Perpetual Golf: My Ode for 89

Four hours and 83 strokes ago, I shouldered my bag of sticks
Now I tremble on the 18th tee knowing, "I must get down in six"

I've been in this spot a time or two, and my game flat fell apart
I brush past horrors from my mind, "This time I'll play it smart"

I grip my 3-wood from the tee, and push it to the right
But that's not bad cause in that spot the rough is short and light

One-eighty to the flag I pace, my lie is pretty nice
I chose my weapon, aiming left and counting on a slice

I pick my head and chunk the shot half way to the pin
I slam my club and curse myself, "You can't do that again!!"

My wedge shot is an easy one, my mind is still on track
But I blade it just a little bit, and roll it off the back

Confidence begins to dwindle, evil voices start to ring
"What will crumble first, my mental game or my swing?"

Just chip it close and two-putt, not a daunting task
But for the king of three-putts, a mere two is a lot to ask

I yank my chip and pull it left a sold 15 feet
Two putts from there and in my mind I'll join the games elite

I don't need to make this one, only lag it near
I baby it like a novice, nerves shattering with fear

Now I've left a tester, it must be four feet shy
I slap my migrained forehead asking, "Why WHy WHY WHY!"

I spot my ball, I check my line, my sweat begins to drip
I stroke the putt and scream for joy as it tumbles over the lip!!!!!

89! I did it, today I conquered the links
Invite the gallery to the bar, I'm buyin' them some drinks

It took half a decade to reach my goal, Golf Gods is this a sign?
Next time I tee up with a new quest, the elusive 79!

Robert Hanson
Bad Golf Monthly Reader