By Phil Taylor

Published Dec 20, 1959, Seattle Post-Intelligencer

How many names in golf do you recognize?


Don’t look now, but it’s Christmas time,

And a chance to greet the gang in rhyme;

To say hello to friend and pal,

To every golfing guy and gal.

Our best this day to the Publinks knight,

He wears a crown, does Billy Wright;

To the Fioritos, king-size clan,

To Harry Givan and Barkley, Dan.

Ruthie Jessen, her praises sing,

George Butterfield and R.C. King;

Pat Lesser, Miss Gunderson, too,

Ray Honsberger and Power, Lew.


Jack Ryan and A.M. Lee,

Vince Cazzetta (a golfer, he?);

John Hoetmer and Aliment, Joe,

Howie Odell and Bill Prochnau.

Charlie Reed, don’t need a gun,

Gene Counter, from the tee, a ton;

The Bennetts and Jonsons, under par,

Dick Haskell and Con Farrar.

John Severson and Tachell, Bob,

Jim Mallory and Marty Raab;

Johnny Thompson from Huskyville,

Charlie Mortimer and Derickson, Bill.


Joe Gottstein and Ed Pearsall,

Jake Werschkul and that ain’t all;

George Puetz and Thomas Page,

Johnny Griece, the golfing sage.

Annie Quast, and wouldn’t you know,

Steve Wertheimer and Lester Moe;

Loyd Nelson and Art Scarpello,

Caso, Maud and Caso, Nello.

Ewald Lindloff, lean and tall,

Jimmy Shriver, Johanson, Paul;

Golfers everywhere in town,

Don Taylor and Doctor Brown.


Hayden Shaner, bass and tall,

Don Dumpere and Pishue, Paul;

Bud Campbell and Don Page,

Naomi signs the current rage.

Mike Napoli, McCullough, Tim,

Ken Storey, a Bourne named Jim;

For Charlie Congdon, three big cheers,

For Cliff Warling and Billy Sears,

Raise your cup and drink a toast,

To Eddie Swanson and Richard Yost;

Rudy Mason and Endicott, Jerry,

To Georgie Skarich, Christmas, merry.


Bill Zongker and have a look,

Here’s Al Jones and Raymond Koch;

George Howard, round and jolly,

For Bill O’Brien, a sprig of holly.

Jack Walters and southpaw stick,

Kermit Rosen and Hendrickson, Dick;

Les Brainard, ear-muffs, please,

Kermit Zarley and Donnie Bies.

Ockie Eliason, Dom Vendetti,

Tommy Ellez and H. Umbinetti;

Ed O’Brien, Chieftain A.D.,

Joe Newberger, a gentleman, he.


Bob Houbregs, hook shots still,

Al Niemiec and Nollan, Bill;

Bob Littler and clothes to wear,

Gordy Richards and Jerry Fehr.

Billy Warner and Harris, Dell,

For Andy Nagy give a yell;

Tall Jim Owens, a golfer, too,

The Nordstrom duo follows through.

Kenny Tucker from Everett way,

Erv Parent and Sweeney, Ray;

Clarence Smith and Tyson, Ken,

The Colagrossis, Mike and Len.


Tom Everham, can’t forget him,

Tom Boucher, the North named Jim;

John Livingston, the Tindalls, two,

Wyatt Howard and Donald Due.

Among the things to do, we should,

Say a word for Johnny Wood;

For George Briggs and Irving Chelin,

For Eddie Green we’ll do some yellin’.

For Hans Turner, a golfing pal,

Paul Coyne and Leader, Al;

The verse just wouldn’t be so hot,

If Gordy Swanson we forgot.


The rhyme keeps going on and on,

For Bill Conroy and Foley, John;

For Berne Jacobsen… and now,

Time John Rudy took a bow.

Bob Ihlanfeldt and Kelly, Bill,

Bud Usher, we can’t stop until—

We say hello to Hogan, Stan,

Another lefty, Morgan, Dan.

Let’s call a halt, finis, the end,

As Cowboy Smith comes round the bend;

We’re running out of space to fill,


MERRY CHRISTMAS—from Taylor, Phil.