Wen we reach certain age, the people around us start pestering us with their new found "life experience" telling us what is good for us.
Take fishing! Take hunting! Take, take !
you know where to put that wooden stick from the shuffleboard!
To be gracious to the last sprung generation I patiently heard admonitions and suggestions coming at me all in one! which make me thought...
they hadn't hear what I had to said, so why I need to hear them?
I grew up from little Georg to Mister Mateos but along the way I became..."how is Georg today?" (with a voice one uses for toddlers) from a perfect stranger.
So I said ALL IN ONE !!!!! how about that!

My great-grandson told me,
Grandpa? you need a sport,
and undisputable statement
it seems,
coming from a youngster
engaged with Nintendo
all day long,
but then he said
the magical of all words
which all doctors say,
go and play GOLF!!!!!!!!
instead of sitting all day
on your ass
playing with your words.

So I did, I gave it a try
and went where people is
relentlessly engaged
on beating a small ball;
dressed in fancy knickers,
spiked shoes
and a hat covering my brain
from a laughing sun, and with
a club named Driver in the hand
I bend over as I should
to my very first tee off;
a white little thing was nailed
on the grass, with the weirdest
little ball sitting on its top.

Disaster came immediately
after trying my first shot,
the white little plastic thing
was nowhere to be seen,
but in front of me
was the weird little ball;
Frustration, shame, everything
a golfer most feel
took the reins control,
I whacked the pockmarked ball,
and earth, sand and grass
making my own private Hole.

As the weird thing went flying
coming from the onlookers
I heard someone saying, "what a shot!"
earth, grass and a bended Driver club
were filling the picture in front,
with a very fat lady trying to duck
as she strained to the limits
her not-spandex shorts,
not too far ahead
trying to reach Hole Number One
looking back to an angry oldster
whose great-grandson had told
"take golf grandpa,
it is a wonderful sport..."

You will agree that hitting
with all your might a little ball
which will not budge
is paramount,
to a millionaire player fumbling
one yard from a touch down;
dismay, dismay and utter dismay...
everywhere you go
senior citizen are engaged
on hitting that weird little ball;
I prefer to sit and write, 'cause
after trying once I didn't liked,
and now my great-grandson will hear,
"I told you so!!!!!!!!!"

If from some sadistic trend
you are compelled to play golf
can you tell me why you need
to whack that weird little ball?
which only get you frustrated
and foaming angry inside the bunker
or landing and buried on a muddy rough?
of getting lost inside the trees
we aren't even going to talk;
are you gaga golf? please for all means
practice that sport,
but not for me, I know I am a menace
to all the very fat ladies
wearing very tight shorts.