To the tune of “We three kings” with far too much artistic licence
We the devoted to Golf Architecture,
for hidden gems, we surely endure
shunning the modern, admiring the forgotten,
pushing to find the pure.
O, course of wonder, vision in my sleep,
lots of greens surrounded by sheep,
greens are shaggy, the fairways are craggy,
with pot bunkers insanely deep.
Born was golf on St. Andrew's plain;
for inspiration we return again and again;
sod walls forever, waterfalls o’ never,
All on the perfect terrain
O course of wonder, in a marvellous town,
a timeless quality, a course of renown
all full of history, the origins a mystery
amazing buildings all around.
Seeking rumpled fairways and the uneven lie;
not that containment mounding ,that makes us all cry;
wild contours worth praising, chipping areas are amazing,
native grasses grow up high.
O, course of wonder, test of might,
with no mounding anywhere in sight,
minimalist leaning, maintenance meld proceeding,
with greens at the perfect height.
Modernist architecture is a bitter perfume
Unnecessary mounding, the gathering gloom;
Over-watering has me crying, the ground game is dying,
Always lengthening till no room.
O, course of wonder, you’ve become suddenly short,
the doctor’s desire to lengthen I must retort
Distance is soaring, this golf is boring
USGA please go to court!
From nowhere did the renaissance arise,
thanks to Ran Morrissette’s financial sacrifice,
Tom Paul types, "Hallelujah!", Mucci screams “screw ya!”
But now hopefully all are wise
O, site of wonder, theories in fight,
with no sleeping during the night,
historical leaning, many discussions proceeding,
all on an Golf Architectural site.
Happy holidays to everyone on the site, and thanks for all the enjoyable threads throughout the year.
Ian Andrew