Speech by Howard Hunt

Speech Type: Best man
Speech Creator: Howard Hunt
Speech Date: 01/09/2013 22:55:11

Good evening ladies and gentlemen. Wow, I really don't want to lower the tone after those three beautiful speeches.. But I will. My name's Laurie.. I mean Howard.. Sorry the nerves must be getting to me already. My name is Howard and I'm a best man. I was thrilled when Laurie told me that he was planning to ask B to marry him, and felt delighted and proud when he asked me if I would be a best man along with Mike.This is my first time having to do a best man's speech and I'll admit I was pretty nervous at the prospect. So I tried to prepare as best I could and actually felt much more comfortable once I'd rehearsed the speech in front of a live audience down at the local old peoples’ home – I think it went down well – they all wet themselves anyway.Laurie was recently the best man at Mike's wedding, so I asked him if he had any advice at all, and he gave me these words of encouragement: “Just be yourself, How, try and enjoy it, and I tell you what, if you and Mike do a decent job you can be the best men at my next wedding.” To help get some ideas about writing a speech I did what I'm sure most groomsmen do in this situation these days: I had a look on the internet. And I found some really good stuff.. Some of it was vaguely relevant, like: “The term ‘best man’ dates back to the times when Scotsmen kidnapped their future brides and the friend of the groom who helped out the most during the abduction was acclaimed to be the best man” – how romantic. However, some of the stuff I found on the internet was not appropriate at all. Like this, for example.. The Universe is shaped like a vuvuzela. When telephoning Russia, the International Dialling Code is 007. And one in ten European babies is conceived in an IKEA bed. At this point I thought I'd better leave the internet for a while and just tell you how I met Laurie. So I met Laurie when we were 15 in secondary school.. Actually we were 15 everywhere, to be honest anywhere we went that year we were 15.

I had a funny feeling we might be friends when we instantly began an in-depth discussion as to why Arsene Wenger had decided to sell Marc Overmars and Emanuel Petit, two of Arsenal's best players, to Barcelona – a discussion that's still ongoing and doens't look like reaching a conclusion any time soon. So we pretty much hit it off straight away and grew to be really close – strictly platonic of course – though anyone who overheard our conversations might've got the wrong impression as I boasted him that I could go for hours on end without stopping.. Playing the new Football Manager game. At which point Laurie whipped out his massive, long.. List of transfer targets.

Laurie has always been big into sports. In fact, it took weeks of persuasion to convince him not to have a wedding list at the Cardiff City gift shop. To get anywhere in sport, it is very often heard you must always give “110%” and it seems even from a very early age, Laurie took this to the extreme. I'm reliably informed by his sister that if he'd had his own way he wouldn't be sat here as Laurie Thomas at all. No, young Laurie was adamant that everyone should refer to him as “Akabussi Thomas” after his idol, British 400m runner and record breaker, Kris Akabussi.. And surprise, surprise..

Laurie never let his keeness for sport get in the way of his schoolwork, though. In fact, here's the proof – one of his old school reports.. Now, let me see.. Ah yes, here we go..”Laurie is an extremely gifted individual. There is no doubt       in my mind that he will go on to achieve great things. I could never have wished for such a wonderful pupil. Well done my darling, love from Mummy.”

That's right, at school, Claire, Laurie's Mum was our English teacher. In fact, the last time I stood in front of Claire with a speech in my hand she gave me a C – .

In an effort to make amends and impress her today I thought I'd try to include some Shakespearian quotes. But old habits die hard and I only got as far as William Shakespeare's Wikipedia page. Born, April 23rd, 1564 in Stratford-Upon-Avon, son of John Shakespeare.. That's as far as I got. But at that I remembered something I heard recently. It's funny, you don't think of Shakespeare having a Father, do you? Because you don't think of Shakespeare being a child. Shakespeare being 7. I mean, he was 7 at some point. He was in somebody's English class, wasn't he? How annoying would that be? – “Must try harder” – William Shakespeare being sent to bed by his Dad.. “Go to bed NOW.. And put that quill down.. And stop speaking like that.. You do know it's confusing everybody”.

Over the years I've grown to know Claire and Rich really quite well and appreciate their help, kindness and well-stocked fridge. I'd always be popping over to their lovely home for a cup of tea where me and Laurie would swap and share new music. Laurie really loves his music, it's in his blood as they say, and you'll hear so when his Dad's marvellous big band plays a bit later on. Laurie plays some instruments too and I managed to track down one of his old piano teachers. I say “tracked her down” as if it was difficult.. She's my Mum, so it didn't take ages. So, while I was home last weekend, and as she was hoovering the bedrooms upstairs, I thought it the ideal time to shout up to Mum: “Mum.. MUUUUUM! I'm writing a speech for Laurie's wedding, is there anything you'd like to say? It was quite hard to hear her over all the hoovering, but her reply sounded something like: “There's only one thing to say about Laurie – wonderful pianist.”

When we were 16 or 17, me and Laurie went on a holiday to India. It was my first holiday without my parents, so the fact that Laurie had been to the exact same resort the year before with Claire and Rich meant that he was able to show me the best things to see and do. After a delicious Kingfisher beer in the shade of the Full Moon Bar he announced that: “Last time me and Rich went for this awesome Indian head massage, let's go and do that – you'll love it.” With visions of beautiful girls caressing my head I merrily agreed and followed him around the bay.

Unfortunately, Laurie couldn't quite relocate the exact same massage place, but undeterred, he suggested we just go right ahead and pop into the nearest one we could find. So we did. Alarm bells maybe should have started ringing when we stepped inside and Laurie immediately insisted I go first. And alarm bells certainly were ringing loudly in my ears as I turned and sneaked a look at my moustached massuese's calloused hands groping towards my head. 

Then he reached for the peppermint oil – which he decided to liberally smother all over my head, plenty enough so that it dripped down my face. Through streaming, red, squinting eyes I could just about make out Laurie creasing up in the corner of the room trying his hardest not to explode with laughter. But after five or ten minutes and with the end of the ordeal in sight, I was slowly beginning to see the funny side of the situation.

Unfortunately, the peppermint poison was only buttering me up for what was to be the massage man's piece de resistance. My eyes turned from as small as a mouse's to as wide as an owl's when I first heard the high pitched screech of his torturous machine being revved up. I turned in time to see him come at me with what I can only describe as an angle grinder with a flimsy bit of pillow attached to the end. At this point Laurie – my friend Laurie – now unable to contain himself was pretty much on the floor in stitches – thanks mate.

Despite the trauma of that first day I had a brilliant time in India and was actually really grateful for having my mate with me on the trip – a truly unforgettable trip – one that's impossible to forget – mainly because of the dodgy dolphin design tattoo that I've now got on my ankle, which at the time seemed like a fine idea, an idea I'm now adamant was certainly Laurie's and had nothing to do with the delicious Kingfisher beers.

In all honesty though, I can't thank you enough for being such a great friend over the years and I wish you and B every happiness in your future together.

I'll conclude with a very short poem by W.B Yeats. It's called: “He Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven” 

Had I the heavens’ embroidered cloths,

Enwrought with golden and silver light,

The blue and the dim and the dark cloths

Of night and light and the half-light,

I would spread the cloths under your feet:

But I, being poor, have only my dreams;

I have spread my dreams under your feet;

Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.