St. Ronan’s Games - Principal Guest 2025
I had the great honour of being Principal Guest at St. Ronan’s Border Games in 2025. I delivered a speech to the many townspeople and visitors in atteandance at the Cleikum Ceremonies on 18 July. You can find the script below which I share to pass on my hopeful message to a wider audience, but also to preserve it for my own kids to read it when they are older. The bits in bold are those I underlined on the script to give that wee bit extra emphasis. Enjoy ;)
Picture the scene: it’s 5.30pm on Cleikum Night, 2015—ten years ago tonight. I’m at my parents’ kitchen table, nearing the end of my seventh year as Games Week Secretary, enjoying my steak pie, relaxed and excited for the night ahead.
Suddenly, the door bursts open. The President of the Games strides in—no knocking required, of course, not during Games Week. He marches over and slams a script onto the table like a royal decree.
“Dougie Patterson’s lost his voice and canny narrate the Cleikum. You’ll hae tae dae it!”
And with that, he’s gone - leaving me with a forkful of uneaten steak pie and a rising sense of panic.
Fast forward one hour. I’m on this stage, behind the curtains, gripping a microphone, sweat pouring down my face. Poised, but nowhere near ready, to narrate the Cleikum Ceremonies.
At my side is Dougie Patterson. For a generation, his deep, sonorous voice defined the Cleikum. He was my Games hero and a great friend, there to guide me through the ordeal. But he really had lost his voice—so instead of whispered encouragement, I got croaks and frantic hand signals.
My opening line? The immortal, poetic:
“Echoes wake in Leithen valley and in the shade of Plora. The legend of Saint Ronan”
Spine-tingling, as you all know.
But as the choir fades, the music drops, and I lift the mic to my mouth, one thought screams in my head:
“For the love of God Stewart, dinny do it in Dougie’s voice!
Games Week means everything to me. Being Standard Bearer with my old pal Lynsey back in 2008 was a real honour. Looking back with her ahead of tonight stirred up a lot of emotion—and I want to take a moment to recognise Johnny Lea and Katie Archibald as they retire from the Flag Party, on what is a bittersweet night when you step out. I was quite cool about the whole thing, until Jeanette Robertson gave me a cuddle and I started bubbling like a bairn.
Karen and I were lucky to be at Johnny and Katie’s introduction in 2022, and I remember Johnny telling me how proud he was to be accepted as Standard Bearer of Innerleithen, even though he wasn’t born here, becoming our first English born Standard Bearer.
Well Johnny, tonight it’s my turn to be proud. You’ve worn that title brilliantly, in fact I think your one of the finest Standard Bearers we have had. Well done to you both, and if that doesn’t get your mum greetin’, I don’t know what will. (footnote: it actually got mee greetin’ so backfired a bit ';))
My involvement with the Games stepped up when I became Secretary. Dorothy McKie - Mrs Games herself - was retiring after 20 years, and at the time I was still in the Standard Bearer’s Party as right-hand man. When the need for a new Secretary was announced at Committee, I did what any right-hand supporter does. I kept my head doon, my mooth shut and hoped to go unnoticed.
But fate had other plans. Walking through the Memorial Gardens after that meeting, I was approached by Norman Scott, legendary Treasurer of the Games Committee. He suggested I put my name forward, and said he’d back me. Now, the backing of Norman Scott is the Games equivalent of a Paul Hollywood handshake. If it’s offered, you take it.
Duly convinced, I put my hand up and was elected, being nominated and seconded by Dorothy herself and her husband Ted – who, to their credit, managed to contain their glee. Dorothy invited me to her and Ted’s house on George Street to begin a lengthy and thorough hand over process, which consisted of Dorothy handing me a shoebox full of papers and rosettes, and uttering the immortal words “GUID LUCK”!!
When our President Dawn phoned me in March to ask if I’d be Principal Guest, she said she believed I could speak to a wide cross-section of our community—both dyed in the wool locals and those who’ve made Innerleithen their home more recently. That meant a lot. I’ve always tried to be welcoming, especially to newcomers, and that comes from my upbringing. My parents instilled in me and my sister Claire a curiosity about the world and a love of sharing it with others.
And speaking of Claire - I should mention she was Dux Girl in 1991. With her wee brother as Principal Guest and her niece as a Sash Girl, I worry she might be feeling a bit left oot!
I often think about those experiencing Games Week for the first time. Imagine a couple moving here from the city with their young kids (no doubt in a VW transporter van) - drawn by the mountain bike trails, a barista on every corner and of course, our beloved Scandinavian lifestyle shop, Haus & Co. Life in Innerleithen, or Stockbridge-on-Tweed, if you like, is going swimmingly… until their child comes home clutching a letter saying they’ve been chosen to be a Monk. Welcome to St Ronan’s!
Now, we must admit — to outsiders the burning the de’il stuff might seem a bit weird. And my response? Aye, of course it’s weird! It was advertised as ‘the weird spectacle’ way back in 1901, and that’s part of its charm.
But we also have a responsibility. Games Week mustn’t become so opaque that newcomers feel excluded. Keeping it welcoming and accessible isn’t just important—it’s essential.
Innerleithen has changed—and continues to change. That’s been clear to me ever since my daughter Laura started at St Ronan’s School.
I think back to my own time there, when Innerleithen still felt like a working-class, semi-industrial or post industrial town. Most of us shared similar backgrounds and experiences. That’s simply no longer the case. The town’s demographic has shifted, with a growing professional class bringing new energy and reshaping the community.
But this isn’t a ‘weren’t the old days great’ speech - far from it. I love what Innerleithen has become. New faces have brought fresh ideas, different perspectives, and a vibrancy that flows from the trails that bring people here, right into the heart of the town.
That energy almost certainly helped make my own career change possible. Innerleithen is a place of opportunity—an innovative town that embraces reinvention. A town that, dare I say it, might just be the envy of the Borders… though of course they’d never admit it!!
Innerleithen is a special place, and the Games and Cleikum must remain at its heart.
When James Hogg and his pals envisioned the gathering 198 years ago, it wasn’t meant for just some of the town -it was about bringing everyone together. Likewise, when George Hope Tait and others created the Cleikum 124 years ago, it wasn’t about exclusivity.
These events offer a shared sense of community and a quiet conviction: that welcome matters, and goodness and light will always win the day.
So It’s on us, the community, to keep that pioneering vision alive. That means breaking down any barriers to participation (perceived or real), evolving the festival with the town and keeping the pure spirit of St Ronan’s burning bright.
The great news is that we have an exceptional team at the helm of the Games today - one that honours tradition while opening the festival to more of our community than ever before.
It’s easy to forget how much the Games have evolved. We often imagine it’s ‘aye been’ a certain way, and in many ways, the heart remains unchanged. But recent years have brought inspired changes that reflect a growing spirit of inclusivity and creativity.
We now have a printed newsletter, hand-delivered to every household - keeping everyone in the loop, the old-fashioned way. Online systems for ball ticket sales and tonight’s live stream have made the Games more accessible, near and far by using technology. Outreach stalls at the school fair, the co-op, and Caldwells have welcomed families, newcomers and curious visitors alike. Event timings have been adjusted—from the kids’ sports to the treasure hunt and over-60s night - making participation easier and more joyful for all. As an aside, I was invited to the Over 60s night with President Dawn the other night and if you are over 60 and not attending - well, you are missing out!
Last year, pupils at St. Ronan’s, from Nursery to P7, created a delightful animation explaining Games Week, guided by Ex-Dux Girl Simone Adam. We’ve seen real progress in fairness too, with sash girl equality now firmly in place. And tonight, for the first time ever, this ceremony is being narrated by a female voice - oor Rosie Graham, who’s absolutely brilliant.
Each of these steps has helped the festival reach further. And there’s always room to go further still, because Games Week isn’t just a dusty old tradition. It’s a living, evolving celebration of Innerleithen itself.
I’d like to leave you with three messages.
To Dawn and team. You're doing great work in making the Games more accessible, more sustainable and more fun than ever. Challenges will come - like someone losing their voice two hours before narrating the Cleikum, or bats and balls being lost for the kids sports, and particularly some of the incredibly tough conversations and choices that have to be made like those we made during the pandemic - but you always rise above them, because you work together.
Second, to us dyed-in-the-wool St Ronanites – we have to continue to support the Games however we can, especially as it evolves. Change has always been part of its story, and it’s what keeps it moving forward, so let’s back the committee in their stewardship of our beloved Games - even when, initially, we sometimes “hae oor doobts”.
And finally, to those new to the town, or anyone unsure about Games Week—my message is simple:
Embrace the weird spectacle!
Get involved, soak it in, and be part of it, because this tonight is Innerleithen—and isn’t that something to be proud of…
Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls simply put - this has been the greatest honour of my life and my privilege. Thank you very much.
