Jose say what? A Full Translation of Jose + 10

Here goes the transalation!!!

As the ad opens, Gordito is bored, chilling out in an old arm chair (next to an abandoned car) outside, as Jose bounces a soccer ball off the wall nearby.

Gordito: Jose? Jugamos?/ Jose? Shall we play?

Jose: Si/ Yes.

The scene cuts to the courtyard where Jose and Gordito do their version of "rock, paper, scissors" to see who gets first pick of the players.

Gordito: Pares -- uno, dos y tres!/ Stop -- one, two, three! (They each throw a hand in, Jose loses.)

Jose: Ach!/ Ach! (the international language of frustration). Gordito gets first pick; the players arrive, running in from various angles of the courtyard, some in their native team gear, some more casual.

G: Cisse!/ Djubril Cisse, of France, who is injured for the Cup (broken leg).

J: Kaka!/ Kaka, of Brazil (remember, lots of them go by one name).

G: Zidane!/ Zinedine Zizane (Zizou), of France.

J: Beckham!/ David Beckham, of England.

G: Defoe!/ Jermaine Defoe, who plays for Tottenham, but is not playing for England in the Cup.

J: Kahn! Oliver Kahn, German goal-keeper, who won the "Golden Ball" (ringing Austin Powers?) at the 2002 World Cup.

G: Messi!/ Lionel Messi, of Argentina.

J: Mm, Beckenbauer!

G: . . . [realizing what Jose had just said] Beckenbauer!? ha ha ha ha ha ha ha/ The joke that they're sharing is that Jose has selected the player Franz Beckenbauer -- which sounds like "bake-un-bow-yea" in their idiom -- who was a German star (and former national team manager) from the late sixties and seventies (and an Adidas icon to boot).

Just when they're laughing, however, Beckenbauer turns up, in the era-appropriate kit (and his old number, 5). Oliver Kahn, the current -- and great -- German goalie (in the middle of the photo to the right), is especially dumb-struck, and Beckenbauer approaches him first to shake his hand. Neat moment.

But having cottoned on to the kids' m.o., Zidane whispers in Gordito's ear the name of a French football icon from the late seventies and eighties, Michel Platini -- G: Platini! -- who duly arrives to hug his no. 10 heir, Zidane (i.e., Germans don't hug. . .).

The players are stretching, smiling, and getting to know each other while they warm up, but Jose and Gordito are all business.

G: Oye, Defoe!/ Listen up, Defoe! Gordito throws Defoe the goalie gear, surprising -- and amusing -- because Defoe is a forward; but we've established that these are the kids' teams, as Jose then makes explicit.

J: [the coin toss; Cisse stoops to pick it up; Jose swipes it from his hands] Soy capitan!/ I'm the captain!

G: [calling out to his players behind him] Oye, cuatro cuatro dos!/ Four four two! The standard soccer line up of four defenders, four midfielders, then two forwards, or strikers.

J: [to his team, very seriously] Cuidado Cisse, porque el corre muy rapido . . .vale? vale. / Watch out for Cisse, because he runs very fast . . . All right? All right. (Cisse nods and wags his finger in agreement).

G: [pointing to two players in his backfield] Lampard, Robben, venga, ramos!/ Lampard, Robben, come on, to the wings! (or sides, of the pitch, with a gesture that tells them to switch -- which they do). And that's Frank Lampard of England, and Arjen Robben, of the Netherlands.

The match begins when Jose shoves German player Michael Ballack to the side and says, pita!/ the whistle (has blown), and takes the first touch. I'm not going to call every touch of the match itself (unless pressed).

G:Vengamos! Venga, corre!/ Let's go! Come on, run!

Jose tackles -- okay, trips -- the rapidly advancing Robben, who considers it a foul. Jose shrugs off his protest with a clipped "sorry!" to continue play. . .

J: Aqui, Beckham!/ Here, Beckham! (who produces his trademark bending cross).

Kaka ends up with the ball, advances, shoots, and Defoe -- remember, a forward -- manages to deflect it, with a laugh. Jose, disappointed in Kaka, orders, Tu, al banquillo!/ You, to the bench! -- in which the joke is who benches Kaka?!-- but then he shouts, Duff, ven! / Duff, come! Damien Duff, of Ireland, comes in off the bench. Play continues.

G: Oye, Zidane!/ Hey, Zidane! (whom he passes the ball). Zidane to Cisse. As Cisse heads up the wing, Capitan Gordito yells something I can't make out (he's running, and huffing and puffing); whatever it is, he wants him to cross the ball in . . .

Lampard collects the cross and shoots; the goalie, Kahn, grabs it. G: Gol! Kahn: "Nooooo!" Lampard, and Gordito's team, consider it a goal. Jose and Kahn argue (in their respective languages) over the goal line when . . .

Jose's mother calls from the balcony: Jose!

J: Que?!/ What?

Jose's mom: A casa!!/ Come home! He shakes his head and throws up his arm in disappointment, and heads for home, as the camera pulls back to reveal noone on the "pitch," save for Jose and Gordito, reluctantly exiting their fantasy. . .