Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the workshop
Not a single tool would sit idle, most passed down from his late Pop.
The head covers were placed in a box with care,
In hopes that Uncle Nicholas’s new golf clubs would soon be there.
While his wife and children were nestled in their beds,
Robert began unpacking Uncle Nick’s heads.
With a beverage by his side and his faithful dog’s head on his lap,
He took a swig and carefully removed each head’s bubble wrap.
When all of the sudden there arose such a clatter,
Larry checked his smart phone to see what was the matter.
A weather alert calling for snow but starting with sleet,
By the end of the weekend the wet stuff could be measured in feet.
The two florescent light bulbs in the shop were aglow,
Gave the luster to his clubmaking project below.
When, what to his wondering eyes should appear,
But a Juggernaut driver, eight shinny high COR irons and more Hireko golf gear.
With only hours left before midnight, he had to be quick,
He had to remember all those clubmaking tricks.
More rapid than bogeys at his home course, out they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!
“Now Weigh! now, Sort! now, Measure and Snip!
On, Sanding! On, Epoxy! on, on Ferrule and then Grip!
To the top of the workbench! no detail was too small!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away and install!”
As his clubmaking skills increased with each try,
The clubs meet without an obstacle, and set aside to dry.
So all those clubmaking videos he watched on YouTube gave him a clue,
With a rack full of golf clubs to prove, and his Uncle Nick’s too.
And then, in a twinkling, he took a look at the clock
In no time at all the fast setting epoxy was hard as a rock.
He drew each head to the belt sander as evident by the sound,
Down came the ferrules until they were all perfectly round.
He was dressed in his shop apron, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were kept clean from the graphite and soot.
A bundle of high traction grips he pulled from a rack,
That he just received from his Fed Ex driver named Mack.
His eyes-how they twinkled! learned gripping from his cousin Gary!
This part of the project would be the least scary!
Clamped, aligned and tape peeled from the liner, solvent ready to flow.
By the time he finished, those grips looked like they were installed by a pro.
The stub of a grip he held tight in his fists,
He waggled each club with a flick of the wrists.
He tried the putter, even though it stuck into his round belly,
Then he shook and he laughed, like a bowlful of jelly!
He placed labels on the shafts he had safe on a shelf,
And he laughed and wished he made the clubs for himself!
With wink of his eye and a twist of the head,
Soon he knew he had nothing to dread.
He spoke not a word, but continued to finish his work,
And filled the box with shiny new clubs, then turned with a smirk.
And after wrapping the box by the artificial tree,
And giving a nod, placed the package next to the 50” 4K Ultra HD TV!
He sprang to his feet, to head off to slumber,
Proud of himself there was nothing he forgot to remember.
But he quietly exclaimed, ‘fore he turned off the light
“Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!”