Swings Both Ways

Hole one, par 4, driver, ball on tee,

I'm Nicklaus, I'm Hogan, I'm Woods, I'm Seve.

My swing so pure, my mind so free, 

until I drive the ball behind a fucking tree. 

But... I still stride with pride, and punch it through, 

the green now in sight, not much left to do

130 yards, a simple wedge, 

It takes off and lands... in a fucking hedge. 

So I hack and I whack, and I hit the green, so I strut,

I crouch down and line up, and I... fuck up the putt.

....."stay calm"....

Fresh start, clean slate, the next hole will be great, 

it's dead straight, but still the ball lands in the lake. 

...."fuck sake...stay calm"....

Wayward shots, on holes three, four and five, 

but on hole six I hit a 290 yard drive. 

A great hit, even if not entirely straight, 

as I'm on the sixth, but my balls on the eighth 

...."fuck sake...stay calm"...

So I sigh and I trudge, now holding a grudge, 

find the ball, hit the shot, but my distance misjudged. 

As although I swing well, the ball pings off the face, 

and lands in the drink and sinks without trace. 

..."fuck sake"...

Seven eight and nine ain't great, I start to think it's strange, 

that I'm a world class, major winning pro when I'm on the driving range. 

...Medical term for this is "delusional golfing fuckwit syndrome"...

I try to keep calm, but my patience wears thin, 

as the front nines done and the back nine begins. 

..."fresh start..."

Hole ten, par three, 7 iron in hand, 

hit high to the sky, to then land in the sand.

11th is good, from tee to green, 

and I par the twelfth, now daring to dream.

That Im Rory, I'm, Spieth, I'm Dustin, I'm Beeeeef, 

a talented golfer with a new found belief. 

But dreams fade on thirteen, no claret cup, no green jacket.

As I think, 'why did I pick up the club, and turn down the racket?'

..."stay calm"...

Fourteen I bogey, and fifteens OK, 

and somehow I'm two up, with three holes to play. 

My opponent now nervous, as I walk with a grin, 

with a sneaking suspicion that I might actually win. 

..."keep calm and focus"...

As I swing on sixteen, and follow through with a whoooosh, 

and see that little round fucker, land straight in a bush.

So I drop and I hit, and I drop and I hit, 

and I'm starting to get rather of bored of it. 

As my opponent hits six, I walk off with a ten, 

vowing not to make those mistakes once again. 

But I snap hook my shot, as my opponent hits straight.

So I throw down my driver and I scream "for fuuuck sake".

His approach shot is great, whilst I'm still bang in trouble, 

as he's set for a par, and I'm there for a double. 

..."keep calm and focus"...

One left to play, all square, par four, on the tee, 

as I dream he gets par and I win with a three.

He drives, and it's poor, as it fades to the right, 

my drives perfection, perfect length, perfect strike. 

..."nearly there, focus"...

His approach not that easy, as he's plugged in the rough, 

but he hits a great shot, to then make my next one tough. 

His rolls on the green, twelve feet from the cup,

let's hit mine to two feet and wrap this game up. 

110 yard approach, just need one more good shot, 

keep calm, breath, and show what you've got. 

Grip club, swing back, follow through and hit, 

but the shots not world class, it is simply.....shit. 

As it's shanked 20 yards, I now dread my score, 

as what should have been a great shot, didn't even get off the floor. 

..."fuuuuuuuck"...

The game ends with a loss, one down, none to play, 

it's a sure fire way to add stress to your day. 

But... for all the duffs, hooks pushes and tops, 

missed putts, pulls, slices and shit shots. 

For the shots in the water, to scoring eight, nine and ten, 

It's that one good shot that keeps you playing again. 

Hole one, par 4, driver, ball on the tee,

I'm Nicklaus, I'm Hogan, I'm woods, I'm...ME