Mike and I played by ourselves last weekend as our partners were dropping like flies…
Our foursome was whittled to two
But we played on ’cause “that’s what we do!”
With the Sun shining bright
And cigars still to light,
Too bad that their schedules fell through.
and this was your “Johnny Miller shot of the day”. Nice tap-in birdie for the other Mike…
As he stood visualizing the line
He could feel the resolve in his spine.
We watched it in awe
As a towering draw
Left a putt for an eagle on nine.
our bet on who owns the lowest handicap ends Labor Day 2010…
The cost of the lessons alluded
To improvements he thought exuded
The power within.
But he still has to win,
And for that I’m afraid he’s deluded.
it’s possible he might win…when I’m old and crippled!
Fifteen hundred for lessons was paid
And a grand for the irons he played,
But he’ll soon realize
To capture this prize
It will take him another decade.