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The Ball (Again)

I began this blog in December 2008 to introduce golfers to a golf history they were not likely to have encountered – poetry about golf. I also wanted to share golf poetry that I was writing. Now, after more than 15 years, the blog has grown to maybe 250 or so entries and lately interest seems to be increasing. Understanding that blog readers have limited time to spend on the internet, and recognizing that many entries have been read rarely, I have decided to re-introduce some of the poetry that you might have missed and would enjoy. I’ll begin with a poem I wrote in 2013 called “The Ball.”

The poem was inspired by one written by Raymond Carver (1938-1988), a famous American short story writer and also a poet. His poem was called “The Car.” It begins,

The car with a cracked windshield.
The car that threw a rod.
The car without brakes.
The car with a faulty U-joint.

And continues in a similar fashion for 44 additional lines!

Using Mr. Carver’s poem as a model, I wrote a more modest poem of 20 lines:

 THE BALL

The ball with a smile.
The ball with dimples.
The ball with two colors.
The ball with a liquid center.
The ball with mud on it.

The hard wooden round ball.
Old Tom’s featherie ball.
The  Woodley Flyer ball.
The balata ball.
The three piece ball.

The ball that missed the tree.
The ball that hit the spectator.
The ball that hung on the edge.
The ball that sits on the tee.
The ball that lands in a trap.

The ball lofted in the air.
The ball lost in the gorse.
The ball left on the range.
The ball belted with a driver.
The ball signed by Tiger.

Leon S White, PhD

(“The Ball” is included in my book, “If Golf Balls Could Talk,” available on Amazon for $6.95.)

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Have You Met Him

Thanks for visiting again or for the first time. As you may know (from reading this Blog) I’ve recently published a book called If Golf Balls Could Talk – Collected Golf Poems (available on Amazon). Here is a poem from the book that tells a familiar story:

 HE TALKS A GOOD GAME

He talks a good game
You know the guy

He judges each swing

With a critical eye. 

He talks a good game
Awash with advice

He’s off to the races

When he sees you slice. 

He talks a good game
He studies the pros

He is eager to tell you

All that he knows. 

He talks a good game
Can he turn a phrase

He talks a good game

But it’s not how he plays. 

He talks and he talks
With eyeballs that glisten
But even the duffers
No longer listen. 

If you’ve met this guy, you are welcome to share the experience in the comments section.