I was introduced when I was around thirty
To this striking, elusive beauty
I was smitten but didn’t know what to do
About my first move, I had no clue
Confidence, I tried
Often, I cried
It was a one-sided affair that was less on, more off
Yet, I couldn’t help but be obsessed with golf.
The swing played hard to get
From this bitch, I didn’t know what to expect
Suddenly, I’d feel great
When my ball went high, long and straight
Then it would go sideways without warning
Without a care that my heart was breaking
Again, I’d do fine and feel I’d solved the mystery
Next minute be reminded, there’s just no consistency.
I couldn’t get its perfect form out of my head
My craziness would continue until I was dead
Should I get coached by a more experienced lover?
May be then I’d play like Tiger
But I tried understanding golf on my own
Looking to go steady, I was left feeling forlorn
I just wasn’t delivering the goods
I often found myself in the woods.
Now I generally get a bogey
But I’m still madly in love with the birdie
So I continue this affair with diligence
Finally, I’ve begun to use some intelligence
Rather than just think about technique
I feel what I’m trying to achieve
But I’ll never believe I’m special, I just won’t have the gall
Because golf will always have me by the balls.