Anchors Away

As we all expected, the R&A and the USGA lowered the boom on anchored putters Tuesday.  It remains to be seen what the PGA and the PGA Tour will do in response, but we can expect things to be a bit tense for a while.

In the meantime, I thought a little song parody might be appropriate. I've been working on it for a couple of months now, searching for just the right song and approach... and I think I found it!

As I've said before, I don't use an anchored putter but I don't believe they give anybody an advantage either -- in fact, I believe players have been winning on the strength of good iron play, and anchored putters are actually holding them back. It didn't take me long to decide I would write an anthem for all those maligned players who wield anchored putters.

As for the music... it's possible that some of you have never heard the song Sex and Candy by Marcy Playground. However, it's the perfect tune for this song. Perfect, I say! For those of you who are unfamiliar with it, I'm sure you'll agree after you hear it. Here's the video:



Anchors Away (with apologies to Marcy Playground)

R&A
And the USGA had a lot to say
About them belly putters
   And the way they're swung
They hate the way they're held
   And how they're swung
They're gonna make us change

Anchors away -- it's not fair
'Cause my putting makes me swear
Now they're casting devious stares at my mechanics
Mama, they're surly and they're mean, yeah
Yeah Mama, vindictive and obscene -- bigots

Now "the Man"
Is coming down on me because he don't give a damn
About my yippy putting stroke --
   My game is done
He broke my magic wand --
   My game is done
I just can't make the change

Anchors away -- it's not fair
They're not pulling out their hair
But they're casting devious stares at my mechanics
Mama, they're surly and they're mean, yeah
Yeah Mama, vindictive and obscene -- bigots
Yeah, Hannibal Lecters on the green, yeah

Anchors away -- don't they care
That my game's in disrepair
While they're casting devious stares at my mechanics
Mama, they're surly and they're mean -- bigots
Yeah Mama, vindictive and obscene
They're Hannibal Lecters on the green, yeah
Their meddling just makes me blaspheme

Maybe Jake Trout will decide to record this one! It's got greatness written all over it...

I’ve Got a Driver

It's been a while since I did a song parody... and ironically, I didn't do this one for this blog. Occasionally my love of golf finds its way onto my Will Shakespeare for Hire blog, and I posted this parody there on Monday. But I liked it so much -- I've found myself singing it around the house -- that I decided to post it here as well.

I considered calling it Drive It Far since it's a parody of the Beatles' song Drive My Car, but I've Got a Driver is a line from the original song and just seems to fit the mood of the song better.

I hope you guys like it. Since we're in the lull between golf seasons, it seemed like a good time to have a little fun.

I’ve Got a Driver (with apologies to the Beatles)

My caddie said, “You should listen to me:
I’ve done this job for a decade or three.
The fairway’s narrow and there’s too many trees;
I know what you’re thinking, but won’t you please
Leave that big stick in the bag -
Yeah, I know my plan’s a drag -
But leave that big stick in the bag,
You’ll hit the ball better.”

I ought to listen; my friends say he’s good.
If he says “Hit an iron,” I know that I should.
There’s water short of the green if I dare…
But I’ve got a driver. I could get it there!
He says, “Leave that big stick in the bag -
Yeah, I know my plan’s a drag -
But leave that big stick in the bag,
You’ll hit the ball better.”

I disregarded my caddie’s advice,
Took out the driver and I hit a big slice.
My ball’s in the water, my score’s in the tank…
And I’ve got a driver and myself to thank.
Took that big stick from the bag -
Didn’t want to be a drag -
Took that big stick from the bag
And hit the ball badder…
Uh-oh, splish-splash, no
Uh-oh, splish-splash, no
Uh-oh, splish-splash, no

Suspicious Fines

I really miss Jake Trout and the Flounders. (For those of you too young to remember, Peter Jacobson and some friends used to record song parodies to raise money for charity. The Flounders essentially broke up when harmonica player Payne Stewart was killed back in 1999. Now all we have is the Golf Boys. Oh oh oh.) I want to coax them back into the recording studio. But how?

"Easy," I said to myself. "Jake's a recording star. All I need to do is offer him some new surefire Top40 hits and he'll be helpless to resist!"

Consequently I've started a new category here on the old blog called song parodies where I will occasionally add some new songs that Jake will be unable to resist. Here's my first effort, a romantic ballad about the Tour's refusal to admit that players have been fined. The song, like the debaters, seems unable to determine whether this is a good thing or not...

Suspicious Fines (with apologies to Elvis)

I plug in a trap
I can't hack out
And so I drop the F-bomb, baby
No one can see
What the Tour does to me
When they try to stop the words I say

But still my fans hear rumors
Of suspicious fines
No one can end these rumors
It's an awkward time

When trouble starts at home
And won't leave me alone
I tell the press my season's ended now
But things get worse -- I know
That every evening show
Will speculate that I'm suspended now

So all my fans hear rumors
Of suspicious fines
No one will end these rumors
It's an awkward time

If only the truth were known
And the talk not so overblown
Then perhaps I could atone
To my fans and let them know I really paid my dues, ooh, yeah

I just want to curse
Though it makes things worse
Exploding like a supernova
I can't ever tell --
That gets me fined as well
And starts this crazy farce all over

(Don't you know I'm) plugged in a trap
I can't hack out
So here's another F-bomb, baby
(repeat to fade)

I wonder if I'll get a Grammy for this one? Call me, Jake!