Ode to a Calibrator

There was a young sportsman called Reid
Who at golf was so keen to succeed
His outfits are smart
So he sure looks the part
And his drives fly so far at great speed

His swing is quite slow and so languid
To be frank and ever so languid
So annoying to watch
The result of each shot
And three points are so often recorded

Then at Huntswood he met with some mates
And announced that he how calibrates
But it took him four holes
To get sorted, poor soul
So confused was he by mistakes

But the sun then shone on poor Alan
And he started to play well as he can
He found his lost hat
Changed clothes and with that
Calibrated with ease as he can

RP May 2021