Let us praise famous men
and our fathers that begat us.
All these men were honoured in their generations
and were the glory in their day.
We are here today to give thanks for the life of Harold Abrahams -
to honour the legend.
Now there are just two of us,
young Aubrey Montague and myself,
who can close our eyes and remember those few young men,
with hope in our hearts
and wings on our heels.
AUBREY: Carlton Hotel, Broadstairs, Kent, 28th June 1924.
Dear Mum,
I'm awfully sorry about your cold
and the general dreariness -
we're also having bad weather here.
I'm sorry you are both disappointed that I'm letting the Olympic Games interfere with my shorthand,
but if you were my age and had the chance to win a gold medal in Paris, you'd be as big a fool as I am.
It's awfully kind of Pa to finance me here, in spite of my idiocy.
There's a marvellous esprit de corps among the chaps.
Cricket, Montague, in the ballroom!
No-ball!
Come on, Aubrey, the old leg break!
Howzat!
Not out! What? You could hear it in Bournemouth! My innings, Liddell.
No, you must've heard the crack of my wrist.
I saw the bloody thing bend. Andy?
Afraid not, old chap!
He's out! You're all deaf... and blind.
Aubrey, I ask you, for God's sake!
It's not FAIR!
All right, then.
AUBREY: "Harold's here, as intense as ever, just as he was on our first day at Cambridge."
"I remember we shared a taxi."
I'll take these.
See you inside, Aubrey. Right.
Name, please. We're new. I can see that. What's your name?
Abrahams, HM.
Top of the list. Repton? Yes, left a year ago. Been doing your bit?
France? No, I joined too late. Bad luck, laddie!
Many dead men would've shared it, bad luck or not. You're right.
Er, welcome to Caius.
Sign here.
Thank you.
Across the courtyard. Top right-hand corner and up the stairs. Thanks.
By the way, what are your names? I'm Rogers, Head Porter, and this is Mr Ratcliffe, my assistant.
Well, Mr Rogers...
I ceased to be called 'laddie' when I took up the King's commission. Is that clear? Yes, Mr...Abrahams.
Quite clear. Thank you. I'd be obliged if you'd remember.
See you later. Fine.
What's your friend studying, then?
Barrack-room law?
I've no idea.
One thing's certain - name like Abrahams, he won't be in the Chapel choir, will he?
Name?
Montague.
What?
THE CHOIR SING GRACE IN LATIN
I take the war list and I run down it.
Name after name which I cannot read
and which we who are older than you cannot hear without emotion,
names which will be only names to you, the new college,
but which to us summon up face after face
full of honesty and goodness, zeal and vigour...
and intellectual promise -
the flower of a generation, the glory of England.
And they died for England and all that England stands for.
And now, by tragic necessity, their dreams have become yours.
I exhort you...examine yourselves,
let each of you discover where your true chance of greatness lies.
For their sakes...
For the sake of your college and your country, seize this chance, rejoice in it.
And let no power or persuasion deter you in your task.
"Thursday,
"October 10th 1919."
"My first day ended with the Freshman's Dinner, a sumptuous affair."
"The Master gave us a moving speech,
and I now eagerly await
the beginning of term proper."
Rugby, golfing, tennis, squash, FLORA AND FAUNA! Philately...
Is that all? You're idle, man!
I've got to do SOME work.
Birdwatching!
Then you can read!
Not if I'm watching!
Cricket! Go on, Stallard.
I can't bat for toffee!
# Upon the battle scene, they fight the foe together,
# Where every mother's son prepared to fight or fall is,
# The enemy of one the enemy of all is. The enemy of one the enemy of all is! #
Abrahams, HM. Can't manage a tenor, can you?
Only under torture! Do you sing, Aubrey? Only at school.
You, Stallard? Not on your life.
Sorry, but we all can't be gifted! # If everybody's somebody...
# Then no-one's anybody! #
Put my friend down too. Steady on!
Rehearsals for Iolanthe begin on Monday.
I was a boy alto. You can be Queen of the Fairies!
FABIAN: We have a duty, a solemn duty, to the millions who died needlessly.
# The boys are far away, They dream of home... #
Glad to have you, Stallard. Middle-distance runners don't grow on trees.
I can't vouch for those times...
taken with the school alarm-clock.
Give or take a second, they're good enough for me.
Come across a chap called Abrahams? He's challenged for the College Dash.
What's so special about that?
My dear fellow, in all of 700 years nobody's ever done it.
Right, chaps. Thank you.
Let it be known that HM Abrahams of Gonville and Caius has formally made challenge for the College Dash.
MURMURS AND CHEERS FROM THE CROWD
For those of you not familiar with the rules...
the challenger will attempt to run around the court, to and from a fixed point,
within the time taken by the clock to strike midday, a distance recognised as 188 paces.
< Abrahams, got rockets on your feet?
The challenge will commence on the stroke of one.
Do it for Israel! >
The challenger must reach his mark before the stroke of 12.
< Go on, Abrahams, you swank!
Will the challenger make himself ready?
OOOOOOH!
OOOOOOOH!
This Abrahams, what do you know about him?
Repton chap. Jewish.
His father's a financier
in the City.
Financier!
What's that supposed to mean, I wonder.
I imagine he lends money.
Exactly!
What do they say about the son?
Academically sound. Arrogant. Defensive to the point of pugnacity.
As they INVARIABLY are!
Yet possessing a keen sense of duty and loyalty.
Do they say he can run?
Like the wind.
Gentlemen, draw back, please...
away from the course. Thank you.
Mr Abrahams, your position, please.
Owing to the absence of any other challenger, Mr Abrahams runs alone.
NOT SO, MR STARTER!
CHEERS FROM THE CROWD
Name and college, sir? Lindsay.
I race beside my friend here. We challenge in the name of Repton, Eton, and Caius.
I didn't know you ran. Nor I you.
Some chap told me about this over breakfast.
Delighted. Splendid! Good luck.
To your marks, please.
Now remember, on the first strike of twelve.
DING DONG, DING DONG,
DING DONG, DING DONG
CLANG
CROWD: SIX!
SEVEN!
EIGHT!
NINE!
TEN!
- ELEVEN! - Go on, Harold!
CHEERING
Did they both do it?
I think not.
Young Lindsay failed
by a whisker.
Pity.
'He's a Caius man. You must be very proud.'
'The first man in SEVEN centuries.'
'Perhaps they ARE God's chosen people after all... HE LAUGHS ...
'I doubt there's a swifter man in the kingdom.'
BAGPIPES PLAY
'Get to your marks...
get set...
Please, Mr Liddell!
'He may be your best friend, Sandy, but he's my best brother!'
'I'm thinking of him and not your blessed athletics team.'
'His heart's set on following Father in the mission.'
'Has he not enough on his plate without taking up racing?'
But he's fast. You've seen him with a ball in his hands.
I've seen him with a Bible, and that's more important.
But you can't deny him the chance. I'm telling you, Jennie...
Don't tell me, Sandy. I don't want to hear. Eric's special to me.
I don't want his work spoilt with all this running talk.
'Is there a John McMillan anywhere? Come for your consolation prize.'
There you are. Well done.
You know, ladies and gentlemen, one of the compensations of achieving a certain notoriety -
if only as a rugby player -
is that occasionally you're asked to come and give things away.
It's said giving beats receiving, and let me tell you,
the delight on those wee boys' faces was worth ten of any of the tin pots gathering dust at my home.
POLITE LAUGHTER
When we were in China, my father here was always waxing lyrical about his wee home in the glen -
but being Oriental born myself, like my brothers and sister here,
I suffered from a natural incredulity,... LAUGHTER
but looking about me now at the heather and the hills...
I can see he was right. It's very special.
APPLAUSE
Thank you for welcoming us home...
and thank you
for reminding me that I am,
and will be whilst I breathe...
MOOOO >
..a Scot.
Er...Mr Provost, sir!
Before you allow Eric to go, is it not true that the main event
of the meeting is still to be run? 'It is, aye.'
The 200 yards Open Championship. It's the last event of this gathering, by tradition.
Do you not think...if we can find him some kit, we might persuade Scotland's finest wing
to show us his paces?
CHEERS
What d'you say, Eric?
HURRAH!
'To your marks...
'get set...
BANG
Didn't I tell you, Eric? Didn't I tell you?
Well, surely a touch of liberality would do no harm.
Sandy, the kingdom of God is not a democracy.
The Lord never seeks re-election. There's no discussion, no debate, no referenda as to which road to take.
There's one right, one wrong, one absolute ruler.
A dictator, you mean.
Aye, but a benign,
LOVING dictator.
So much for your freedom of choice.
Oh, you've still got a choice. Nobody's forcing you to follow him.
Oh, hey hey. D'ye know what day it is?
Yeah. Tell me, then. Sunday.
The Sabbath's not for football, is it? No.
Are you up early in the morning? At seven.
We'll have a game tomorrow. Mr Liddell, can my dad come?
Sure, bring your whole family. I'll give you a five-goal start.
We've a train at nine. That's plenty of time.
D'you want the kid to grow up thinking God's a spoilsport?
FAMILY CHATTER
If I may, I'd like to make a toast to the Liddell family, whom I'm lucky enough to call my friends.
The Reverend JD, Mrs L, young Ernest...
bon voyage and safe journey back to China, and may the years ahead be happy and content.
For those who remain, may God protect them, inspire them and lead them to glory.
Thank you, Sandy, that was VERY nice.
I'm relying on you to watch them!
I'll send a card with the details before you can say Marco Polo!
It'll cost a fortune in stamps!
Don't worry, son! I'll protect my investment with a rod of iron.
LAUGHTER Oh, well, we have to watch ourselves!
You're a very lucky young man, Eric. You have many gifts.
It is your duty to use them well.
Dad's right. Run like we know you can, strong and true,
and the mission will gain from that.
We need a muscular Christian, to make folk sit up and notice.
'How good ARE you, Eric?'
Sandy reckons he'll run for Scotland this month, and then...
the sky's the limit.
Meaning what?
The Olympic Games, maybe.
'Eric, you can praise the Lord by peeling a spud
if you peel it to perfection. Don't compromise, it's one of the Devil's languages.
Run in God's name...
and let the world stand back in wonder.
# ..His boundless mercy will provide
# Trust and thy trusting soul shall prove
# Christ its life and Christ its love
# Run the straight race through God's good grace
# Lift up thine eyes and seek His face
# Life with its way before us lies
# Christ is our hope and Christ our prize. #
You came to see a race today, to see someone win. It happened to be me.
LAUGHTER
But I want you to do MORE than just watch a race - I want you to TAKE PART in it.
I want to compare faith to running in a race.
It's hard, requires concentration of will, energy of soul.
You experience elation when the winner BREAKS the tape...
especially if you've got a bet on.
But how long does that last?
You go home - maybe your dinner's burnt.
Maybe...Maybe you haven't got a job.
So who am I to say, "Believe", "Have faith" in the face of life's realities?
I'd like to give you something more permanent, but I can only point the way.
I have no formula for winning the race -
everyone runs in her own way, or his own way.
So where does the power come from to finish the race?
From within.
Jesus said,
"Behold, the kingdom of God is within you.
"If with all your hearts you truly
"seek me, ye shall ever surely find me."
If ye commit yourself
to the love of Christ,
then THAT is how you run the straight race.
Cheers. Thanks for coming.
It's an ache...
a helplessness...
and anger.
One feels humiliated...
Sometimes I say to myself, "Steady on, you're imagining it".
Then I catch that look again,
catch it on the edge of a remark, feel the cold reluctance in a handshake.
That's my father.
A Lithuanian Jew.
He IS alien, he's as foreign as a frankfurter. And a Kosher one at that!
I love and admire him.
He worships this country.
From nothing, he built what he believed would make true Englishmen of his sons.
My brother's a doctor.
A leader in his field.
Which one? The one with the curls.
Gosh.
He wanted for nothing.
And here am I...
setting up shop in the finest university in the land...
But the old man forgot one thing.
This England of his is Christian and Anglo-Saxon...
..and so are her corridors of power.
And those who stalk them guard them with jealousy and venom.
You're right to study law, you're quite an advocate.
A rare ethnic advantage - it's called the gift of the gab!
So what now? Grin and bear it?
No, Aubrey. I'm going to take them on.
All of them. One by one.
And run them off their feet.
# He is an ENGLISHMAN ! #
# He is an ENGLISHMAN. #
# For he himself has said it
# And it's greatly to his credit
# That he is an Englishman
CHOIR: # That he is an Englishman
"England beckons for sprint blue: from our special correspondent."
# A French or Turk or Persian...
"A sweep for Cambridge star."
"Abrahams hat trick:
"from our special correspondent."
# But in spite of all temptations
# to belong to other nations
# he remains an Englishman
# he remains an ENGLISHMAN #
# Oh, in spite of all temptations
# to belong to other nations
# he remains an Englishman
# He remains an ENGLISHMAN. #
BRAVO, HAROLD!
BAGPIPES PLAY THE FRENCH NATIONAL ANTHEM
Mr Mussabini, I believe?
Correct.
My name is Colonel John Keddie.
I'm... President of the Scottish Three-As, I know, and I'm glad to know you, sir.
Monsieur Sam, bonjour.
Bonjour, how's the leg?
Nasty fall you took.
Bonjour. Enchante. Good luck.
You're very welcome here, of course, but we have a STRICT amateur code.
Colonel, don't worry your head. I'm here spectating, that's all.
Good. I felt sure you'd understand. Well, to battle.
I hope you enjoy the games.
(Games! You must be joking! I've seen better-organised riots!)
COME ON, SCO-O-O-O-OTLAND!
VIVE LA FRANCE!
Gentlemen, get to your marks!
Get set.
BANG
(Get up, lad, GET UP.)
(He'll never do it.)
Don't you believe it.
COME ON, ERIC!
GET BACK, GET BACK... GIVE HIM AIR, GIVE HIM AIR!
Well done, Eric, son, well done. He'll be right in a jiffy.
Take good care of this lad, Mr McGrath,
because you'll never find another like this.
It's not the prettiest quarter I've seen, Mr Liddell,
but it's certainly the bravest. Get him up.
Come on, gently. That's it. Keep your arm way out.
Mr Mussabini.
Mr Abrahams, isn't it?
So you've travelled 300 miles just to see me? You AND Liddell. I heard you were both the best.
Ah, what d'you think now?
Eric Liddell?
I've never seen such drive, such commitment in a runner - he runs like a wild animal.
He unnerves me.
So he should. He scares the living daylights out of me. Yes, well, I want you to help me take him on.
Oh...em...
Mr Abrahams, are you married? No, why?
Well, when the right girl comes along...
how will you feel if she pops the question?
You see, Mr Abrahams, like the bridegroom,
the coach should do the asking.
Mr Mussabini,
I can run fast. With your help
I think I can run faster, perhaps faster than any man ever ran.
I WANT that Olympic medal.
Now, I can see it there, it's waiting for me...
but I can't get it on my own.
We have an old saying in my game, son -
you can't put in what God's left out.
You leave it to me.
I'll watch you, I'll observe you and if I think I can help... if I can see the big prize there,
believe me, I won't waste any time.
If we meet again...
I'LL do the begging. So you will watch me?
Son, if you're good enough... I'll take you apart piece by bloody piece!
Thank you.
MUSIC: THREE LITTLE MAIDS FROM SCHOOL
# Three little maids from school
# Three little maids who all have bearing Come from a ladies' seminary
# Straight from a teacher's scrutinary
# Three little maids from school Three little maids from SCHOOL! #
# One little maid is a bright yum-yum...
# Two little maids in attendance come
# Three little maids is the total sum... # Three little maids from school
# From three little maids take one away, two little maids remain...
# They won't have to wait too long Three little maids from school
# Three little maids who, all unwary
# Come from a ladies' seminary
Straight from a teacher's scrutinary
Three little maids... #
Didn't I tell you she was a peach? Magnificent!
Bravo!
LOUD APPLAUSE
Bravo!
I think it's going RATHER well! I must say I'm enjoying it.
What about it, JB? I've done better productions myself. Oh, have you (!)
So, the stone heart's frail after all. Abrahams is smitten?
SMITTEN! He won't listen to reason.
He's in love!
But I'VE worshipped her for YEARS.
Where is he now? Gone to ask her to dinner.
Has he, by Jove!
In the interval!
Thank you. Mine, I take it? Harold!
Lovely.
Er...well?
Well, what? Did you speak to her?
Yes. Is she coming? Yes.
To dinner! Yes, she has a kid brother,
athletics mad, knows all about me!
You'd better have MY glass, then!
BELL RINGS
Sorry, Monty.
Thank you very much, sir. Of course, sir.
Ah, Miss Gordon, a triumph, I hear.
Who was that chap?
The music critic of the Star. Boring old buffer, really.
Well, he obviously enjoyed it. No, they always say that. They save the poison for the print.
Bit off tonight, I thought. What! You were magnificent! Thank you.
One of our little maids has got herself preggers with a gondolier.
We had to shove her second on tonight.
Here you are, Miss Gordon. THANK you, Toffy.
And you, sir. Thank you.
This is Mr Abrahams. He is a VERY famous runner.
He's trying the Special for the first time tonight. I hope you enjoy it. I'm SURE I shall.
Well, go on, then.
It's a secret concoction of Toffy's, a sort of cocktail de maison,
so you'd jolly well better enjoy it.
Excellent. THERE, Toffy! You've won yourself a friend for life!
My favourite, please.
Well...
for two! My pleasure, sir.
What HAVE I ordered? Surprise.
Cheerio. Cheerio.
Well...the GREAT Harold Abrahams!
My brother will be insanely jealous. So will mine!
You don't look very ruthless.
Should I?
According to my brother. Tim says that's why you always win. Why running?
Why singing? It's my job.
No, that's silly... I do it because I love it.
D'you love running? I'm more of an addict. It's a compulsion, a weapon.
Against what? Being Jewish, I suppose.
You're not serious? You're not Jewish...
or you wouldn't ask. Fiddlesticks!
People don't care.
Anyway, being Jewish hasn't done you any harm.
I'm what I call "semi-deprived".
That sounds clever. What's it mean?
It means they lead me to water but they won't let me drink.
You're a funny old stick, Mr Abrahams...
funny...but fascinating. I'll settle for the fascinating.
Life isn't that gloomy, is it?
Not tonight.
You're SO beautiful.
Like you.
Le pied de porc Anglais, madame.
Pig's trotters, sir.
Oh, my God!
The train arriving at platform 6 is the overnight Flying Scotsman from Aberdeen.
7.30, Mr Liddell. 7.30 on t'dot.
There you are, sir. Hot tea and toast. Great!
D'you sleep all right? Like a log.
You must have a clear conscience. Far from it. Are we here?
Aye, just pulled in. King's Cross. Oh, and, er...here's the paper with your picture in.
Expecting great things. Are they indeed?
Here you are. Much obliged, sir.
No hurry, you've an hour before we kick you out. And good luck. Thank you.
Aye, Mr Abrahams, so's the Scot.
Mr Abrahams.
Mr Liddell.
I'd like to wish you the best of success. Thank you.
And may the best man win.
Get to your marks,
get set...
BANG
Extraordinary!
< Harold! Harold...
This is absolutely ridiculous! It's a race you've lost, not a relative. Nobody's dead.
Snap out of it, Harold, you're behaving like a child.
I lost... I KNOW. I was THERE, remember, watching.
It was MARVELLOUS.
YOU were marvellous.
He was MORE marvellous, that's all. On the day the best man won.
I had to look for him. It's ABSOLUTELY fundamental, you never look.
He was ahead. There was nothing you could do. He won fair and square.
Well, that's that, Abrahams.
Well, if you can't take beatings... I don't RUN to take BEATINGS!
I run to WIN.
If I can't win, I won't run.
If you don't run, you CAN'T win!
Give me a ring when you've sorted that one out. Sybil...
don't go.
I just don't know what to do. Try growing up.
Harold...
you're a great man. You ran like a god.
I was proud of you. Don't make me ashamed.
It's not the losing, Syb.
Eric Liddell is a fine man and a fine runner. It's ME.
After all that WORK,
now, God knows, what do I AIM for?
BEATING him the next time.
Sybil, I can't run any faster.
Oh, Mr Abrahams...
Mr Abrahams.
I can find you another TWO yards.
Charlie Paddock, Californian Cannonball.
World's fastest human. Winner, 100 metres,
Olympic Games, 1920. Time? 10.3.
Jackson Scholz, the New York Thunderbolt. Runner-up...
Olympic Games, 1920. Lost by looking right. Look.
Y'see, Paddock leaping past him at the tape.
That glance cost Scholz the race. Scholz's fastest? 10.3...FOUR!
Eric Liddell. You know about him.
Look at them.
Think them...breathe them.
I want them leering at you when you shut your eyes.
The Flying Scotsman first -
that hurt. What? Eric Liddell?
Why? He's no real problem.
He's a great runner, but he needs to go further out. He's no 100-metres man.
You could've fooled me! Yeah, but he won't go faster in a dash.
He's...he's a gut runner -
all heart - digs deep -
a short sprint is run on nerves -
it's MADE for neurotics. Thank YOU. I mean it. You can push guts, bully 'em, but you can hone nerves.
(Paddock, Scholz and Eric Liddell.)
Come here a minute, Mr Abrahams.
Now, d'you know why you lost?
Because you're over-striding, by a couple of inches.
These coins represent the strides
in your 100 metres.
Have you got another two coins, Mr Abrahams?
Well, maybe we can find them.
As I said...
over-striding - death to the sprinter.
Slap in the face each stride you take.
Knocks you back...
like that...
And that!
Now...
I want you to imagine you're running on hot bricks.
Leave your feet down too long and they'll get burnt. Up, up, up! Light, light, light as a feather.
Set!
COUGH!
NO! Not your head back again! Get it level!
That's it!
Faster, come on!
Pass the car, GO ON!
Go on, go on, go on...
Come on now, keep it up.
Rhythm, Mr Abrahams, rhythm!
CHOIR SINGS THE LORD'S MY SHEPHERD
Training, training, training. All I ever hear is training. D'you believe in what we're doing?
Look, Jennie, I'm sorry.
I was late. I apologise. That's all very well.
I said I was sorry. It's not ME you insulted.
Away with your bother!
The Lord is not slighted at the missing of a bus. But WHY did you?
Your mind's not with us any more. It's full of running and medals.
You've no room for standing still! Jennie! Jennie!
Jennie, don't fret yourself.
I do fret myself, Eric. I'm frightened for you.
I'm frightened for what it might do to you.
COUGH >
Please, Mr Liddell...
Would you sign your name, please? Surely.
D'you want to pick yourself a pen?
There you are.
Thanks.
Come on, Jennie, let's go for a walk. I've got something to say.
It's a sight and a half, isn't it?
Auld Reekie...
I'll be sad to leave it.
I've decided.
I'm going back to China.
The Missionary Service have accepted me. Oh, Eric, I'm SO pleased!
But I have a lot of running to do first.
Jennie, Jennie, you've GOT to understand.
I believe that God made me for a purpose.
For China.
But he also made me FAST,
and when I RUN I feel his pleasure.
To give it up would be to hold him in contempt.
You were right...
it's not just fun.
To win is to honour him.
Jennie...
I've got my degree to get -
all that work -
and then there's Paris -
the Olympic Games!
There's just not enough of me...
I'm asking you to manage the mission on your own till then.
Will you do that for me, Jennie?
SYBIL: Andy, I've lost him.
I can't reach him. You will, old girl, you will.
He says he needs to clear his mind of me.
He can't love me and say that.
Syb...
He thinks the world is against him. Now is his chance to prove himself.
He can't see or hear anything beyond that, not even you. It's hard, but try and understand.
Why should I? Because he's what you want.
What about YOU and Stallard and Aubrey?
You're still the same. The chance is there for you too. Yes, to be A fastest, but not THE fastest.
The fastest man ever before.
Father's never going to learn how to do that.
Immortality! Just think what it means to a man like Harold.
To me the whole thing's fun. I don't need that. Cast care aside and all that...
But for Harold it's a matter of life...
and death.
So all I can do is wait? Afraid so. And pray like hell he wins.
And if he doesn't...
Don't worry, old thing. I've never seen a man so SMITTEN as Harold.
It's just that I'm a little... envious, that's all. Oh, Andy.
Your parasol, Miss Gordon. Thank you, Mildred.
Good luck tonight.
He's a DAMNED fool!
I thought the Irish had all the luck!
John, the Savoy Theatre. Yes, sir.
Splendid.
Mildred, will you get my spikes?
Ready, my Lord.
Coote, if I shed a drop I want to know.
Touch but not spill, what?
TRINITY: Life slips by, Abrahams, life slips by.
But this fine old university offers SOME consolations? Beyond measure, sir.
Then you would be acutely grieved to discover that any action on your part was causing her grief?
Naturally, sir, I would...deeply.
Good. I was sure of it.
Here in Cambridge we've always been proud of our athletic prowess.
We've always believed our games are indispensable in helping to complete the education of an Englishman.
They create character,
they foster courage, honesty and leadership
but, most of all, an unassailable spirit of loyalty, comradeship and mutual responsibility.
Would you agree? Yes, sir, I would.
There is a growing suspicion in this university -
I say this without in any way decrying your achievements -
that in your enthusiasm for success you have perhaps lost sight of some of these ideals.
May I ask what form this disloyalty, this BETRAYAL, takes?
Hardly betrayal. The word GRIEF WAS mentioned.
It's said you use a personal coach.
Mr Mussabini, yes.
Is he an Italian?
Of Italian extraction, yes.
I see. But not ALL Italian.
I'm relieved to hear it. He's half Arab.
Do we take it that you employ this Mr Mussambini on a PROFESSIONAL basis?
Sam Mussabini is the finest, most advanced, clearest-thinking athletics coach in the country.
I'm honoured to have his attention. But he's a PROFESSIONAL.
What else would he be? Ah, there, Mr Abrahams, I'm afraid our paths diverge.
You see, this university believes the way of the AMATEUR is the only one to provide satisfactory results.
I AM an amateur.
Your trainer is a PROFESSIONAL. You have a PROFESSIONAL attitude.
You concentrate on developing your OWN technique - in the headlong pursuit, may I suggest,
of INDIVIDUAL glory.
This does not foster esprit de corps.
I am a Cambridgeman first and last.
I am an Englishman first and last.
What I achieve is for my FAMILY,
my UNIVERSITY...
and my COUNTRY.
I bitterly resent your suggestions. Your aim is to win at all costs, is it not?
No, I aim to win within the rules.
Perhaps you would rather I played the GENTLEMAN and lost? To playing the TRADESMAN, YES!
My dear boy, your approach has been, if I may say so, a little TOO plebeian.
You are the elite and are therefore expected to behave as such.
Thank you, sir,
for your hospitality.
The evening has been MOST illuminating.
Goodnight to you, sir.
You know, gentlemen,
you yearn for victory just as I do,
but achieved with the apparent effortlessness of Gods.
Yours are the archaic values of the prep school playground.
You deceive no-one but yourselves.
I BELIEVE in the pursuit of excellence,
and I'll carry the future with ME.
Well, there goes your Semite, Hugh -
a different god,
a different mountain top.
HAROLD! HAROLD! HAROLD!
We're in! All of us - you, Henry, Andy and me - we're in!
You, 100 and 200. Andy, 400 and hurdles. Henry the mile, and me, the steeplechase!
Paris, here we come!
Liddell's picked too. Rivals under the same flag!
Your chance to get even, eh! I can't wait.
Welcome to Dover, me Lord Birkenhead.
Are the Americans so well trained that they'll wipe the floor with us?
It's certainly true the Americans have prepared seriously,
but we may, in our unsophisticated way, have their match.
AMERICAN: Do you think you British have the match of Paddock and Scholz?
You Americans have a number of men who are rated as world beaters,
but this contest is in EUROPE, not America.
Parisian conditions are bound to be more robust, more combative and certainly more cavalier.
Are the Yanks so professional they will wipe the floor with us?
Gentlemen, Abrahams, Liddell and Lindsay can give them a run for their money.
CHEERING
Eric!
Sandy! You haven't come from Scotland to see me off?
No, I'm coming. No. We'll miss the boat.
Good luck, Mr Liddell.
Thank you.
Mr Liddell, what are your chances against Abrahams? I'll do my best, I can do no less.
But what about the qualifying heats on Sunday?
What did you say? On Sunday. Can you beat the Americans?
Mr Abrahams, there he is!
Harold! Hello, Jeremy. Gilbert and Sullivan'll win. Thanks.
Harold... Sybil.
I came to wish you luck. I'm glad.
I understand.
I wanted you to know that.
I'll be here...
when you come back.
SHIP'S HOOTER BLARES
HURRY ALONG, MR ABRAHAMS!
I must go.
See you in three weeks.
Bye-bye.
Mind your step, sir, we want you to get there in one piece.
When did you get to know?
It's in the papers today. The heats for the 100 are on Sunday.
The semis and final a couple of days after.
It's only a heat.
Does it make all that difference?
Yeah.
Yeah, it does.
And strong...
strong though the temptation may be to disport your finery around the streets of Paris,
if they aren't temptation enough -
I ask you to save your sartorial splendour until at least...
after the Opening Ceremony. May I remind you
you are the favoured few, without doubt the most powerful
athletic force ever to leave these shores. You are to face the world's best,
brown and yellow, white and black,
young and ardent, fleet of foot and strong of limb,
from every CIVILISED nation on the face of the earth.
I have no doubt
that you will acquit yourselves honourably and with distinction.
Good luck to you all.
JENNIE: "Your mind's not with us any more. It's full of sprinting and medals."
"It's so full of running, you've no room for standing still. Jennie, don't fret yourself."
"I do fret myself, Eric. I'm frightened for you. I'm frightened of what it all might do to you."
"D'ye know what day it is? Yeah, Sunday."
"The Sabbath's not a day for playing football."
BIRKENHEAD: It's an awful step, Liddell. The whole of Britain will be watching you.
I don't know they'll understand.
I'm not sure that I understand.
I'm not sure that I do either, sir.
For the last three years I have devoted myself to my running, just to be on this ship.
I gave up my rugby, my work has suffered.
And I've deeply hurt someone I hold VERY dear.
Because I told myself, if I win...
I win for God.
Now I'm sitting here destroying it all.
But I have to.
To run would be against God's law.
I was mistaken.
My boy, as things stand you must not run.
But I want you to hold your fire for a while, Liddell, and leave things to me.
Say nothing. Wait until we get to Paris.
I'll have a word with the French.
I'm not without a certain pull.
We fought together, they do owe us something. I don't understand.
They're not a very principled lot, the Frogs.
But...erm...when faced with a stand like yours, one never knows, I might get through.
I just might POSSIBLY persuade them.
The French, sir. What can THEY do?
Shift that bloody heat of yours, of course.
Good evening.
Goodnight, sir.
GILBERT AND SULLIVAN MUSIC ON THE PIANO
# With cat-like tread Upon our prey we steal
# In silence dread Our cautious way we feel
# No sound at all We never speak a word
# A fly's footfall Would be distinctly heard
ALL: # Come, friends, who plough the sea
# Truce to navigation Take another station
# Let's vary piracy
# With a little bur-gla-ry. #
"I wish you could see, Ma, the wonderful spirit now that we've left England."
"Harold with his beloved Gilbert and Sullivan."
"We're relaxing and chatting about anything. Anything but running."
"We're here for Britain, and we know it."
"I'm here for you, Ma. You and Pa, I hope I do you proud."
"There's not a chap amongst us who isn't ready to burst his heart for all we've left behind."
Attention!
BAND PLAYS # THE ANIMALS CAME IN TWO BY TWO
# THE STARS AND STRIPES #
THE CINEMA PIANO PLAYS "THE STARS AND STRIPES"
("American champions arrive...
(in France.")
Ssssssh!
# YANKEE DOODLE DANDY #
(There's Paddock...
(Charles Paddock...
(There's Fitch.)
My God!
(And there's Scholz. Yes, that's Scholz all right.)
(A bit more my size. Mean with it, though. 10.4.)
(Got your plate full there, Harold.)
(Battle on your hands, what!)
(Charles H Paddock and Jackson Scholz...
(the fastest men in the world.)
PUSH IT, PADDOCK! COME ON, PUSH IT!
ONE TWO, ONE TWO, ONE TWO...
COME ON, CHARLIE!
KEEP DOING IT LIKE THAT!
HEY, SCHOLZY, GIVE THOSE BRAINS A DUSTING!
APPLAUSE
Nous jurons etre venus a ces Huitiemes Olympiades...
animes par le respect des reglements qui les gouvernent
et desireux de participer pour la gloire de nos pays et a l'honneur du sport.
WOMAN SINGS THE FRENCH NATIONAL ANTHEM
Good luck, Andy.
Good luck, Harry.
Monty.
BANG
Your Highness, may I introduce Mr Tom Watson from New Zealand?
How do you do? You've come a long way.
I'm at Oxford, sir. That's why I'm here.
Very economical, but can you run?
I'll give it a try, sir.
That's the spirit.
< APPLAUSE
Royal benediction, no less! We couldn't do without him!
Hear hear. Henry V and all that!
Protocol, Monty, protocol.
He's here to show us what MAY be done and, more essentially, may NOT be.
Jackson Scholz, how do you do?
I'm Eric Liddell.
Well, we've heard a lot about you. Good to meet you at last.
Ah, Liddell!
Excuse me.
I was afraid you weren't here. I'm afraid I am, sir!
It'll do you good. Take you out of yourself a bit.
The Prince of Wales would like to meet YOU.
No...No...
No, sir, it wouldn't be right. 'Liddell...'
He IS your future King. Are you refusing to shake his hand?
Does your arrogance extend that far?
My arrogance, sir, extends just as far as my conscience demands.
Fine.
Let's hope it's wise enough to give you room for manoeuvre.
All right, sir.
Splendid. I'll take you to him now.
Your Royal Highness, may I present Eric Liddell?
Delighted, Liddell, delighted.
I saw you play for Scotland. Ran a couple of tries from your own half.
I believe I did, sir, yes.
Nice to have you on the same side at last.
Excellent effort of Lindsay's, don't you think? He did well, sir, he did. An example to us all.
Eric, may I introduce His Grace, the Duke of Sutherland, President of our Olympic Association?
And our Chairman, Lord Cadogan.
Have a seat.
Make yourself comfortable.
Cigar?
No! Of course you DON'T... NOR drink.
Such is the resolution of the young man you have before you, gentlemen.
Lord Birkenhead has advised us as to your attitude towards participating in the 100-metres heats, Liddell.
Or would your NON-participation be more accurate? It would, sir.
We were consulted
about approaching the French...
We just CAN'T allow it.
Going cap-in-hand to the Frogs, of ALL people. Out of the question!
A simple matter of national dignity, Liddell. I'm sure you understand.
I felt it was impractical. Why didn't you SAY so?
As an athlete, you value economy of effort. I wanted to run. I was desperate enough to try anything.
Well, all that being understood,
we decided to invite you in for a little chat to see if we can help resolve the situation.
There's only ONE way to resolve it - the man changes his mind and RUNS.
Don't state the obvious, Cadogan. We must explore ways to HELP this young man REACH that decision.
I'm afraid there are no ways, sir.
I won't run on the Sabbath and that's final.
I intended to confirm this with Lord Birkenhead tonight before you called me up to this inquisition.
Don't be impertinent, Liddell. The impertinence lies, sir, with those who seek to influence my beliefs.
No Liddell, we're appealing to your beliefs in your country and King,
your loyalty to them.
Hear hear.
In MY day it was King first and God after.
And the War bitterly proved your point.
God made countries. God makes kings...
and the rules by which they govern.
And those rules say that the Sabbath is his.
And I, for one, intend to keep it that way.
PRINCE: 'Mr Liddell, you're a child of your race,
as I am -
we share a common heritage, a common bond, a common loyalty.
There are times when we're asked to make sacrifices for that loyalty.
Without them, our allegiance is worthless. As I see it, for you...
THIS is such a time.
Sir...
God knows I love my country.
But I can't make that sacrifice.
KNOCK ON DOOR
Come in.
Your Royal Highness, Lord Lindsay.
Your Royal Highness, Lord Cadogan, gentlemen...
I apologise for barging in, but I am fully aware of Eric's dilemma.
I wondered if I could be so bold as to suggest a possible solution.
Do.
Yes...
Another day, another race.
What the HELL's that mean?
It's very simple, sir.
The 400 metres.
It's on Thursday. I've already got my medal, so why don't you let Eric take my place in the quarter?
SUTHERLAND: I think that's a splendid idea.
Can we allow him to change events at such short notice?
That's a matter for the Committee.
We ARE the Committee.
I think it's a very good idea.
David?
All those in favour say 'Aye'.
Aye.
Liddell?
Andy, I... A pleasure, old chap.
Just to see you run.
Aye.
PRINCE: Well, that's settled.
(A sticky moment, George.)
(Thank God for Lindsay. I thought he had us beaten.)
(He DID have us beaten, FE,
and thank God he did.)
(I don't quite follow.)
Well, the 'lad' is a true man of principle and a true athlete.
His speed is a mere extension of his life, its force.
We sought to sever
his running from himself.
For his country's sake, yes.
No sake is worth that, FE, least of all a guilty national pride.
"Lindsay makes way for Liddell."
"400 metres for defecting Scot. Smacks of fanaticism, says official.
"Man of principle, says Primate. We should be proud."
< APPLAUSE
So that's the Olympic Stadium? That's it, Sam.
As good as being there, isn't it? Better! As I'm persona non grata.
Yeah...
Tip-top. You've done a grand job. If we don't win now, we never will.
Have I got everything you need, Sam? Ah...
Yes...
All we need now is Sunday!
FAINT ORGAN MUSIC
My text this afternoon is taken from Isaiah, Chapter 40.
"Behold,
"the nations are as a drop in the bucket...
"and are counted as the small dust in the balance.
"All nations before Him are as nothing.
"They are counted to Him less than nothing...and vanity."
"He bringeth the princes to nothing;
"he maketh the judges of the earth
as a vanity."
"Hast thou not known?"
"Hast thou not heard...
"that the everlasting God, the Lord, the Creator...
"of the ends of the earth, fainteth not, neither is weary?"
JUVENILE!
This is what we call Olympics.
Right, pull it in. (I KNOW, Sam.)
"He giveth power to the faint,
"and to them that have no strength
"He increaseth might."
"But they that wait upon the Lord
"shall renew their strength;
"they shall mount up
"with wings as eagles."
"They shall run
"and not be weary."
"They shall walk...
"and not faint."
Do you remember when we first bumped into each other, old man?
We shared a taxi, remember?
You made me feel an age old, burdened, sour...
even superior. Ha!
That was THE miscalculation of my life.
You, Aubrey...
are my most complete man.
You're brave...
compassionate...
kind.
A content man...
that's your secret.
Contentment.
I'm 24 and I've never known it.
I'm forever in pursuit and I don't even know what I'm chasing.
Aubrey, old chap, I'm scared.
Sam and I, we've laboured, rowed and bullied for this...
day in, day out.
You've seen us, chuckled at us, I'll be bound, out in all weathers.
Madmen.
And for what?
I was beaten out of sight in the 200
and let Paddock trick me in the semi.
And in ONE hour's time I'll be out there again.
I'll raise my eyes and look down that corridor...
four feet wide, with ten lonely seconds to justify my whole existence.
But WILL I?
Aubrey, I've known the fear of losing...
but now, I'm almost too frightened to win.
"Dear Mr Abrahams,
"You must pardon my not coming to see you run,
"much as I would like to do so.
"However, I believe and hope you WILL win
"the 100 metres."
"Go out determined to do your best, and don't forget -
"drop down at the first stride.
"Get well warmed up
"and then let the gun release you."
"I should use the springy old six-spike shoes."
"All the best of luck,
"from yours truly, Sam Mussabini."
"PS. Please accept the charm -
"my old father swore by it."
BAND PLAYS FANFARE
No regrets, Eric, that you're not down there with them?
Yeah.
No doubts, though.
Your Highness, Mr Bowman of the United States.
Mr Bowman.
Mr Murchison.
Mr Watson, whom I believe you know.
Mr Watson, how are you?
Very well, sir.
Mr Paddock.
Mr Paddock, dinner for your team at my club in London -
if you win, I pay -
Abrahams wins, you pay.
All right?
Sir, you have yourself a deal.
Done. The best
of luck.
And to you too, sir.
Mr Scholz.
Scholz.
And this, of course, is our Harold Abrahams.
Good luck. Thank you, sir. Do your best. That's all we can expect.
Good luck, Abrahams. Thank you, sir.
COME ON, CHARLIE!
CROWD: CHAR-LIE! CHAR-LIE! RAH RAH RAH!
CHARLIE! CHARLIE! RAH RAH RAH!
Pret.
Head down.
Watch the first stride. Go for release.
BANG
EXPLOSION OF CHEERING
ECHOES
Premier ...mier....mier...
Numero quatre-cents dix-neuf, Abrahams, Grande Bretagne.
Dans dix secondes, trois-cinquiemes.
Seconde, soixante-quatorze,
Charles Paddock, Etats Unis.
THE BAND BEGINS TO PLAY "GOD SAVE THE KING".
(HAROLD!)
My son...
HAROLD!
Sssh! Leave him. Can't you see he's whacked?
But he won! Exactly!
Now, one of these days, Monty, you're going to win, and it's pretty difficult to swallow.
KNOCK ON DOOR
Come in.
Mrs Abrahams just rang, miss.
The Daily Express phoned from Paris.
Mr Harold...he WON!
She told me to tell you, he won!
Thank you very much, Bill.
'Oh, it's 15 minutes to curtain up, miss.'
He did it, sir.
Thank you, Matthews.
"Abrahams triumphant.
"Caius College athlete wins Blue Riband at Games."
Just as I expected.
You've always thought yourself a ruthless man, haven't you? Hard. A bit of a loner, like me.
But you're actually as soft as a limp pocket.
And you care.
You care about things that really matter.
If you DIDN'T, I wouldn't have come
within a mile of you.
D'you know who you won for out there today? Hmmm?
Us!
You and old Sam Mussabini.
I've waited 30 bloody years for this!
Pardon, messieurs, il faut partir maintenant. C'est trois heures du matin.
Oh.
Harold!
It means the world to me, this, y'know.
AND IF ALL THE WORLD CAN DO IS TO WANT TO GO HOME TO BED, THEN THEY CAN GO TO HELL!
Because we've had today, you and me,
and we've got it for keeps.
Now it's OUT of your system.
Go home to that girl of yours and start some bloody living. Yes?
To Sam Mussabini! Ohhhh...
The GREATEST trainer in the world!
Now let's get some more. Tell him. Come on, Sam, we're going HOME.
TANNOY: Le final des 400 metres plat. The final of the 400 metres.
"Taylor, Etats Unis..."
Good luck.
I don't expect I'll see you until after the race.
What's the deal with this guy, Liddell?
No problem, he's a flyer. He's had two races today already, he'll die.
Just swing along, you guys, and wait.
After 300 metres, rigor mortis sets in.
You'll pull him in on a rope!
Good luck, Taylor.
Watch Liddell.
Coach says no problem.
He has something personal to prove. Coach would NEVER understand.
CROWD CHANTS: USA, USA, USA...
< Jennie!
"It says in the old Book, 'He that honours me
"'I will honour.'
"Good luck, Jackson Scholz."
BANG
"So where does the power come from
"to see the race to its end? From within."
Come on, Liddell!
"Jennie...I believe God
"made me for a purpose."
"He also made me FAST."
"And when I run, I feel his pleasure."
TANNOY ECHOES FAINTLY ABOVE THE CHEERING: "Premier, Liddell, Grande Bretagne."
"Dans quarante sept secondes trois cinquiemes."
CHOIR: # And did those feet in ancient time
# Walk upon England's mountains green?
# And was the Holy Lamb of God
# On England's pleasant pastures seen? #
# And did the Countenance Divine
# Shine forth upon our clouded hills?
# And was Jerusalem builded here
# Among those dark Satanic Mills? #
# Bring me my bow of burning gold...
Well, Andy,
he did it.
What's that, old boy?
He ran them off their feet.
# Bring me my spear! O clouds, unfold!
# Bring me my chariot of fire
# I will not cease from Mental Fight
# Nor shall my Sword sleep in my hand
# Till we have built Jerusalem
# In England's green and pleasant land. #