Here is a humorous golf poem courtesy of Vineyard Golf at White Lake:
Birdie Flu
I’ve got the birdie flu
And it’s killing me.
No birdie two’s
Or four’s or three.
It starts with driving
Left and right
Birdie chances
Out of sight.
Second shots
Become the test
Pushes and pulls
Lead to pars at best.
With pitches and chips
They’re never near
Leaving putts that even
Good putters fear.
If you catch this bug
And you’re tied in knots
The only prescription
Find better shots.
Leon S White, PhD
Here is an interesting golf comment courtesy of Vineyard Golf at White Lake:
“Golf is unique in that it allows even raw beginners to play where their heroes do. The average Sunday tennis player will never get to dolly down his serve on Centre Court at Wimbledon, and even the keenest amateur footballer will only score a Wembley winner in his dreams. But from St. Andrews to The Belfry to Pebble Beach, simply turn up and pay your green fee, and you can walk in the spiky footsteps of Seve, Nicklaus and Tiger.”
— Vincent Crump
Author: Sonny Jones
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