The Last Word

LET’S LEAVE THE last word to Edgar Guest, who penned these lines in June 1930 and which appeared in the Lincoln Star newspaper in Nebraska. It is entitled ‘Comfortless’:

‘I do not see the sunbeams dance,

Nor hear the birds,’ said he.

‘There’s something faulty with my stance,

I can’t get off the tee.

‘All day I’ve shanked my mashie shot,

My putts rimmed every cup,

I’m doing something I should not;

I think it’s looking up.’

‘Poor man,’ I said, ‘t’is very sure

No help for you appears,

The woes you bear I tried to cure

Myself for thirty years.

‘And still my mashie shots I shank,

And stil I slice the drive,

And with the dubs expect to rank

As long as I’m alive.

‘Through time all other griefs may cure,

All other hurts may mend,

The miseries of golf endure:

To them there is no end.’

Whatever happens enjoy your golf in 2016.

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