cucumber. They forgot|to put the sandwich in my sandwich.
What you doing here?|You're not still my agent.
- What are you talking about?|- What am I talking about?
I called you a year ago and I'm still|waiting for you to call back.
Yeah, I'm into e-mails now.|I don't do the phone thing.
Ron...
that's a lie.
Yeah, it's a lie.|You want me to be honest?
Agents are not miracle workers.|We can't sell products that don't exist.
But you exist again,|so I'm back selling again.
You know, I genuinely despise you.
And you know what?|I really don't take it personally.
This could all be over by Monday.|Cavendish is a serve-and-volley guy,
you always play shit against him,|so let's capitalise now.
I don't want you to be the English guy|who beat his friend the German guy,
only to lose to the other English guy.
I want to make you some money.|Got a problem with that?
You have to cut your commission.
OK, that's a no-go area.|Everybody pays ten per cent.
Say five per cent,|or my next offer's four.
You know,|success has really changed you.
And I'm loving it. You got a deal.
Besides, I have a feeling|Cavendish is going down. Tea?
- I'd love some.|- Let's talk business.
Slazenger's having|a cocktail party tonight
and everybody's dying to meet you|for the very first time. All over again.
[music, chatter]
[fans clamour]
[cameras click]
- I'll call you.|- I'll ring you tomorrow.
Fine. Lizzie.
Ronnie. How're they hanging?
- Fine. And yours?|- Fine. Who's your new friend?
- You haven't met?|- I'm Lizzie.
- Peter. Peter Colt.|- The Peter Peter Colt?
- I've heard a lot about you.|- Nothing good, I hope.
That you're not afraid|to come to the net.
- I hear you're going to go all the way.|- Every chance I get.
If this works out, do I get the...
You can have ten per cent of our kids.
- You all right? You look beautiful.|- Thank you.
- You come along and play matchmaker?|- I'm sorry. I got excited by the math.
Let's talk over this Nike thing. She'll|be home before she turns into a pumpkin.
One day...
none of this will be ours.
Oh, no. Asshole incoming, four o'clock.
Lizzie, what's the deal? I've left you|like half a dozen messages.
Really? How about that.
- Hi.|- Do you know Peter Colt?
- We met...|- First round, San Jose last year.
Exactly. A memorable match.
Yeah. Which I, like, won.
Peter's in the quarters. Did you hear?
Wait a second... Are you screwing him?
- You know what...|- You are, aren't you?
- I don't believe this.|- Listen...
Whoa, what are you, Grandpa,|ranked like 120?
I thought they were all just rumours,|but you are a cheap little...
- Jesus, that really hurt.|- But you did it so well.
- [Jake] I'm fine!|- Night, Jake.
- Yes, don't get up.|- [Jake] Leave me alone. I'm fine!
That's the first time|I've ever hit anybody in my life.
[reporters and fans scream]
Lizzie? Lizzie!
- [yelps]|- Other side.
[photographers shout]
[tyres screech]
I've never had anyone|fight for my honour before.
I kinda like it.
- [Lizzie whoops]|- [horn]
- [Peter] You're not safe to be with.|- [Lizzie] Wait till you see me drive.
[gulls cry]
So, these are the wild streets|of my youth:
the drugs, the sex, the milkshakes.
My parents live here|and I still keep a flat.
- So we can stay there tonight?|- Yeah, but what about your dad?
Ah, let him find his own place.
- Who's next?|- Coffees for table five.
- Parents are such a responsibility.|- Worse than children.
Definitely.
My parents got divorced when I was 13.
My mom was always on the road|trying to be a singer.
- What went wrong.|- She couldn't sing.
- So mainly my dad brought me up.|- Mine are still together.
Which proves that love's not just blind,|it's bloody stupid.
Sad. Everything they loved in each other|now seems to drive them crazy.
I can't imagine ever wanting|to get married.
No. No. I mean that's|why we love the tour, isn't it?
There's always another country,|another airport...
- Another girl.|- That's right, Lesley.
- Lizzie. I meant Lizzie.|- You said Lesley. Who's Lesley?
[gull cries]
As you can see, we've had to fire|builders due to creative differences.
And truthfully, Peter's had|a bit of a liquidity problem.
- Oh, my nan liked a drink. Sherry.|- Right.
- Piccy?|- Just a bitty.
- Carl, what are you doing?|- Ah, Pete, hi.
Wasn't expecting you.|Shit, that's Lizzie Bradbury.
- Can I take a picture?|- No, you can't.
- Digital.|- Look what I found. Oh, hello.
- Give me that!|- Oh, I only got four pizzas.
Oh, for God's sake... Right, get out.
- You too, sunshine.|- Bugger, I had it on landscape.
- It's not funny.|- I'm sorry.
[Carl] Change of venue, girls.|Your mum's or mine?
- Big fan.|- Go on, leave.
- I am so sorry.|- Might want to change the sheets.
[gulls cry]
- [voicemail beeps]|- Hi, Daddy, it's me.
I know you're probably going nuts|and wanna kill me,
but everything's cool, really.
Um... It's hard to explain.
I really needed to do this.
I gotta go, I'll see you at practice|in the morning.
- Everything all right?|- Everything's great.
- Wanna go and have a workout?|- Thought we just had one.
[Peter] Now are you sure about this?|I usually do ten miles.
- Why are you running behind me?|- Just enjoying the view.
Cozing it
Yeah
I'm takin'it step by step
Boy, here and now
We're caught in a moment
I won't let it go
It belongs to you and I...
Hey, look at that.
This is where my dad|taught me to play tennis.
[Lizzie] Look at it now. It's a shame.
Yeah. [sighs]
[grunts] Ace!
[giggles] Come on, make a little effort.
Ace!
What's the matter with you?|Are you scared of a girl?
There's something I haven't told you.
What?
This is my last tournament.
No matter what happens.
But you're doing so great.
Hey, you just have to...
- Keep winning.|- Right.
So keep winning.
[English accent] Finally, Colt returns|with a cross-court forehand.
[both grunt]
Ah! Colt makes a smashing return.
With unlady-like effort,|Bradbury strains to get to the ball.
[Lizzie]|Ooh, it's an extremely high lob.
Will he maintain|his gentlemanly composure or will he,
dare I say, win the point?
Hold on, what's happened to the ball?
Look.
Gotta go, bye.
- 100 on Cavendish in the quarters.|- Hold your horses.
So, still betting against your brother?
It's tactical. If he loses, I get rich,|if he wins, I get laid.
- Where did you get 100 anyway?|- [clicks] Photo journalism.
in a challenging battle of designs.
Look, Lyndsey, a green grasshopper.
[West Country accent] I trust you slept|well after your night of debauchery.
[Southern US accent]|I declare I surely did.
So did I.
God, no wonder the English|never win Wimbledon.
in the finals, but come on.
is the luckiest man in tennis.
Wanker.
[reporters all shout]
God, it's incredible how much|that actor looks like your dad.
- Oh, shit.|- Incredible how much that building...
[both] Shit!
- [TV] The Sun newspaper...|- [Peter] Hide!
-...published this photo of Colt...|- Carl, you bastard!
- [knock on door]|- [exhales]
- Oh, hello, Mr Bradbury.|- Where's my daughter?
Gone, sadly, and sadly, gone.
She had to work on that first serve.
- I expect she's at the practice...|- Bullshitting me?
Absolutely not. I wouldn't dream of it.
So how was your trip down? The traffic|can be murder getting out of London.
- We left early.|- The early bird does catch the...
Would you like a cup of, er, tea?
Maybe something stronger?|A shot of whisky?
A shot at me, perhaps?
- It's Peter, right?|- Yeah.
Look, Peter, I got nothing against you,|you seem like a nice guy.
Oh, good.
I'm not an idiot, I know that Lizzie|likes to have her fun,
and it keeps her relaxed,|and if you were just another easy...
You know, that would be one thing.|But you're not.
- Actually, I was incredibly easy.|- No.
This time it's different. She's...
- falling for you.|- Oh, I see.
- Which is a total disaster.|- Why? She's hardly lost a serve.
Her footwork is off,|her serve is a mess,
she's gotta get her head back in the|game, remember what it is she wants.
- What do you think that is?|- What we've worked towards for years.
What she's always wanted|more than anything.
- I still want it.|- Oh, hi.
I want to win Wimbledon.
- I'm sorry.|- That's all right, sweetheart.
We'd better get going,|we got a lot of work to do.
- You're gonna go?|- Mm-hm. He's right.
- Sorry.|- Wait a second.
[door closes]
[Peter] Lizzie! Lizzie!
This is ridiculous. You're a grown woman|and should make your own decisions.
This is my decision.|We can be together afterwards.
What does that mean? You can't switch me|on and off like a light bulb.
- I'll call at the hotel.|- She won't be there.
- What?|- I'm sorry, kid,
but if you're together, she can't play.
[shouting]
It's an all-British affair,
of the crowd and the match.
He's up a break in the first set,
of a nation upon him,
- [umpire] Quiet, please.
[shouting dies down]
[crowd members begin to cheer]
[grunts]
[umpire] Touch. 40-love.
That's set point for Tom Cavendish.
Candy, they're only knocking the wall|down from the window to the patio door.
- Talk to Sergei.|- She hits short, you come in.
- Stop bugging me.|- She'll never pass...
I'm focused. I know the game plan.
Yeah, right.
- [music on headphones]|- He's out of my head now. It's over.
Stop freaking out on me.
Yeah, it was definitely his ankle.
This is ugly.
- [yells in pain]|- [crowd] Cavendish!
a free pass to the semis.
Think you can go on?
[crowd chants] Tom! Tom! Tom! Tom!
[John McEnroe] Not so fast, Chrissie.
They worship the kid here.
take advantage of Cavendish?
much of a killer instinct.
[umpire] Quiet, please.
- [Chris Evert] There's your answer.
Watch out, Tom Cavendish.
Can we take another route?|Her match is at three.
I doubt it. It's chocker.
[radio] Three match points.
in these championships.
- What's the score, sweetheart?|- Match point.
- [umpire] Game, set...
[McEnroe] Colt has done it again.
another seeded player goes down,
Pierre Maroux in the semis on Friday.
- Congratulations, my friend.|- Thanks, but my countrymen hate me.
I just destroyed|their best hopes of winning.
- Everyone loves a winner.|- Everyone but the British.
[girls shout] Peter! Peter!
- [girl] Sign this, please?|- Thank you.
- See, I was right. Everybody loves you.|- Almost everybody.
[man] Go on, Liz. Oh, well played.
[umpire] 30-all.
What do you think makes her|so extraordinary?
No embarrassment, no fear.|She makes a decision, she goes for it.
It's a turn-on for the rest of us, cos|generally, we're all scared shitless.
- Even you?|- Me? I hate making decisions.
Like right now, I'm very, very afraid.
If you don't see that girl again,|it'll screw up your confidence.
On the other hand, I'm petrified that|if I tell you where she's camped out,
- her father will fire my ass.|- Where's the girl camped out?
- [player grunts]|- I made a decision.
leads four games to one, final set.
Me too.
[strains]
[dog snarls]
Oh, shh. No, no. Hi.
[growls]
It's not what you think, so don't...
[barks]
I'll jump. I'll jump.
I will. You want that|on your conscience?
Thank you.
[whispers] Lizzie? Lizzie?
Lizzie, it's me.
- [dog barks]|- Shit!
- [groans]|- [dog continues to bark]
Hey!
- Shut up!|- [ barking stops]
Noisy little shit.
Ow!
That hurt.
- Shit!|- [gasps]
- Bugger.|- Peter!
- Yeah.|- What are you doing here?
That's an excellent question.
The sad fact of the matter is I can't|get through 24 hours without you.
I've missed you, Peter Peter Colt.
You have?
- But I need you to go.|- No, You need me to stay.
- Peter.|- Lizzie.
People have fallen in love before,|you know.
Is that what we're doing here?
- Lucky you didn't get the wrong room.|- I did, your dad's a very quick shag.
- [bottles clink]|- [milkman whistles]
Have you seen it out?
and everything's for the best,
which means it can only get better
of Pierre Maroux.
thought we'd live so long to say that?
[winds up yawn]
[Tarzan-style call]
[clock ticks]
[grunts]
- [umpire] Game, Colt.
Wheaties. He's off to a roaring start.
these two met was the '97 US Open semis,
wants to wipe from memory.
opportunity of Colt's career:
and I don't think he's ever recovered.
by the smallest thing.
morning and something isn't right.
goes wrong.
And a seed of self-doubt is planted.
Lizzie! I love you!
feeling of doubt seems to look back.
all it takes is one point.
can make or break your confidence,
the outcome of the match.
- [grunts]|- [grunts]
- Advantage, Colt.
[cheering]
on Number 2 Court.
Peter Colt is firmly in control.
from a Wimbledon final on Sunday
against America's Jake Hammond.
[crowd all shout]
- [umpire] Quiet, please.
[Peter grunts]
[strains]
passing shot. Match point.
- He's having trouble getting up.
Peter Colt's clearly in pain.
- It's hard to tell.
who's captured the hearts...
Come on, Son.|Pick yourself up, you can do it.
Mr Colt, are you OK?
- It's my back.|- Can you get up?
- I'm not entirely sure.|- One more point, come on.
- He can't actually hear you.|- Oh, yes, he can.
of the Tom Cavendish match.
- He's back on his feet...|- Oh, yes, he can.
how much it's hurting.
- My God, the stress.|- How does he deal with it?
...against an English opponent...
How does who deal with it?
[cheering and whistling]
[cries of encouragement]
[groans]
- [crowd groans]|- [inhales]
[Peter] Oh, my back.
you're one point away from the final.
English guy in the finals, but come on.
[Peter] Remember Australia?
and what did you do? All right.
Colt is the luckiest man in tennis.
- [Peter] This is gonna hurt.|- [grunts]
Game, set and match, Colt.
[umpire] Colt wins three sets to love.
- 6-2, 6-1, 6-3.|- Yes!
I knew he could do it.
Who would've dreamt two weeks ago
that the man time had forgotten...
Rabbit.|Caught it messing with your lettuce.
Good man.
- Peter. Can we do a quickie?|- No, not right now.
[cheering]
How's she doing?
and Lizzie couldn't do anything right.
which Bradbury found very difficult.
Bugger.
It's not as if she can blame you, is it?
I told you I needed to focus,|to be away from you forjust a few days.
But instead you sneak into my room,|you don't even spend the night...
I thought you'd want the extra sleep.
...like I was some chick you picked up.
Well, this chick is going home|to work on her serve.
I am sorry about your match,|but please don't go.
Because you need to screw me|before the finals?
- That's why you think I'm here?|- It's not? Really?
Not even just a little bit?
[laughs] You see? I know you want me|to think we're in love or some bullshit,
but all you fell in love with this week|was winning.
- That is not true.|- Yes, it is.
And you know what? I love winning too.
More than anything. More than anyone.
You don't mean that.
I do. Love means nothing in tennis.|Zero. It only means you lose.
[door slams in background]
She's dropping her arm too soon|after the toss.
Honestly
Can I say
What I mean?
Don't you play with me
Cos I'm
A lady...
Clear your head, forget about her.|Love is shit, just like she said.
He's absolutely right. Just ask my|soon-to-be ex-wife. Ask all my ex-wives.
Thanks for the wisdom.|Shouldn't you be off sucking up to Jake?
[Ron] I did that at breakfast.
You're in the finals, it's time|to move on, same as she would.
- [doctor] Feel that?|- Ow!
I'll take that as a yes.|I'm not making any promises,
but if you keep relatively still,|you should be OK for the finals.
- Yes! We got it. Frito-Lay.|- What?
You are the new spokesperson for|their new chip: "Surprisingly Zesty".
- I've got to get out of here.|- No, you heard the doctor.
Let's get you some room service.
I would kill for another dozen... What|do you call those cucumber sandwiches?
- Cucumber sandwiches.|- You got a name for everything.
the Kuiper Belt comet Armstrong Flynn
after blazing for...
- There's a distance between us
And you take the blame
I know that you try
But at this stage of the game
I've started a new life
There's no turning back...
- Don't you know, can't you see?
I got over
Sometimes I wonder
Where this feeling began
[hysterical screams]
Deep in my heart
Right from the start
Right from the start
Tired and lonely
[engine revs, tyres screech]
I'll move on from this pain
I'm starting again
I'm breaking the chain...
- [dog snarls]|- Yeah, all right, I'm going.
I'm going.
[barks]
[woman moans with pleasure]
Oh, for God's sake, Carl.
[man and woman groan]
- Carl!|- [woman splutters]
- [rustling, chair leg scrapes]|- For God's sake...
Didn't I tell you always to knock|before entering a room?
It's a bit late now.|Come in and have some breakfast.
What do you want? Eggs and soldiers?
- Oh, eggs'll be fine.|- Sit down.
- Morning, Son.|- Where's the Marmite?
[birdsong]
[knocking]
Well, um... I'm out of the tree house.
Yeah, you certainly are.
Your mother and I seem to have found|some common ground at long last.
Really? What's that?
You, Peter.
You're, er, probably aware|that things have been a bit sticky
for the last few...|well, years, actually.
The fact is, in the end, the only thing|we shared was the downstairs toilet,
and she wasn't really keen on that.
I think what I'm trying to say|is that...
we'd forgotten just what an inspiration|you are to both of us.
That's meant to be the other way round,|I know, but...
And how very proud we are of you.
It's been a long time|since we've done this.
Too bloody long.
- [hoarsely] Dad?|- Mm?
- My back.|- Oh, God.
[sighs] Well, it's been|quite a fortnight, hasn't it?
Not just for Peter, for all of us.
I for one will admit,|and that's not a word I like much...
[Peter chuckles]
...but we could all do better|to love and support each other.
Unconditionally, without judgment,|without...
For God's sake, Carl,|stop biting your fingernails...
Augusta!
- You were saying, darling.|- Yes. Sorry.
I just wanted to propose a toast.
To the family. Our family.
- [aside] It's a trick.|- Our family.
[all] Our family.
- Oh, bloody marvellous.|- No, darling, we're bad luck.
If we came and you lost,|I'd never forgive myself.
I don't believe in luck anymore.
Listen,...
win or lose, and I can't see|how I'm possibly gonna win,
tomorrow will be my last|professional tennis match,
and I can't imagine the three of you|not being there, so please.
So what you're saying|is Jake's the safe bet, then?
I'm Chris Moyles.
Peter Colt, what an amazing man.
now I think he could...
BBC London 94.9.
It's here, it's Wimbledon finals day.
but I'm carried away. Come on, Colty!
Good luck, Mr Colt.
Thank you. Thank you very much.
The Four Seasons]
All the best, Mr Colt.
- Thank you.|- [bell]
- Thanks very much.|- [cheering and applause]
[man whoops]
Thank you.
Thank you. Thank you so much.
Thanks.
Thank you. Thank you so much.
An Englishman in a final. Fantastic.
If you can win that cup, sir,|we'd all be so proud.
I'll do my best.
And I don't even like tennis.
[wild cheering]
[driver] Ready, sir?
Yeah, I think I am.
Colt, seen here in his teens,
to be his last competitive match.
Only a matter of days ago,
on the radar of tennis history.
Now he's become the man who...
Not to add to the pressure, Peter,
but you know the entire UK|is cheering you on today.
Yes.
Let's hope I don't disappoint them.
realistic hope two weeks ago that...
Lizzie,|I love you more than life itself,
but I can't turn off|every goddamn TV set in the UK.
I'm going for a walk.
Flight boards in half an hour.
make their way to Gate 9.
this remarkable run to?
against Tom Cavendish in the quarters,
and I played a more focused game...
...passionate game, er,...
to your question...
is, er, well, love.
- Really.|- Love of the game?
Yeah, love of the game, um...
But listen, you may have read about|Lizzie Bradbury and myself being...
involved, so to speak...
...but I'd like to take this opportunity|to set the record straight.
l read the papers this morning,
that Lizzie had let me down in some way.
That's just not the case.
The truth is I let her down.
I will always be truly sorry.
have their boarding passes ready
as boarding will commence...
pouring my heart out on television.
Or pouring my heart out at all.
Lizzie, sweetheart, there's something|I think you ought to see.
- [Peter] ...forgive me.
is the reason that I'm here today.
so thank you.
[Carillo] Thank you, Peter.
[aeroplane taking off]
[exhales]
I, um, have a new theory|of our life of tennis.
- Tell me.|- Well, it's simple, really.
You, um, hit the ball back over the net,
as hard, and as deep,...
- [door handle clicks]|- ...and as often as possible.
Sorry to disturb you, Peter.
The Members have invited you|to use the number one dressing room.
Oh, no, thank you, Danny.
- I think I'd rather stay here.|- Right.
That's what I told 'em you'd say.
[door closes]
Good luck, my friend.
[door closes]
Very soon, Colt and Hammond
under Centre Court.
is the highlight of a player's career.
Except for the butterflies, absolutely.
He can't just wear the hat.
We don't have an endorsement deal,|that's why.
- He knows the number.|- [cheering]
[Danny] Peter.
[exhales]
I tried to warn you about her.
By the way, how's the weak back?
It's fine. Thanks.
- How's the weak mind?|- [Danny] Gentlemen...
[huge roar]
Fuck a duck.
He's lost only one set this tournament.
And he's had to beat Hewitt, Federer.
of Dragomir and Tom Cavendish,
has been a relative pushover.
[McEnroe] He's played great tennis,
more than a little overmatched today.
First set. Hammond to serve.
[cheering]
- [man] Come on, Peter.|- [Dieter whistles]
I gotta go.
[crowd chants] Peter! Peter!
- [umpire] Quiet, please.
[umpire] Ready?
- [umpire] Play.
[crowd falls silent]
[Hammond grunts]
- [umpire] 15-love.
[man] Come on, Colt.
- Yes, thanks, I'll be needing that.|- [crowd laughs]
"Thanks, I'll be needing that."
- [man] Come on, Colt.|- [man] Come on, Jake.
- Quiet, please.|- [girl] Come on, Jake.
- [grunts]|- [Peter strains]
[umpire] 30-love.
[crowd members shout encouragement]
- [Hammond grunts]|- [boy cries out]
[crowd gasps]
was on the receiving end
in professional tennis. 144mph.
OK. That reminds me how lucky I was,
when they used wood rackets
and things were a lot slower.
[crowd members shout]
It's one thing to humiliate me,
the boy. Now you're going down.
Oooh.
[Peter] Or maybe not.
[umpire] Colt to serve.
Love-15... Love-40...
Game and first set, Hammond.
Game, Hammond. New balls, please...
- [Peter grunts]
Hammond leads five games to two.
Love-30...
- [umpire] 15-40.
once again at break point.
[thunder]
another break
He seems lost out there, John.
[McEnroe] Lost and confused.
near total collapse of a player's game.
you have to wonder
Peter Colt's mind?
[Peter] Please, God. Please make it end.
[Peter grunts]
- [umpire] Game, Hammond.
Play is suspended.
What are you doing, lad? Get in here.
It ain't over till the handshake, lad.
I'm not really in the mood|for a pep talk.
Well, you'd better get ready for one.
Hi.
I thought you'd gone.
Yeah, me too.
Having a tough day?
Well, you know, disastrous.
Except for the fact that you didn't go|gooey when the ball boy got hit.
Yeah.
Sorry.
Why are you British|apologising all the time?
Don't apologise to me, I love you.
- Apologise to the people out there...|- What did you say?
- I said the whole country...|- No, the other bit.
I said I love you.
See that's very good news. I thought|I was alone in the love department.
Well, it turns out you've got company.
- I'm so sorry.|- If you say sorry one more time,
- you're gonna be sorry.|- About the other night.
Stop it. Forget about that.|This is about you.
Go out there and decide who you are.
- Who might that be?|- That might be a winner.
Please be patient, Mr Hammond.|Please sit down.
Did he flee the building with the rain?
- I think he's in the lavatory.|- Isn't that a comfort break?
- Yes, they are allowed one.|- If he's got a gippy tummy...
So if he doesn't come back...
He's gonna lose.
Of course I want to win, I do.
- But he's just better than me.|- No, he's not.
- My back's killing me.|- You play through the pain.
- My legs are like lead.|- Find a second wind.
- His serve is unstoppable.|- It's not. It's a bundle of tells.
- What?|- His serve.
It's like a book,|you just have to know how to read it.
I don't care who wins,|I represent both players.
It's like asking which one of my kids|I love more.
- Which one do I love more?|- [wild cheering]
My daughter. I'll talk to you later.
Let's hope he's better.
So far, he's been a blowout.
Yeah, Pete... Peter!
as play resumes
and one game to love.
Hammond to serve. Play.
[cheering intensifies]
[girl] Come on, Pete!
- [man] Come on, Pete!|- [man] Go for it, Peter!
not twice, he's going for the body.
and shows you his toe,
it means he's hitting deep.
[grunts]
on that one.
to climb out of the hole he's in.
Ouch. You all right.
- Welcome back.|- Same to you, sir.
Station ident ready to roll.
Eight. Top of your shot.|We got a visitor.
John, did you see who just came in?
an immediate adrenaline burst.
- [McEnroe] He did it, Chrissie.
He pulled up his set.
Oh!
Yes!
[crowd gasps]
Colt's game has levelled
at five-all in this tie-break.
wants to keep his comeback alive.
Here we go.
[anguished cries]
[umpire] 6-5, Hammond.
in the tie-breaker
a Championship point.
of Peter Colt's pro career.
Right here, right now.
- [McEnroe] This could be it, Chrissie.
he's going right. Or is it the toss?
Oh, sod it.
[gasping]
[gasping]
[gasping]
- [umpire] 6-6.
a complete one-eighty on Peter Colt.
from the journeyman player.
about getting to the airport.
to a fifth set, and if I was Hammond,
I'd want to close it out right now.
with the momentum going the other way.
OK, first one to win by two.
[crowd chants] Pete! Pete! Pete!
quiet, please.
[murmuring]
- [umpire] 7-6, Colt.
Now Hammond's the one getting tight.
to force a fifth and deciding set.
[clapping dies down]
- [mobile phone]|- [crowd groans]
- Oh, give us a goddamn break.|- [ringing continues]
all mobile phones. Thank you.
[man] Come on, Peter.
- Yeah?|- [man] Come on, Peter.
[Peter grunts]
[gasping]
[groaning]
[wild cheering]
We're gonna play five!
[journalist speaks in Spanish]
After a disastrous start,|Peter Colt has battled back...
[all talk]
[umpire] Game, Colt.
[chatter]
[journalist talks in foreign language]
san.
[strains]
[Peter grunts]
five games to four. Final set.
[Chris Evert] Colt has broken Hammond,
for the Wimbledon title.
found anyone to give him a ride home.
got a chance to serve out the match.
[crowd shouts encouragement]
- [umpire] Time.
[cheering, applause]
Break you right back, asshole.
gamesmanship from Hammond.
Come on, Peter.
- [girl] You can do it, Pete!|- [man] Come on, Peter.
[shouting stops]
- [umpire] 15-love.
Come on!
points away from winning Wimbledon.
[cheering, whooping]
just another point. Just another point.
you could win Wimbledon,
have to take the projob.
You could buy a new place, redecorate.
Although God knows what tastes she has.
Oh, shut up, you silly ponce.
[umpire] 30-love.
Make that two points away, Chrissie.
[ecstatic screams]
[man] Come on, Peter!
Ladies and gentlemen, quiet, please.
[Peter] Oh, my God. Oh, my God.
Oh, my God.
Come on, Pete.
- [umpire] 30-15.
[man] You got him, Jake!
in the past choking on big points.
be surprised if Colt got real tight.
- Thank you.|- It's my fault.
[woman] Come on, Pete!
[crowd members shout]
Don't choke. Don't choke.
Please don't choke. Please don't choke.
I'm not gonna choke, dammit.
- [umpire] 40-15.
Peter!
is serving a Championship point.
- [umpire] Quiet, please.|- [crowd continue to talk]
Ladies and gentlemen, quiet please.
[Peter] Championship point.
Right, then.
- [wild cheering]|- Out.
That was a terrible call.
- What the hell?|- What?
the ball was definitely in.
- It was on the line!|- It was on the line!
- I'd be torching the stadium about now.|- [booing]
Excuse me. The ball was good.
- [umpire] 40-30.|- Oh, come on.
Chalk flew up, the whole stadium saw.|It was quite an important point.
That's too close for me to overrule.
- Please resume play.|- Absolutely not. It's total bollocks.
- [umpire] Code violation.
Warning, Mr Colt.
[crowd chant] ln! ln! ln! ln!
a second chance to win the Championship.
[McEnroe] The question is, can he do it?
players, including yours truly,
getting back in the mindset.
Ladies and gentlemen, quiet, please.
- [Evert] That wasn't even close.
[McEnroe] And it wasn't fast either.
a truly great player.
of a player's game..."
[Peter] Stop it. You have to stop it.
Now.
[shouting fades out]
[heartbeat]
[takes deep breaths]
[gasping]
[gasping]
[ecstatic cheers]
The journeyman has won.
ranked 119th in the world,
now champion of Wimbledon.
[roaring]
Call Letterman, call Leno,|call Oprah, call Kimmel...
[McEnroe] It's pandemonium here.
life. The Brits finally have a winner.
- What's wrong with you? Bet on Jake?|- I put it all on you, bro!
- Can I retire now, Mum?|- Certainly not!
- Well done, Son.|- I love you.
for somebody else.
who he's looking for.
There's so much I want to say to you.
- I'm not going anywhere.|- Oh, yes, you are.
You're going a long, long way.
match that moment.
It's everything you wait a lifetime for.
That dream finally come true.
- What else could ever come close?
Except this, maybe.
young kids like my own, not old ladies.
- And I love it.|- I beat you!
Rubbish, the ball was in, it was... Ow!
[Peter] Well, most of the time.
be over if I wasn't playing tennis.
it was really just beginning.
the US Open. And Wimbledon.
Twice.
But I feel good
But I feel high
But I feel good
But I feel high
But I feel good
But I feel high
But I feel good
But I feel high
Yes, y'all
Yes, y'all
Deeper down
Yes, y'all
Deeper down
Yes, y'all
Deeper down
Tryin' to get home, find a phone
Trying to hit a Saturday nighter
Yeah, I was just followin' the Friday
I found a driver, here's a fiver
Excuse me, is this the venue?
Yeah, I was just followin' the Friday
I was just going with the... uh
But I feel good
But I feel high
But I feel good
But I feel high
But I feel good
But I feel high
But I feel good
But I feel high
Yes, y'all
Deeper down
Yes, y'all
Deeper down
Yes, y'all
Deeper down
Yes, y'all
Deeper down
Tryin' to get home, find a phone
Trying to hit a Saturday nighter
Yeah, I was just followin' the Friday
I found a driver, here's a fiver
Excuse me, is this the venue?
Yeah, I was just followin' the Friday
I was just going with the... uh
But I feel good
But I feel high
But I feel good
But I feel high
But I feel good
But I feel high
But I feel good
But I feel high
Excuse me, is this the venue?
But I feel good
But I feel high
But I feel good
But I feel high
But I feel good
But I feel high
But I feel good
But I feel high
[thwacking continues]
with a dream, don't we?
it's being in the final of a Grand Slam,
Game, set and match.
- You're a champion. You're number one.|- [cheering]
that's all it ever is: a dream.
My story.
No, not that kid in white,
the other tired good-looking fella.
Yeah, him. Well, that's me.
British Davis Cup, long time ago.
Two singles titles, even longer ago.
Presently ranked 119th in the world.
- Sport is cruel.
I know it doesn't sound too bad:
and I'm 119th,
but what that really means is this:
better and younger,...
and it gets you thinking.
[Peter's mother] He's 32 in September.
How long can Peter Colt keep playing?
[Peter] Stop it. Just serve.
where do they get the energy, the focus?
No fear.
The one thing you can't have is fear,
I'm afraid.
I'm not even afraid of the kid.
if that ball keeps going by me.
What happens then?
I hope you don't mind, but I took|the liberty of having it engraved.
- Wow.|- [chuckles] Exactly.
- My biggest problem is parking.|- Right.
Not for you, of course.|No, your own space. Name plate again.
Good.
Hello, Ian. Is this the young man|you told us about?
Peter Colt. The one and only.
- Once ranked 15th in the world, I hear.|- 11th, actually, for most of '96.
Yes, Peter's got himself a wild card|at Wimbledon.
We're hoping he'll hang his racket|here at the club.
We'll see.
We shall look forward to giving you|a peek at our ground strokes.
Do shut up.|Good luck at the Championships.
- Thank you very much.|- [clears throat] Yes. Carry on.
Er, Peter, Peter. Watch the ladies,|occupational hazard.
- Of course.|- Look at this, look at this.
Completely new hybrid.|Yes, developed by the Yanks.
Firm but springy.
Look, Peter... I can't wait forever.
- There's no-one I'd rather...|- Ian.
Look no further.|You have your tennis director.
That is splendid. So splendid.
- [birdsong]|- [church bells in distance]
Oh, look.|That's Peter Colt, the new pro.
Once ranked 17th in the world.
different from another?
Many people have those.
Some say it's a supportive family.
Really hungry.
I've never been hungry.
- And as for the supportive family...
Mum? Dad?
Anybody home?
[woman groans]
[panting]
[man and woman groan]
- [woman groans on TV]|- Hello, Carl.
Life still giving you trouble, is it?
Deep Throat,|director's cut. Absolute classic.
- Hey!|- [man and woman argue]
[Carl] They've been at it like that|like cats and dogs for weeks.
- You all right, Dad?|- [dismissively] Yes, yes.
Have you got|our Wimbledon tickets sorted?
Don't want to miss your grand finale.
I've never won a match at Wimbledon|with my family in attendance.
- We're not invited?|- Nope.
- She's not going to like that.|- What won't I like? Hello, darling.
- You're looking rather gaunt.|- Thank you. Why's Dad so upset?
Ridiculous man. He believes|I'm having an affair with Eliot Larkin.
Mother, he saw you snogging|in the club car park.
- That would do it.|- Not in the kitchen.
I wanted your father to see us,|that was the point.
Shake him out of his stupor.|Compel him to act.
I hear you plan to retire,|to baby-sit a bunch of old ladies.
Not what your father and I had in mind|all those years ago, cheering you on.
Do you know why? Because I believe you|to be a truly great tennis player.
You've always been afraid to admit it.
- I'm not afraid, I'm old.|- Don't be absurd, 31 is not old.
In tennis years,|I might as well be your age.
- Thank you, dear.|- I'm tired of hotels, airports,
long-distance love affairs and...
- Losing?|- Yeah, losing. Thanks, Carl.
- Now tell her about the tickets.|- [excitedly] Tickets?
Oh, God, you really are a wanker,|aren't you?
Harsh but fair.
[Augusta] Why doesn't he get us|tickets?! Do you know why?
Does he think we're going to sit here|watching it on television?
Dad, what are you doing up there?
Should've moved up here years ago.
- I'm off up to Wimbledon, then.|- Righto.
- Peter?|- Yeah?
Remember I always told you|that tennis was a gentleman's game?
[Peter] Yeah.
Total bollocks.
Everything I ever told you.|Total bollocks.
Right, then.
- Welcome to the Dorchester.|- Thank you.
- Your suite is top floor. Superb view.|- Really? You might have made a...
Thank you.
- [telephone rings]|- [man] I'll just show you where...
Wow.
[water starts running]
Well, they weren't wrong about the view.
- You need something?|- Yeah, I... I'm so sorry.
I was given the key to room 1221.
This is room 1221. My 1221.
Oh, right, your 1221.|Well, that makes perfect sense.
- What makes perfect sense?|- I'd reserved a more modest room,
and now I'll go down to the front desk|and thank them for this dreadful error.
- Goodbye, then.|- Yes, goodbye.
And may I say good body... Luck!
Shit. I meant...
Shit.
- Lovely kitchen.|-This way.
See, now that's much cosier.
about my personal life.
- That's why it's "personal".
Right. I just wanna focus on my game.
with my dad on this one,
all that other stuff gets in the way.
with chair umpires.
deliberately disrupt matches.
a little over the top sometimes,
to play my best.
to win Wimbledon.
[interviewer] Good luck.
Gonna knock 'em dead this year, Peter?|I've got a strong feeling.
Thanks, Danny.
- Gonna knock 'em dead, lvan?|- I'll try.
[Danny] I've got a strong feeling.
[woman] See you later.
[Peter] Dieter, you wanna go for dinner?
- Afraid not. I may get lucky tonight.|- Oh, really?
Irish girl. Her dad owns much of Dublin.
Excellent. She have a sister?
Only child.
Tragic. I should work|on my serve anyway.
If this is my last hurrah,|I want to go in style.
That's the spirit, old man.
Bugger.
Oops. Sorry, wrong court.
- Forgotten me already?|- The lady with the lovely... kitchen.
- Lizzie Bradbury, right?|- And you're?
- Peter. Peter Colt.|- Nice to meet you, Peter Peter Colt.
Five quid says you can't do it again.
Ten bucks says|you can't hit two in a row.
You're on.
- Lovely form.|- Thank you.
- You're exceeding my expectations.|- Mine too.
Do it with a slice serve,|I'll treat you to fish and chips.
Ooh, the pressure's on.
Lovely toss.
Fish and chips it is.
- Lizzie, what are you doing?|- Just one more serve, Daddy.
You've got to be in the hotel|for an interview.
Two seconds, OK?
Funny, you don't seem the daddy type.
Hit this one... and I'll sleep with you.
- Ooh!|- I'm so sorry!
Too bad. You could've used the workout.
of the Championships,
on Centre Court
include Andy Roddick, Serena Williams
Tom Cavendish.
include journeyman veteran Peter Colt.
of Lizzie Bradbury.
to her lively reputation?
What are you talking about?|The chalk flew up! There's a mark there!
- The ball was out.|- [man] Get on with it!
I'll let it go, cos you obviously|can't see. I feel sorry for you.
[crowd moans disapprovingly]
- [umpire] Quiet, please.
- [umpire] 40-15.|- [cheering]
[man] All right, Liz!
How are you doing?
- What time's your match?|- Three o'clock. Ajay Bhatt.
- You ever heard of him?|- Yeah, yeah.
- He's sitting over there. Look.|- Oh, my God.
Shouldn't he be off|discovering masturbation?
I played him in Bogot. He's like|all young men, out to kill the father.
Like all young men,|he must first be taught humility.
Exactly. And you taught him that|in Bogot?
Sadly, no. He killed the father.|Straight sets.
Watch out for his backhand.
[gulls cry]
[horse-racing commentary on TV]
[man] Yeah, six-to-four on, apparently.
Twenty pound to win, Ajay Bhatt.
Hold on, isn't he playing your brother?
You should be ashamed of yourself.
Yeah, but curiously, I'm not.
- [announcer] 2-6, 7-5, 6-4.
This is what it looks like.
for 25 years.
Six million balls. And it all ends here.
At two in the afternoon on Court 17,
for the latest Russian teenage beauty.
make it last a little while.
[man] Come on, Pete.
Good luck, Mr Colt.
Thank you.
Bhatt to serve. First set.
Right, then.
[umpire] Play.
- [grunts]|- [grunts]
[polite applause]
Love-15.
[Peter] OK, nice. Not embarrassing.
and you've got it in the bag.
Oi, bloody rabbit, shoo!
[cheering on television]
- [John Barrett] Our first match point.|- [Edward Colt] Come on.
with new-found confidence today.
Colt serves, wide to Bhatt's forehand.
[Edward] Yes, get it. Yes, good shot.
Well done, come on.
- [cheering on TV]
[Edward] He's done it! He's done it!
He's through round one.
Not interested.
What?
- Not interested.|- Oh, suit yourself.
So you think that kid has a future?
Yes, I do. I expect one day to be|the answer to the trivia question
"Who beat Ajay Bhatt|in his first ever Grand Slam?"
- What Wimbledon is this for you?|- My 13th, actually.
And since this may be my last|Wimbledon press conference,
- I'd like to take the opportunity to...|- [reporter] Jake!
- announce my retirement from...|- Jake!
- ...tennis|- [all shout questions]
- [cameras click]|- That's my retirement from tennis.
[all talk at Jake]
Effective the moment|this tournament ends.
[hubbub]
Tomorrow, rear entrance, nine o'clock|sharp. We can avoid all of this.
Excuse me, please. Come on, sweetheart.
Lizzie. Lizzie.
Excuse me. Excuse me.
Excuse me.
[beeps] You have one new message.
[beeps]
You still owe me fish and chips.
Uh, say seven o'clock, room 1221.
- That's my 1221.|- Oh, bollocks!
- [knock]|- [Lizzie] It's open.
in the northern sky.
the comet gained its name
in the South Pacific.
it's appeared,
for the next two weeks.
- Hi.|- Hi.
- Two fish and chips as promised.|- Um...
- What?|- Let me just...
Oh, jeez. How embarrassing.
- Are you hungry?|- Um, not quite.
- I've got a question for you.|- Right.
Where do you come down on the|fooling-around-before-a-match issue?
- That's a very intriguing question.|- Cos I think a little fooling around
can be really good for your game.|You know, help you relax.
Um, I'm not sure I've done enough|research to have a definitive opinion.
- That's very sad.|- Yes, it is, isn't it? It is...
It's very sad.
Don't get me wrong, I'm very interested|in doing the necessary research.
- Are you?|- I'm interested.
Peter...
No-one can know about this, OK?
Really? I had been planning|a brief press statement.
Seriously. Especially my dad.
He says if there's a guy around,|my first serve gets mushy.
You can't win with a mushy serve.
No. So we'll keep it light, OK?
Absolutely fine with me.|We'll just keep it fun and...
[both] Relaxed.
Good.
Peter?
Excellent, more research.
[John Barrett] Another point lost.
on this court,
known as the "Graveyard of Champions".
has been less than inspired.
[Peter] Oh, God, I'm tired. So tired.
Stay up all night doing research?
You're bound to be exhausted.
- [John Barrett] What a pity.
by two sets to one.
Hello, do you mind?
[commentary on TV]
Oh, bugger. And he was doing so well.
Don't write him off yet, Pauline.
Some young men, I find, have a stamina|that's really quite deceptive.
He did win the French Open.
Three games? Three lousy games.
and you got three games?
[umpire] Time.
- [Peter] It's pathetic.|- [man] Come on, Peter!
to see you lose.
Come on, Peter!
[Peter] Oh, great.
[man] Come on, Pete!
[grunts]
- [umpire] Love-15.
top-ten player in two years is at 5-4,
three points from winning the match.
[umpire] 30-love.
- You were with me last match.|- Yes, sir. Brilliant play, sir.
- Could I trouble you?|- Sorry.
[cheers of support]
- 40-love.
And we have our first match point.
[man] Come on, Peter.
- [umpire] Game, set, match, Colt.
has defeated the French Open champion
to advance to the third round.
[umpire] 6-4, 4-6, 2-6, 7-5, 6-4.
- [crowd boo and jeer]|- [Dragomir yells]
Peter, this way, please.
- Thought I'd done my last one of these.|- [man] So did we.
[laughter]
[man] Peter, did you know Dragomir
is the first seeded player|you've defeated in three years?
Yes, two months and 14 days,|but who's counting?
What do you think|of your next opponent?
In all the excitement, I haven't|even checked to see who it is.
[woman] It's your practice partner,|Dieter Prohl.
Two friends now face each other as|enemies. lntriguing existential dilemma.
Room 1221, please. Bradbury.
Is your elbow playing up?
If I admit that,|you may use it to your advantage.
Wow, that's terrible.|Is that what our friendship's come to?
Dodgy shoulder, maybe? Have you?
Most everything aches.|What doesn't, I can't feel at all.
Hello? Hello?!
We should still practise|and stick to the routine.
The hotel offered me a better room|and I told them "I'm on a roll."
At such moments,|superstition's all we have.
Even when I'm taking a shit,|I must do it exactly the same.
I'd never thought of that,|that's genius.
Think of everything important,|do it the same. Wait a minute.
That's OK, put me through.
Lizzie, don't say a word. I was thinking|a repeat of the other night,
like fish and chips, early to bed...
Mr Bradbury, hello.
Mr Bradbury?
Damn.
- Yeah?|- Yeah.
[groans from crowd]
[woman speaks ltalian]
Peter.
Come sta?
You are the Dragomir slayer.
How are you? You look a million lire.
Thank you. I try.|Do you know my partner, Sophia?
- No. Hi.|- Nice to meet you.
- So?|- I'm looking for Lizzie Bradbury.
- Have you seen her?|- No. You should ask Jake Hammond.
- Oh, really? Why?|- Why do you think?
Oh, right.
Ciao.
- Good luck tomorrow.|- Thank you.
- Looking for someone?|- Yeah... Yeah, yes.
It wouldn't happen to be my daughter?
Yes, it would.
- It's Colt, right?|- Yes, but please call me Peter.
Lizzie's on a roll now and I don't|want her to have any distractions.
Right. Of course.
Sorry, just to clarify,|do you see me as a distraction?
That's exactly how I see you.
So stop looking for her,|stop calling her,
stop coming around, stop every damn|thing that involves my daughter.
Is that clear?
[crack of thunder]
[groans from crowd]
[Dieter] In a few thousand years, the|English will have evolved webbed feet.
Yes, about the same time the first|German evolves a sense of humour.
No, no, no, that's not fair.|Many times I make you laugh.
No, I'm laughing at you, not with you.
Somebody wants you.
- I think I'll...|- I think you will too.
- Now, that was quite funny.|- Yeah, I know.
Hey, get some rest tonight.|I don't want to win too easily.
What with you and that,|what is it, bad knee?
- I have a little confession to make.|- Oh, God.
When you walked into my room|the other day,
I knew exactly who you were.
- You did?|- Mm-hm.
I saw you play Tommy Haas|at the Lipton last year.
- Oh, shit.|- [giggles] Yeah.
You were ahead|but you totally fell apart.
Yeah, as I recall a ball girl|couldn't get out of the way of my serve.
You gallantly carried her off the court.
I thought you were such a...
asshole, to lose like that|when you were playing so beautifully.
But I couldn't get it out of my head.
I kept hoping I'd run into you, until|finally you walked into my hotel room.
Like a knight in shining armour,|perhaps?
- [chuckles]|- No.
Trouble is I'm the one|that needs saving.
Yesterday, I was losing...
and then I saw you watching.
This Year's Love]
[giggles] What?
Perhaps my first serve's|getting a little mushy.
This year's love, it better last
Heaven knows it's high time
I've been waiting
On my own too long
And when you hold me like you do
- It feels so right...|- Oh. Hey, look.
There it is, the comet.|See, with the little tail behind it?
- Hardly anything, is it?|- Barely moving.
We have to wish on it.
Did you wish on your next match?
Wouldn't work if I told you.
[giggles] Who are you playing?
- Good friend of mine, Dieter Prohl.|- A friend?
Then you should know how to beat him.|What are his weaknesses?
Um, sausages, Wagner,|men in leather shorts.
In his game? That's why I gave up|having friends in tennis.
You have to dig deep|to kill your friends.
- I have to kill him?|- Without thinking twice.
- I don't envy you.|- Why?
together, practically live together.
friend in the third round of Wimbledon?
Because that is killing him.
It's a bullet to the heart.
There's a winner and a loser.
one of you is going to be a loser.
[Peter grunts]
[horn]
[gasps]
Bloody pedals!
[horse-racing commentary on TV]
All right, Vij?
Where the hell are the men's matches?
Roddick lost to Jake Hammond, four sets.
Shit. What about Peter and Prohl?
- You didn't hear?|- No.
Straight sets, man. Peter decimated him.
- Shit.|- You bet against him again?
Yeah. He usually comes through.|He's been on such a good losing streak.
- Here, are you Peter Colt's brother?|- Possibly.
I've seen you in here,|watching the matches.
Yeah.
You could say tennis is my life.
- My passion's chat rooms.|- Really?
- Broadband.|- Of course.
[interviewer in adjacent room]
You may have humiliated the Kraut,|but you are not done with him.
We change your routine not one iota.
[Dieter]|I'm still your practice partner.
Thanks, mate.
Anyway, you know it was|a hell of a lot closer than the score.
A net cord or two|it would've been different.
Bullshit. You annihilated me. You...
You hit from the soul, the heart.
Something's happened to you.|Something else, something...
The girl in the taxi.|The end of the waving hand.
That's where the fire comes from,|admit it.
Dieter, listen...
do you think that in the middle|of a championship,
and the first time in years,|I'm actually winning,
I'd be dumb enough|to get involved with a woman?
Absolutely.
[beep]
You have eight new messages.
Well, aren't I popular?
[beep]
Well done!
before you start with us.
the ladies send their regards.
[laughs lasciviously]
[machine beeps]
[Lizzie] You were incredible today.
I'll call you later.
[machine beeps] Peter, remember me?
- [machine] It's your mother. I hear...
What did I always say about you?
I don't know. Remind me, Ron.
So cucumber, and cucumber. They forgot|to put the sandwich in my sandwich.
What you doing here?|You're not still my agent.
- What are you talking about?|- What am I talking about?
I called you a year ago and I'm still|waiting for you to call back.
Yeah, I'm into e-mails now.|I don't do the phone thing.
Ron...
that's a lie.
Yeah, it's a lie.|You want me to be honest?
Agents are not miracle workers.|We can't sell products that don't exist.
But you exist again,|so I'm back selling again.
You know, I genuinely despise you.
And you know what?|I really don't take it personally.
This could all be over by Monday.|Cavendish is a serve-and-volley guy,
you always play shit against him,|so let's capitalise now.
I don't want you to be the English guy|who beat his friend the German guy,
only to lose to the other English guy.
I want to make you some money.|Got a problem with that?
You have to cut your commission.
OK, that's a no-go area.|Everybody pays ten per cent.
Say five per cent,|or my next offer's four.
You know,|success has really changed you.
And I'm loving it. You got a deal.
Besides, I have a feeling|Cavendish is going down. Tea?
- I'd love some.|- Let's talk business.
Slazenger's having|a cocktail party tonight
and everybody's dying to meet you|for the very first time. All over again.
[music, chatter]
[fans clamour]
[cameras click]
- I'll call you.|- I'll ring you tomorrow.
Fine. Lizzie.
Ronnie. How're they hanging?
- Fine. And yours?|- Fine. Who's your new friend?
- You haven't met?|- I'm Lizzie.
- Peter. Peter Colt.|- The Peter Peter Colt?
- I've heard a lot about you.|- Nothing good, I hope.
That you're not afraid|to come to the net.
- I hear you're going to go all the way.|- Every chance I get.
If this works out, do I get the...
You can have ten per cent of our kids.
- You all right? You look beautiful.|- Thank you.
- You come along and play matchmaker?|- I'm sorry. I got excited by the math.
Let's talk over this Nike thing. She'll|be home before she turns into a pumpkin.
One day...
none of this will be ours.
Oh, no. Asshole incoming, four o'clock.
Lizzie, what's the deal? I've left you|like half a dozen messages.
Really? How about that.
- Hi.|- Do you know Peter Colt?
- We met...|- First round, San Jose last year.
Exactly. A memorable match.
Yeah. Which I, like, won.
Peter's in the quarters. Did you hear?
Wait a second... Are you screwing him?
- You know what...|- You are, aren't you?
- I don't believe this.|- Listen...
Whoa, what are you, Grandpa,|ranked like 120?
I thought they were all just rumours,|but you are a cheap little...
- Jesus, that really hurt.|- But you did it so well.
- [Jake] I'm fine!|- Night, Jake.
- Yes, don't get up.|- [Jake] Leave me alone. I'm fine!
That's the first time|I've ever hit anybody in my life.
[reporters and fans scream]
Lizzie? Lizzie!
- [yelps]|- Other side.
[photographers shout]
[tyres screech]
I've never had anyone|fight for my honour before.
I kinda like it.
- [Lizzie whoops]|- [horn]
- [Peter] You're not safe to be with.|- [Lizzie] Wait till you see me drive.
[gulls cry]
So, these are the wild streets|of my youth:
the drugs, the sex, the milkshakes.
My parents live here|and I still keep a flat.
- So we can stay there tonight?|- Yeah, but what about your dad?
Ah, let him find his own place.
- Who's next?|- Coffees for table five.
- Parents are such a responsibility.|- Worse than children.
Definitely.
My parents got divorced when I was 13.
My mom was always on the road|trying to be a singer.
- What went wrong.|- She couldn't sing.
- So mainly my dad brought me up.|- Mine are still together.
Which proves that love's not just blind,|it's bloody stupid.
Sad. Everything they loved in each other|now seems to drive them crazy.
I can't imagine ever wanting|to get married.
No. No. I mean that's|why we love the tour, isn't it?
There's always another country,|another airport...
- Another girl.|- That's right, Lesley.
- Lizzie. I meant Lizzie.|- You said Lesley. Who's Lesley?
[gull cries]
As you can see, we've had to fire|builders due to creative differences.
And truthfully, Peter's had|a bit of a liquidity problem.
- Oh, my nan liked a drink. Sherry.|- Right.
- Piccy?|- Just a bitty.
- Carl, what are you doing?|- Ah, Pete, hi.
Wasn't expecting you.|Shit, that's Lizzie Bradbury.
- Can I take a picture?|- No, you can't.
- Digital.|- Look what I found. Oh, hello.
- Give me that!|- Oh, I only got four pizzas.
Oh, for God's sake... Right, get out.
- You too, sunshine.|- Bugger, I had it on landscape.
- It's not funny.|- I'm sorry.
[Carl] Change of venue, girls.|Your mum's or mine?
- Big fan.|- Go on, leave.
- I am so sorry.|- Might want to change the sheets.
[gulls cry]
- [voicemail beeps]|- Hi, Daddy, it's me.
I know you're probably going nuts|and wanna kill me,
but everything's cool, really.
Um... It's hard to explain.
I really needed to do this.
I gotta go, I'll see you at practice|in the morning.
- Everything all right?|- Everything's great.
- Wanna go and have a workout?|- Thought we just had one.
[Peter] Now are you sure about this?|I usually do ten miles.
- Why are you running behind me?|- Just enjoying the view.
Cozing it
Yeah
I'm takin'it step by step
Boy, here and now
We're caught in a moment
I won't let it go
It belongs to you and I...
Hey, look at that.
This is where my dad|taught me to play tennis.
[Lizzie] Look at it now. It's a shame.
Yeah. [sighs]
[grunts] Ace!
[giggles] Come on, make a little effort.
Ace!
What's the matter with you?|Are you scared of a girl?
There's something I haven't told you.
What?
This is my last tournament.
No matter what happens.
But you're doing so great.
Hey, you just have to...
- Keep winning.|- Right.
So keep winning.
[English accent] Finally, Colt returns|with a cross-court forehand.
[both grunt]
Ah! Colt makes a smashing return.
With unlady-like effort,|Bradbury strains to get to the ball.
[Lizzie]|Ooh, it's an extremely high lob.
Will he maintain|his gentlemanly composure or will he,
dare I say, win the point?
Hold on, what's happened to the ball?
Look.
Gotta go, bye.
- 100 on Cavendish in the quarters.|- Hold your horses.
So, still betting against your brother?
It's tactical. If he loses, I get rich,|if he wins, I get laid.
- Where did you get 100 anyway?|- [clicks] Photo journalism.
in a challenging battle of designs.
Look, Lyndsey, a green grasshopper.
[West Country accent] I trust you slept|well after your night of debauchery.
[Southern US accent]|I declare I surely did.
So did I.
God, no wonder the English|never win Wimbledon.
in the finals, but come on.
is the luckiest man in tennis.
Wanker.
[reporters all shout]
God, it's incredible how much|that actor looks like your dad.
- Oh, shit.|- Incredible how much that building...
[both] Shit!
- [TV] The Sun newspaper...|- [Peter] Hide!
-...published this photo of Colt...|- Carl, you bastard!
- [knock on door]|- [exhales]
- Oh, hello, Mr Bradbury.|- Where's my daughter?
Gone, sadly, and sadly, gone.
She had to work on that first serve.
- I expect she's at the practice...|- Bullshitting me?
Absolutely not. I wouldn't dream of it.
So how was your trip down? The traffic|can be murder getting out of London.
- We left early.|- The early bird does catch the...
Would you like a cup of, er, tea?
Maybe something stronger?|A shot of whisky?
A shot at me, perhaps?
- It's Peter, right?|- Yeah.
Look, Peter, I got nothing against you,|you seem like a nice guy.
Oh, good.
I'm not an idiot, I know that Lizzie|likes to have her fun,
and it keeps her relaxed,|and if you were just another easy...
You know, that would be one thing.|But you're not.
- Actually, I was incredibly easy.|- No.
This time it's different. She's...
- falling for you.|- Oh, I see.
- Which is a total disaster.|- Why? She's hardly lost a serve.
Her footwork is off,|her serve is a mess,
she's gotta get her head back in the|game, remember what it is she wants.
- What do you think that is?|- What we've worked towards for years.
What she's always wanted|more than anything.
- I still want it.|- Oh, hi.
I want to win Wimbledon.
- I'm sorry.|- That's all right, sweetheart.
We'd better get going,|we got a lot of work to do.
- You're gonna go?|- Mm-hm. He's right.
- Sorry.|- Wait a second.
[door closes]
[Peter] Lizzie! Lizzie!
This is ridiculous. You're a grown woman|and should make your own decisions.
This is my decision.|We can be together afterwards.
What does that mean? You can't switch me|on and off like a light bulb.
- I'll call at the hotel.|- She won't be there.
- What?|- I'm sorry, kid,
but if you're together, she can't play.
[shouting]
It's an all-British affair,
of the crowd and the match.
He's up a break in the first set,
of a nation upon him,
- [umpire] Quiet, please.
[shouting dies down]
[crowd members begin to cheer]
[grunts]
[umpire] Touch. 40-love.
That's set point for Tom Cavendish.
Candy, they're only knocking the wall|down from the window to the patio door.
- Talk to Sergei.|- She hits short, you come in.
- Stop bugging me.|- She'll never pass...
I'm focused. I know the game plan.
Yeah, right.
- [music on headphones]|- He's out of my head now. It's over.
Stop freaking out on me.
Yeah, it was definitely his ankle.
This is ugly.
- [yells in pain]|- [crowd] Cavendish!
a free pass to the semis.
Think you can go on?
[crowd chants] Tom! Tom! Tom! Tom!
[John McEnroe] Not so fast, Chrissie.
They worship the kid here.
take advantage of Cavendish?
much of a killer instinct.
[umpire] Quiet, please.
- [Chris Evert] There's your answer.
Watch out, Tom Cavendish.
Can we take another route?|Her match is at three.
I doubt it. It's chocker.
[radio] Three match points.
in these championships.
- What's the score, sweetheart?|- Match point.
- [umpire] Game, set...
[McEnroe] Colt has done it again.
another seeded player goes down,
Pierre Maroux in the semis on Friday.
- Congratulations, my friend.|- Thanks, but my countrymen hate me.
I just destroyed|their best hopes of winning.
- Everyone loves a winner.|- Everyone but the British.
[girls shout] Peter! Peter!
- [girl] Sign this, please?|- Thank you.
- See, I was right. Everybody loves you.|- Almost everybody.
[man] Go on, Liz. Oh, well played.
[umpire] 30-all.
What do you think makes her|so extraordinary?
No embarrassment, no fear.|She makes a decision, she goes for it.
It's a turn-on for the rest of us, cos|generally, we're all scared shitless.
- Even you?|- Me? I hate making decisions.
Like right now, I'm very, very afraid.
If you don't see that girl again,|it'll screw up your confidence.
On the other hand, I'm petrified that|if I tell you where she's camped out,
- her father will fire my ass.|- Where's the girl camped out?
- [player grunts]|- I made a decision.
leads four games to one, final set.
Me too.
[strains]
[dog snarls]
Oh, shh. No, no. Hi.
[growls]
It's not what you think, so don't...
[barks]
I'll jump. I'll jump.
I will. You want that|on your conscience?
Thank you.
[whispers] Lizzie? Lizzie?
Lizzie, it's me.
- [dog barks]|- Shit!
- [groans]|- [dog continues to bark]
Hey!
- Shut up!|- [ barking stops]
Noisy little shit.
Ow!
That hurt.
- Shit!|- [gasps]
- Bugger.|- Peter!
- Yeah.|- What are you doing here?
That's an excellent question.
The sad fact of the matter is I can't|get through 24 hours without you.
I've missed you, Peter Peter Colt.
You have?
- But I need you to go.|- No, You need me to stay.
- Peter.|- Lizzie.
People have fallen in love before,|you know.
Is that what we're doing here?
- Lucky you didn't get the wrong room.|- I did, your dad's a very quick shag.
- [bottles clink]|- [milkman whistles]
Have you seen it out?
and everything's for the best,
which means it can only get better
of Pierre Maroux.
thought we'd live so long to say that?
[winds up yawn]
[Tarzan-style call]
[clock ticks]
[grunts]
- [umpire] Game, Colt.
Wheaties. He's off to a roaring start.
these two met was the '97 US Open semis,
wants to wipe from memory.
opportunity of Colt's career:
and I don't think he's ever recovered.
by the smallest thing.
morning and something isn't right.
goes wrong.
And a seed of self-doubt is planted.
Lizzie! I love you!
feeling of doubt seems to look back.
all it takes is one point.
can make or break your confidence,
the outcome of the match.
- [grunts]|- [grunts]
- Advantage, Colt.
[cheering]
on Number 2 Court.
Peter Colt is firmly in control.
from a Wimbledon final on Sunday
against America's Jake Hammond.
[crowd all shout]
- [umpire] Quiet, please.
[Peter grunts]
[strains]
passing shot. Match point.
- He's having trouble getting up.
Peter Colt's clearly in pain.
- It's hard to tell.
who's captured the hearts...
Come on, Son.|Pick yourself up, you can do it.
Mr Colt, are you OK?
- It's my back.|- Can you get up?
- I'm not entirely sure.|- One more point, come on.
- He can't actually hear you.|- Oh, yes, he can.
of the Tom Cavendish match.
- He's back on his feet...|- Oh, yes, he can.
how much it's hurting.
- My God, the stress.|- How does he deal with it?
...against an English opponent...
How does who deal with it?
[cheering and whistling]
[cries of encouragement]
[groans]
- [crowd groans]|- [inhales]
[Peter] Oh, my back.
you're one point away from the final.
English guy in the finals, but come on.
[Peter] Remember Australia?
and what did you do? All right.
Colt is the luckiest man in tennis.
- [Peter] This is gonna hurt.|- [grunts]
Game, set and match, Colt.
[umpire] Colt wins three sets to love.
- 6-2, 6-1, 6-3.|- Yes!
I knew he could do it.
Who would've dreamt two weeks ago
that the man time had forgotten...
Rabbit.|Caught it messing with your lettuce.
Good man.
- Peter. Can we do a quickie?|- No, not right now.
[cheering]
How's she doing?
and Lizzie couldn't do anything right.
which Bradbury found very difficult.
Bugger.
It's not as if she can blame you, is it?
I told you I needed to focus,|to be away from you forjust a few days.
But instead you sneak into my room,|you don't even spend the night...
I thought you'd want the extra sleep.
...like I was some chick you picked up.
Well, this chick is going home|to work on her serve.
I am sorry about your match,|but please don't go.
Because you need to screw me|before the finals?
- That's why you think I'm here?|- It's not? Really?
Not even just a little bit?
[laughs] You see? I know you want me|to think we're in love or some bullshit,
but all you fell in love with this week|was winning.
- That is not true.|- Yes, it is.
And you know what? I love winning too.
More than anything. More than anyone.
You don't mean that.
I do. Love means nothing in tennis.|Zero. It only means you lose.
[door slams in background]
She's dropping her arm too soon|after the toss.
Honestly
Can I say
What I mean?
Don't you play with me
Cos I'm
A lady...
Clear your head, forget about her.|Love is shit, just like she said.
He's absolutely right. Just ask my|soon-to-be ex-wife. Ask all my ex-wives.
Thanks for the wisdom.|Shouldn't you be off sucking up to Jake?
[Ron] I did that at breakfast.
You're in the finals, it's time|to move on, same as she would.
- [doctor] Feel that?|- Ow!
I'll take that as a yes.|I'm not making any promises,
but if you keep relatively still,|you should be OK for the finals.
- Yes! We got it. Frito-Lay.|- What?
You are the new spokesperson for|their new chip: "Surprisingly Zesty".
- I've got to get out of here.|- No, you heard the doctor.
Let's get you some room service.
I would kill for another dozen... What|do you call those cucumber sandwiches?
- Cucumber sandwiches.|- You got a name for everything.
the Kuiper Belt comet Armstrong Flynn
after blazing for...
- There's a distance between us
And you take the blame
I know that you try
But at this stage of the game
I've started a new life
There's no turning back...
- Don't you know, can't you see?
I got over
Sometimes I wonder
Where this feeling began
[hysterical screams]
Deep in my heart
Right from the start
Right from the start
Tired and lonely
[engine revs, tyres screech]
I'll move on from this pain
I'm starting again
I'm breaking the chain...
- [dog snarls]|- Yeah, all right, I'm going.
I'm going.
[barks]
[woman moans with pleasure]
Oh, for God's sake, Carl.
[man and woman groan]
- Carl!|- [woman splutters]
- [rustling, chair leg scrapes]|- For God's sake...
Didn't I tell you always to knock|before entering a room?
It's a bit late now.|Come in and have some breakfast.
What do you want? Eggs and soldiers?
- Oh, eggs'll be fine.|- Sit down.
- Morning, Son.|- Where's the Marmite?
[birdsong]
[knocking]
Well, um... I'm out of the tree house.
Yeah, you certainly are.
Your mother and I seem to have found|some common ground at long last.
Really? What's that?
You, Peter.
You're, er, probably aware|that things have been a bit sticky
for the last few...|well, years, actually.
The fact is, in the end, the only thing|we shared was the downstairs toilet,
and she wasn't really keen on that.
I think what I'm trying to say|is that...
we'd forgotten just what an inspiration|you are to both of us.
That's meant to be the other way round,|I know, but...
And how very proud we are of you.
It's been a long time|since we've done this.
Too bloody long.
- [hoarsely] Dad?|- Mm?
- My back.|- Oh, God.
[sighs] Well, it's been|quite a fortnight, hasn't it?
Not just for Peter, for all of us.
I for one will admit,|and that's not a word I like much...
[Peter chuckles]
...but we could all do better|to love and support each other.
Unconditionally, without judgment,|without...
For God's sake, Carl,|stop biting your fingernails...
Augusta!
- You were saying, darling.|- Yes. Sorry.
I just wanted to propose a toast.
To the family. Our family.
- [aside] It's a trick.|- Our family.
[all] Our family.
- Oh, bloody marvellous.|- No, darling, we're bad luck.
If we came and you lost,|I'd never forgive myself.
I don't believe in luck anymore.
Listen,...
win or lose, and I can't see|how I'm possibly gonna win,
tomorrow will be my last|professional tennis match,
and I can't imagine the three of you|not being there, so please.
So what you're saying|is Jake's the safe bet, then?
I'm Chris Moyles.
Peter Colt, what an amazing man.
now I think he could...
BBC London 94.9.
It's here, it's Wimbledon finals day.
but I'm carried away. Come on, Colty!
Good luck, Mr Colt.
Thank you. Thank you very much.
The Four Seasons]
All the best, Mr Colt.
- Thank you.|- [bell]
- Thanks very much.|- [cheering and applause]
[man whoops]
Thank you.
Thank you. Thank you so much.
Thanks.
Thank you. Thank you so much.
An Englishman in a final. Fantastic.
If you can win that cup, sir,|we'd all be so proud.
I'll do my best.
And I don't even like tennis.
[wild cheering]
[driver] Ready, sir?
Yeah, I think I am.
Colt, seen here in his teens,
to be his last competitive match.
Only a matter of days ago,
on the radar of tennis history.
Now he's become the man who...
Not to add to the pressure, Peter,
but you know the entire UK|is cheering you on today.
Yes.
Let's hope I don't disappoint them.
realistic hope two weeks ago that...
Lizzie,|I love you more than life itself,
but I can't turn off|every goddamn TV set in the UK.
I'm going for a walk.
Flight boards in half an hour.
make their way to Gate 9.
this remarkable run to?
against Tom Cavendish in the quarters,
and I played a more focused game...
...passionate game, er,...
to your question...
is, er, well, love.
- Really.|- Love of the game?
Yeah, love of the game, um...
But listen, you may have read about|Lizzie Bradbury and myself being...
involved, so to speak...
...but I'd like to take this opportunity|to set the record straight.
l read the papers this morning,
that Lizzie had let me down in some way.
That's just not the case.
The truth is I let her down.
I will always be truly sorry.
have their boarding passes ready
as boarding will commence...
pouring my heart out on television.
Or pouring my heart out at all.
Lizzie, sweetheart, there's something|I think you ought to see.
- [Peter] ...forgive me.
is the reason that I'm here today.
so thank you.
[Carillo] Thank you, Peter.
[aeroplane taking off]
[exhales]
I, um, have a new theory|of our life of tennis.
- Tell me.|- Well, it's simple, really.
You, um, hit the ball back over the net,
as hard, and as deep,...
- [door handle clicks]|- ...and as often as possible.
Sorry to disturb you, Peter.
The Members have invited you|to use the number one dressing room.
Oh, no, thank you, Danny.
- I think I'd rather stay here.|- Right.
That's what I told 'em you'd say.
[door closes]
Good luck, my friend.
[door closes]
Very soon, Colt and Hammond
under Centre Court.
is the highlight of a player's career.
Except for the butterflies, absolutely.
He can't just wear the hat.
We don't have an endorsement deal,|that's why.
- He knows the number.|- [cheering]
[Danny] Peter.
[exhales]
I tried to warn you about her.
By the way, how's the weak back?
It's fine. Thanks.
- How's the weak mind?|- [Danny] Gentlemen...
[huge roar]
Fuck a duck.
He's lost only one set this tournament.
And he's had to beat Hewitt, Federer.
of Dragomir and Tom Cavendish,
has been a relative pushover.
[McEnroe] He's played great tennis,
more than a little overmatched today.
First set. Hammond to serve.
[cheering]
- [man] Come on, Peter.|- [Dieter whistles]
I gotta go.
[crowd chants] Peter! Peter!
- [umpire] Quiet, please.
[umpire] Ready?
- [umpire] Play.
[crowd falls silent]
[Hammond grunts]
- [umpire] 15-love.
[man] Come on, Colt.
- Yes, thanks, I'll be needing that.|- [crowd laughs]
"Thanks, I'll be needing that."
- [man] Come on, Colt.|- [man] Come on, Jake.
- Quiet, please.|- [girl] Come on, Jake.
- [grunts]|- [Peter strains]
[umpire] 30-love.
[crowd members shout encouragement]
- [Hammond grunts]|- [boy cries out]
[crowd gasps]
was on the receiving end
in professional tennis. 144mph.
OK. That reminds me how lucky I was,
when they used wood rackets
and things were a lot slower.
[crowd members shout]
It's one thing to humiliate me,
the boy. Now you're going down.
Oooh.
[Peter] Or maybe not.
[umpire] Colt to serve.
Love-15... Love-40...
Game and first set, Hammond.
Game, Hammond. New balls, please...
- [Peter grunts]
Hammond leads five games to two.
Love-30...
- [umpire] 15-40.
once again at break point.
[thunder]
another break
He seems lost out there, John.
[McEnroe] Lost and confused.
near total collapse of a player's game.
you have to wonder
Peter Colt's mind?
[Peter] Please, God. Please make it end.
[Peter grunts]
- [umpire] Game, Hammond.
Play is suspended.
What are you doing, lad? Get in here.
It ain't over till the handshake, lad.
I'm not really in the mood|for a pep talk.
Well, you'd better get ready for one.
Hi.
I thought you'd gone.
Yeah, me too.
Having a tough day?
Well, you know, disastrous.
Except for the fact that you didn't go|gooey when the ball boy got hit.
Yeah.
Sorry.
Why are you British|apologising all the time?
Don't apologise to me, I love you.
- Apologise to the people out there...|- What did you say?
- I said the whole country...|- No, the other bit.
I said I love you.
See that's very good news. I thought|I was alone in the love department.
Well, it turns out you've got company.
- I'm so sorry.|- If you say sorry one more time,
- you're gonna be sorry.|- About the other night.
Stop it. Forget about that.|This is about you.
Go out there and decide who you are.
- Who might that be?|- That might be a winner.
Please be patient, Mr Hammond.|Please sit down.
Did he flee the building with the rain?
- I think he's in the lavatory.|- Isn't that a comfort break?
- Yes, they are allowed one.|- If he's got a gippy tummy...
So if he doesn't come back...
He's gonna lose.
Of course I want to win, I do.
- But he's just better than me.|- No, he's not.
- My back's killing me.|- You play through the pain.
- My legs are like lead.|- Find a second wind.
- His serve is unstoppable.|- It's not. It's a bundle of tells.
- What?|- His serve.
It's like a book,|you just have to know how to read it.
I don't care who wins,|I represent both players.
It's like asking which one of my kids|I love more.
- Which one do I love more?|- [wild cheering]
My daughter. I'll talk to you later.
Let's hope he's better.
So far, he's been a blowout.
Yeah, Pete... Peter!
as play resumes
and one game to love.
Hammond to serve. Play.
[cheering intensifies]
[girl] Come on, Pete!
- [man] Come on, Pete!|- [man] Go for it, Peter!
not twice, he's going for the body.
and shows you his toe,
it means he's hitting deep.
[grunts]
on that one.
to climb out of the hole he's in.
Ouch. You all right.
- Welcome back.|- Same to you, sir.
Station ident ready to roll.
Eight. Top of your shot.|We got a visitor.
John, did you see who just came in?
an immediate adrenaline burst.
- [McEnroe] He did it, Chrissie.
He pulled up his set.
Oh!
Yes!
[crowd gasps]
Colt's game has levelled
at five-all in this tie-break.
wants to keep his comeback alive.
Here we go.
[anguished cries]
[umpire] 6-5, Hammond.
in the tie-breaker
a Championship point.
of Peter Colt's pro career.
Right here, right now.
- [McEnroe] This could be it, Chrissie.
he's going right. Or is it the toss?
Oh, sod it.
[gasping]
[gasping]
[gasping]
- [umpire] 6-6.
a complete one-eighty on Peter Colt.
from the journeyman player.
about getting to the airport.
to a fifth set, and if I was Hammond,
I'd want to close it out right now.
with the momentum going the other way.
OK, first one to win by two.
[crowd chants] Pete! Pete! Pete!
quiet, please.
[murmuring]
- [umpire] 7-6, Colt.
Now Hammond's the one getting tight.
to force a fifth and deciding set.
[clapping dies down]
- [mobile phone]|- [crowd groans]
- Oh, give us a goddamn break.|- [ringing continues]
all mobile phones. Thank you.
[man] Come on, Peter.
- Yeah?|- [man] Come on, Peter.
[Peter grunts]
[gasping]
[groaning]
[wild cheering]
We're gonna play five!
[journalist speaks in Spanish]
After a disastrous start,|Peter Colt has battled back...
[all talk]
[umpire] Game, Colt.
[chatter]
[journalist talks in foreign language]
san.
[strains]
[Peter grunts]
five games to four. Final set.
[Chris Evert] Colt has broken Hammond,
for the Wimbledon title.
found anyone to give him a ride home.
got a chance to serve out the match.
[crowd shouts encouragement]
- [umpire] Time.
[cheering, applause]
Break you right back, asshole.
gamesmanship from Hammond.
Come on, Peter.
- [girl] You can do it, Pete!|- [man] Come on, Peter.
[shouting stops]
- [umpire] 15-love.
Come on!
points away from winning Wimbledon.
[cheering, whooping]
just another point. Just another point.
you could win Wimbledon,
have to take the projob.
You could buy a new place, redecorate.
Although God knows what tastes she has.
Oh, shut up, you silly ponce.
[umpire] 30-love.
Make that two points away, Chrissie.
[ecstatic screams]
[man] Come on, Peter!
Ladies and gentlemen, quiet, please.
[Peter] Oh, my God. Oh, my God.
Oh, my God.
Come on, Pete.
- [umpire] 30-15.
[man] You got him, Jake!
in the past choking on big points.
be surprised if Colt got real tight.
- Thank you.|- It's my fault.
[woman] Come on, Pete!
[crowd members shout]
Don't choke. Don't choke.
Please don't choke. Please don't choke.
I'm not gonna choke, dammit.
- [umpire] 40-15.
Peter!
is serving a Championship point.
- [umpire] Quiet, please.|- [crowd continue to talk]
Ladies and gentlemen, quiet please.
[Peter] Championship point.
Right, then.
- [wild cheering]|- Out.
That was a terrible call.
- What the hell?|- What?
the ball was definitely in.
- It was on the line!|- It was on the line!
- I'd be torching the stadium about now.|- [booing]
Excuse me. The ball was good.
- [umpire] 40-30.|- Oh, come on.
Chalk flew up, the whole stadium saw.|It was quite an important point.
That's too close for me to overrule.
- Please resume play.|- Absolutely not. It's total bollocks.
- [umpire] Code violation.
Warning, Mr Colt.
[crowd chant] ln! ln! ln! ln!
a second chance to win the Championship.
[McEnroe] The question is, can he do it?
players, including yours truly,
getting back in the mindset.
Ladies and gentlemen, quiet, please.
- [Evert] That wasn't even close.
[McEnroe] And it wasn't fast either.
a truly great player.
of a player's game..."
[Peter] Stop it. You have to stop it.
Now.
[shouting fades out]
[heartbeat]
[takes deep breaths]
[gasping]
[gasping]
[ecstatic cheers]
The journeyman has won.
ranked 119th in the world,
now champion of Wimbledon.
[roaring]
Call Letterman, call Leno,|call Oprah, call Kimmel...
[McEnroe] It's pandemonium here.
life. The Brits finally have a winner.
- What's wrong with you? Bet on Jake?|- I put it all on you, bro!
- Can I retire now, Mum?|- Certainly not!
- Well done, Son.|- I love you.
for somebody else.
who he's looking for.
There's so much I want to say to you.
- I'm not going anywhere.|- Oh, yes, you are.
You're going a long, long way.
match that moment.
It's everything you wait a lifetime for.
That dream finally come true.
- What else could ever come close?
Except this, maybe.
young kids like my own, not old ladies.
- And I love it.|- I beat you!
Rubbish, the ball was in, it was... Ow!
[Peter] Well, most of the time.
be over if I wasn't playing tennis.
it was really just beginning.
the US Open. And Wimbledon.
Twice.
But I feel good
But I feel high
But I feel good
But I feel high
But I feel good
But I feel high
But I feel good
But I feel high
Yes, y'all
Yes, y'all
Deeper down
Yes, y'all
Deeper down
Yes, y'all
Deeper down
Tryin' to get home, find a phone
Trying to hit a Saturday nighter
Yeah, I was just followin' the Friday
I found a driver, here's a fiver
Excuse me, is this the venue?
Yeah, I was just followin' the Friday
I was just going with the... uh
But I feel good
But I feel high
But I feel good
But I feel high
But I feel good
But I feel high
But I feel good
But I feel high
Yes, y'all
Deeper down
Yes, y'all
Deeper down
Yes, y'all
Deeper down
Yes, y'all
Deeper down
Tryin' to get home, find a phone
Trying to hit a Saturday nighter
Yeah, I was just followin' the Friday
I found a driver, here's a fiver
Excuse me, is this the venue?
Yeah, I was just followin' the Friday
I was just going with the... uh
But I feel good
But I feel high
But I feel good
But I feel high
But I feel good
But I feel high
But I feel good
But I feel high
Excuse me, is this the venue?
But I feel good
But I feel high
But I feel good
But I feel high
But I feel good
But I feel high
But I feel good
But I feel high