A Golf Night Before Christmas

Here’s a little ditty I composed for Christmas a couple of years ago. I had actually been thinking about it off and on for a couple of years. I had the opening stanza in my mind for a long time, and it finally came together in one fevered burst of creativity.

A Golf Night Before Christmas

'Twas the night before Christmas and out on the course,
Not a creature was stirring in trees nor in gorse.
My clubs were all placed in my locker with care,
In hopes that fair weather soon would be there.

While most golfers nestled at home in their beds,
Visions of birdies danced round my head,
So in my plus fours and Irish wool cap,
I went to the club for a late evening tap.

When out on the course there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bar to see what was the matter.
To the first tee, I flew like a flash,
Tripped on a stair, hit my head with a crash.

The light of the moon on the dusting of snow,
Lit up the course with a wintery glow.
When what to my wondering eyes did appear,
But a red club car sleigh and eight tiny reindeer.

With a little old player, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be Saint Nick.
They flew in as quick as a thirteen stimp green,
And he called them by name as they entered the scene:

“Now Jigger, now Spoon, now Niblick and Brassie
On Cleek and on Spade and on Baffie and Mashie
To the top of the leaderboard, crushing the ball,
Now swing away, swing away, swing away all.”

As golf balls hit high in a trailing breeze
Will carry an hazard with relative ease,
So over the clubhouse, the reindeer they flew,
With a sleigh full of presents, and Nicholas too.

And then, in a twinkling, I saw on the tee
St. Nick taking practice swings easy and free
He slowly drew back, swung through and around;
Ball flew down the fairway with great leaps and bounds

Nick was dressed all in plaid, from his head to his toes,
His clothes were all branded with logos like pros.
He twirled his driver a bit just for show,
Then walked down the fairway, elf-caddy in tow.

Short iron in hand; his second swing keen,
The ball landed soft with a plop on the green.
His eyes twinkled bright as he laughed Ho, Ho, Ho.
His beard was as white as the ball and the snow

Nick took his putter; went straight to the green,
Stood at his ball and surveyed the scene
Then making a stroke without saying a word,
He sent that ball rolling ten feet for a bird.

He spotted me then, and called for his sleigh
And quick as a flash they were all on their way
But I heard him exclaim as he drove out of sight
“Happy golfing to all, and to all a good night.”

by John Retzer, 2023