(From a previous column)
It started out to be a typical summer day. David and I were returning to our former favorite golf course that we hadn't played in years, and now I remember why: It is the "Golf Ball Eating Course From He-double Hockey Sticks." I'd use the real word for it, but this is a family newspaper. Let's just say it's a golfer's nightmare. Even Tiger Woods would take one look at this course and go, "Oh heck no!" To save time and space, I will hereafter refer to it as the GBECFH.
I was "researching" the Internet for the "World's Toughest Golf Courses," and inexplicably the GBECFH didn't make the list! I was incredulous! How can that be? I shall be contacting the writers of this list immediately. Well, maybe not immediately, but sometime in the near future (okay, probably never). The GBECFH has to rank somewhere between the Ko'olau Golf Club in Oahu, Hawaii and Jade Dragon Snow Mountain Golf Club in Lijiang, Yunnan, China in terms of frustration.
Anyway, we found ourselves on the GBECFH when we returned to our former hometown to visit old friends and thought, to paraphrase an old cliché, "Why not kill two birds with one golf ball?" There's a reason our memories start fading after a certain age, and this is it.
We changed into our golfing gear, loaded the minimum amount of golf balls required for this course which, in our case, is approximately 3,000 balls each, into the cart and got ready to "tee off." But first, we had to take care of an essential task. We tried to talk the lady behind the counter into giving us a discount because (a) we're old and not likely to make it out of this nightmare course alive, (b) it was after 4 p.m. (a time when most people our age are thinking of sitting down to dinner), (c) we'd be lucky to complete nine holes before the sun set and, (d) the most important argument of all – We're OLD. This didn't seem to sway her since, as she so succinctly pointed out, most people who play at this particular time of the day on a week day ARE old. Now to give you an idea of
Now to give you an idea of this particular course, picture yourself playing golf at the Grand Canyon but with a lot more "hazards." This course doesn't need any stinkin' water hazards or sand traps. Heck no! The entire course is one big canyon full of snakes, poison ivy, a golf ball graveyard, and who knows what else. The fairways are invisible to anyone under 20 foot tall. You hit the ball down into a valley or up the side of a mountain, having absolutely no idea where the ball will land. Hence the need for 3,000 balls. And that's just for the front nine. Also, I'd recommend carrying a pair of heavy duty boots and gloves if you have any intention of retrieving any stray balls that have landed in the four-foot-high "out-ofbounds" shrubbery or scaling down one of the many canyons.
I know it's been a long time since we played here, but I seem to remember in our youth (back when golf was played in a pasture with bents sticks and stuffed leather balls Har Har) there were "cart paths" that made the ride a bit more pleasant. This time it was like riding a bucking bronco at the top speed of 10 miles an hour without a saddle. The seats were slick from years and years of use so between the slippery seats and the rough paths I nearly bounced out every time David would make a turn. It was the ride from he-double hockey sticks.
Being a very mediocre golfer at best, I recently discovered a golf club which would be ideal for me and the GBECFH if I weren't so cheap. LOL. It's a golf club that is loaded with a "Power Strip" which can be purchased for the small price of six dollars per shot. You move a lever, select how far you want the ball to go and POW it sends the ball flying off. No awkward swings involved.
You'd never know where the ball landed, but you'd definitely be able to launch it over the canyon or up the side of the hill. I'd recommend carrying a bullhorn and yelling "FORE!" after each shot, just to be on the safe side when of your balls nails someone a couple of miles away. Also, never use golf balls with any identification on them that can be traced back to you.
I think at six dollars per shot I'd better stick to the cheapest balls I can find and let the snakes have their way with them.