My Father’s what’s known as a Gaffer

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 My father’s what’s known as a Gaffer.
He sits through the game on the bench.
And when he comes home in the evening,
He’s covered all over in sweat.

2 Leave a comment on verse 2 0 His team wins? He takes all the credit.
They get beat? It’s down to the Ref,
Or Chairman, who won’t sign new talent,
‘Cos he’s already ear-deep in debt.

3 Leave a comment on verse 3 0 He chews gum like mad through the First Half.
Continues when play has resumed.
Five packets of Wrigley’s on Match Days –
The least that my Old Man consumes.

4 Leave a comment on verse 4 0 Last year he was driving a Limo.
He traded it in for a Jag.
But he never sleeps sound on his pillow,
‘Cos he’s scared stiff of getting the sack!

5 Leave a comment on verse 5 0 Now, doctors and nurses and teachers,
They sure get their fair share of stress.
But they should try being a Gaffer –
They’d soon jack the job in, I guess.

6 Leave a comment on verse 6 0 My father, he’s quite a style-icon,
In Ray-Bans and trademark white Mac.
With his Squad he’s a fierce as a python,
But with me he’s a meek as a lamb.

7 Leave a comment on verse 7 0 So next time your Team’s doing badly,
Please don’t call the Gaffer a ****
That Gaffer could be someone’s Daddy,
Who like mine’s not such a bad chap…

8 Leave a comment on verse 8 0 16/9/05
Denys E. W. Jones



This one should be sung to the tune of My Bonnie, although what I had in mind when I wrote this was a variation on that song which I learned as a kid entitled My Father’s a Lavatory Cleaner.

Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/my-fathers-whats-known-as-a-gaffer/