I WAS ONLY NINETEEN
Jez & Reegs & Dame Lee saw the passing out of plans for the Moe Norman
And then recruited their cadets
’97 was the first we toured and it was Lee who booked the carts
We played Sorrento, The Dunes and then we left
And towns folk lined the footpaths as we marched to the first Tee
This photo that was taken shows we all look twenty-three
I remember missing fairways and overshooting greens
Oh yeah,…I bogeyed eighteen
From Cape Schanck hitting big hooks, to the sand at Moonah Links, we have been
In and out of bunkers now for yonks
But we charge up for the night, VB and dinner at the local
And a town bike scrubber looking for some chonk
So can you tell me, Regan, why we still don’t get to see
Our very own Moe grid girls boasting pairs of double D’s
They can serve us as we come and go
And hang around in jeans
But Andrew…make sure they’re nineteen
A two day Murray tour where the heat and mozzies got us on the front nine
And the back nine even worse
But you wouldn’t let your mate down ‘til you had that trophy won so we grit our teeth
And hacked and cussed and cursed
Then someone yelled out “Where’s PO’C?” and the bloke beside me swore
That he’d seen him there at brekky and at the pub the night before
But PO’C had thrown a rod that day and kicked back somewhere cool
But we found him; (said not sung) He was drinking tinnies by the pool.
And I can still see Deano drinking Bundies in the Portsea pub
On a 36 hour rec leave from his wife
And I can still hear Deano, lying snoring on the sofa and the next day
Was 18 holes of shite
Moe Norman’s legend never mentioned mud and crud and hail
But that Arctic day we played at Barwon shivers to this day
The Sunday at Barnbougle was pretty much the same
Then Jeststar…they fucked up our plane
So can you tell me Regan, why we still have yet to be
Somewhere north in Queensland with bikini clad caddies
They can hold our shafts and clean our heads
Put our balls up on the tee
But God help us if they’re under eighteen!
The Moe Norman Invitational 