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Clatts my boy.

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 So our top lad has gone off to referee
In the land of milk and honey
Issuing cards and blowing his whistle
In conditions warm and sunny.
But when I wore my suit of black
And took abuse that was was not funny
But I grew to be thick skinned
For my ‘Tabs’ and beer money.

Notes

Good luck to Mark Clattenburg and his move to the middle east, as a North East lad himself he probably came through the leagues the hard way and is now one of the finest officials world wide. I think he may be aware that ‘Tabs’ are a Geordie word for cigarettes.

Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/clatts-my-boy/?shared=email&msg=fail