Come on, Andy!

It's the Wimbledon Men's Final. Andy Murray is playing against Roger Federer. Just by being in this final, Andy has achieved what no other British player has done for 76 years. As I'm writing this, he's down 2 sets to 1, but by no means out...yet. I've reached that age where the glass isn't just half empty, it's also got a dead fly floating in it and a layer of phlegm at the bottom. I no longer have any expectations when it comes to British or English participation in anything. Yes, in my old age, I have become cynical, bitter, spiteful, and a little bit smelly. England competed in the European Championships this year. I didn't expect them to win. Andy Murray is in the Wimbledon final. I don't expect him to win. I hope I'm wrong, though. We have the Olympics in about 20 days. I don't expect us to do too well. I have become my grandfather - a joyless curmudgeon who thinks if you can't say anything bad about something, then you might as well just keep your gob shut. Anyway, come on, Andy. Win Wimbledon and prove me wrong.