The clubs rest in their bag all clean and nice, in hopes that Jack Nicklaus would give some advice

The four stinky golfers nestled all snug in their beds, while visions of zero handicaps danced in their heads

And Tom in his onesie with feety’s and a cap, had just settled in for his quick disco nap

With an old persimmons driver, so lively and quick, I knew in a minute it must be Jack Nick

More rapid than eagles his courses he did claim, and he whistled and shouted…dude, this guy had game

Now Greg, now Chris, now Tom, now Pete…You have a long way to go before me you can beat