Sunday, July 8, 2007

Why I Hate Golf - The Final Word

Have you ever "whiffed" a chip shot? For the non-golfers, to whiff is to completely miss the ball when you have every intention of hitting it. It usually happens with the Driver as you are rarin' back to knock that sumbitch into the next county. Then you completely miss the ball and nearly break your back in the process. To add insult to injury, the whiff counts as a stroke, as if you had actually hit the ball. This morning, I whiffed a chip shot. On the first hole, less than 15 feet from the green. I was going to hit a nice gentle chip to the pin, one putt for par and win the hole. Instead, the club jammed into the ground directly behind the ball and came to a complete stop. The ball never moved. My hopes for par rapidly degenerated into a triple bogey.

Today's match was a four way match with the other members of my flight who had one win and one loss. You basically play a match against the other three. For each person you beat on a hole you get 1 point. For each person you tie, you get 1/2 point. After 18 holes, he with the most points essentially wins third place in the flight.

I should have walked away with this damn thing. I don't hit the ball far, but I was outdriving the other three by 50 yards a hole. I was hitting good irons and (after the initial whiff) chipping very well. Unfortunately, I might as well have been putting with the club up my ass. I couldn't have done any worse. I missed 2 and 3 foot putts all day. I even managed to three putt from 4' on the 11th hole. There I was, one point away from going into the lead, with a 4 footer for par, and a win. The putter exploded in my hands and left me a six footer coming back. Missed that one too. Instead of a win, I lost to all three guys and got zero points on the hole.

As bad as all that sounds, I was still only 1 1/2 points out of the lead as we teed up on number 15. The first hole of the infamous "Go to Hell Corner" Plunked my drive into the lake, and it was all over but the crying. Got beat by a couple of fat, old, bald headed men.

In the distance, I swear I heard a 24 year old laughing his ass off.

8 comments:

Anonymous said...

I know it's little consolation but I would bet none of those guys can tell a story like you can ... hilarious.

Saw where D won the FIFTH (???) flight ... smells like sandbagging to me.

Unknown said...

I'm sorry, honey...

Although the image of you "putting with the club up your ass" might cause you to get a "whiff" of this
33-year-old laughing her ass off in the distance.

Love ya, mean it, Sport.

Anonymous said...

these golf stories might also qualify for "dual posting" on Cousin Ed's Beaten Down Stories blog ...

Billyfish said...

Damian is definitely sandbagging. I knew something was up when they handed him the trophy Friday before the tournament began.

Unknown said...

Wow -- t-shirt sales, and in Spanish, too! You're an international phenomenon, Bat.

"I thankful" to know you. Bye, friend.

Anonymous said...

Senor Sloucho,

Vaya con queso.

Billyfish said...

That's it...time to take this site down. I knew the folks from the New World Order would track me down if I entered the Blogosphere.

Unknown said...

Don't even THINK about it muchacho!