|
Paul McCartney at the 1985 Ryder Cup
I WAS kind of, you know, playing around in me studio one day when I took a break to have a sandwich. I always think it's a good idea to have a sandwich at lunchtime, whereas some people okay, prefer a bowl of soup, but in those days Linda and myself were like, dead against the eating of soup.
 Our thinking behind it was this: we didn't like the slurping or the act of dunking the bread in the soup - it was just one of our, like, things - so let's just leave it at that, shall we? Anyway, as I munched on me parsnip and petit pois sandwich, the Ryder Cup came on the telly, which inspired me to pen this:
Ooo-oooh! There's a man called Nicky Faldo
He don't come from Colorado
Nooooo he don't come from Colorado
Otherwise he wouldn't be playing for Great Britain, Ireland
& Europe
Noo-oo way!
(GUITAR BREAK)
(KEYBOARD FLOURISH)
Ooooh, Nickeeeeeeeeeee
Nickeeeeeeeeeeeeee
Nickeeeeeeeeeeeeee
Faldo!
Then this Sevvy guy holes this like monster putt, okay, so I immediately leapt to me feet and began playing the like, keyboards and sang a song - it goes something like this:
Who-woo-whoahhh! Pour me a bevy
Cos here comes Mr Sevvy
Ooh yeah, he's my favourite Spaniard
Whooooooh! He's way-way better than Franco
Way-hayyy! Yeah, way-way-way better than Franco-oh-woah
Or Mussolini
Yeah, he was a real meany
And an Italy-ee-an-neeny
I was, like so inspired by the moment, okay, that I got an overnight bag together, jumped in me car and drove up to the Belfry to watch the rest of the match. Linda packed me a few sandwiches - dandelion and cress, swede and tomato and of course, her speciality, two different kinds of lettuce. Gear!
Unfortunately the Tupperware box containing all me sarnies accidentally fell out of the car window, and I was forced to stop at a service station and eat a mixed grill, a double cheeseburger and half a dozen Pepperamis.
Okay, so it's the final day of the match, and this dude called Sam Torrance was just about to sink the putt to win it for the home team, when all of a sudden I had this really fab idea, so I started strumming my guitar and walking across the green, singing....
(STRUM- STRUM-STRUM )
Whoah, Sam Torrance
Yaay, whooooahh! Sam Torrance
I don't know you from the Gulf of St Lawrence
Yeahhhh
Oh yeah, but now you're a hero
No longer a zero
A bigger name than De Niro
Or Albert Speer-o
Yeaa…
Just as I was getting into the chorus, okay, some big fella started getting really heavy and grabbed me by the scruff of the neck, shouting 'just fuck-off, you annoying c*nt'. I hadn't heard that kind of language since Yoko spilled hot jasmine tea over George Martin's groin at Abbey Road. Nasty business. I wrote a song about it.
As told to Matt Owen
|
