Murray in danger of no longer being funny

ANDY Murray risks losing his status as a byword for risible mediocrity.

The increasingly efficient Scot has seen his comedic form dip as he continues to make the final stages of competitions without falling over anything or having bits of his body drop off and explode.

Murray said: “Hopefully I’ll get wrapped up in the net, flapping about like a big, sulky dolphin. Or maybe I’ll just deliver a forehand smash to my own testicles.

“If I reach the final people may start thinking of me as an actual tennis player.”

He added: “I’m the fourth best in the world and while I’m in no danger of winning anything that matters, I do seem to have reached the point where I’ve stopped being laughable.

“Even being fifth would be funnier – constantly just missing out on semi-finals would be tragically comic.”

Experts have blamed Murray’s woeful comedic form on coach Ivan Lendl, who won Least Cheerful Man in Tennis for six years in a row in the 1980s.

Lendl stressed that he wanted to pass on his biggest strength to Murray – a fantastic inability to win Wimbledon.

He added: “In my day, bittersweet comedy wasn’t in fashion so when I won everything except Wimbledon people just saw it as something terribly sad, rather than an enormous cosmic punchline.

“I want to turn Andy into a trophy-capturing automaton that gets to the Wimbledon final every year and goes two sets up before turning into a dyspraxic jumble of pale, hairy limbs.

“It’s going to be fucking hilarious.”

 

Annual six-week soap opera break triggers usual moaning

THE yearly six-week break in the soap opera season is causing the usual widespread grumpiness among fans of popular drama.

Unlike football, which has been continuously on air since 1960, soap operas have a yearly hiatus during which actors and scriptwriters can recharge their batteries.

The break also allows soap fans to take an active role in actual forms of human discourse which do not involve repeatedly asking, ‘and what’s that supposed to mean?’ Without such a break, it is feared that soaps could degenerate into a frontal lobe-deadening grind of sturm und drang and joyless intrigue with no ultimate resolution.

Soap addict  Emma Bradford said: “I hate this time of year. What am I going to watch? Celebrity Cash In The Attic? May The Best House Win? Wimbledon?

“Why don’t I just pull up a chair and watch the freezer defrost?”

Her 28-year-old boyfriend Stephen Malley said: “It’s like this every year – you’d think it was the end of the world, not the end of the soap season.

“Lord forbid she should pay some attention to me, for a change. Never mind Sharon or Zak’s feelings, what about my feelings?

“That said, I do like to watch soaps sometimes just to ogle their legs, even if I don’t understand what’s going on.”

Emmerdale fan Roy Hobbs said: “Football fans are completely ignorant about the basics of soap. They understood what was actually going on, they might enjoy it.

“Now they’re talking about winter soap breaks. I don’t think I could face Christmas without getting to watch a familiar character drop prematurely dead to the distant, ironic sounds of seasonal celebration in the pub.”