Smithy meets the England Football Team | Comic Relief


Singing to the radio (terribly) Plush! Hoohoo, this’ll do! Good mooning, how are we? Alright? I’m Smithy. Heard you had a problem with your pipes. Are these complimentary? (More singing to the radio) “Because I…” Need a piss. Hold on. Can we help you, mate? (Mumbling) Actually, since you asked, erm, you could reimburse my plane ticket I bought to Austria three years ago under the assumption that you might qualify for the euros! JT, to them. Me, budgie, dirt box, Chinese Alan Dino and Dino’s brother all booked that ticket to Austria three years ago because it was inconceivable to us that England wouldn’t qualify for the European Championships! That means without the beer festival the whole thing would have been a waste of time! And yet I still believe in you. I believe in every single one of you. Crouchy. When I look at you everything tells me you should be
rubbish at football and yet you’re brilliant. And you know why? Because of this: The Robot! Yeah? Where’s it gone? You were hitting them right, left, center, all over the park when that was there! I know what’s happened. You’ve started to fear the robot. You’ve got to let the robot fear you. I’m talking like staple, tray service swivel, can, open, drinkity drink drink yeah? What about some of these? A few turns in there? If you score a hat-trick, pull out the
rope, pull out the rope. David James. You’re England’s number one. You are the best you’ve ever been and you know why? Cos you’ve stopped dicking around with your hair! We’ve had it white, red, ‘fro, corn rows okay? Let’s just.. In fact, this goes for the whole team, okay? From now on, we either shave it off or it’s a short back and sides, okay? And Becks, you are not exempt from this. Ashley. You know what, you’re my favourite left back. In the world. And it hurts me to say that, cos I hate Chelsea. Just one question: What the hell’s your missus doing halfway up Mt Kilimanjaro with Gary Barlow and Chris Moyles? She is a footballer’s wife, I’m talking breakfast, lunch, dinner, laundry. If she starts behaving like a proper footballer’s wife you will vast improvements on the pitch. Frank. Frankie. Actually… do you know, um… Oh, do you know, err, do you know Steven Gerrard? Big scouse guy, yeah, he’s got that unfortunate forward hairline? Yeah, always talk like that: (accented mumbling) Yeah, you know him? Yeah, who I’m talking about? You like him? You get on with him? Play like it then! Maybe look up and pass to him every now and then! Okay? ‘Cos you are really good at football, okay? And he is as good if not a teensy bit better. I got time for you Frank. You know that. Shaun. What I what I think we need to work on is raising the profile, you know what I mean? I’m talking clothing line, sports shoe, soft-drink, yeah? Chinese Alan’s brother in law has actually got Danielle Lloyd’s phone number. So, pass that to you, you two (implications) Raise the profile, yeah? Becks, I know you’re cool, gimme five. You and me, we’re Essex boys and proud, you know? You went to the same school as my little sister, so practically related. It’s cool, we’ll text it or go down the pub, whatever you like, yeah? You’re a beautiful man. With a beautiful face. JT. You are the last bastion of the old fashioned English center back. You’re like Terry Butcher with a bandage round your head. Until you miss a penalty! (mocking crying) Right? I’ve had enough of this. We save the tears for home. And that goes for all of us. Football’s not about individuals… Football’s not about solo efforts, it’s about a team. And you know how we make a team work, right? How? I’m glad you asked. I’m glad you asked. David Beckham. You’ve got to hold. And give. And do it at the right time. You can be slow or fast but you must get to the line. They might hit you, they might hurt you, defend, attack, there’s only one way to beat them, And that’s around the back. So stop you if you can ‘cos you’re the England man! And what you’re looking at is the master plan. We’re no hooligans, this ain’t a football song, three lions on our chests, you know we can’t go wrong, we’re singing for England, you’re playing for England! Come on! Come on Crouchy, yeah! Becks, come on! Yes, JT! (shouting) Cheers mate, amazing. Amazing. Thank you for- shhhh You. You talk on the pitch. Now get out of my sight! the

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