In My Hand I  Hold A Ball,
White And Dimpled, Rather Small.
Oh, How Bland It  Does Appear,
This Harmless Looking Little Sphere. 
By It's Size  I Could Not Guess, 
The Awesome Strength It Does Possess. 
But  Since I Fell Beneath Its Spell, 
I've Wandered Through The Fires Of  Hell. 
My Life Has Not Been Quite The Same, 
Since I Chose To  Play This Stupid Game. 
It Rules My Mind For Hours On End, 
A  Fortune It Has Made Me Spend. 
It Has Made Me Yell, Curse And Cry. 
I Hate Myself And Want To Die. 
It Promises A Thing Called Par, 
If I Can Hit It straight And Far..
To Master Such A Tiny Ball,  
Should Not Be Very Hard At All. 
But My Desires The Ball  Refuses, 
And Does Exactly As It Chooses.
It Hooks And Slices,  Dribbles And Dies,
And Even Disappears Before My Eyes. 
Often It  Will Have A Whim, 
To Hit A Tree Or Take A Swim.
With Miles Of  Grass On Which To Land,
It Finds A Tiny Patch Of Sand.
Then Has  Me Offering Up My Soul,
If Only It Would Find The Hole.
It's  Made Me Whimper Like A Pup, 
And Swear That I Will Give It Up.. 
And Take To Drink To Ease My Sorrow,
But The Ball Knows ....  I'll Be Back Tomorrow.
 
Stand proud you noble swingers  of clubs and losers of balls...A recent study found the average  golfer walks about 900 miles a year.  Another study found golfers  drink, on average, 22 gallons of alcohol a Year. That means, on  average, golfers get about 41 miles to the gallon.
Kind of makes  you proud.  Almost feel like a hybrid.  A lean mean golfing  machine - so to speak!
Credit: Unknown. (If this picture belongs to you, click here to claim it.)
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