Someone asked me tonight if I play golf. I’m in Myrtle Beach, making this a not entirely unreasonable question. I barely refrained from serving up an expletive with my ‘no’ response. While I tried to be civil, there are few things that I deplore more than chasing the birdies.
The reason for this phobia of hitting a crater-ridden ball with a club-ended stick into an unattainable hole in the ground? Once, I went on a date that revolved around actually playing golf. Okay, let’s be truthful. My date was too much of a jerk to pay for me to participate. I was merely along for the ride, to ‘ooh’ and ‘aah’ and be suitably impressed at his prowess with golfing paraphernalia.
When we arrived at the golfing site – okay, YES, I know it’s called a ‘golf course’ – it was packed with old men lined up for a blissful Saturday morning of batting their balls around the greens. We had to wait for our cart, and we were required to time our departure from the clubhouse to give the old man crew ahead of us enough lead time for their game.
Charmingly, I tried to fill up the time with ‘wows’ and ignorant questions about exactly why a golf ball is round, and what the precise purpose of the various striking utensils is, and why we weren’t walking between holes instead of driving. At this point in my life (I was an idiotic nineteen), I thought men liked women who seemed interested in their stuff. So, I feigned it. Eighteen holes of golf takes a long time, after all.
On the drive down the fairway between the tee off and the hole, I guess I was a little too animated. The old man crew on the second hole shushed me because I was howling. Loudly. My date was driving like a maniac, a fact that was lost on them. They didn’t care about my safety. They just wanted me to shut my trap. We got through that hole in three strokes, a feat that I hear is usually decent.
On to the second hole. My date made a respectable drive off the tee, and we saddled up in the cart to go find the ball. Along the straightaway, he swerved to miss a mud hole. Not knowing that I needed to be belted into the cart, I went flying out of it and landed face first in the slime. My gorgeous date ran over me.
When I dragged my muck-covered visage out of the hole, I looked up to see him standing next to the cart, holding it up by the top. He’d turned it around so quickly that he’d almost flipped it. Such was Romeo’s concern for my welfare, a microscopic bit of charm that evaporated when he ascertained that nothing was broken. He wasn’t about to lose his money on the golf game, finishing up the remaining sixteen holes with a shrewish, mud-encrusted date.
Since that day, I have never set foot on a golf course. Don’t ask me to play, because I may agree just long enough to cream you in the noggin with a driving iron.
IF there is such a thing as a driving iron.
14 Comments
Oh my! Such a bad experience, especially for someone just 19. It’s too bad that your date was such a jerk and probably ruined you for life on golf.
I have only played about 5 times in the 11 plus years we have lived here, mostly because I’m lousy if I don’t play regularly and don’t want to take the time to do that.
I taught TK how to play when we lived in Savannah many years ago and we would play every Sunday afternoon and we enjoyed it since neither of us cared much about the score, we just enjoyed the time together.
When we moved here, we decided to try boating and not golf and that has turned out to be a pretty good decision. Boating may be just as expensive as golf, but, it’s such a great way to relax and enjoy the beauty of the Low Country.
We still occasionally go to a golf course, but, it’s to watch the pros play, that can be fun as you just wander around enjoying people-watching and being outdoors.
As John Feinstein titled one of his books, Golf is a good walk spoiled.
Lou, I didn’t realize you’d ever been much of a golfer. I’m sure it could be nice if the players aren’t uber-competitive. But, I agree with you. Boating is the way to go in SC. It is like visiting an entirely different world.
I absolutely HATE golf. I tried to like it and take it up a while back, but life is way to short for such an activity that makes one so miserable and is such a waste of time. I gave my golf clubs to good will and swore never to do it again.
Except…. I like mini-golf! I have loved it since my young days of Putt-Putt. In fact, a Putt-Putt-Tweet-Up would be kinda fun.
Is playing mini-golf doing it again?
I think I am even worse at Putt-Putt. I broke my arm playing that. Another blog post for another day……
I used to play until I moved to the Low country. I live on a course here on Hilton Head. I guess it’s just watching other fools play that turned me off.
As for Mikes comments about mini-golf, I recently put an article about a mini-golf fundraiser on my blog. You can find it here. http://fundraisingblog.net/?p=31.
Thanks for sharing the link, Stan. My Rotary Club is looking for fundraising ideas. I’ll make sure to pass this along to them.
The only thing more dreadful than playing golf is watching it. I’d rather watch paint dry. 🙂
I think that a putt putt tweet up would be a lot of fun. I suck horribly at it but that is not the point. The point is that we could get together and do something other than EAT. LOL… Andra, I am sorry to hear about your horrible experience. Your post reminded me of a time back in Houston Texas when I had a friend of mine that would drag me to the driving range just for the entertainment value of watching me dig trenches trying to hit that tiny little white ball. I could it the ball alright but I would take 3 inches of dirt with it. It was like watching a gopher on speed digging a hole in record time. As for golfing itself the only thing that attracts me to it is being out in nature. I think that I would enjoy driving the car and just enjoying the scenery but even after a while I would get bored with that I think.
Digging trenches? I swing and get nowhere near the ball. That was my experience the only time I ever went to a driving range, plus I hurt my back. 🙂
I’d come to a putt-putt tweet up and watch. Or write a story about it. 🙂
In Anderson, SC, Putt Putt was a date night event…I guess the only golf course in town was at the Country Club, to which most of my dates were not members.
I enjoy Putt Putt, especially when there are gnomes on the course, or windmills.
Putt Putt tweet up would be lots of fun!
I forgot how many wacky miniature golf places existed until I came to Myrtle Beach this weekend…………
I can’t say that I’d want to come back here to do a tweet-up, though.
And, I agree, Cheryl. I cannot resist trying to hit the ball in a hole where it disappears and shoots out somewhere else. Even I would do that one.
I am no expert on golf, and haven’t played in over a dozen years. But for anyone like me, the key to being a good golfer is how well you respond to having gotten yourself into trouble. Whether caught in a trap, stuck in the rough, off out of bounds, or underwater, you have to have the poise to get yourself out of the mess you put yourself into; I am very thankful that your ‘gorgeous golfer’ had no idea how to get himself out of trouble so as to play another round.
Me, too, Dear. Me, too.
So you all know I’m a golfer. I won’t bore you with why I like it.
Suffice it to say I think a Putt Putt tweet up in CHS would be fantastic fun. Not a cart around, not a driving iron. Plus, we can all choose our favorite color golf ball. When you set the date, let me know, I’m itching to visit all y’all again real soon. 🙂
You probably like it because you’re good at it and a man didn’t run over you with a golf cart when you were 19. I’ve always wished I could just like it, because when I was in public accounting, I could never get away with going on girl outings as a “work thing,” but the golfers could get away with playing golf as a “work thing.” The whole “tire tracks on my back” thing just ruined it for me.
When are you going to be back in Chas again? We should try to go putt-putt around somewhere.
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