Goofy Dad Stories (8) – Adventures in Golf

Goofy Dad Stories (8) – Adventures in Golf

I have a somewhat spotty history with golf. I did not enjoy the game in the least. It’s too infuriating, tedious, expensive, and not even close to fun. My golfing highlights would include:

The Golf Bag – I had a good friend in Texas who loved to golf, and wanted desperately for me to go with him some time to the links. One day, I was walking around the neighborhood looking at various garage sales, and I noticed a bag of clubs available for sale, for very cheap. I thought that my friend would be very impressed that I was able to possess my own set of clubs, so I made the purchase. I confidently tell him soon after that I’m ready to golf with him. He picks me up and starts to place my newly purchased bag in his trunk. As he is doing so, he says, rather vehemently, “Wait! Those are your golf clubs?” I said that yes, they were, and he looked disgusted. I told him I’m sure they will be fine, don’t worry about it. He growled at me and said, “Those are women’s clubs, you doofus!”. Well, I guess the fact that the bag was a light pink should have been my first clue. But, alas, after I actually took a couple of clubs in hand, they did seem rather short. He just shook his head and said I could borrow his spare clubs.

The Course – So, I borrowed some old clubs of Rob’s and we go merrily off to a beautiful golf course set in rolling hills near a lake. I am terrible, but still gamely trying to enjoy myself. Soon after starting, I hit a pretty long drive that goes off the fairway and into the weeds on the left. I go and find the ball, and happily tell everyone, “I lucked out! The ball rolled right up to the top of a mound of dirt, and it’s not lost in the weeds!” So, I stand on the mound and prepare to swing. And all of a sudden, I look down, and both my legs were dark in color. I was mystified for a few seconds as I gazed at my discolored legs. I was wearing shorts, I thought, so what happened to my lily white legs? Then, I realized, the dark shade of color on my legs was moving. Sure enough, my ball had rolled onto a huge fire ant hill, and my legs were now covered in fire ants, and they were ferociously punishing me for disrupting their livelihood and habitat. Naturally, I yelled and screamed and jumped and made quite a spectacle of myself as I ran around the golf course. By the time I was finished with swatting all the fire ants off my legs, I was covered in tiny red welts from the ant bites. This experience did not endear me to the game of golf. When I got home, I put different lotions on my bites, but the only thing that seemed to help was putting little dabs of toothpaste all over my legs. This was my very first attempt at golf, but unfortunately it was not my last.

Last Attempt – I had another friend years later who was a golfer and wanted me to give golf one more try. So he invited me to a friendly round with him. Very first hole, and I was all lined up, ready to rock and roll. The golf cart is off at 3 o’clock, and I am addressing the ball at 9 o’clock. My friend is standing safely behind the golf cart, just relaxing, as I stand at the ball a few yards away. I proceed to somehow hit the ball on the side of club head, and, impossibly, it goes off at a 90 degree angle, straight at the golf cart. My friend, fortunately, was a great athlete, and he saw what was happening as the ball shot towards the cart, which meant of course that the ball was heading straight at him. I had a great view of the situation, and I saw his eyes pop out of his head as he dove toward the ground. The ball went through the golf cart, and was zeroing in on Kevin’s head as he dove to the grass in panic. Thankfully, he was quick to respond, as the ball whizzed right past the space where his head used to be about half a second earlier. If he had hesitated a moment, the golf ball would have been planted in his forehead, just like David’s stone in Goliath’s noggin. I’ll never forget the look on his face. Classic. I never tried golf again.