
In Praise Of Golfing In Winter
Cold winds gusting from the north, Four proud golfers setting forth; Across the links they bravely go, Through freezing air and drifting snow; 18 holes? No doubt. No fear, Bloody hell, they’ve earned a beer.

In Praise Of Golfing In Winter
Cold winds gusting from the north, Four proud golfers setting forth; Across the links they bravely go, Through freezing air and drifting snow; 18 holes? No doubt. No fear, Bloody hell, they’ve earned a beer.