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COLUMN: Rounding Third...

By John David Fay
Posted 12/5/21

It’s what I call the “Wacky Season” for golfers of the northeast. It starts about November first and lasts until it’s impossible to tread through the snow. Why do we do it? Because we love …

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COLUMN: Rounding Third...

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It’s what I call the “Wacky Season” for golfers of the northeast.

It starts about November first and lasts until it’s impossible to tread through the snow. Why do we do it? Because we love playing the game—and it’s something to do that’s physical. We, actually used to play halfway through winter in a game we modified to play in foot deep snow, but that’s when we had the real hardcore cases like the late, John Domagal and Jeff Baker, Herb Clark, Ted Cupp and the tough Don Cieslewicz.

I used to ask my incredulous friends, “What’s the big difference between what we do and what you do out there cross-country skiing?” It’s exercise and it’s fun, but I’m getting a little long in the tooth to trudge through snow now, so it will probably end soon—the Wacky Season! Oh yeah—of course I wrote a poem about it. Are you surprised? It’s called—oh yeah—

The Wacky Season!

A tear rolled softly down his cheek, “The frost is on the clover!”

Although he’s played five times this week, his season’s almost over.

The northeast is an angry wife when golf’s the game you play,

But when you’ve lived here all your life, you learn to find a way..

Twelve pair of eyes stare at the course, “How long will this frost last?”

Their need is like a driving force and the season goes too fast.

Now, every day the sun comes out, they listen for the word,

“Playable” the pro will shout—twelve pair of ears have heard.

Though some wear spike-less, more instead now choose their boots or pacs,

With woolen hats upon their heads and long johns on their backs. 

With t-neck, sweatshirt and a coat, it makes it hard to swing,

But down the fairway soon they float as if the birds still sing.

They’ll lose four balls in every round, the course just eats them up,

And balls that hit the green rebound far from the waiting cup.

They grumble, grouse and vent their ire, but then come back again.

Unquenchable, this raging fire and need of these grown men.

The days all end as they began, they settle at the bar,

The jousting ‘twixt who won and lost can sometimes go too far.

A dink or two and then they go on home to scoffing wives

Who think they’re nuts, but also know—it’s crucial to their lives.

And when the wacky season ends with snow as high as men,

These guys will talk their game with friends till springtime comes again. JDF

Joke: It was the first day of kindergarten and the teacher was explaining the rules. She said, “Now if anyone has to go to the bathroom, you should just hold two fingers up in the air like this!” A little boy in the back was squirming around a lot and the teacher asked him what was wrong. With his fingers in the air he said, “This doesn’t seem to help much!” 

Favorite one-liners—or two:: *You can tell a lot about a woman by her hands, If they’re holding a gun—she’s mad. * Hard work will beat talent every time—if the talent doesn’t work hard. * Being old is a matter of attitude. I’m not retired, I’m just re-treaded. * If the world is getting smaller—why do they keep raising the postal rates? * If you save your money today, you’re not a miser. You’re a miracle man. 

Terms: The Whole Nine Yards: American fighter planes during WWII had machine guns that were fed by a belt of cartridges, The average belt was 27 feet (9yards) long. If the pilot used up all his ammo, it was said he’d used “the whole nine yards.” Riff-Raff: The Mississippi River was the main way of travel from north to south for a while and riverboats carried passengers but they were expensive so most people used rafts, Everything had the right of way over rafts which were considered cheap. The steering oar on a raft was caked a “riff” and this transposed into  riff-raff, meaning low class. 

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