The Champion
The Champion

The Champion easy guitar chords by Adam Sandler

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Guitar
Tuning

E A D G B E

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Transpose

0

Capo
  • C

  • Eb

    6
  • G

  • Ab

    4
  • C

  • Eb

    6
  • G

  • Ab

    4
  • Verse 1
    The Champion 

    Donald: Welcome 
    back on this glorious 
    sunday afternoon 
    for the 
    final round of the 
    Enbuary classic. 

    The legendary 
    Champion 
    is now approaching 
    the 18'th tee 
    off with an 
    insomauntible 8th 
    stroke lead. 

    The 
    Champion: Well let's wrap 

    this thing up 

    Donald: The 
    gallery lets 
    the champion know 
    what a fine 
    three days of golf 
    he has 
    had. The always charming 
    Champion 
    is now taking time 
    to high 
    five a young 
    spectator 
    and the boy, 

    the boy is 
    awestruck. 
    Haha, 
    the gallery 
    erupts into delight 

    Random 
    person in the gallery: Go get 

    them champ! 

    Donald: Yes Yes. 
    I think it 
    would be 
    hard to find 
    in any 
    sport a champion 
    who is as beloved 
    as this one. 
    And the encouraging 
    gal
    lery 
    goes silent. 
    Eight strokes 
    ahead of the pack, 

    the Champion 
    slowly 
    starts 
    his back 
    swing. 

    (Honking car horn) 

    Champion: Four! (Hit the golf ball.) 


    Donald: Oh no 
    no! 
    Apparently the honking 
    horn had 
    some sort of concentration 

    effect 
    on the champion's 
    usual 
    monstrous drive. 

    Champion: Is that 

    Greag normen's kid or something? 

    (Gallery begins 
    to laugh.) 

    Donald: The Champion shakes 
    it off and makes 
    some sort of humorous 
    remark about 

    the horn to the 
    gallery and 
    they eat it up. 

    Champion: Let's get the ball back on the 

    field. 

    Donald: 
    Yes Yes, 
    well now 
    the Champion, 
    his Caddy, and 
    the elendent gallery 
    make their 
    way to the Champion's 
    ball, which 
    is unfortunately 
    larged next to a 
    very thick 
    tree route. 
    The champion and his 

    caddy talk 
    it over. 
    He; s going to play 
    it safe and punch out 
    with a 7 iron 
    with a 8 stroke lead 
    this is simply 
    smart play 
    by 
    the legendary 
    Champion. 
    He approaches 
    the ball. 
    let's 
    watch. 

    Champion: Take a swing 
    at the ball hitting 

    the tree route 
    in the process) 

    Donald: Oh, well 
    I. I don't think 
    that's what the Champion 
    had in mind when 
    he took that swing. 
    The ball is 
    now 
    10 yard
    s. um 
    into the 
    woods 
    after 
    ricoshaying off the 
    tree route, 

    and ther's a 
    look of pain on 
    the Champion's 
    face. He is shaking 
    his hands 
    as 
    if to say I 
    did not have 
    a strong enough 
    grip 
    on the club when 
    I hit the tree 
    route, 
    and my 
    hands are stinging 
    quite 
    badly. 

    Champion: (Start Grunting) 

    Donald: The Champion 
    is starting 
    to mutter 
    some obscenities 
    about the car 
    horn, 
    which if you just 
    joined us blew 
    earlier 
    during the champion's 
    back swing 
    at the 
    18'th tee off. 

    Well 
    now his caddy 
    and friend of 
    25 years, Mr. 
    Skipijankings, is doing 
    every thing he can 
    to get the champion's 
    mind back on track. 

    Skipijankings: (Say line during: is doing 
    every thing he can...) Forget about the car horn, 

    let's just win this thing! 

    Champion: Hahah, you're right. 


    Donald: What wonderful 
    veteran 
    words of wisdom. 
    The Champion nods 
    in agreement, 

    and heads into 
    the woods to set 
    up for his third 
    shot 
    which he will have 
    to play out of 
    a dreadfully 
    muddy 
    lie. 
    He's sticking 
    with his 
    7 iron 
    closes 
    the club face 
    a little. 
    He starts his swing. 

    Champion: (Swing 
    at 
    ball) 

    Donald: And the ball did not move, 

    um 
    if any
    thing it's 
    a little deeper 
    in the mud. 

    Champion: What 
    is this f**king quick sand?! 


    Donald: The Champion is now 
    conferring with 
    coarse 

    marshal, David 
    Canner

    Champion: What do I do next? 

    David: Gonna have to 
    drop one. 

    Donald: And 
    yes i. it 
    has been ruled that 
    his ball is 
    unplayible, he 

    will take a drop 
    and a one stroke 
    penally. 

    Champion: (Start laughing a bit too 

    hard as if you where drunk) 

    Donald: and the Champion 
    is now laughing 
    very hard, 
    uh one might say a little 
    too hard, 

    but none of the 
    less, he drops 
    his new Areo Fly 
    Ball and 
    resumes play. 

    Gallery: (Start to 
    clap) 

    Donald: Back with his 
    trusty 
    3 wood, the 
    Champion lines 

    up his shot. 
    He 
    starts his back 
    swing. 

    Champion: (Fart) 
    Donald: He 
    flatuates. Stops 
    his swing, and 
    steps away from 
    his ball, and 

    Verse 2
    whispers something too his 

    caddy, Mr. 
    Skipijankings. 

    Skipijankings: Wha? What do you mean 

    you got to take a 
    Shit? 

    Champion: I've got to shit. 

    Skipijankings: Finish the f**king hole, we've 

    got to win this mother f**ker! 

    Random man in gallery: Jesus Christ man! 

    Donald: Well now 
    the Champion is staring 
    angrily at his 
    caddy. 
    He continues 
    to star for 
    quite some time, 

    and then 
    abruptly walks back 
    to his ball; not 
    taking much time set 
    up at all he swings, 

    Champion: (Swing at the ball.) 

    Connects, a 
    Smash of a hit! 


    Gallery: (applaud) 

    Donald: Starting 
    to slice, 
    oh no 
    it goes directly 
    into the center of 

    a man- made water 
    hazard! 

    Champion: You've got to be 

    f**king kidding me! 

    Donald: The 
    Champion slowly 
    walks over 
    to his golf 
    bag, 
    unzips it, 
    and pulls out, 
    hmm what I believe 
    is a 
    16 oz 
    silver beverage 
    container and 
    starts drinking 
    in 
    large gulps. 
    Why don't we 

    take this time 
    for a word from 
    our 
    sponcers, and then we will return 
    to our final round 
    coverage 
    of the 
    Enbuary Classic. 
    (Whispers: Well I have no idea what 
    he was thinking) 

    ANNOUNCER 
    GUY: What do 
    17 major championships, 
    over 
    6 million 
    dollars 
    in prize money, 
    and 
    the complete 
    domination of 
    the sport of golf 
    have in common? 
    Two 
    things: The Champion, 

    and Areo Fly 
    Balls. 
    Areo Fly 
    Balls, 
    they just seem 
    to go further. 
    If it's good 
    enough for the Champion, 
    don't you think 
    it's good enough 
    for you. 

    Donald: Well 
    welcome back to 
    our final round 
    coverage of 

    the Enbuary Classic. 

    Random Man: (Say this during the 

    beginning) PUT YOUR SHIRT BACK ON! 

    Champion: I'll 
    tell you one thing. no one's 

    f**king up me 
    in my hole. 

    Donald: As 
    we join the action, 


    Champion: Because 
    thay are f**king 

    ugly 

    Donald: we can see his 
    caddy 
    and long time 
    friend, Mr. 
    Skipijankings, trying to cox 
    the Champion 

    out 
    of the sand trap 
    where he is presently 
    on his back 
    making a 
    snow 
    angle. 

    Skipijankings: Get up! 
    GET THE F**K 
    UP. WHAT THE 

    F**K ARE YOU DOING?! 

    Champion: All right(get out 

    of hole) 

    Donald: Well the Cham
    pion is now 
    ceasing 
    his 
    softmories behavior 
    and is 
    climbing out 

    of the trap 
    onto 
    the 
    green. 

    Champion: Yee- Haw! (Charge at Skipijankings and 

    Tackle him) 

    Donald: The Champion 
    has just 
    tackled long 
    time friend, 

    Mr. 
    Skipijankings, I've never 
    scene any 
    thing like this. 

    Skipijankings: That's it! I'm getting 
    the F**k out of here! 

    You're f**ked up 
    dude, you need 
    some help! 

    Champion: Ya I need help 
    f**king your wife! 

    Skipijankings: F**k you! (Kick the Champion very 
    hard!) Don't you EVER 

    TALK about 
    my wife! I'll FUKING KILL 
    YOU MAN! 

    Donald: 
    Hear Hear! 
    Generally 
    Tempered, 
    long time friend Mr. 
    Skipijankings now 
    storming 
    off the forced 
    hole, 
    not 
    with out hearing 
    some 
    expletive 
    words 
    hurled at him 
    by 
    the 
    classless lord 
    of the lace. 
    Tears 
    streaming 
    down his face, 
    the Champion 
    is now alone 
    on the green 
    left 
    with mainly a 
    12 foot put. (Police sirens 
    are going off) Who would of thought 
    that 
    a horn honk 
    could bring about such 
    disaster 
    and disarray 
    in one 
    ma's life. 
    The Champion, 
    now lining up his put, 

    using the flag 
    stick 
    as his putter 
    for some odd 
    reason. 
    He takes a few 
    steps towards 
    the hole, 
    unbuckles his 
    belt, 
    The CHAMPION 
    is 
    defecating in the 
    cup, and 
    the gallery 
    has scene enough! 
    Not a moment 
    too soon the police 
    have arrived, 
    and are advancing 
    towards the champion 
    slowly. 
    In a last desperate 
    act, the Champion 
    holds the 
    flag stick as 
    if it were a large 
    lance from 
    medieval times, 
    and 
    runs full kilt 
    in 
    rage in his eyes 
    towards the 
    Officers. 

    Officers(Begin firing guns) 

    Donald: They Open fire. 
    The champion 
    has been shot. 
    He is 
    down on the green, 
    he's not 
    moving, 
    walking 
    inching 
    their way towards 
    the champion, 
    the officer 
    checks the champion's 
    pulse, 

    and signals 
    to the other police 
    that the Champion 
    is sure 
    enough dead. 
    If you are 
    just joining us 
    Sunday May 
    7'th at 
    2: 42 P.M. 
    perhaps the greatest 
    golfer of our 
    time 
    is diseased 
    at age 
    39. My God 
    have mercy on 
    his sole. 
    This has been Donald 
    Hefington saying 
    good day, 
    and good golf. 

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