Interviewer: Half time, and England trail Mexico by 2-0.
Mike: HAVE YOU HEARD WHAT THE CROWD ARE FUCKING SHOUTING? "FUCK BASSETT!" "BASSETT'S A CUNT!" "BASSETT'S A BASTARD!" "BASSETT'S A WANKER!" THEY SHOULDN'T BE FUCKING SHOUTING AT ME, THEY SHOULD BE SHOUTING AT YOU, AND DO YOU KNOW WHY? BECAUSE IT'S FUCKING HALF-TIME, AND WE'RE FUCKING 2-0 DOWN TO THE FUCKING MEXICANS! WHAT THE FUCK'S WRONG WITH YOU? GET YOUR FUCKING FINGERS OUT! WHERE'S YOUR BOTTLE FUCKING GONE?
[hurls piece of equipment at the goalkeeper]
Mike: AND FUCKING PAY ATTENTION YOU CUNT, WHEN I'M FUCKING TALKING TO YOU! IF YOU DON'T WANNA WEAR THE SHIRT, FUCKING TAKE IT OFF! THERE'S THOUSANDS OF KIDS OUT THERE WHO'D DIE TO PUT THAT FUCKING SHIRT ON! GET BACK ON THE FUCKING FIELD, SHOW THOSE BASTARDS WHAT YOU CAN FUCKING DO, OR YOU CAN FUCK OFF HOME ON THE FUCKING PLANE! YOU GOT THAT?
Mike: Tony Hedges, York City? I didn't pick him, love.
Margaret: You must have done, Mike. I wouldn't have put him down, otherwise.
Mike: Never heard of him, have I? And who's this clown? Ron Benson, Plymouth Argyle?
Margaret: Look, Mike, they were on the list of players that you gave me!
Mike: [holding up the cigarette box he wrote the squad list on] Oh, come on, love! Show me where it says "Benson and Hedges" on that.
Karine Bassett: [to Camera] Last night Mike had a dream that Bobby Moore was chasing him round Wembley Stadium shouting "Look what you've done you bloody idiot"
Mike: Alright, Smallsy? Eh, you've got the best part of the dressing room, there - that's Charlton's lucky peg, that is.
Smallsy: Hey, hear that lads? I've got Bobby Charlton's lucky peg!
Gary Wackett: [Leading the England squad to face the Polish] Let's fucking kill them!
Pelé: [an interviewer walks Pele into the hotel lounge, unaware that Mike is drunkenly dancing on the bar] Football brings the world together. It creates a family of nations, where we are all equal...
Mike: Hey, Pele! You were the greatest striker in the history of football, and you still missed a bloody sitter there in the World Cup in 1970! You were only three foot out, bloody headed it, and Banksy tipped it over the bloody bar.
Pelé: Oh, Christ, it's the English! Let's get out of here!
Mike: [Harpsey's phone rings, Mike snatches it off him] Will you *fuck off*?
[throws Harpsey's phone to the floor]
Dr. Hans Shoegaarten: [Picking the best players used for a simulation training program] Pele, Maradona and Mark Lawrenson.
Mike: 88 bloody milligrams! You go on the piss all day, you've ballooned out like the Pillsbury Doughboy! You've really let me down this time, Tonka, I'm telling you.
Mike: Oh, fuck the apology! You could go to jail for this! What sort of system am I going to play then? Three across the middle and one in bloody Pentonville?
[last lines]
Interviewer: [after Mike and the team leave the plane] Are you going to stay on?