There Is No My Way For Jewell At Ipswich

Chosen because it was a favourite of Sir Bobby Robson, along with Sir Alf Ramsey, one of our greatest managers, Frank Sinatra’s My Way has become the pre-match anthem at Portman Road.

But much like the current manager, and his team, it has failed to evoke much passion or motivation among the crowd.

But perhaps Paul Jewell has his own version of what the lyrics mean to him and his stay at Ipswich, and we take alight-hearted look at what he may think.


And now, the end is here
And so I face the final curtain
(whether I’m pushed or jump I’m not long for this job)

My friend, I’ll say it clear
I’ll state my case, of which I’m certain
I’ve lived a life that’s full
I traveled each and ev’ry highway
And more, much more than this, I did it my way
(The world was my oyster after a bit of success at Bradford and Wigan but Derby and Sheff Wednesday, and now Ipswich, just didn’t get me. OK so i changed my mind about players every two weeks or so. Getting experienced, Ok old, players in on decent dosh would get us promoted. When that didn’t happen I looked at the kids, but they were not alright, so now I’gone for loanees – and plenty of them. Surely I will stumble on something representing a plan soon.)

Regrets, I’ve had a few
But then again, too few to mention
I did what I had to do and saw it through without exemption
I planned each charted course, each careful step along the byway
And more, much more than this, I did it my way

(Signing Jimmy Bullard, Michael Chopra, JET and about a dozen others have come back to bite me on the bum but at least they have all made a few quid.)

Yes, there were times, I’m sure you knew
When I bit off more than I could chew
But through it all, when there was doubt
I ate it up and spit it out
I faced it all and I stood tall and did it my way
(Bloody fans keep shouting for me to be sacked but the owner keeps paying me top dollar and telling me how great I am, so bollocks to the great unwashed)

I’ve loved, I’ve laughed and cried
I’ve had my fill, my share of losing
And now, as tears subside, I find it all so amusing
To think I did all that
And may I say, not in a shy way,
‘Oh, no, oh, no, not me, I did it my way’
(I can’t believe I got away with it for so long, and I’m still here picking up my dosh while we are bottom of the Championship.)

For what is a man, what has he got?
If not himself, then he has naught
To say the things he truly feels and not the words of one who kneels
The record shows I took the blows and did it my way!

Yes, it was my way

(I may have an even worse record at Ipswich than Roy Keane but I will get paid up and after a nice holiday get another cushy job somewhere – if not I’ll spout nonsense on Sky.)