20. STREETS AND BLOCKS OF FLATS
[Split reality scene. Eric carries out his deliveries in various locations, from shops, terraces to high-rises. As he plods along in his routine Cantona accompanies him, as a friend might do. Cantona, of course, is only present for Eric – no one else. When Eric is with other people in the street or at a door, Cantona is not there. But if Eric is in the stairwell of a high-rise, there should be casual chat between them.]
They are mid-conversation about some of his best goals. Eric remembers them all, while Cantona struggles.
ERIC
Remember that one against Aston Villa?
CANTONA
No…
ERIC
Right…West Ham? Your third season?
CANTONA
No…
And so it continues between the deliveries.
As they climb a high zigzagged stairwell Cantona gives him a hand with the letters sticking them through the post boxes.
ERIC
…must have been amazing…fifty thousand all watching you…cheering…chanting your name!
CANTONA
Scary…
ERIC
You! Scared!…Never!
Cantona turns to him.
CANTONA
Scared it might stop…
Eric looks at him. He stops in his tracks.
CANTONA (CONT’D)
I loved to surprise the crowd…I tried to offer them a gift…Sometimes it wouldn’t happen… but sometimes it did. I could feel the energy! Fifty thousand souls connect…a magic moment…Woom!
ERIC
In our minds for ever…
CANTONA
But I had to surprise myself first…take a risk…depends on the limits you set yourself… play safe…and no gift…
They both sit on a step.
ERIC
Remember Sunderland?
Cantona smiles.
Sound of football chants from thousands.
FADES INTO FLASHBACK:
That wondrous goal and moment of sheer elation. [Cantona dribbles round two players in midfield – crowd roars in expectation – lays it off to McClair who slots it back. Cantona looks up and chips a swerving beauty over the goalkeeper which hits a sweet spot just inside the top corner.] The crowd roars as Cantona struts.
FADE BACK TO THE STEPS:
ERIC (CONT’D)
[Savouring] Beauty…‘Magnifique’ [Cantona glances at him impressed]…Like a dance… Kept me going for months that goal…it fills you up so much you forget all the rest of the shit in your life for a few hours…
CANTONA
I’m glad you remember…
ERIC
I miss the games…only place you can let rip without being arrested…shout…scream… laugh…
CANTONA
Even cry…and see Englishmen kiss…
ERIC
Where else can you sing? [Pause] Right… sweetest moment ever?
Cantona smiles to himself.
CANTONA
Sweetest…[thinking] It wasn’t a goal…
ERIC
Must have been!…Last minute…Cup final against Liverpool?…Victory away to Newcastle…caught them and won the league…It’s got to be a goal Eric.
Cantona shakes his head.
CANTONA
No…it was a pass…
Eric thinks. A moment of realisation. His face comes to light.
ERIC
My God…to Giggs against Leeds!
More roars from a crowd…
FADE TO FLASHBACK OF THE PASS AND GOAL
CANTONA
I knew how fast he was…his good side…it came in a flash…just flicked it with the outside of my boot…surprised everyone…He took it in his stride and my heart soared…
ERIC
A gift…
CANTONA
Like an offering…to the Great God of Football…
ERIC
And if he had missed?
CANTONA
You have to trust your teammates…always. If not…we are lost.
A moment between them.
ERIC
Must have been tough after you were banned…nine months! Bastards…
FLASHBACK – REAL NEWS FOOTAGE:
Cantona does his karate kick. ‘He’s in deep trouble now.’
Media circus on his way to court. Journalists hound him, and even a line from John Major.
Cantona runs round an empty pitch absolutely alone.
CANTONA
I hard to work hard…dig deep inside. I needed something to fill me up when I was on my own…something to aim for…
ERIC
Funny…sometimes we forget you are just a man…
Cantona turns to look at him. Deadly serious.
CANTONA
I am not a man…I am [pause] ‘Cantona’.
A moment between them. Eric realises he’s taking the piss and both burst out laughing.
ERIC
But what did you do to keep yourself going?
Pause.
CANTONA
I learn the trumpet.
They both laugh.
ERIC
Trumpet!…[shaking his head] having me on Eric…
Cantona, with a twinkle in his eye, grabs his holdall. Eric is stunned to see Cantona pull out a trumpet, put it to his lips, and very very badly, but recognisably, all fingers and thumbs, begin to play the Marseillaise.
Eric laughs at Cantona’s red puffed-out face.
Sudden sound of door being snapped open.
An old woman suspiciously stares down at the lone figure of Eric on the steps in front of her.
WOMAN
What’s wrong with you? Muttering away like a pervert! Are you on strike?
