2009 Limericks

There once was a golfer named Nate,

who, we’re told, hits ‘em straight.

His team wouldn’t blow up,

if he’d only show up

and everything would be just great.

There once was a golfer named Brian.

What a great guy, I’m not lyin’.

He takes care of league.

You can see the fatigue,

but you’ve just gotta love him for tryin’.

There once was a golfer named Kevin,

whose swing, it seems, came from heaven.

He’ll throw in a bird,

then a second and third

but damn that occasional seven!

There once was a golfer named Kebles,

who looks like one of those Weebles.

He can hit some good drives

but it’s, when he arrives,

that his putting can make him look feeble.

There once was a golfer named Bernie.

He’s on a difficult journey.

We sent him a letter

of hope he gets better

and back for our season’s last tourney.

There once was a golfer named Bagan.

He’ll put an occasional wage in.

But it comes at a cost

with another buck lost.

Were he only more like Walter Hagen.

There once was a golfer named Frank,

who can give the ball a good spank.

Now, this might sound funny

but he takes our money

and runs with it straight to the bank!

There once was a golfer, Badini.

He certainly isn’t a meany.

Now, his may sound sappy

but he’d be more happy,

if he could win just one greenie.

There once was a golfer named Andrew,

who hits them out where few can do.

But we wait and wait

‘cause he brought us Nate.

What the hell did that man do?

There once was a golfer, Divelbliss.

He can sure smack a Titleist.

But with no-shows here

and no-golfers there

he can’t figure out, who his rival is.

There once was a golfer named Bubby,

who will hit a few of them stubby.

You know he’s around

from the carry of sound.

Does he remind you of Tubby?

There once was a golfer named Hot Dog.

He once played in a wet bog.

It’s no baloney

just give him a Stoney

and he’ll even play, if we’ve got fog.

There once was a golfer, Bouchard,

who really swings at it hard.

Oh, he’ll never bore some.

“How many in that foursome?”

Isn’t he truly a card?

There once was a golfer named Smitty.

Sometimes it doesn’t look pretty.

But, when everything’s right,

he’ll swing with his might

and he’ll hit one out of the city.

There once was a golfer named Kinder,

while playing he’s not such a grinder.

But he’s quick with his wit

and he jokes just a bit,

in case you need a reminder.

There once was a golfer named Vic,

who’ll give you advice that is quick.

If you want to court fame,

just pwactice yowr showrt game

and keep it right next to the stick.

There once was a golfer named Nick.

He’ll give the ball a good lick.

He’ll finish the round

then be gone without sound.

Why does he leave us so quick?

There once was a golfer named Denny.

He can give the ball plenty.

But it’s such a sin

that they seldom fell in.

It’s not how they’re struck but how many.

There once was a golfer, Ferguson.

He’s not really known for his cussin’.

But he’ll step in the bucket

then swing and say “fuck it!”

What is it with all of that fussin’?

There once was a golfer named Timmy,

whose swing has a hitch and a shimmy.

Par fives are a bear.

Par fours here and there.

But par threes, like eight, are a gimme.

There once was a golfer named Loyal,

whose game can be somewhat royal.

It can tear you in half

just hearing him laugh

and go on with his round without toil.

There once was a golfer named Ken.

He plays well… now and then.

With occasional birdies,

he’ll shoot in the thirties

but, with him, you never know when.

There once was a golfer named Joey.

He can hit ‘em straight even though he

is able to slice

that will look very nice

‘til the trees on the right make him worry.

There once was a golfer named Russo,

whose game is not always true so…

sometimes he’ll get sporty

and shoot a low forty.

Who even knew he could do so?

There once was a golfer named Zim.

He simply plays on a whim.

But he’ll get disgusted,

with putter not trusted,

as another ball hangs on the rim.

There once was a golfer, Agosti,

who found the game somewhat costly.

He seemed pretty nice,

when he played with us… twice

in April, when it was still frosty.

There once was a golfer named Skip.

He still gives the ball a good rip.

The reason is clear,

when he drinks a beer,

‘cause he still has a wonderful grip.

There once was a golfer, Sacane.

He won’t play, if it’s rainy.

Not much with a schoolbook,

he’s tough with the rulebook.

In fact, he’ll drive you insaney!

There once was a golfer named Rach,

who can give the ball a good sock.

He swings with much vigor

like men, who are bigger…

not Eddie, the one we call Doc!

There once was a golfer named Chuck,

who’s never down on his luck.

There is a reason

his temper is even

but, honestly, who gives a fuck?

There once was a golfer named Fred.

The game doesn’t go to his head.

Cat-like but bigger…

not Tiger but Tigger,

his figures are never in red.

There once was a golfer named Al,

who practices to no avail.

While he tries to hone it

he’ll find an opponent

who’ll play out of his ass, without fail.

There once was a golfer, Yunk Junior.

His swing could use a fine tuner.

He picked up the game late

and it would be great

had he only started much sooner.

There once was a golfer named Hatch,

whose game could use a good patch.

The irons will dig,

as his swing does a jig,

and pick up a bit too much thatch.

There once was a golfer named Yunk,

who hits them with sort of a clunk.

Oh, how it must eat him

that his brother can beat him.

His game needs a little more spunk.

There once was a golfer named Eddie.

Give him a club and he’s ready.

But give him a beer

he’ll grin ear to ear

and that’s when his swing will be steady.

There once was a group named Poroda,

on Fridays, around the pagoda.

They can be quite foolish,

of course, they are Polish.

And golfers? No, not one iota.

There once was a golfer named Eddie.

Give him a club and he’s ready.

But give him a beer

he’ll grin ear to ear

and that’s when his swing will be steady.

There once was a golfer named Simon.

He likes to sing songs that are rhymin’.

He’ll make a good pass

but golfer my ass!

I think it’s a problem with timin’.

There once was a golfer named Eddie.

Give him a club and he’s ready.

But come this September,

he’ll never remember

that we did this already!