'' Phenomenal Irn Bru '' Poem by Bri Mar

Andy's finally gone and done it,
He's proved the sceptics wrong,
A Grand Slam, now at last he's won it,
It will match his Olympic gong.

A battle royal he had to fight,
Against a champion fierce and proud,
But in the end it all came right,
He truly mesmerised the crowd.

The game went one way then the next,
Who'd win was anyone's guess,
The way both played had them perplexed,
It was like a game of chess.

At two sets all Andy took a break,
He had to do a pee,
Feeling like a nervous wreck,
He asked, what's wrong with me?

I'm in a spot of bother here,
If winning is my intention,
I must show Novac I've no fear,
I'll need some divine intervention.

This beguiled his fierce counterpart,
Against Andy he couldn't compete,
It was like a dagger through his heart,
He had to admit defeat.

Novac asked, what was this potion?
That gave you this awesome power,
Was it food or perhaps a lotion?
Whatever it made me cower.

Andy replied in his broad Scots tone,
My tactics I had to review,
After I drank it victory was sown,

‘' It's Phenomonal Irn Bru ‘'