her on the radio.
There's no nursing home.
Too bad about the dust.
She has an allergy?
An allergy? She's out to lunch.
That's what I call love.
Wouldn't you like to be
carried like that in his arms?
No way! He's not a Muslim.
As if that mattered!
It matters! Ask your dad.
You don't ask dad for
everything.
I want to go home to Milos.
Mouse!
Here's the doctor. - How you
are, ma'am?
Come in.
It's just a minor allergy.
Bosnia! SDA!
I'm gonna buy him into every
team,
right up to the national team.
Djukic, get back!
He can't handle this!
He can handle it. Calm down.
Get back when I tell you!
Is that the kid you mean?
Milos Djukic!
Jadranka, come back!
I'm Milos's mother.
Ah, you're the mother!
Milos's mother.
I'm Zurovac.
You may recall, he played for
"Partizan"
when he was a kid.
He's no. 9. - Nice kid.
Yes, but he's very sensitive.
He's Mommy's little boy.
I'm an opera singer.
I'm taking time off
because of a throat problem.
I'm allergic to dust
so I'm here to recuperate.
Go for him!
Close him down!
I'm the only one who understands him.
I know what it's like to play.
Theatre, soccer, it's all the
same.
"All the world's a stage."
Know who said that?
I have no idea.
Sure, you do.
A name that starts with Sh...
Shekularac?
No, a foreign guy.
"All the world's a stage.
"And all the men & women merely
players."
You mean Shuster? - Not at all.
I have no idea.
Shakespeare.
I don't follow the Premier
League.
This is opening night for Milos.
Everything in life is a stage.
But different things happen on
it.
Am I right? - Sure.
Take me, for instance.
When I sing on opening night,
my throat goes like this...
Look at the poor woman.
The things she does for her son!
She's like Mama Juanita.
Let me see. - It's nothing, just
a ball!
That was awful.
You have to hear me in
rehearsal.
What's her problem?
Have you seen the movie, "Mama
Juanita"?
No.
Then you ain't seen nothing.
What's there to see?
Know what I'd do for my mother?
What would you do for your
mother?
I'd fuck half the stadium for
her.
What a generation!
For you, Mama Juanita
I dedicate this song to you
At the break of dawn
This song is heard
For you, Mama Juanita
I dedicate this song to you
Here it comes!
You abnormal fuck!
What's your problem? Let the
ball in!
Let go of my fishing rod,
you motherfucker!
This is going too far.
Goal!
Goal!
Milos!
Bravo! You're the champ!
Ma'am, your "Sh" stands for
"champion"!
The classic champion.
Partizan needs a player like him.
Eso!
Stop the fight!
Leave my son alone!
Leave the kid alone, dopehead!
I'll fucking kill you!
You did it, Milos!
Mommy's coming!
Uncle's coming!
I'm coming, my boy!
Leave it to me, Dad! Please!
You band of fucking
nationalists!
Milos!
Bash that one, he's getting
away!
He's getting away!
Tell me exactly what he said.
He said: "Ma'am, your Milos is
the best.
But you know that already.
Spare me your comments.
Mind if I finish?
Secondly, he said he'd phone
in a week's time.
So why didn't he call?
He said if business didn't
prevent him.
He's a very busy manager.
He said: "Partizan needs Milos."
What more do you want?
Anna Karenina had no allergy.
She was visiting her brother
and she took the train home.
No, Nada, he didn't really have
big ears.
She just didn't love him
anymore.
He was supposed to call last
Monday.
He'll call, don't worry. - He'll
call?
It's been a week already.
Not even Einstein would say
that.
What day is it?
I have no idea. - Saturday.
He'll call, I tell you.
Will he?
If he really needed me,
he'd be calling five times a
day.
Are you crying?
No, I'm not.
Looks to me like you are.
Well, you're blind. - You're
crying.
I want to go back to Belgrade.
I want to play soccer there.
Then go, but don't cry.
And you stop shouting. - Who's
shouting?
You're shouting! - I'm not
shouting.
What's more,
you dragged me out here.
Did I?
And you took me off