John Lloyd may refer to:
John Lloyd (born 27 August 1954) is a former professional tennis player who reached an ATP world ranking of 21 from 23 July 1978 to 30 July 1978 and who was ranked as UK number 1 in 1984 and 1985. He now works as sports commentator.
During his career, he reached one Grand Slam singles final and won three Grand Slam mixed doubles titles with tennis partner Wendy Turnbull, the French Open in 1982 and Wimbledon in 1983 and 1984. He was the first husband of the former top woman player Chris Evert and is the younger brother of the former British Davis Cup captain David Lloyd. He served as the British Davis Cup Captain Himself from August 2006 – March 2010. He is a Member of the All England Lawn Tennis and Croquet Club.
Lloyd was educated at Southend High School for Boys, a state grammar school in Southend-on-Sea in Essex, in South East England.
At the Australian Open in December 1977, Lloyd became the first British male tennis player in the Open era to reach a Grand Slam singles final. He lost in five sets to America's Vitas Gerulaitis 6–3, 7–6, 5–7, 3–6, 6–2. No other British player reached a Grand Slam final for 20 years, until British-Canadian Greg Rusedski reached the US Open final in 1997. In 1984 he reached the quarter-finals of the US Open. Lloyd never progressed beyond the third round in singles play at Wimbledon.
John Charles Lloyd (1818 – 23 January 1881) was an English-born Australian politician.
He was born at Acton Round in Shropshire to army officer John Lloyd and Mary Evans. He migrated to New South Wales in 1841 and managed property in the Liverpool Plains district. Around 1855 he married Eleanora Sparks, with whom he had fourteen children. He acquired land in the Liverpool Plains, and visited England in 1864. In 1864 he was elected to the New South Wales Legislative Assembly for Liverpool Plains, serving until his retirement in 1869. He was bankrupted in 1871. Lloyd died at The Myalls near Narrabri in 1881.
Scalpel, Clamps. Pull him to the ground.
No innocent hands! Every second counts! (Ha ha ha)
Cut! Through his skin thick blood flows.
No anaesthesia as I dig in!
Spleen uncovered, brutally removed.
So wasteful, tasteful, eaten from within.
Stitch him back up so he survives.
Eating intestines to keep ourselves alive.
Thirteen days starving to Death since they bombed this place.
All the roads blocked the forest stocked full of mines.
No, there is no escape!
Half the village died, animals fled.
Plague lurking like a ticking time bomb.
The stench of death.
I won't regret, doctor! Use your craft!
Now amputate my hand so I can eat!
I can eat...
Forced beyond sanity they kept themselves alive. Lost all their dignity.
Forceps, Clamps. Pull him to the ground.
No innocent hands! Every second counts! (Ha ha ha)
Cut! Through his skin thick blood flows.
No anaesthesia as I dig in!
More of them died, putrefied, but the surgeon lived on.
Fed on their organs, limbs, a blood hunger never satisfied.
Soon he realized his raid of Death had come to an end.
No living soul left, for his hunger driven theft. Killed them all!
"But I must eat!
Just a little piece of me!
Come to daddy!"
He must eat!
Twenty days almost starved to Death in this forsaken place.
Found by soldiers who brought him back, he was safe.
Comatose, little did he know what horrors slowly crawled upon him once he
(a)rose. "Severe war traumas" he was told.
Mouth guard. Strap. Pull him to the ground.
No innocent hands! Every second counts.
He ate his own tongue. Thick blood flows.
"We are losing him!" Heart fails.
So wasteful, tasteful, eaten from within.
This blood hunger grown to be a part of him.
Never satisfied, in his last moment realized,