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Tuesday, 11 September 2012


From 9 July 2012:
Based loosely on the format of the song The Scottish Soldier...........
There was a player,
a Scottish player
who came across as dour
on the tough tennis tour,
he’d grump and smoulder
with good broad shoulder
he fought in many a set
and sometimes won.

His chance at glory
was the Wimbledon story,
a battle glorious, a tad laborious,
he lost the prize, tears in his eyes
but won the hearts of all who cheered him on.

You see his driving force is to find the guts,
no ifs, ands and buts, just a sportsman’s guts,
and when he wipes away that final tear, have no fear,
he’ll have next  year,
to fight in many a game and fight to win.

From 5 August 2012
There was a player,
a Scottish player
to the Olympics came
to play a tennis game,
he proved much bederer
than Roger Federer,
he toiled and lo behold,
he won the gold.

His chance at glory,
great GB story,
sublime, victorious, perfect and glorious,
he claimed the prize, joy in his eyes,
another legend, London 2012.

From 11 September 2012
There was a player,
a Scottish player,
no more an also-ran,
he won a Grand wee Slam
there's no more mopin'
he won the Open
by beating Djokovic,
he fought and won.

After years of frowns,
of ups and downs,
this is the best of years,
triumphant smiles and tears,
he scotched the doom,
erased the gloom
in this his purple patch,
game, set and match.

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