02/20/2004 -    A golfer’s story


Have you heard the heart-wrenching story,
A tale of a golfer who almost got the glory,
Of the man who wanted to become a VP soon,
And take his crawling career straight to the moon.


He thought the road into the executive lairs,
Was to take the elevator, not the stairs.

He needed something to make him fly,

To zoom straight to the corporate sky!


Golf is a game he had seen the bigwigs play,
Be seen with them, he thought, that's the way,
Get into the inner circle, join the bossmen's club,
With the corporate cream let your shoulders rub.


Whatever the price I have to pay, he thought,
It's certainly not me who's willing to rot.

Firmly he made up his mind,
He was not going to left behind!

So he decided to take up golf with every intent,
To impress the bosses and become Vice-President.
His promotion very easily he would get,
On this he was willing anything to bet!

And so he took up the irons and all the goods,
And strode like a Tiger right into the Woods!

In the beginning it was really swell,
For he did do extremely well.

He did right in each and every thing,
His shots did soar as if on a wing,
He stuck his butt out at every swing,
Which made him look quite like a king.


He thought he'd become a VP very soon,
Men would clap, the ladies would swoon!

Nose high, he began to swagger,

He puffed up and became a bragger!


Alas that was too good to sustain,
His luck the poor chap could not maintain.
Very soon his tees went behind instead of front,
Of ridicule and laughter he became the brunt!

He sang a carol, he sang a hymn,
But his luck with the irons was slim.
His shots were too slow or too fast,
They left his bosses totally aghast.

When he aimed for the high sand,
Right in the water his shots would land!

And he was all over the lot

Every time he played his approach shot!


He stopped being nice

And even took some advice!

But his trickery did not work,

Lady Luck continued to smirk!


It all became finally too much,
He had simply lost his touch,
He banged his head against the walls,
When time and again he lost his balls!


So he decided it was not for him,
His future at this game was too dim,

He decided he had to think again,

Maybe he had to forgo the fast lane.

He was losing his bacon and his ham,
In trying to look for too much jam.

He didn't want to lose his bread and butter,
While swinging the iron and putting the putter.


But what happened to his glorious intent
Which had taken such a horrible dent?


Well, the Management considered his case,
His golf and his work, taking both as the base.
And though one was bad and the other worse,
A grudge they told him they would never nurse.

Never would he golf again, he said, full of regret,

He would work hard at his job, he would sweat.

And though copious tears he shed,

They made him their caddy instead!


Well, at least, he still gets to walk the inviting green,
Even though he's considered just a could-have-been,
And he still keeps the company he always wanted,
And in his mind he still remains undaunted.


One day he swears he will be back,
Making up for whatever he may lack.
That day these goons would see the light,
Then they'll make him a VP overnight!


So in secret he still practices his swing,
And refuses to forget the whole thing.

He would putt day and night,

And not give up without a fight.


He would grit his teeth and learn the tricks,
Perfect his swing and use the sticks.
But till then, while his bosses will be swingin ‘em,
Our friendly neighborhood golfer will just be carryin 'em!