There are absolutely no pictures of Andy on the web-so this is the best I could do.
For the biggest sporting event of the year......My morning has been planned around the 13:00 hrs start of what promises to be the highlight of the BBC's Wimbledon coverage. The Final.
As the beef roasts and the cake rests fattened with strawberries, mum and me good self will be chattering non-stop about...Muzza, Fedders, the Great British Nit Wits standing in line in trepidation and precipitation waiting in anticipation for what could be, has to be, the greatest day in Wimbledon's history. Mr H. prob be tea boy.
Blimey Oh Riley matey 'tis a long long time since Fred held the Plate but now, now there's a chance a SLIM chance mind you, that the beanpoley slightly adolescently mega rich Scot will finally leave his mark. 74 years since Fred..long times to wait.
I know I've cursed Andy but it wasn't meant literally, I didn't do anything really evil to make him lose in all his Wimbledon semi-finals but this time, due to maturity and a desperate need for front room excitement/action I'm gagging for a Scottish win.
All my domestic cuties, I mean duties, are in strict must-do order. Firstly veggies, then yorkies then bake the celebratory cake... A Swiss Roll.
Come On Andy!
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