In the days of old, when golfers were men,
Before Camilio, Sergio, Adam came to fame,
Wearing their tight shirts and girly white pants,
There was the Shades, cool was his middle name.
Who is the Shades? Also called Mr 59,
Yep, 59, not 69 to those with an unsound mind,
At Bob Hope, eagling the back nine,
The fans call it, it’s D-Squared Time.
What happened to the greatest player of all,
He won the Open and became number one,
For some strange reason, he started to free fall
Started hacking and playing like a bum.
D-squared, over and over he would flop,
Played worse than Ian Baker Finch in tights,
Hooks, shanks, duffs and top,
Chopping up the course day and night.
D-Squared is lost now Tiger gets the glory,
Years goes by but still he sucked,
His average is 96, sometimes 120,
His caddy’s favourite word now is “Oh, ******!”
D-Squared says he’s world’s top 10,
But he still played like he had two left hands,
He managed to tee it up at 2009 US Open,
What transpired then was magnificent.
Drive after drive he would stripe it down,
He would recover with birdies from triples,
His putts dropped in, with that rattling sound,
People waited for him to crack like he always does.
Come last round, on a sunny Monday,
The Shades birdies three in a row,
Tied for lead, two to play,
A Major winner for the worst player in the world??
Alas, 17th lip out done him in,
The gallery groans–what a great pity!
He missed a must make birdie on the eighteen,
Unknown guy wins the coveted trophy.
So DD, win Turnberry for us, will you?
Then you will stroll into Golf’s Hall of Fame
May your drives be straight, your putts be true
Here comes the Shades, cool is his middle name.