Endgame

THE Diary was sad to hear of Andy Murray’s retirement.

Though it’s good news for all those snooty English tennis commentators, who can now happily forget the mighty Scotsman ever dominated the Wimbledon turf, meaning they can return to their factory settings of eulogising Tim Henman, the chap who never quite won anything of note. (Though he always lost with such grace and aplomb.)

In truth, Murray was the genuine class act. Even the way he announced the end of his career on social media showed his playfulness and wit, when he informed his followers: “Never even liked tennis anyway.”

(His mum, Judy, replied: “Me neither.”)

Murray will now have more time on his hands for relaxing and enjoying the good things in life, such as quaffing champagne, lounging on the sun-kissed beaches of the world, and, of course, reading The Herald Diary, where he’ll be entertained by thrilling stories, such as the following classic yarns from our archives…

 

Souper expensive

THE scene is a butcher’s shop in Pollokshields, many years ago, where a wee Govan wumman has paused to purchase a ham end.

Normally she’d have bought it at her local shop, but had been visiting relatives in Pollokshields, and found herself in these slightly more upmarket premises.

The butcher duly wrapped up her bit of ham and asked for a sum of money adjacent to £2.

The Govan lady, used to paying something closer to 50p, said: “No thanks, son. It’s for making soup, no for ma display cabinet.”

 

The numbers racket

ONE school pupil decided that religious education was a complete waste of his precious time and consequently paid little attention in class.

His exasperated teacher told him to stand up and tell the class the Ten Commandments.

The pupil hesitated so, to help him, teacher said: “In any order you like.”

So the desperate pupil finally stuttered: “8, 6, 10, 1, 4, 9, 5, 2, 7, 3.”

 

A fishy tale

OVERHEARD at Asda, Linwood.

A man perusing a can of ‘dolphin friendly’ tuna tells his wife: “Get this wan – thur’s nae dolphins in it.”

 

Up in smoke

A CHAP in an Edinburgh bar having an après-work drink asked his colleagues: “Can I have a fag?”

His mate with the ciggies quite reasonably pointed out to the chap that he had in fact very recently given up smoking.

“Well, I’m in the process of quitting,” explained the first chap, adding: “I’m in the middle of phase one right now.”

When his confused pal asked what phase one was, he replied: “I’ve stopped buying.”

 

Games people play

A TRULY tragic tale.

A Diary reader once told us: “My brother got sent to jail and he did not take it well at all. Refused to eat or drink and cursed at anyone who came near him… that's the last time we play Monopoly with him.”