Speech by Keith Judson

Speech Type: Best man
Speech Creator: Keith Judson
Speech Date: May 2002
It's not the 1st time today, I've stood up from a warm seat with a piece of paper in my hand!

I'm sure you'll all agree that was a lovely service this afternoon. Very moving. So much so, even the wedding cake's in tiers. Sorry but the jokes don't get any better. I'm the best man, and for those who don't know me, I'm Keith, by the way. Also known as ‘Keith, can I buy you a drink’. Feel free to come up and talk to me later on, I'll be around the bar area.

<I'd like to propose a toast to the bridesmaids, who are all looking wonderful.>

Well, it's an honour to be Tom & Marie's best man.
As soon as Tom asked me, I thought the only problem would be getting a speech together, as Tom has been a self-confessed ‘mature well adjusted adult’, since he was 17. I knew the stag do would fall into place easily, but I was worried about the speech.
Tom's rarely been the controversial one making an arse of himself, he usually leaves that to us. But I'll do my best.
They say the best man's speech is the worst 5 minutes of the groom's day. The worst 5 minutes of the bride's day, however, comes later on tonight.

I've known Tom since we were about 4, at playgroup. It was about the time City last won a trophy.
First time I met him, there was a sign in the hall saying ‘WET FLOOR’. So he did. We hit it off from there really.

He usually carries around a photo of himself from when he was this age, so he can take it into the barbers and get the same haircut. He has had exactly the same haircut all his life, which he also insists is ‘strawberry blonde’.

Then, down the road to Ribble Drive Primary school, where Tom was a star pupil, top of the class, and on sports day, winning 1st place in the skipping, beating the other girls hands down.
His other talent was hopscotch, so I was always a bit wary of him.
-As far as I know, Marie isn't just a charade to cover up his sexuality.-

The summers were great in those days, every day was boiling hot & sunny, so we'd go playing tennis, cricket, football, coats for goalposts. Apart from the days that he was in the Mayfair cinema, watching Annie, again! Last count he's been to see it 4 times, so far.

After primary school, we went our separate ways, as Tom went to Manchester Grammar school, not just so he could swim naked with the other boys. He actually tries convincing us that it was the rules & regulations, that you had to be naked. But I've since found out that it was just his prerogative.

Then, as the years rolled on, we embarked on our drinking career, which we've always been particularly proud of. We've put a lot of time into it.
Probably done it in the wrong order, starting on the Holts Mild as teenagers, (going in the Grove where they had a singer & organist), moving on to Bitter, then lager.
I'm sure we're supposed to end up on Mild, in Joey Holts pubs, when we're in our sixties.

By this stage, Tom's favourite film (after Annie) was The Godfather, which is partly why Tom & Marie are off to Sicily for their honeymoon. Tom's Mafia name, if you didn't know, is ‘Tommy Two Cans’. ‘Cos that's what he always takes to parties. He doesn't carry them round in a violin case though.
Cheapskate. He once dropped 50p, he bent down that quickly, it landed on the back of his head!

We've had some good holidays together down the years, Torquay, camping in France. But one cold, February weekend in Saltburn, near Middlesbro will live long in the memory.
4 of us went up to visit Jonny's mum, ‘cos we're nice like that. The added bonus being that she owns a pub. We went out on the town and got absolutely hammered.
Me & Jon managed to lose Tom & Ben on the walk back home, so when they hadn't come back half an hour later, we went searching for them.
We headed for the sea front, and when we got to the edge of the cliff, we looked down to the beach.
What a sight! Tom & Ben running naked at the sea. The 2 palest bodies we'd ever seen, arses lit up by the moonlight. Tom's got webbed toes, so maybe he's like Daryl Hannah in Splash and needs to keep his feet wet.
We happened to see where they'd piled up their clothes, so we ran down the track and hid them in the shadows. It was so funny watching them clamber back up the pebble beach, shivering, (in fact, Tom looked particularly cold) begging us for their clothes. We gave them back in the end, and realised I'd dropped all Tom's money, fags, and his watch. Spread across the beach, in the pitch black.
It was impossible to find, and the tide was coming in, so the chances of them being there in the morning were slim. No chance.
But Jonny did manage to win Tom a ladies watch on the pier arcade, to which Tom's never really shown his gratitude. Some people.

A few years later, we flew our respective parents nests, to rent a flat together.
It was a couple of years later when we moved out, that we noticed how disgustingly filthy, greasy & grimy it was, which suited us down to the ground really.
A few months in, and I started noticing bras & knickers hanging on the radiators, so it was relief when I mat Marie, ‘cos I'd started to worry.
Tom & Marie had met at work, and they've always made a great couple. After a while we nicknamed them ‘Tommary’ ‘cos they were that close. It beat Tom's previous nickname of ‘Tom the Tit’ given by the Ostrich barmaid.

Seriously though Tom, Marie is a lovely girl and she deserves a good husband…
Just thank god you married her before she found one.

Aswell as the speech, my other task was to organise the stag do.
We had a fantastic weekend in Edinburgh, at the Robert Burns hotel. But the ‘law of the stag’ prevents me from going into detail. In brief, 13 of us went up in a mini bus, got very drunk for 2 days, Utd won, Liverpool lost, and the waitress at the hotel had a black pudding fetish.
It was a bit cramped at the hotel. James slept with Mike, Jay slept with Phil, and Stuart slept with Jan. Which was strange ‘cos they had a spare bed in their room.
Oh, and a pigeon crapped on my head as we were leaving the hotel.
I'd organised every little detail just for Tom's pleasure.

Last night was a quiet drink, Tom's last night as a single man. We celebrated in style and went to the Ostrich, where we'd lived for so many of our formative years. We stayed off the pickled eggs, as it was the big day today.
I can assure you all Tom was in bed early last night and slept like a baby. He wet the bed twice and woke up every hour crying for his mum.

In trying to prepare for my speech, I read a book recently on weddings.
It said:
• The aisle – it's the longest walk you'll ever take
• The altar – the place where 2 become 1
• The hymn – the celebration of the marriage

I think Marie must have read the same book, ‘cos as she came up the aisle, I'm sure I heard her whispering "Aisle, Altar, Hymn, Aisle, Altar, Hymn"

I'd like to thank Tom & Marie for picking a weekend in close season, & not clashing with the world cup. For which, I'm running a book on, if anyone fancies a wager.

Looking forward to the disco later, where knowing Tom's diverse, varied taste in music, they'll be playing any number of REM songs, from any REM album.

I'll just finish off by saying Tom & myself have been best mates for around 26 years, and you couldn't ask for better mate.
In Marie, he's found his perfect partner and I wish them a very happy future together.

<Toast – Mr & Mrs Shaw>

<<Sit down, wipe brow, drink.>>