Holy Socks

As you might know, my new 'best friend' is a black Cocker Spaniel called Mr Darcy.  I say Spaniel but looking at his feet I think he has a grizzly bear ancestry.  Talking about pets' names, I know someone  who has a cat called Flap Jack - I like that!

Anyhow back to Mr Darcy, who has suddenly taken a real liking to my socks, which is fine, but not so good when I'm wearing them.  It's no joke when a dogs' teeth are attached to your ankle.  So as a preventative measure, I've taken to wearing high ankle boots at all times.

Well I was coming out of the shower the other day, when the door bell rang. I knew it would be the window cleaner to collect his money so I threw a towel round me, and slipped on the boots.  It was the Avon girl!  (I thought they were meant to go 'ding dong')  That's my reputation in the village up the shute.

Talking about embarrassment, I was playing a doubles match a couple of weeks ago, when I felt a sort of irritation around my upper thigh.  At first I thought my shorts were on back to front - I've 'previous' for that - but no everything was where it should be.  So I spent much of the match scratching my rear quarters (a la Rafael Nadal). It was only in the 3rd set that my partner (female / very attractive) noticed I had a clothes peg attached to my shorts.

I remember Sean Connery once saying that you should never be afraid of making an a . . . of yourself.  Well, I'm getting pretty good at it!

What A Difference A Day Makes

Like many true tennis people, I stayed up till 3 on Tuesday morning, watching Andy Murray winning his first Slam.
It was a long time coming, but it was always coming.  He has immense tennis talent - far too good not to be up there with the greats.  So many people doubted Andy, found fault with his image, criticised his on court behaviour.  But at the end of the day, he did the job and the whole nation should applaud him..
Well done Andy - you did us proud!

Murray Magic

Now I'm going to have a little blast at 'Middle England' so don't read on if you're a bit posh or have so called impeccable standards.
The other day I heard a cultured female voice on the radio lambasting Andy Murray - not because of his tennis (she admitted she knew nothing about sport) but because of his image and personality.  Now we all know that Andy is a bit rough round the edges (just like myself), and doesn't come over too well on the telly.  But, I thought to myself, how sad that people are judged purely on their television image.  Of course at Wimbledon time, the once a year tennis 'fans' watch nothing else for two weeks, but for many its eye candy they're after, not to appreciate the quality of tennis.
Andy is a talent we have not seen on these shores for a very long time.  On court, he has a superb range of strokes, a brilliant tactical brain, and his athleticism is now up there with the best.  Off court, he has admirable work ethic and total committment. And you never hear him bad mouthing any of his fellow professionals - he is always quick to praise other players and show utmost respect.
Last week, Virginia Wade described him as 'drama queen'.  Ok so what!  What's wrong with showing emotion, having a few tantrums, and wearing your heart on your sleeve.  Virginia - your time is up - you live in the 'jolly good show' past, of long white trousers and frilly knickers.  It's time to hang up your wooden racket.
Andy Murray meets Roger Federer in tomorrow's final at Wimbledon.  I am not a great Federer fan - he is too ostentatious, self assured, dare I say 'smug'.  But he is one of the greatest players of all time, and Andy will do well to take a set off him.
I hope the crowd will all be behind Andy - he will respond to that.  But whatever happens, he deserves praise and regnition from all quaters (and all classes!)for what he has achieved in the game.

Mr Darcy

Hi folks.  Sorry I've not been around for a few months but so much has been going on.  Sadly my mum died.  She was 99, so at least she saved the Queen a stamp!  Her last drink on this planet was a sherry - good on her.  Everyone who knew her will remember her lovely smile.
Anyhow, before I get too maudling, let me tell you about my new tennis prodigy, named Mr Darcy.  I recognised his talent right away - he went straight for my brand new Asics shoes (I was wearing them) and wouldn't let go.  Since then he has developed a rare skill in untying laces, outwith my knowledge.  So when I stand up my shoe falls off.   Such is his devotion to my tennis shoes, he hides them away - the latest secret store is under my bed - where I've also found a J cloth and a Snickers wrapper.  This dog's got talent.
Not to be outdone by Victoria Azarenka or Maria Sharapova, he has developed a shrieking bark which resonates to jet plane volume as he pursues a ball along the hallway.
Some people were surpised I got a male version.  Well my track record with females leaves a bit to be desired to be honest. I guess we will be likened to Men Behaving Badly or the Likely Lads - feet up in front of the telly, with real ale and pedigree puppy chum crisps. 
Those of you who never read anything apart from the Sun or Hello, will wonder why he's called Mr Darcy.  Well, as in Pride and Prejudice, he is dark and handsome but with a slightly sultry look - a bit like his master in fact.  Enough enough!  I await the arrival of Miss Elizabeth Bennet with great anticipation.
By the way, Mr Darcy is an all back Cocker Spaniel.
This could be the start of a beautiful friendship.

Welcome to February

Ok we've all said it - where did January go to?
For all you 'millions' out there who read my blog - well as a result of public demand (and becoming slightly delusional) I am now on Facebook. So little words of wisdom might appear now and again, which you can take on board or conveniently ignore.
But by all means keep in touch - and hope the year slows down for you!!