sport and wager in imperial rome, sir.
you win and your dream comes true. you lose, we're back to bread and butter sandwiches till term's end. what'd he want?
a snap.
come on, you'll read one of your pieces, they'll be begging you to attend.
well let's bloody hope so. it'll be a lonely time without you there.
sentimentality my ass. practicality. where am i going to find a sure thing like you to make book on at bloody oxford?
you hear sutcliffe screwed bartlett's sister when he stayed with them over holidays?
i heard it from bartlett's own lips. he's selling reservations for next holiday. a pound for one night; three pounds for four.
for both of us. took the whole holiday.
you nervous?
christ! i'm about to have a calf. this bloody boer gets lucky, we're in the poorhouse. they reach the double doors. still in closeup, morrie turns to face pk for the first time.
now remember. we're not here to exhibit our wares. we go in, we do the job, we get out. right?
we're in a bloody war here, in
get up! get up!
up! up!
what are you trying to do, bankrupt us? what happened?
christ! if they get caught in here they're dead. what the hell's going on?
well, worry about it later. in case you haven't noticed, this boer bastard is trying to kill you.
yeah?
thank you, god.
here you go, pal. he hands pk the money.
do you know who her father is? professor daniel marais.
so? he's the nationalist party's resident intellectual. the man is one of the architects of this damned system of -- what are they calling it? -- apartheid? he has about as much use for a rooinek englishman rutting after his daughter as the queen does for balls, pardon my french.
maria elizabete marais, seniors cottage, room 22, devilliers school. they don't call it 'fortress virgin' for nothing. you'll never get in.
already have. three-to-one says you don't.
i took a big position you do.
in case you have to bail yourself out.
look, even if the scholarship doesn't come through, my old man said he'd lend you the money.
all right. all right. we'll call it the 'levy carpet emporium scholarship for poor but proud christian gentlemen.' how's that?
god, i hate people who can't be bought.
i don't know. personality disorder.
how do they get away with this?
christ, he's old.
the champeen's manager.
what does it cost for you to train him?
here's for six months in advance. three hundred pounds. solly pushes the money back.
he wants to be welterweight champ of the world.
you like to make book on it?
you name them.
how do you get away with this, mr. g? why don't they close you down? i mean, there are laws about blacks and white boxing each other.
six, seven, eight, nine, ten. that's it.
you wanted to see us, mr. g.?
with who?
a black fighter! they want him to fight a black fighter?
out of the question. not even up for discussion. c'mon, p.k.
you're both out of your minds.
i mean besides getting thrown out of school and into jail, do you know what else happens you do this? he's a pro. the minute you fight him you're a pro.
that's a good career move. risk everything to gain nothing. very sound business sense.
okay. what's going on?
well why don't you tell me what you do know.
for you?
and how did this honor fall on your broad back?
so you did it for them.
and after that?
i can see where 'angel' would be an appropriate title. but it was, uh, this geel piet who was really behind all of it, wasn't it?
man like that should be running a country, not rotting in prison.
beats talking about the weather. you may have heard about me?
do i look that daft?
he means the bank. your boyfriend has a great head for literature but none for finance.
i'm his manager.
you deserted?
where are the men?
i don't see why we have to weigh in. they're going to fight anyway.
look -- he's taking water.
we're in the shit now. nice knowing you, solly.
you're up early, sir.
have to put in the roadwork, sir. you know, keep those legs strong.
we get our knowledge in schools, gideon. we're not born with it.
you have schools.
christ! if someone would have told me this is where i'd be on a saturday night, last term of my senior year, i'd call them batty. you know, you're going to owe me for the rest of your life on this one.
you get the insider friend's rate.
let's get inside before the whole bloody world sees us.
well, i think i'll go.  um.  lay on my back and count the cracks in the ceiling. 'night. nice to see you, maria.
we made it! we made it!
sorry. i couldn't bear the suspense after i read mine. i had to open it. pk looks at his letter.
three months and we're out of here.
what the hell are you talking about?
'dear sir. it is our pleasure to inform you that you have been accepted to matriculate at trinity college, oxford,' etc., etc., etc.
a technicality.
good news travels fast.
we're only teaching them how to read and do sums.
is that really the end of it, sir?
yes, sir. received notification today.
thank you, sir.
what?
what time is it?
can i see it later?
you know, when we get to oxford -- separate rooms.
is there some girl out there waiting for me?
bullshit.
i think you're fooling yourself into thinking the bastards won't
yes. but i'm not the one who has to respect it.
i'm sure he does, but i'd still like to see a big bolt on the inside door.
now! he goes to charge out the door, but to his chagrin the door does not open, locked from the outside.
why are you so bloody stubborn? you don't belong in a south african university any more than i belong in the priesthood. will you take my father's loan?
it's your scholarship. morrie grabs the telegram.
what's your name?
you're not one to talk about names.
what's it say?
they don't want you here any more than they want me.
take the hint. screw the scholarship. come on. let's leave.
where are you going?
p.k., goddammit!