Rise Of The Footsoldier

Hello, mate. It's me again.

Listen, mate, can you

give me a call back, please?

Well, I'm just getting

a bit worried.

So just give me a call back

as soon as you get this message.

All right, mate. Ta.

It was the end of an era.

But before the murders,

the torture,

the beatings and the Ecstasy...

before all of that

there was football.

You see, football was

where the spites

and the hatred first came from.

On those terraces...

well, it's where it all began for me.

I just turned 16, and I was

already a naughty little f***er,

working my way up

through the ranks.

I was West Ham, and for us,

football, fighting and f***ing

was our way of life.

And if you came down our manor,

well, you're gonna get a slap.

And if we went over to you,

well, we'd f***ing turn you over,

'cause for us it was

all about respect.

It was the same

all over the place.

But you know what?

We weren't trying to change the world.

We were just looking

for a f***ing tear-up.

Ladies and gentlemen...

Bill Gardner.

He was West Ham's top boy,

an inspiration to us all.

There's your Bovril, Bill...

nice and hot.

Come on then, Gardner!

I've waited all f***ing year

for you, you c*nt!

Come o... ah!

Gonna need another one

of those, lad.

Get us a meat pie and all.

Even though I was

wrapped around violence,

I always had time for the ladies.

So I waltzed up to this bird

and I just put it on her...

"You all right, darling?

Where you been all my life?"

And that was how I met Karen.

Beautiful Karen.

We got married two days after

I came out of Tottenham

magistrate's court.

I had been up on a threatening

behavior charge.

And I'd also gotten in a fight

at my stag do the night before

so, yeah, I looked

a right f***ing state.

So I was a married man,

but football was my mistress,

and I played away

every weekend.

First round of the Cup

when we played Fulham

and believe it or not,

it kicks off,

and like f***ing clockwork

the Old Bill comes steaming in.

But behave yourself

and what are you going to do, eh?

It's f***ing war on the streets.

We were all over

the papers the next day,

and they were going on

about how we were

the biggest menace

since the IRA.

But I mean what

the f*** did we care?

We was just having a laugh.

Oh, Carlton, she is beautiful.

Yeah, of course she is...

just like me.

Do you hear that?

Just like your dad.

I'll f***ing kill you!

I'll f***ing do you in!

# There's gonna be

a Borstal breakout #

# There's gonna be a Borstal breakout #

# There's gonna be

a Borstal breakout #

# There's gonna be a Borstal breakout. #

We started calling

ourselves the ICF...

the InterCity Firm.

and that's because we took

the InterCity trains

to all the away matches rather than

jumping on the old football specials.

And we dressed up smart,

looked a little bit respectable.

You see, that way

the Old Blue don't spot you.

Man U-f***ing-nited

and the bloody coach breaks down.

And to be fair to the driver,

he did try and offer up an explanation,

but Paul wasn't having none of it.

We just about get there in time

for the second half,

and then we go down 4-0

without f***ing fighting.

- Screw you.

- Speak English, you c*nts.

F*** off back

to your campsite, you little c*nts.

You saucy Northern c*nts!

Let's f***ing do the bastards.

Hey, come back here,

you little punk!

I'll f***ing kill you!

Right!

And there we go. F*** me!

Just fallen

for the oldest trick in the book.

Light it.

Come on!

Come on!

ICF! ICF!

ICF! ICF!

All right, darling?

You look a state, Carlton.

Red Army?

Don't make me laugh.

Scruffy Manc c*nts.

You had a good time then?

Yeah, we kicked their f***ing heads in.

It was classic.

But I was a mug.

Here I was with a girl

who really loved me,

and you know the last time

I said the words "I love you"

was to Eddie after five pints

down at a boozer in Canning Town.

And then suddenly

I get this job offer out of the blue.

Turns out that Smalls nightclub is

looking for a new doorman.

They've been having

all kinds of trouble

from some local firm

and they wanted someone

with a bit of weight

to keep the peace.

What I'm trying to create here is

what they call an environment.

Now you could usher the nice-looking

birds to the front of the queue.

That's always a good start.

If you get the nice-looking birds,

then the geezers wanna

spend their money.

You following me, Carlton?

Yeah yeah.

So, what we talking about,

say 40 nicker a night?

Is that good with you?

Yeah, people tried it on,

but everybody got

what they came for.

If you turned up looking

for a drink and a couple of birds,

that's what you got.

But if you came in

for anything else,

well, you'd end up

with my fist in your face.

And if you came back with

your little army wrapped around you,

well, I'd just have

to get my metal bar out.

And if I caught you

noncing in the toilet, well,

I won't think twice about stabbing you

up the ass with a knife.

You see, when someone's

out to make a name for themselves,

you have to rip 'em so hard

that they never want to get up again.

Now this may seem

a little bit harsh,

but in my world kindness is

mistaken for weakness.

I want to talk to you.

I think there's a couple

of doormen on the take.

I'm losing

over 200 quid a week

and the only person who I know

ain't on the fiddle is you.

So what are you saying?

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