... and Bonner has gone 165 minutes of these championships without conceding a goal. Oh danger here...


"I dub thee Sir Gaffer, Knight of the Realm."

"Ta very much, Ma'am!"

It was a long time in coming, but at a momentous honours ceremony in Buck House last week, our very own football agony uncle, The Gaffer, was finally given the knighthood he so richly deserves.

"To be honest, I thought it would never happen," he said afterwards with characteristic modesty. "I mean, after all the trouble I've had with the Old Bill over the years, and seeing as how I'm basically living as a tax exile, just jetting in once a week to clock in at DangerHere Towers and collect my paycheque, you would think that HRH wouldn't give me the time of day. At it 'appens, she was ever so friendly. And I ain't never done a stroke for charity, neither!"

The Gaffer's fifth wife, Babs Windsor (no relation to HRH), stood by proudly as the Gaffer accepted his knighthood. Also in attendance was former Buck's Fizz singer and Gaffer old flame Cheryl Baker. The tabloids have been afire in recent weeks with speculation that The Gaffer has been conducting a secret affair with Cheryl behind Babs' back.

The two women gave each other a wide berth at the cheese and wine reception after The Gaffer's knighthood ceremony. HRH was whisked away by her bodyguards after a few minutes as things got heated between The Gaffer and The Prince of Wales. Afterwards, The Gaffer explained that it had all been a big misunderstanding:

"Look, I've got nothing against Prince Charles. Nice bloke, from what I can tell. It's just that I'm getting a bit hard of hearing. He came over to me all friendly like while I was downing a bottle of Dom Perignon 1968 (disgusting, it was - give me a good bottle of vodka any day). Anyway, he starts asking me how it felt to have the Queen make me a Knight of the Garter. With me dodgy ears, all I heard was "queen", "night" and "garter". Naturally, I assumed he was saying that I was a gay transvestite who liked going out at night wearing garters. 'Oi! Leave it out,' says I, and gives him a slight push. Just real gentle, like, to make the point. Next thing, there's bouncers all over the shop, and they're hauling me to the exit. I got one of them a good thump in the boat before Charles came forward and said sorry and sorted it all out. 'Fine,' says I. 'Just watch that it don't happen again.'



Peter's Lager Torment

Dear Gaffer

Iím a scouser plying me trade in the North-East. I used to think it was great up here, Gaffer, but lately Iíve not been so sure. The locals are giving me a hard time. The other week, they kept on pouring lager on top of me head while I was trying to get on with me work. This really upset me. I mean, what a waste of lager! What do you reckon I should do?

Pete R.

Pete, I shall answer your letter in pictorial form, mate.

As you can see, my patented Gafferware plastic beer funnel is specifically designed so that not a single drop of lager goes to waste when youíre getting your pelting. Itíll all go straight down your gullet. Maybe then the North-East wonít look so grim any more!

Mr X's Love Conundrum

Dear Gaffer

Can you please tell me the difference between love and infatuation?

Mr X

Cripes, Mr X, thatís not half a tough question to answer! I expect youíll be thinking Iíll tell you that love is what I feel for me lovely fifth wife Babs Windsor, and that infatuation is what I used to feel for me live-in lover from me 1980s Torremolinos-based wilderness years, Cheryl Baker out of Bucks Fizz. Not a bit of it, mate! Iíll tell you, love is what striker Ahlgli Nk Thrn felt for his country Vanuatu the year I coached them to runners-up spot in the East Indian Ocean Islands Triangular Trophy. Little Ahlgli placed an electric eel in his shorts for the last 10 minutes of the deciding game to give himself that extra bit of zip. It did the trick too, because he got the winner with a minute to go (we won 10-9). Infatuation is what poor old Ahlgliís wife turned out to have felt for him. Left him, she did, after that game, when she discovered that the unfortunate lad had lost all sensation in the manhood department.




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