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'Twas the Night before the Masters
Editor's Note: Be sure to follow @_DanDaly on Twitter this golf season for his off-the-cuff remarks and entertaining commentary!

'Twas the night before the Masters, and all through the south,
The only thing you could hear was Jim Nantz's mouth.

The azaleas were planted by the greens with care,
And not a single person wanted to see Martha Burk there.

The players were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of green jackets danced in their heads.

When down Magnolia Lane there arose such a clatter,
Hootie sprang from his bed to see what was the matter.

He opened the window with a shotgun in hand,
Hootie would do anything to protect this sacred land.

When, what to his wondering eyes should appear,
but a large RV and John Daly pounding a beer.

With the other hand clutching a little white stick,
He sure looked fat enough to be St Nick.

Hootie needed back-up, so he called them by name,
And he whistled, and shouted, and one by one they came!

"Now Tiger! now Vijay! now, Ernie and FIGJAM!
On, Jack! On, Arnie! On, Hogan and Snead!

So up to Butler Cabin they came as fast as they could,
each of them armed with a fairway wood.

And then, in a twinkling, they heard from a far,
John Daly in a drunken stupor, "I just want to shoot par."

He was covered with logos, from his head to his foot,
and his clothes were all tarnished with donut sprinkles and soot.

A case of Miller Lite he had flung on his back,
and he looked like a bootlegger, just opening his pack.

He had a broad face, and a big round belly,
that shook when he laughed, like a bowl full of jelly!

He was chubby and plump, and taking shots two at a time,
to stop him now would be just short of a crime!

He gave Hootie a wink and then dropped his head,
Long John Daly needed to be put to bed.

So the legends all gathered and they went to work,
but he woke up long enough to call FIGJAM a jerk.

And laying in his RV with a keg by his side,
He told Jack he'd spot him two shots a side!

Then Daly sprang to his feet, and fired up the RV,
And said, "Hootie, these boys are coming with me."

With Hooter's on the horizon, Daly drove out of sight,
"Happy Masters to all, and to all a good-night!"


This poem was originally published in 2004 prior to Augusta allowing women to play.

  
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