A frustrated golfer's bluesy moan of another tragic day

7 MP3 Songs in this album (22:14) !
Related styles: ROCK: Americana, SPOKEN WORD: Storytelling

People who are interested in Dave Edmunds Mojo Nixon Randy Newman should consider this download.


Details:
"TALKING TO THE BALL": Every hacker's heartache.

Theyâre all here: The golfers who watch their putt lip out at the last instant. The ones who get in dutch with their wives for playing too many rounds. The ones who solve the frustration of the sport by lowering their expectations. Who try to talk their ball into a straight flight pattern. Who dream about a hole-in-one so vividly it seems real. Who bemoan handicap that has doubled to 24. Who remember a small bit of golf wisdom that changed their lives.

Bob Bakerâs CD of original songs about the idiocy of golf, âTalking to the Ball,â provokes laughs and groans and more laughs and more groans. Its honesty and appeal lies in the fact that the 7 songs were written and sung by a high-handicap (don't ask) golfer.

Bob, a lifelong Los Angeles resident, is a freelance journalist and songwriter who spent 34 years in the newspaper business, 26 of them at the Los Angeles Times.

The lyrics:

1. TALKING TO THE BALL

Every time I slice you
over the fence
I start a conversation
Donât make one bit of sense
Itâs a chat you donât take part in
Though I wish you could
Maybe you could tell me what Iâm I doinâ wrong with my lousy 5 wood
Like a homeless guy screaming outside city hall
I think Iâm playing golf but Iâm just talking to the ball.

Talking to my ball, telling it to sit
On the green then watching
it decide it will not quit
Bouncing towards the high grass, reminding us all
We think weâre playing golf but weâre just talking to the ball.

Most the guys I play with seem to think their ball can hear
When you see this for the first time, itâs positively weird
They wait until they hit the ball, and then they start to beg
As though the ball could fly and land and walk away on legs
âOh, no, get outta that sand trap!â
You can hear them call
They think theyâre playing golf but theyâre just talking to the ball.

Talking to the ball, telling it to fade
Like I can intimidate it, make it afraid
Going where it wants to, no warnings at all
I think Iâm playing golf but Iâm just talking to the ball

INSTRUMENTAL

The next time I drive you 120 yards on the ground
Iâm gonna summon up my anger, spread it all around
Iâm gonna grab my red Sharpie and write âBADâ across your front
Iâm gona stop talking to you, âcause you canât even grunt
Iâm gonna buy my balls at Wal-Mart, cheapest of âem all
Iâm gonna be playing golf instead of talking to the ball
Iâm gonna be hitting, not talking
(Repeat 3 times)

No more talking to the ball
(Repeat 2 times)

2. MY HANDICAP
My problem started with missing short putts
I fixed that, but I tore my rotator cuff
I rehabbed that, but I weakened my drive
Now I need some preacher to keep hope alive
For my handicap
My handicap,mMy handicap
has doubled to 24

The Mens Club posted new results today
Iâm 97th in a field of 98
And the guy Iâm beating just had a stroke
I got to wonder if heâll catch me or whether Iâll choke on
My handicap, my handicap, m handicap
Iâm limping down an un-fairway
Like a former president and hacker once said, âPlease, feel my painâ

I used to have my pride, I used to walk tall,
Now I shake like a leaf addressing the ball.
I canât show my face in the locker room
The 19th holeâs a beer pit of gloom
In my nightmares, I arise
to find my handicap is bigger than my waist size
I suffer from the worst glitch of âem all:
Hittinâ on the upper third of the ball.
Shame, yâknow, is a serious disorder,
It can give you the yips, drive you to murder--so
I hope the club will soon update
The stat that has made me the guy to berate
For my handicap
(Repeat 5 times)
My handicap
Limping down an un-fairway

3. LOW EXPECTATIONS

My shrink says to me: âYouâre a happy little guy
All my other hackers whine, could you please tell me why
Nothing ever gets to you?â
I said âDoc, itâs a simple equation.
I greet every hole with
Low expectationsâ

You wonât hear me cussing myself
When my chip shot soars somewhere else
I'm not counting on precision when I play this game, Son
A good walkâs never spoiled with
Low expectations

Hereâs what I mean

When I line up my tee shot
I donât know where itâs goinâ
Itâs always a journey, thereâs no way of knowinâ
3 putts on a par 4 doesnât get me uptight
Cuz I expect nothing--and Iâm always right

INSTRUMENTAL

My message to
You Doc, and to all your hackers is:
Be the antithesis of the Green Bay Packers
Adversity?
Loss?
Disappointment?
Fear?
Well, make âem your friends,
Have em over for a beer
Out goes Mister Righteous Indignation
Letâs welcome home Mister Low Expectations.

SPOKEN:
You know, Doc, it kinda kills me the way you sit there and nod and never speak. You ever play golf? What? Miniature golf? Are you Crazy? Oh, sorry I used the C-word. My bad. Lemme buy you a drink later on today. Just rememberâ¦the glass is gonna be half empty

4. DONâT BLOW THIS PUTT

On the 18th hole
I measured it good
A 6-foot putt
Was all that stood
Between me and a 75, my all-time best
Iâd shot 2-under on the front 9
In all my years Iâd
never felt so fineâso hot, so preciseâ¦before
And now I whispered my mantra

Whatever you do, donât blow this putt
Whatever you do donât blow this putt
Whatever you do--donât blow this putt.

I was jinxing myself, tempting fate
I was hurrying, I didnât want to wait
Didnât wanna lose
The great vibe I had today

Not just the eagle on a par 4, or the 80-yard birdie chip or, whatâs more,
The hundred ninety-yard approach shot that put me here, saying

Whatever you do, donât blow this putt
Whatever you do, donât blow this putt
Whatever you do--donât blow this putt

INSTRUMENTAL

I knelt behind it, for the downhill break
Looked again, thought Iâd made a mistake
Was it gonna break left?
Was it gonna break left?
I felt like screaming: donât miss this putt!
I pushed it right a touch too much
It broke left on lip and did a three-sixty
I turned away I couldnât bear to watch
Another lip-out--I knew Iâd blown that putt!

SPOKENâ¦MUSIC FADES OUT:

Stop the tape.
Let the sucker make it

MUSIC FADES INâ¦

I felt like screaming: Donât miss this putt!
pushed it right, a touch too much
It broke left on the lip and did a three sixty,
Which meant it was coming out but gravity took control,
sucked it in the hole and for once--
I didnât blow that putt!!!

5. I DREAMED I MADE AN ACE ON 12

Well I dreamed I had an ace on twelve
And itâs funny cause it seems
That my game is full of bogeys
Until I begin to dream

Twelveâs a hard one, with an uphill green that plays two hundred four from the whites
To get on, Iâd need my driver, but Iâd get laughed at⦠as somebodyâs wife.

So I take⦠my four-iron And I slow down my backswing,
And my hips come forth and I feel great contact and wait for what my dream will bring

Well the ball comes down and somebody says, âHey Bobby, that suckerâs going in!â
When all I know is that I hit it straight; whatâs got into him?

Then I see it bounce upon the apron, and I see it bounce again
And one more bounce, till it hits the flagstick,
gives up, and falls in.

And I dreamed that I had an ace on 12
Beers all around for everybody on 12
Thatâs my dream
(Repeat 4 times)

6. JOEâS APOLOGY TO WANDA

Joe walked up to his door with his clubs and saw
The moving van and his mother-in-law
And his wife, Wanda, teary-eyed, with a goodbye card
Wanda said, âJoe youâre on shaky ground,
You been playing too many rounds
Now all I want you to do is listen to meâ

...but Joe stopped her, and he said:
Forgive me baby, I put golf first
I done some bad things to you, but this oneâs the worse
I couldnât see past me, I deserved Godâs curse
Forgive me baby, I put golf first

Wanda cried, then grabbed Joeâs clubs and swung, crumbling Joe like a cheap old rug and he lay there on the pavement with a broken leg, and heard her say

âIâve dreamed about leaving a hundred times before. Youâve turned into a crashing bore. God may forgive you, but I canât any more."

Joe tried again: â Forgive me baby, I put golf first,â

But Wanda hit him with a 3-iron, and then she held up her purse, and said:
See this, Joey, I cleaned out all the accounts,
Iâll see you next time in a hearse.â
Iâm gonna find a better man whoâll put me first

SPOKEN:
Well a lot of water went under the bridge. Joe became a PGA regular and submitted âI Put Golf Firstâ to a songwriter magazine contestâand won. Wanda took note of this, and called a girlfriend who was a secretary at âAmerican Idol,â which is where, on June 4, 2008, Joe and Wanda reconciled in a duet that ended

Forgive me baby
Forgive me baby
Forgive me baby
I put golf first.

7. ARE YOU COMMITTED TO YOUR SWING?

I was 12, hitting range balls
When an old man thought he saw some flaws in my game
He asked me, âBoy, are you committed
to your swing?â

I was too dumb to understand
He said, âLook! Look at your hands
They sabotage your stance
You ainât lined up right
You donât stand a chance

Youâre almost there
But youâre trapped by proximity
Tilâ your body is committed to your swing,
Youâre not what you could be

He made me double check my shoulders and my waist
Only then was my swing of aâliking to his taste
And when I thanked him he growled like bear
He said, âIâd rather puke than watch
someone get stuck at âalmost thereââ

INSTRUMENTAL

Almost there
Trapped by proximity
I figured out real quick
Thatâs not enough for me

Some day soon if iâm not dead
Iâm gonna write down what the old man said
and find â¦.some kid ⦠who i can scare
into committing to his swing
to committing to his swing
so he wonât get stuck at
almost there
almost there
almost there
almost there