While a man was golfing in Fife
a funeral cortege was arife,
his head bowed in prayer
at this somber affair
to pay last respects to his wife!
There once was an Olympic swimmer
Who accidently ate Viagra for dinner
His Speedo grew tight
He was awarded that night
A gold medal as the pole-vault winner
If a golfer who’s clumsy and falls
Loses grip on the clubs that he hauls
He'd trip on a trap
With wood in his lap
And have problems in finding his balls!
for Craig Cornish's limerick contest
There was a man from faraway lands.
He held a golf club in his right hand.
He said this to me.
What is that I see?
No club in your mitt, or ball to hit.
-For Contest Golf Limerick
Was out playing golf just for fun
With Father O’Toole in the sun
When club from hand burst
Hit priest as he cursed
And I hit his first holy one
All emotions and hopes exchanging through a common fax
singing songs of victory and toasting a beer to relax
priding on a rich history
moving in one chemistry
mock us when we lose and face the inevitable axe.
Under the lights on Friday night.
High school football starting to ignite.
Merciless to everyone.
This is war, not for fun.
Winning state is a beautiful sight.
There was a time when I stood tall
Especially in college, playing NCAA Volleyball.
Oh, the trips we went on to the various meets
Winning and losing in those much vaunted heats.
We weren't great then, now I can't jump at all.
Hyperbole is a sports cast
Announcers have egos so vast
My ears must have rest
From this lambasting pest
Collection of morons amassed
Author's note: Is it getting worse, or is it just me?
Most balls people pitch, roll, or fling.
They kick them or strike them with zing.
But for lazy old me
I like tirelessly
to stand, flick my wrist and go “ping!”
For Joseph Soper's the Sports Shorts Poetry Contest
Tiger was a young golfer quite good
But didn't shoot as straight as he should
He'd stray out of bounds
While making his rounds
Because he couldn't master his wood.
We're angry! What sports fan can blame us?
There hasn't been one loss for Jameis
But off-the-field ruckus
Makes sportscasters muck us
Once famous, now Jameis just shames us
*Written about former FSU quarterback Jameis Winston's run ins with the law.
Golfers ahead were really slow
because their dead balls just wouldn't go
we offered them beer,
later we found cheer--
they stepped aside to let it outflow.
I learned to golf the following way;
That after each stroke you shout, ‘foreplay!’
Then when you get up
You shoot for the cup,
And if asked give an instant replay.
For Craig's Golf Limerick contest
In our heads the season was far from over
so we played a game in late September.
He said, "before the sun sets
can we not take a rest?"
"But we already are, this is baseball remember?"
The slice of the skates creates
An atmosphere of greats
They fly on the ice
Not the least bit of nice
A game of ego awaits.
The little boy said to his father,
I wish I could drive the ball farther.
He said to his son,
By time we are done,
Your ball will "lie" just past the others.
Coach Belichick must have stumbled
New England gets the Jet’s jumbled
Game signals to read
All exposed—was this deed
An interception play fumbled?
It is now the season of fall.
Are you ready for some football?
It comes on Monday night.
A spectator’s delight.
There is excitement and fun for all.
The Big Football Game
By Elton Camp
For the game Ralph had the dough
So tickets he hunted to and fro
The party liquor splashed
Ralph ended up smashed
Thus, to the game, he forgot to go
I'm just not an athletic go-getter.
Won't catch me in a teams scarf or sweater.
But what I watch on TV,
That always does it for me,
Wrestling- and the dirtier the better!!!
What thing seems to make men King Kong?
It lies under Michael Phelps’ thong
With each stroke of grace
See a free style freebase
That huge bulging spot is a bong
Float like a butterfly sting like a bee
Dancing and prancing, “Frazer can’t hit me”
Frazer’s punch was a killer
Smoking hot in Manila
Refutes the Rope a dope prophet Ali!!
For Contest; My Favorite Sports_ Limerick
For and in honor of Royal Trrevino
So you think you’re going to hole me
Teed off well and on the green rolled me
Looked like hole in one
Then all hope was gone
When old albatross swooped and stole me
The green was bespeckled with putters
Till 'long came a singer, Miss Sutters
She started to sing
The golfers did swing
And now, poor Miss Sutters, she stutters
Entered in contest "Old or New in Five or Less." Placing: first
Catagory: Humorous, Old Poem