This Sporting Life

Synopsis: In Northern England in the early 1960s, Frank Machin is mean, tough and ambitious enough to become an immediate star in the rugby league team run by local employer Weaver. Machin lodges with Mrs Hammond, whose husband was killed in an accident at Weaver's, but his impulsive and angry nature stop him from being able to reach her as he would like. He becomes increasingly frustrated with his situation, and this is not helped by the more straightforward enticements of Mrs Weaver.
Genre: Drama, Sport
Director(s): Lindsay Anderson
Production: Continental
  Nominated for 2 Oscars. Another 3 wins & 8 nominations.
Rotten Tomatoes:
134 min

Come on, lads,

get some weight into it.

Come on, get stuck in.

No, come on, come on.

Bloody hell!

He's broke his front teeth.

You won't want no tarts for a week.

How is he?

Just a bit dazed.

He'll be all right.

He's not too bad.

How do you feel?

You want to charge more rent.

Mrs. Hammond, when I first got

here I thought I'd fallen easy.

I don't want a list of

my shortcomings.

I'm trying to show you where

you're hurting yourself.

Can I talk to you as a person?

If you listen, I could

really put you right.

Don't try and work me into a fit.

I asked you before

to leave me alone.

I can't stand it.

How do you feel, Frank?

You won't be able to shoot

your mouth off like before,

at least not for a few days.

Can you fix me up with a dentist?

I don't know.

It's Christmas, you know.

I want it tonight.

Well, I could try.


Come on, you lot, out!

How do I look?

I've seen worse.

Go on, you're dry.

Going to Weaver's party tonight?

I've been counting on it.

I'd leave well alone if I were you.

Weaver and parties.

I'd get your mouth seen to first,

it's more important.

How's your Mrs. Hammond?

She's all right.

I've bought some presents

for the kids.

The bitch won't like it, though.

She doesn't like me interfering.

Hallo, Frank. How are you, lad?

Not now, Johnson, we're in a hurry.

Mr. Weaver.

- Yes, George?

- Frank's ready.

Oh, good.

How's it going, Frank?

All right.

Hallo, Maurice.

Are you coming in the car, too?

I wouldn't miss it.

We might even get a camera.

Put your doggie in the boot, George.

Right-oh, Mr. Weaver.

What about your dog, Frank?

Go on in, Dad.

That's not very funny.

Let's have a look.

It's not me, it's Frank here.

Right. Come on.

I have a Members Ticket but

haven't seen a match this season.

Sit yourself down

It's a mess.

They'll have to come out.

Six of them.

It's all I can do.

Hasn't Weaver arranged to pay you?

That's not the point.

He'll need a plate.

What of it?

I can't make it, this is

the Children's Department.

I know a couple of kids

who have false teeth.

Do you?

You do the pulling and

get your mate to do the plate.

It's no party here,

let's get on with it.

You see, he's in pain.

It'll be ten guineas.

- Ten guineas!

- Take it or leave it.

Come on, whatever the bloody price.

It'll have to be gas.

Have you eaten recently?

No, not since my dinner.

Would you mind waiting outside?

Go on, Maurice.


Put your hands in your pockets.

That's it.

Sit tight. You'll feel nothing.

Breathe deeply.

Sit tight.

Keep your hands in your pockets.

You'll feel nothing.

I've been thinking.

Why don't we go for a walk?

What on earth for?

What do you want us to go

walking in the bloody dark for?

I like to talk to someone

when I'm walking.

Your problems, they're sort of...

You've plenty of friends.

There, look at this funny man.

Here, you play with it.

You must be mad to think

I'd go out walking with you.

I don't want you poking

your nose in my affairs.

You won't find me poking

my nose into yours.

I have some pride left,

if you didn't know.

Don't you want to be happy?

If I'm left alone, I'm happy.

I don't need you pushing in.

I'm not pushing in.

I'm just trying to be friendly.

I'm not going about with a grin on my

face to make you think I'm happy.

I don't mean laughing all the time.

You just don't look happy.

- It's not a question of laughing.

- You make me sick!

I am sick. I'm bloody sick of

living here, an' all.

Mr. Machin, that's easily settled.


Stop living here.

We'll be better off without you.

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David Storey

David Malcolm Storey (13 July 1933 – 27 March 2017) was an English playwright, screenwriter, award-winning novelist and a professional rugby league player. He won the Booker Prize in 1976 for his novel Saville. He also won the MacMillan Fiction Award for This Sporting Life in 1960. more…

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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    "This Sporting Life" STANDS4 LLC, 2021. Web. 7 Mar. 2021. <>.

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