It’s great to be here in Manchester. Or as I call it, the Southern powerhouse. I want to talk to you about the general election. In fact, I want to talk to you about two of them. The first one – two years ago. And for us in Scotland, the same old story. Knocking our pans in. Hitting countless doors, delivering thousands of leaflets, too many conversations to count, another pair of boots ruined. And at the end of it all?
We started with one MP. We ended with one MP.
We’d survived the SNP tsunami, but were no further forward than when we began.…we were still outgunned by those sodding pandas.
But, two years later, we had a second election – this June.
Back on the stump.
Back knocking those same doors, delivering more leaflets, having thousands more conversations and – yes – by the end of it, another pair of boots totalled.
But this time, it was different. This time people were looking for a serious alternative to a nationalism that had let down our schools and was more concerned with division than delivery.
And we went from one MP to 13.
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