‘Twas the night before Round 1, at Colonial’s green, Not a golfer was stirring, the course was pristine. The Charles Schwab Challenge was ready to shine, With fairways like velvet and greens cut just fine. The pins had been placed with the utmost of care, In hopes that great legends soon would be there. The grandstands stood silent, the scoreboards aglow, Awaiting the drama the morning would show. The bunkers were raked and the tee boxes set, With whispers of history we’d never forget. From Hogan’s great stride to more recent acclaim, Each blade of grass seemed to whisper a name. The caddies were nestled, their yardage books tight, Dreaming of birdies and pars through the night. While visions of trophies and roars from the crowd Danced in the minds of the field, strong and proud. The merchandise tents were perfectly stocked, The gates for the fans were ready, unlocked. TV crews had their cameras in place, Preparing to broadcast each moment with grace. And out on the practice green...