Cass Page #2

I'm sick of being tormented for it.

It's a girl's name.

Everyone knows it's a girl's name.

Well, don't blame me. Blame them

that give you away. I didn't give it ya.

Why can't you call me something else,

then?

Well, what am I supposed to call you,

you daft sod?

I can't just call you son all the time, can I?

- Call me Cass.

- Call you what?

- Call me Cass.

- Cass?

- What's that?

- That's what my mates call me.

Well, why on earth do they call you Cass?

That's worse than Carol.

No, it ain't.

It's after that boxer, Cassius Clay.

Oh, bleedin' hell! I might have known

it had something to do with fighting.

Yeah, but he's the toughest fighter there is.

Everyone likes him.

People don't like you

just cos you can bash people up, son.

Oh, all right, if it means that much to you

and it's going to make your life easier,

I'll call you... Cass.

Will you make the teachers

call me Cass as well, then?

But you got to promise me

to stay out of trouble, OK?

Yeah, but everyone apart from my mates

think that all I am is just a darkie.

That is just ignorant name calling.

That is not what you are.

I'll tell you what you are.

You are my special boy.

Special like Cassius Clay?

Yeah, special just like Cassius Clay.

Come here!

Right, you pair. Off you go.

And don't let him take you down the pub

with all them West Ham mates.

No bad influences, right?

You take care of him, Cecil.

I don't want him

getting into any more trouble.

It's all right, Doll. It's only the football.

We're the North Bank,

we're the North Bank

We're the North Bank Upton Park!

- You all right, fellas?

- Yes, mate.

I don't know what

the f***ing East End's coming to, do you?

- Yeah, I know, mate.

- Hey, steady on, lads. He's just a little kid.

Gonna f***in' grow up though, ain't he?

You all right, son?

You looking forward to the match, son?

- What's the special occasion?

- Eh?

Well, why are you taking me with you,

all of a sudden?

Your mother thought

we ought to spend a bit more time together.

- Why?

- You know what your mother's like, son.

Anyway,

who's your favourite West Ham player?

- I'm not sure.

- Oh, come on.

Bobby Moore? Martin Peters? Geoff Hurst?

Don't know.

Yeah, well... Don't matter.

Just remember, stay close to me today.

Don't want you getting hurt, right, Cass?

Your mother'd kill me.

I'm forever blowing bubbles

Pretty bubbles in the air

They fly so high, they reach the sky

And like my dreams, they fade and die

Fortunes always hiding...

Upton Park was known

as the academy of football.

The Britannia was known as the heartbeat

of the hardcore West Ham following.

- Are we going in?

- Yeah, f*** it, we're half in the firm now.

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