Ode to the Naive Golfer
As
I stand with the wind to my back
I’m
playing against another hack
I
dream of hitting the dinger
With
the hopes of hitting a zinger
Only
WGT knows for sure
I
hit the ball up into air
Where
it lands I do not care
For
my meter is on the fritz
And
it is definitely the pits
Only
WGT knows sure
One
never knows about the wind
It
comes and goes like a whim
I
strike my putt with a firm hand
It
rarely goes where I command
Only
WGT knows sure