On Friday, 10th January 2025, we held our New Year social at the Newton Rec. There were no murder mysteries like last year (you can see our murder shenanigans from 2024 HERE); instead, we held a poetry competition! This turned out to be a great success and caused many a laugh on the night.
The idea for the poetry competition came to Sarah and me in the Young Farmers tent at the Mid Devon Show. We were inspired by their Olympics-themed poems and thought it might be fun to do something similar for the tennis club social evening – poems inspired by Newton St Cyres Tennis Club. When, by midnight on Thursday, we only had four entries, three of which were mine and Sarah’s, we weren’t so sure anymore! But then everyone woke up and the poems came in thick and fast. In the end, we ended up with 15 wonderful masterpieces – OK, that might be a slight exaggeration 😀 Nevertheless, all the poetic contributions were wonderful in their own way and a huge thank you to everyone who came up with something. Congratulations to Emma who was a deserved winner with her evocative piece 🙂
Another thank you must go to everyone who brought food to share; to Sarah for printing off the poems and taking photos on the night; to Frederiek and Sarah for setting up the room and welcoming people; to Elaine, Frederiek, Val, David and Sally for singing the brilliant tunes inspired by our club.
Here are the poems in the order they came in (except for the winning poem, which deserved top spot :)), along with their authors, and some photos from the night:
(by Emma)
They freeze as a train rushes past
Then spring into action again
Like dancers who don’t know the steps
But move with a grace of their own.
The rooks are up high in the sky
Looking down on the courts in the Rec
At the players who fly to and fro
As the ball hurtles into the net.
It’s tennis for old and for young
For beginners and veterans alike.
It’s active and social and fun
At Newton St Cyres Tennis Club!
DOLLY’S TRAIN RIDE (by Jana)
One hot summer’s day
On Devon’s Tarka line
Rode an old dear called Dolly
Sipping a glass of wine
As Newton St Cyres tennis club
Came into view
Dolly’s ears pricked up
And she shot up from her pew
Out on the courts, in plain sight,
Surrounded by no walls
She spotted eight fine men
And twice as many balls
Was it the wine?
Or the heat of the day?
Did Dolly’s old eyes
A trick on her play?
She yanked down the window
And trying hard not to be rude
She shouted to the chaps
“Are you playing in the nude?”
Horace, serving at the time,
Looked up and gave a little twirl,
“Oh, aye, me lass, we are indeed,
Do you want to be our ball girl?”
(by Sarah)
There was a young man called Mac
He hit the ball with a whack!
His opponents frequently got smacked!
He often got punched back!
(by Sarah)
There was a young man called Stan
Who arrived at the club in a van
He nicked some balls
For his friend with 4 paws
And he was never seen again
NSC Tennis Club Poem (by Jo)
Rusty Rackets is where it all began,
But I have always been a lifelong tennis fan.
In many junior tournaments I played,
But from tennis to rugby I then strayed.
After bumps to the head & the other odd knock,
My husband said rugby had to stop!
Other sports & running I tried,
But none filled the gap of rugby’s social side.
At netball I was deemed too tough,
Giving away penalties for being too rough.
Running with the dog is fun,
But can be lonely as the only one.
So a Rusty Rackets session I tried,
And I soon got back into my tennis stride.
After joining the Signal & WhatsApp groups,
I began to feel part of the NSC tennis club troupe.
My game has improved enough in patches,
To even play some ladies & mixed league matches!
With lunches & drinks at the local pub,
It’s great being part of Newton Saint Cyres tennis club.
Newton St Cyres Tennis Club (by Nicky)
Life was busy. “But something is missing” I thought
I was racking my brains and then realised it was sport
My family said “What about tennis? You used to play”
And so I decided I would find a way
I felt apprehensive as I knew I’d be rusty
I dug out my racket; it was ancient and dusty
Apprehensive I went along to a club night
And was pleasantly surprised that it went alright
I got over my nerves and I even had fun
Members were friendly; I got to know everyone
I became more involved with league and the ladder
Any opportunity to play, it really didn’t matter
Oh Come All Ye Faithful (to Newton St Cyres Tennis Club) (by Elaine)
Oh come all ye faithful, joyful and triumphant
Newton St Cyres – it’s the best club in town.
Co-me and play with us – you just might find angels.
Oh how we all adore it
Oh how we all adore it
Oh how we all adore it – our tennis club.
Bless the committee, wo-rking their socks off.
Thanks be to kindly folk who sweep and blow the courts.
Sun, ra-in, wind and hail, nothing damps our spirits.
Oh how we all adore it
Oh how we all adore it
Oh how we all adore it – our tennis club
Oh balls, we will hit ye at matches and club sessions,
Ah such a challenge for us mere mortals here.
Drop shots and banter, can we keep the score correct?
Oh how we all adore it
Oh how we all adore it
Oh how we all adore it – our tennis club
Our hut is perfection, now it has a toilet
No need to cross your legs when keys disappear.
Playing is heaven, just watch out for cricket balls.
Oh how we all adore it
Oh how we all adore it
Oh how we all adore it – our tennis club.
Serve, drive and volley, chip in exultation.
Play all ye members for love of the game.
Glory to tennis, we’d be lost without it.
Oh how we all adore it
Oh how we all adore it
Oh how we all adore it – our tennis club.
Ode to Newton St Cyres Tennis Club (by Helen)
In the heart of Devon where the meadows stretch wide,
Lies two courts of camaraderie, in which we take pride.
Next to the railway trains stop us in our play
We may even brighten the passengers’ day.
In Newton St Cyres with its own special weather
It’s raining at home but in Newton it’s better.
The courts are our haven of sanctuary and cheer,
Where laughter and banter ring loud and clear
What better way to spend one’s day
Hitting a ball to keep it in play.
Winning or losing – playing left or right
We keep coming back for more day and night.
Our A team are superstars who we rarely see
They win all their matches but then they flee
Our B team are stalwarts of the court
Playing well and keeping matches short
Our C Team don’t win much but they try very hard
Soon to be relegated caught off their guard.
Val chairs our committee with wisdom and flair
Dave keeps the courts maintained with such good care.
So, here’s to our club where we all have fun
The social occasions that are so well run.
We love to play tennis in the beautiful grounds
Then it’s off to the Beer Engine for multiple rounds.
My Tennis Week (by Penny)
On Monday I might play with Val,
On Tuesday I play with a Pal.
On Wednesday with Sally,
On Thursday I Rally,
But Friday with Dave is my Fave!
Saturday’s rest should make me my best, for
Sunday with friend Frederiek.
If I play in a league I suffer fatigue
No wonder……
it’s been quite a week!
(by Sally)
There is a small club in Mid Devon
Where tennis is absolute heaven
Its members are great
The views are first rate
Just hope for more players than seven!
(by Sally)
There is a small club in the south west
Where playing tennis is really the best
Fresh air, sport and chat
What could be better than that?
Plus a drink in the pub with much jest
Ode to Newton St Cyres Tennis Club (by Sally)
To be sung to the tune of Oh My Darling Clementine
In a corner of Mid Devon
Playing tennis rain or shine
Live the members of Club Newton
Of all ages, all quite fine
Great they are and play with pleasure
Hitting balls both fast and slow
Social tennis and league matches
C’mmittee members on the go
Cutting hedges, painting clubhouse
Working hard to maintain club
Love the tennis and the friendships
And sometimes going to the pub
Amusing banter on the phone app
Whilst arranging session time
Phone keeps pinging, is it vital?
Or just another witty rhyme
How I’d miss them, how I’d miss them
How I’d miss forehand and lob
Have to hope I keep on playing
Fingers crossed I’ll be like Rob!
(by Dave)
There was a young lady from Sweden
Some new tennis shoes she was needing
So she tried on a pair
Said: “these won’t do; I swear
For it smells like they have been peed in!”
(by Val)
We’ve won the toss, what shall we do?
Serve into the sun then have that end for two?
15 – love, 30 – love, it’s all going well
Damn! The lawnmower’s started, it’s going to be hell!
30 -15, the ball’s high in the air
Where is it? I’ve lost it on account of the glare
30 – all, blimey, that shot was ace!
Deep and with top spin, I ran out of space.
Now 40 – 30, wait! Here comes a train
It’s a little frustrating when we’ve almost got game.
Serve, volley, in the net, oh what a pain!
Deuce … I’m sure I can now feel the rain.
It’s getting quite heavy, we’ll have to stop play
Let’s chat in the hut until it’s okay
Back on the court again, now it’s your van
Game to you! Partner, that wasn’t the plan.
Well, the game’s over, it’s time to go home
And for the club new year social I’ll make it a poem
It’s been part of my life for a number of years
So this is my toast to it, please join me with ‘Cheers’!
(by AI) – Val suggested some words to AI and it came up with this – not bad!
There’s a tennis club north of Exeter’s gate
Where players of all skills congregate
With a social so fun
And poetry’s run
At the Rec Club, they’re sure to feel great!
