Team Strongman

Armed forces serving over Chrstmas

I post this every December and this year will be no exception, Please remember them all over Christmas

Remember our Armed forces over Christmas

A Christmas poem with a difference

The embers glowed softly, and in their dim light,
I gazed round the room and I cherished the sight.
My wife was asleep, her head on my chest,
My daughter beside me, angelic in rest.

Outside the snow fell, a blanket of white,
Transforming the yard to a winter delight.
The sparkling lights in the tree I believe,
Completed the magic that was Christmas Eve.

My eyelids were heavy, my breathing was deep,
Secure and surrounded by love I would sleep.
In perfect contentment, or so it would seem,
So I slumbered, perhaps I started to dream.

The sound wasn't loud, and it wasn't too near,
But I opened my eyes when it tickled my ear.
Perhaps just a cough, I didn't quite know,

Then the sure sound of footsteps outside in the snow.
My soul gave a tremble, I struggled to hear,
And I crept to the door just to see who was near.
Standing out in the cold and the dark of the night,
A lone figure stood, his face weary and tight.

A soldier, I puzzled, some twenty years old,
Perhaps a Marine, huddled here in the cold.
Alone in the dark, he looked up and smiled,
Standing watch over me, and my wife and my child.

'What are you doing?' I asked without fear,
'Come in this moment, it's freezing out here!
Put down your pack, brush the snow from your sleeve,
You should be at home on a cold Christmas Eve!'

For barely a moment I saw his eyes shift,
Away from the cold and the snow blown in drifts..
To the window that danced with a warm fire's light
Then he sighed and he said 'Its really all right,

'I'm out here by choice. I'm here every night.'
'It's my duty to stand at the front of the line,
That separates you from the darkest of times.

No one had to ask or beg or implore me,
I'm proud to stand here like my fathers before me.
My Gramps died in the Somme on a day in December,'
Then he sighed, 'That's a Christmas 'Gram always remembers.'

My dad stood his watch on the streets of Belfast,
And so here I am, my turn at last
I've not seen my own son in more than a while,
But my wife sends me pictures, he's sure got her smile.

Then he bent and he carefully pulled from his bag,
The red, white, and blue... a British flag.
I can live through the cold and the being alone,
Away from my family, my house and my home.

I can stand at my post through the rain and the sleet,
I can sleep in a foxhole with little to eat.
I can carry the weight of killing another,
Or lay down my life with my sister and brother..

Who stand at the front against any and all,
To ensure for all time that this flag will not fall.'
'So go back inside,' he said, 'harbour no fright,
Your family is waiting and I'll be all right.'

'But isn't there something I can do, at the least,
'Give you money,' I asked, 'or prepare you a feast?
It seems all too little for all that you've done,
For being away from your wife and your son.'

Then his eye welled a tear that held no regret,
'Just tell us you love us, and never forget.
To fight for our rights back at home while we're gone,
To stand your own watch, no matter how long.

For when we come home, either standing or dead,
To know you remember we fought and we bled.
Is payment enough, and with that we will trust,
That we mattered to you as you mattered to us.'

Christmas will be coming soon and some credit is due to our service men and women for our being able to celebrate these festivities

A Christmas poem with a difference

The embers glowed softly, and in their dim light,
I gazed round the room and I cherished the sight.
My wife was asleep, her head on my chest,
My daughter beside me, angelic in rest.

Outside the snow fell, a blanket of white,
Transforming the yard to a winter delight.
The sparkling lights in the tree I believe,
Completed the magic that was Christmas Eve.

My eyelids were heavy, my breathing was deep,
Secure and surrounded by love I would sleep.
In perfect contentment, or so it would seem,
So I slumbered, perhaps I started to dream.

The sound wasn't loud, and it wasn't too near,
But I opened my eyes when it tickled my ear.
Perhaps just a cough, I didn't quite know,

Then the sure sound of footsteps outside in the snow.
My soul gave a tremble, I struggled to hear,
And I crept to the door just to see who was near.
Standing out in the cold and the dark of the night,
A lone figure stood, his face weary and tight.

A soldier, I puzzled, some twenty years old,
Perhaps a Marine, huddled here in the cold.
Alone in the dark, he looked up and smiled,
Standing watch over me, and my wife and my child.

'What are you doing?' I asked without fear,
'Come in this moment, it's freezing out here!
Put down your pack, brush the snow from your sleeve,
You should be at home on a cold Christmas Eve!'

For barely a moment I saw his eyes shift,
Away from the cold and the snow blown in drifts..
To the window that danced with a warm fire's light
Then he sighed and he said 'Its really all right,

'I'm out here by choice. I'm here every night.'
'It's my duty to stand at the front of the line,
That separates you from the darkest of times.

No one had to ask or beg or implore me,
I'm proud to stand here like my fathers before me.
My Gramps died in the Somme on a day in December,'
Then he sighed, 'That's a Christmas 'Gram always remembers.'

My dad stood his watch on the streets of Belfast,
And so here I am, my turn at last
I've not seen my own son in more than a while,
But my wife sends me pictures, he's sure got her smile.

Then he bent and he carefully pulled from his bag,
The red, white, and blue... a British flag.
I can live through the cold and the being alone,
Away from my family, my house and my home.

I can stand at my post through the rain and the sleet,
I can sleep in a foxhole with little to eat.
I can carry the weight of killing another,
Or lay down my life with my sister and brother..

Who stand at the front against any and all,
To ensure for all time that this flag will not fall.'
'So go back inside,' he said, 'harbour no fright,
Your family is waiting and I'll be all right.'

'But isn't there something I can do, at the least,
'Give you money,' I asked, 'or prepare you a feast?
It seems all too little for all that you've done,
For being away from your wife and your son.'

Then his eye welled a tear that held no regret,
'Just tell us you love us, and never forget.
To fight for our rights back at home while we're gone,
To stand your own watch, no matter how long.

For when we come home, either standing or dead,
To know you remember we fought and we bled.
Is payment enough, and with that we will trust,
That we mattered to you as you mattered to us.'

Christmas will be coming soon and some credit is due to our service men and women for our being able to celebrate these festivities

Please support the poppy appeal

It's just wrong

You know it makes me wonder about our prioritys in the uk. I've just turned off the BBC after watching an hour or so of the Team GB welcome home ceremony.
Now don't get me wrong these athletes did well and deserve to celebrate the work they have put in to achieve there goals. However, what pis*es me off is that British troops come home after achieving so much more, after putting so much more on the line and they receive no big fan fare parade. No flag waving reception, With no press cameras there is no prime minister stood at the gate shaking each man and womans hand. No large party to thank them on there return is there!
This media led society we live in has it's prioritys so very very wrong.

This is just my rant, i don't care what anyone elses  believes and i don't really want an argument about it.

Picture box

Many thanks to Colin Wood of www.picturebox.me.uk for some wonderful photographs a selection of which now added to the album here http://teamstrongman.typepad.com/photos/tribute_team_strongman_ph/index.html

740kg Deadlift

It's offical http://www.ironmind.com/ironcms/morenewsv6.php?id=2619#2619

New World Record

This is the 740kg deadlift that we believe gives laurence Shahlaei and Rob frampton a new world record.

The lift was done using a solid 2" bar straight after a 720kg lift. Oh and Rob had a broken arm !

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Thank you everyone

I just want to post a quick Thankyou to everyone who made the 2008 competition a fantastic fun day. There were some outstanding displays of strength and I'll post more on this and the full results in the coming days.

I need to thank so many people; The ilfracombe Roundtable for their growing support for this event, Tribute Real Ale, The ale of strongmen, as the main event sponsor, Stagecoach for the bus and their pledge to continue to support this local event, The Barnstaple Chiropractor clinic for their medical backup. The wonderful Karen from Lantern FM for the event commentary, Ilfracombe Yacht club for hosting the pre and post event function.

The lads and ladies who worked so hard keeping score and resetting the equipment. Maz, Katie, The 2 Steve's, Tim, Harry, Craig, Paddy thankyou all for your hard work all day.

The good people who turned up on the day and watched and supported the lads on a wet day to the very end you all made the day a joy to be a part off.

And of course the most important people of all, The athletes who gave of their time free to compete and help raise money for many good cause. To all you lads a special Thankyou.

A couple of pictures from the album that sum up the day for me:

The crowd were happy , smiling and wanting to be part of the day as much as the Athletes. Look at the crowd faces and despite the rain they are smiling .

 

 

I think this picture, of Lee and Mick loading, shows just how many people were watching and enjoying the show:

The Zone has a new leader

Big Rob Frampton is now a figure of worship in my book. At the recent Englands Strongest Man competition two weeks ago, Rob broke his arm when he dropped an anvil on it.

I don't know why he dropped an anvil on his arm but I'm sure your not really suppose to. Despite this Rob continued in the comp and even pulled reps on the deadlift with over 300kg!!!

Strongman is a hard sport and it takes men of a iron mind to put themselves through the demands of these brutal competitions.

Rob Frampton is certainly a special breed aside from being Fu*king stupid.

  

Deadlifting a transit van with a broken arm - Thats Strongman

picture courtesy of Davis Hornes world of grip