Misadventures on the Golf Course Part I

I took up golf about ten years ago. It was about the time that my husband took it up, because I insisted my son take it up. My son was about ten at the time and has never been athletically inclined. He’s now approaching 21 and still not athletically inclined, but he can bang a mean Steinway. He can also golf fairly well.  Golf is the one sport where literally anyone can participate, whether or not you are athletically inclined. In fact, old duffers and youngsters with no clue are usually the best at golf.

Now me, I’m really not very good at golf. In fact, you could say I’m awful. I tend to dig up a lot of fairway. In fact, I hate to hit the ball if it’s on the fairway, because I’m afraid I’ll mess up the grass. I’m fairly decent off the tee, but it depends. Some days I can really nail the putts too. I’ve shown some brilliant moves as well as some downright stinkers. If I’m in a good mood, if I’m not paired up with a Tiger Woods  wannabe, if I’ve had some liquid refreshment beforehand, I can look like a genius. If not, I can look like a blind golfer. I’m not kidding when I say that I can sometimes throw the ball much farther than I can hit it with a golf club.

I have many golf stories, even though I now only golf maybe once a month. Back when my son lived here and was on the golf team in high school, we probably went out a few times a week. We don’t seem to have the time for it anymore, even though he moved away. I don’t do it to beat the pants off my opponent; I like fresh air and the fact that I can do this by myself. The only person I want to beat is me. Some days that’s easier said than done. I’m the kind of person who has always taken two steps forward and one step back.

You have to admit that golf courses are really pretty. They seem to attract a lot of wildlife, too. One time, my son hit a flying goose with a long drive. I’m not sure if the goose survived. It was too bad, because usually he hits straight into the woods. He’s hit balls there and deer have emerged, shaken but alive. Speaking of the woods, it’s usually more fun to hit out of them, plus the bonus is that you can find a lot of stray balls in there. I would not recommend looking for stray balls in Florida, where there are alligators or in the Bahamas, where some of the insects are bigger than my palm.

I once hit my husband in the neck with a ball. The ridiculous thing is that he was in the cart right across from my tee box. Yes, my tee shot went laterally. (I happen to be the only one who can do that.) For a long time after that, when I approached my tee box, he would yell “cover your neck” and proceed to back up to the black tees. Oh, yes, Mr. Demonic is a comedian.

When I first started golfing, I would have my own cart, and Mr. Demonics Senior and Junior would share a cart. This is because Ms. Mini-Demonic doesn’t golf. She thinks the clothes are ugly and make women’s butts look big. When she was younger, she would go just to ride, but now she has other things to do. The other two would circle my ball in the fairway, and proceed to make faces at me while I lined up my shot. If you’ve ever seen Mr. Demonic Junior’s face, you’d know that he’s his own cartoon when it comes to facial features. This would either leave me steaming mad, or laughing so hard I would fall to the ground.

Thinking about golf makes me wish it were nicer out.

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9 Responses

  1. Golf can be a great family thing as long as folks don’t get too serious.

    My daughter made sure of that. Years ago she hit a bad shot, and I went over the grip, telling all the advantages of the Vardon vs. the ten finger grip,etc.

    She put he hand on he hip, looked me straight in the eye and said, “Now Daddy, I’ve only been on this earth six short years!”

    Showed me she did.

    Dr. B

  2. I too, am quite adept at the lateral shot.

  3. Dr. B., you are a far too serious golfer to be gracing my page, but I’m happy you stopped by. I’ve thought up some more good stories for next time. I’ve got a million of ’em… 🙂

    NO! Jojo- I thought the lateral shot was mine and mine alone.

    It’s almost warm enough to golf. Twenty-eight more degrees, and I might dust off the clubs.

  4. My dad has broken windows, killed ducks, and maimed squirrels on the golf course. I’ve never been able to stand the idea of golfing … the swing is so undignified. I have the same conceptual problem with bowling.

  5. I signed up for golf lessons when my ex took up golfing. I had taken gold in high school and had enjoyed it but had never been on a golf course, at least not for golfing.

    So lesson one I showed up and we went through the basics on addressing the ball, and the swing and follow through. The teacher said I was okay and gave me a bucket of balls to practice with. He went inside to get a drink and came out about twenty minutes later, drink in hand. He nodded and smiled and said I was doing fine. He gave me a few pointers as hit the rest of the balls (I think I was on bucket number 2). Then he said to finish the bucket and he’d see me the following week and went inside.

    Lesson number two, I showed up, got my bucket of balls and went out to start hitting some balls until the golf pro showed up, as I had been instructed. Well, he was out there already. He was flirting with a woman about two spots over from me. He remained with her for the entire hour lesson. He totally ignored me. After the lesson, I went inside and asked for a refund for the next six lessons I had already paid for.

    I never went back.

  6. I’m with ya, I’m really not that great at golf either. A good round once a month is nice though.

  7. If I had any ambition, I would learn to golf. Many of the BECG’s business deals are made on the course.

    I’d rather read about your (mis) adventures. 🙂

  8. My comment on this is too long to fit in this box. I’ll have to email it to you in the morning.

  9. These are funny, and I live beside a golf course, so I can tell many bad golf stories. That and I have a collection of about a thousand golf balls that have been hit errant and landed in or near my house.

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