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A "great" day was had by all......


Mental Ward Escapee
Supporting Member
Oct 18, 2006
I forgot!
United States United States
Frost delay, yesterday morning, so stayed home and went to church w/wife. Afternoon was gorgeous. Wife said I was grumpy and to go play. (Thought she'd never ask!) Headed to course...

Sent to first tee w/ two other singles. One was about my age, deaf (said his battery in his hearing aid was bad), and a struggling golfer. Everything went right... if it got off the ground. But, kept up and seemed to be enjoying the day in his "silent" mode.

The other was a much younger flat-belly. This young man had a beard down to, about, nipple height... Dolly Parton's nipples at age 85! Chain smoker. Never took the cig out of his mouth while swinging. How he kept from catching his beard on fire was beyond me!
His cap was a Callaway "Tour" hat... one of the new ones. His bag was an FT3 driver and a set of X14's, a Cleveland 588 wedge and an Odyssey 2-ball.

Since colder weather has set in, I've left the driver at home. Hitting the 2-wood off the tee. After 4 holes, the gentleman my age isn't even keeping score. The younger "gentleman" has yet to hit a fairway with his FT3, and has carded at least a double on every hole. For some insane reason, I'm even.

As we are leaving the 4th green, the older gentleman remarks "You must find this an extremely boring game, making nothing but pars!" He and I share a laugh and I tell him it will fall apart... soon! The younger gentleman is obviously seething. It's barely 40 degrees and you can almost see the steam coming from under his "tour" hat. He has now clammed up and is not talking to anyone.

On 5 and 6 the older gentleman and I both put balls in the fairway. The younger guy puts both drives into the trees on the right. Both times, the peaceful sunshine of a fall afternoon is broken with loudly uttered vulgarities. We offer to help him find his ball. He tells us he is perfectly capable of finding it on his own! (Yes, sir! Just trying to help.)

I bogey 5 and par 6. 7 is a par 3. My 8-iron ends up some 4' from the pin. The older gentleman is just short of the green. The "bearded one" takes a mighty swing and duck hooks his iron into the deep crap on the left. With no utterances... no warning... the iron helicopters off into the wild blue yonder, following almost the same identical path as did the aformentioned ball. With amazement, we now realize a rather athletic, tall, lanky, young man can throw a club close to 150 yards!! Now, he has the full attention of both of us other two. We're anxiously waiting to see him pull a sawed off shotgun from his bag and begin destroying all other golfers on the course!!

So... do I make the birdie on 7 and chance further agitation? Or.... Once he hits to the green and both he and the other gentleman putt out, I sink the birdie. Still even, after 7... and the tension is building!!!

8 is a long par 5. All 3 of us are in the fairway. (First fairway the younger lad has hit all day!) I make the obligatory "Great drive!" comment and am met with two beady eyes staring from above the beard... glaring from above the beard... glaring hate and anger. The second shot on the par 5 saw the older fella push one into the right rough. My hybrid went down the middle. The younger's drive was the longest so he was last to hit his second. Not sure what long iron he decided to use. Regardless, the mightly swing dug a trench deep enough to bury Rosie O'donnel. The ball, I'm sure feeling luckey, traveled a full 5 to 7 yards before deciding to stop. The shout of "G** D*** I* To F****** H***!!!" was followed by the crash of the iron shaft across the back of the stand bag. I've never seen such an orderly, systematic, picturesque collapse of a bag full of clubs. In what was almost slow motion, the stand bag, with it's stay broken, slowly bent and then rolled... like a falling tree... to the ground. With a kick of his right foot, the falling bag was subjected to yet one more indignity. The kick sent the bag to almost the same point as the ball was now laying. The fella proceeded to walk to the bag, picked up the broken bag and his ball, slung the bag over his shoulder, and walked towards the clubhouse from #8 fairway. No "sweet farewells"... No adios... With cigarette smoke even more stoked by his, I'm certain, deeper breaths of extreme frustration, we followed with thankful eyes his trapse towards the house. The older gentleman commented, "And, in that mood, he's going ot get into a car and drive home?????"

The remainder of the round was much more enjoyable, however, less exciting. And, sure enough, with the pressure of Mr. Nice Guy absent, my game returned to it's usual crop of bogeys and worse. The front nine... a 37 (1 over)... was one of the best this year. The back... relaxed... took substantially more strokes. I'll need to get the "Bearded One's" phone number and invite him to play again. It's amazing how well I played, not worrying about the score... just worrying about survival!!!!


Fac ut gaudeam
Supporting Member
Sep 1, 2004
Did you check this morning's local papers to see if there were any ritual killings last night? A traffic cop impaled with a FT-3? Eye witnesses report a "ZZ Top on Meths" lookalike physcho on the rampage swearing that "he should have kicked that SOB's ass today!!"

Great story, I guess you have to witness that type of character once in a while to put perspective on the regular more gentile folk who normally play this game.


The Plaid Duffer
Staff member
Oct 19, 2006
Sanford, NC
United States United States
limp, you should write a book...it'd be great!

15,647 pages long...but still, great!!! ;)


Well-Known Member
Sep 15, 2007
Nice one! With Pacific Northwest winter here it means no scoring. For those who don't live around here 45 degress can still feel like 25 even in the sun since the moisture levels just make the cold seep into your bones and impossible to get out unless you are indoors next to roaring heat. It also means no scoring which means a different attitude on the course.

Yesterday was "Be a bit more aggressive day." That meant all the clubs I had (more than 14) I carried and I went closer to pins that normally I would go away from or try stuff that I might not when scoring. I did get myself into a fairway bunker on #3 that had grass fingers separating it. I would have just kicked out elsewhere normally but I had to try getting out and over the entire bunker. Of course I hit the first shot fat which got over the grass finger back into the bunker. Shot #2 was fat and advanced it over the next grass finger and back into bunker. Shot #3 was into another bunker. By then I was giving the bunkers a finger of my own. I pulled it out of that bunker and than shanked it onto another one. Time to call it quits and practice chipping on the hole. Happy to say no bearded dude in our foursome. Gotta love Winter golf.

Next time out is "Half the number of clubs and conservative golf."


Well-Known Member
Feb 5, 2006
Good story. Dude really broke his bag? I'd have been laughing my a$$ off.

Dave Ireland

I'm sizzlin tonite
Aug 31, 2004
Ahh sweet !! .... I love hearing these stories about the "bad boys of golf", since my 4some on a Sunday is pretty much nailed down these days I tend not to hitch up with singles anymore - but I've had some pearlers in my time !! ... Great story in its telling Limp !

P.S ... I've just thought of one person that would really have got a great kick out of this ....


No more triple bogies!!
Oct 31, 2005
Ahh sweet !! .... I love hearing these stories about the "bad boys of golf", since my 4some on a Sunday is pretty much nailed down these days I tend not to hitch up with singles anymore - but I've had some pearlers in my time !! ... Great story in its telling Limp !

P.S ... I've just thought of one person that would really have got a great kick out of this ....
I believe he is...

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