mrcaddie:Bye.
garypinhunter
1,041 Posts
12-13-2017 6:58 AM
Yes many WGT members made and will make this a great thing. Here is a little poem I but together last year in honor of MRCADDIE. Hope you enjoy
‘Twas the night before Santa s give away, when all thro’ the house,
Not a WGT player was stirring, not even their mouse;
The clubs were all nestled in the bag with great care,
In hopes that MRCADDIE soon would be there;
The golf balls were snuggled secure in their sleeves,
While visions of birdies flew past the weeds,
And Mama in her ‘kerchief, and I in my golf cap,
Had just settled our PC down for a long winter’s nap-
When out on my I Pad there arose such a rash,
I sprang from the bed to see another Country Club Clash.
Away to my Laptop I flew like a drive,
Quickly turned on the power, in hopes I could thrive.
The moon on the breast of a new WGT day,
Gave the lustre of new irons a look my way;
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a message the server was busy that bought on a tear,
With a new message in the forums so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be MRCaddie playing St. Nick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and did not call them by name:
“Now! Ton Paul, now! TC, now! you, and you,
“On! wgt, on! wgt, on! Maintenance and Update;
“To the top of the forum you should Bump!
“Now post away! Post away! Post away all!”
As dry leaves before the wild hurricane fly,
When we meet with an obstacle, rant to the sky;
So up to the main forum the coursers they flew,
With the messages full of please give me this club or ball:
And then in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the gifts they came with a bound:
He was dress’d all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnish’d with fescue and soot;
A bundle of clubs was flung on his back,
And he look’d like a caddie just opening his pack:
His eyes - how they twinkled! his dimples how merry,
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry;
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow;
The stump of a tee he held tight in his teeth,
And the grass it encircled his head like a wreath.
He had a broad face, and a little round belly
That shook when he laugh’d, like a bowl full of jelly:
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laugh’d when I saw him in spite of myself;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to my Ipad,
And fill’d all me with new clubs; I was so glad,
And laying his finger aside of his nose
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose.
He sprung to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew, like the down of a thistle:
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight-
Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good game.