Introduction
It never came. Instead, Tom closed his eyes and started “Green, Green Grass of Home” completely a cappella. No brass section. No drums. Just a booming, yet tender baritone cutting through the silence.
He wasn’t singing it for the cameras. He was singing it for Linda.
In the front row, Shirley Bassey buried her face in her hands. The producers panicked for a second, then realized what was happening. Sir Tom wasn’t performing a hit.
He was sending a message home.
By the time he whispered the last line, “Yes, they’ve all come to meet me,” there wasn’t a dry eye in the stadium. It wasn’t just pop music. It was pure soul.