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GTF

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This was a man I met for only one month when I worked on oil rigs. He was retiring at the end of that month - and it was reported that he was something of a golf aficionado, having played with all the golf masters.

His stories were amazing, but you just felt that they were all true.  At a presentation ceremony he was given a number of things by his peers. This was my “going away present” to him. He read it in front of the crews. As he did so tears welled up in his eyes. He then abruptly left the presentation ceremony with the Words to me “Get Tae Fu**" What a nice man this is. A REAL rough diamond. 

GTF Wizened skin like burnished leather Thin, grey and long, disheveled hair Clear, sharp blue eyes that seem to stare Through sun scorched face, alert, aware A ‘lived-In’ face that’s so expressive Tales he tells read like a missive His arms and hands he flails about To all he jests, he seems to shout Belying age with youthful vigour He starts his day with seeming rigour But, easy going, he always jokes With folk at whom, light fun, he pokes He’s up each morning before the dawn Striding, planning, never forlorn Before sunrise you’ll hear with luck His famous catch-phrase, “Get Tae F***!” He’s worked on rigs for oh, so long With everyone he gets along On the “fine old lady” Stena Clyde No deference – ALL he does deride From owner, manager and high paid “suits” To lowly boys who clean the boots The tone the same, The grin, the look, The cheeky laugh, the “Get Tae F***!” Sub zero frost or tropical heat His ardour you will find hard to beat Old habits die hard they say Not his – he does them anyway! Does a place exist he’s never been? That has a port that’s never seen This tall slim figure filled with pluck Or heard his raucous, “Get Tae F***!” They say he’s always been a sailor From Antarctic wastes upon an ancient whaler 15 years old in the South Atlantic A hardy life, forget romantic! Steam driven ships before motor’s advent He sailed near and far. Came and went. A story true with each port of call His audience he holds in thrall But all through this, both feet aground Though invitations still abound To high profile golf tournaments The best hospitality at these events He mixes with the best of them The rich and famous golfing men Yet on the course when he mis-hits his ball Not “fore” but G.T.F. to all And so it seems his time has come To rest upon his laurels some He’ll sure be missed – God Speed, Good Luck It’s been a pleasure Jimmy, “Get Tae F***!” No dismissive snort from any here From us, a greeting, a hearty cheer Received with grace, a smile - a look. You grin then tell us, “Get Tae F***!”

Copyright © | Year Posted 2014




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Date: 8/22/2014 8:12:00 PM
GTF. That was awesome. A beautiful tribute to the kind of man that truly earned it.
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Date: 7/29/2014 12:29:00 PM
Quality write, it reminds me of my Grandad, I love how you've put it together, great flow!
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Date: 7/29/2014 10:13:00 AM
Really true to life. Hope this is someone you really did know. Excellent poem and enjoyed the reading The unusual people are the most interesting. Keep up the great writing All the best Edith
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