At history lessons we’d be taught
of the Viking’s and the Saxon
and when teacher mentioned Romans
we’d all shout out Cliff Jackson.
“Who the hell’s Cliff Jackson?”
would yell the non pleased educator,
and we’d gleefully tell the story
of the Palace gladiator.
Born in Swindon in the time of war,
we signed him from Argyll
and on the Palace faithful’s faces
he soon put on a smile.
Each time Cliff scored a goal
whether by head or either boot
he’d go up to the Palace fans
and give his straight arm up salute.
And bold Bert Head saw something else
in Cliff’s Jackson’s huge potential
and he moved him inside from the wing
where he was much more influential.
It was usually Marky Lazurus
who played the role of waiter
as he’d serve up chances on the plate
for our Roman gladiator.
When we won promotion in 69
each player played their parts
and Cliff finished up with fourteen goals
to top the scoring charts.
As the players stood in the Old Stand
throwing the fans their shirts and socks,
Cliff Jackson raised his arm aloft,
in the plush directors box.
He played a year in the First
where he proved his pedigree
but when the legs slowed down a little bit,
he signed up for Torquay.
So who the hell was Spartacus
and Russell Crowe the impersonator
Cliff Jackson at the Palace
was the only gladiator.
Modern players like to show,
their taut abs when they score
do silly little somersaults
and slide along the floor.
You’ve got Trevez with his dummy
you had Gazza with the flute
but none were as good as Jackson
with his straight arm up salute.
Now Cliff’s not doing too well health-wise
and we wish him all the best
and we look forward to seeing him back at Palace
as Simon’s Jordan’s guest.
And when he stands out on the Selhurst pitch
and raises that arm up to the crowd,
they’ll hear the roar at Millwall,
the noise will be that loud..