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The Life and Times of Jimmy Young ........ a poem by Andy Rennie
This gathering's become a legend on a January night
For its dining and drinking and us looking a right sight
Sharing our passion for running and how good we once wiz
Then testing drunken minds with the Frank Hannan quiz
But tonight's brain game's remembering and the reason's soon plain
For we're about to take a trip down wee Jim's memory lane
Now Jimmy's not from these parts, born one of Annbank's sons
The birthdate's a mystery ….. but he's met Rabbie Burns
His early years in running were Ayr's gain Irvine's loss
For he competed for our rivals with the big scarlet cross
A great champion in the making, I have nae doubts
Maybe Ayr Seaforth's answer to yon Vladimir Kuts
But Jim's wee feet were restless and a chance soon unfurled
That tempted him to migrate to the other side of the World
He made a flit to New Zealand leaving Scottish climes behind
Many happy years were spent there fairly expanding his mind
But he liked to keep active and he set some tongues wagging
When he started winning prizes at the sport of sheep…shearing
But his first love was learning, being blessed with good brains
So he went into teaching to mould the minds o' weans
These were happy days in the classroom for discipline was in
I bet a few got belted if they called him wee Jim
But this adventure soon ended and he returned home forlorn
For lets face it North Island's no the same as Dreghorn
But new challenges were waiting for Jim and his spouse
As they raised two fine children in yon rambling schoolhouse
Job advancement soon followed, to the top he did bound
Taking on the task of heidi in a quaint Ayrshire town
Now Dalry weans are stubborn, with minds hard to shape
Maybe that's why our Jim grabbed….the early retirement escape
With working life ended a chance for fulfillment not rest
For a focus on his running was our Jimmy's new quest
If he stuck to his schedule then surely he'd be whizzin
With his wee freckled legs going ten to the dizzin
But his game plan was thwarted by trickery not plannin
Left behind in the handicap by the wily Frank Hannan
Olympic ambition was gone now, no it wasnae lack o' speed
Just the rules don't allow a tea cosy on your heid !
What was left for our Jimmy should he rest his weary bones
Or maybe clear his garden of those clapped out Citrones
No a greater good was destined as fate played its aces
To make Jim world champion at organising races
Millport, Marymass and Saltcoats, just to mention a few
In between being president of the Scottish CCU
Chairing meetings, taking entries, wee Jim pulls his weight
Then bamboozles us runners with all those miles of white tape
He's even served the superstars of athletics' great and good
Running the European championships at the famed Holyrood
Time to acknowledge the achievements of this extraordinary man
Though we hope you're not finished yet, you're not Peter Pan
Like many famous wee men you're small in stature, huge in size
And for you're services to this club we hope you've liked our surprise
The SAF rightly honoured you, Liz McColgan your praises sung
Now your friends are doing likewise - here's to James McI. Young
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