Golfers

I am not making fun of golfers. But I just read a poem that my grandma e-mailed my mom, and that got my brain turning.
Okay, so golfers tend to get a lot of balls stuck in trees. And then they tend to wrap their clubs around the trees in frustration. You never really see soccer balls caught in a tree, and you only find baseballs stuck in a tree every once in a while. But if you ever climb a tree on a golf course or decide to go swimmig in the rivers (which I KNOW is against the rukes) I'll just say that you can start a golfball collection from what you'll find.
So here's a poem- and I'm just pulling it out from the top of my head, so it's probably not that good. Don't get your hopes up.

Today I took my bag to the course
The wind hit with incredible force
I thought that it might not be a good day
But I took out my club anyway
My first hit soared way out in space
(I thought I would hit someone in the face)
It careened toward the old oak
At first I thought that it was a joke
But as it got stuck in the branch
I thought that I would've been better off at the ranch
Because, you see, that I would be fined
For that was the ball that Tiger Woods signed.

Okay, I'm not a professional, but so what? Like I said before, I am not making fun of golfers so don't comment if you don't like it!