On our favourite Scot

Henmania? Who the f**k was Henman? It's Murraymania now, as the tangle haired, foul mouthed but won't-we-love-him-if-he-wins Scot brushed aside Nadal as if he was just another Spanish Armada.

That Nadal was practically in a wheelchair when he retired is of no relevance. The Mint had it won anyway. Such courage, such tenacity, such a shame he's so obnoxious.

But that's why Tiger Tim never cut the mustard when the chips were down. He was too nice, too worried if his girlfriend was watching him.

Little Andy couldn't give an airborne Donald about what people think, he just wants to win, and win he may well.

Only a bloke called Marian (shouldn't be too hard), and the Fed Express stand in his way. It's common knowledge that Swiss Rog is about to be exposed by the National Enquirer as Tiger Woods in a full body suit, which should distract him just enough for the Dunblane Lobber to sneak past him in 4 sets and claim the crown

If he does, the Wimbledon Committee will breathe a sigh of relief, and be able to abandon their plan to ban foreign nationals in 2011 in a effort to bolster the chances of a first British winner since Fred Pterodactyl in 778000 BC.

Of course, Brits holding both the Ashes and the Australian title at one time will only strengthen calls for Australia to ditch the monarchy once and for all, but who cares. Australians have never understood that the whole point of Australia was to get rid of them in the first place.

So Och Aye de Noo, It's a broad brich moon lich, and Cowdenbeath for the Cup.

Come on, let's here it. Murray, MUrray, MURray, MURRay, MURRAy, MURRAY