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Talking to Ball: 7 Rock 'N' Roll Ballads About the
  • Artist: Bob Baker
  • Label: CD Baby
  • UPC: 634479915413
  • Item #: 1382380X
  • Genre: Rock
  • Release Date: 10/6/2008
  • This product is a special order
  • Rank: 1000000000
Price: $7.94

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Talking to Ball: 7 Rock 'N' Roll Ballads About the on CD

\'TALKING TO THE BALL\': Every hacker\'s heartache. They're 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 Baker's CD of original songs about the idiocy of golf, "Talking to the Ball," provokes laughs and groans and more laughs and more groans. It's 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 Don't make one bit of sense It's a chat you don't take part in Though I wish you could Maybe you could tell me what I'm I doin' wrong with my lousy 5 wood Like a homeless guy screaming outside city hall I think I'm playing golf but I'm 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 we're playing golf but we're 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, it's 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 "Oh, no, get outta that sand trap!" You can hear them call They think they're playing golf but they're 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 I'm playing golf but I'm just talking to the ball INSTRUMENTAL The next time I drive you 120 yards on the ground I'm gonna summon up my anger, spread it all around I'm gonna grab my red Sharpie and write "BAD" across your front I'm gona stop talking to you, 'cause you can't even grunt I'm gonna buy my balls at Wal-Mart, cheapest of 'em all I'm gonna be playing golf instead of talking to the ball I'm 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 I'm 97th in a field of 98 And the guy I'm beating just had a stroke I got to wonder if he'll catch me or whether I'll choke on My handicap, my handicap, m handicap I'm limping down an un-fairway Like a former president and hacker once said, 'Please, feel my pain' I used to have my pride, I used to walk tall, Now I shake like a leaf addressing the ball. I can't show my face in the locker room The 19th hole's 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 'em all: Hittin' on the upper third of the ball. Shame, y'know, 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: "You're a happy little guy All my other hackers whine, could you please tell me why Nothing ever gets to you?" I said "Doc, it's a simple equation. I greet every hole with Low expectations" You won't 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 walk's never spoiled with Low expectations Here's what I mean When I line up my tee shot I don't know where it's goin' It's always a journey, there's no way of knowin' 3 putts on a par 4 doesn't get me uptight Cuz I expect nothing--and I'm 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 'em your friends, Have em over for a beer Out goes Mister Righteous Indignation Let's 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 remember...the glass is gonna be half empty 4. DON'T 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 I'd shot 2-under on the front 9 In all my years I'd never felt so fine-so hot, so precise...before And now I whispered my mantra Whatever you do, don't blow this putt Whatever you do don't blow this putt Whatever you do--don't blow this putt. I was jinxing myself, tempting fate I was hurrying, I didn't want to wait Didn't wanna lose The great vibe I had today Not just the eagle on a par 4, or the 80-yard birdie chip or, what's more, The hundred ninety-yard approach shot that put me here, saying Whatever you do, don't blow this putt Whatever you do, don't blow this putt Whatever you do--don't blow this putt INSTRUMENTAL I knelt behind it, for the downhill break Looked again, thought I'd made a mistake Was it gonna break left? Was it gonna break left? I felt like screaming: don't 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 couldn't bear to watch Another lip-out--I knew I'd blown that putt! SPOKEN...MUSIC FADES OUT: Stop the tape. Let the sucker make it MUSIC FADES IN... I felt like screaming: Don't 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 didn't blow that putt!!! 5. I DREAMED I MADE AN ACE ON 12 Well I dreamed I had an ace on twelve And it's funny cause it seems That my game is full of bogeys Until I begin to dream Twelve's a hard one, with an uphill green that plays two hundred four from the whites To get on, I'd need my driver, but I'd get laughed at... as somebody's 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, "Hey Bobby, that sucker's going in!" When all I know is that I hit it straight; what's 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 That's my dream (Repeat 4 times) 6. JOE'S 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, "Joe you're on shaky ground, You been playing too many rounds Now all I want you to do is listen to me" ...but Joe stopped her, and he said: Forgive me baby, I put golf first I done some bad things to you, but this one's the worse I couldn't see past me, I deserved God's curse Forgive me baby, I put golf first Wanda cried, then grabbed Joe's 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 "I've dreamed about leaving a hundred times before. You've turned into a crashing bore. God may forgive you, but I can't any more.\' Joe tried again: " Forgive me baby, I put golf first," 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, I'll see you next time in a hearse." I'm gonna find a better man who'll put me first SPOKEN: Well a lot of water went under the bridge. Joe became a PGA regular and submitted "I Put Golf First" to a songwriter magazine contest-and won. Wanda took note of this, and called a girlfriend who was a secretary at "American Idol," 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, "Boy, are you committed to your swing?" I was too dumb to understand He said, "Look! Look at your hands They sabotage your stance You ain't lined up right You don't stand a chance You're almost there But you're trapped by proximity Til' your body is committed to your swing, You're not what you could be He made me double check my shoulders and my waist Only then was my swing of a'liking to his taste And when I thanked him he growled like bear He said, "I'd rather puke than watch someone get stuck at 'almost there'" INSTRUMENTAL Almost there Trapped by proximity I figured out real quick That's not enough for me Some day soon if i'm not dead I'm gonna write down what the old man said and find ....some kid ... who i can scare into committing to his swing to committing to his swing so he won't get stuck at almost there almost there almost there almost there.