Me: *hits drive on 18th hole, pushes it a little to the right* Uh oh, I’m almost in someone’s yard.
Dad: You’ll like the sign in their yard.
Me: *drives up*
Sign: Jesus is the Reason for the Season
Me: Ha! Darn, I missed.
After my approach shot, I proceeded to shank my chip, and then because I was laughing so hard, I whiffed my mulligan chip. To put that in perspective, I haven’t whiffed since I was little, and ended up shooting an 87. Not bad for not playing in 4 months and using someone else’s clubs (which were too short and too light for me), but I think God was still punishing me for mocking his gaudy Christmas sign.
Oh well. Shot an 84 today, so God must not care too much.
Why is there a golf hole close enough to land in people’s yards? And how happy are they living there?
Oh don’t be silly. If there IS a God, it wasn’t HIS sign. He was probably hoping you’d hit it too. lolIf there is a God, this is likely how that conversation went:God: Come on, come on, come on…damn…St. Peter: You knew she wasn’t going to hit it.God: I know, but these people and their signs are just so damn stupid. Next time? I leave myself an escape clause on the, “No interfering in the affairs of mortals.” thing.Now, some might say I’m being a dick…but hey, if every church in the world can put words in the great invisible man’s mouth, would he REALLY mind if one little blasphemer like me did it?
Glad you’re having a good time with your family. :)
You lost me at “After.”
My guess is that God’s punishing you for shanking your chip and whiffing your mulligan. You should consider yourself lucky that you don’t have green fungus growing on your palms.
Richard, people pay extra to live on golf courses!! Don’t ask me…they’re nuts.Jen, sounds like you had a lot of fun. =D
Does the golf course provide the shanks or do you have to improvise?
An 87’s not bad for most people, Jen. I never had the patience to do golf, but I’m just proud that I never went over double par.
If only you could make the ball somehow land on and stick to the sign, then you’d have the oh-so-regrettable task of playing it where it lies.I think I’d suggest they just mark me down as a 6, and then proceed to smash the fuck out of it with my terrible inability to make the club connect with the ball.Damn! I missed again!
I’ve never broken 95.
Near the top of the list of things I never expected to read here: Golf talk. From Jen, no less.
I shot a 91 once. That was a rough nine holes.
I once managed 24 over par on a putt-putt hole. Got stuck under a fibreglass cow…
I think she’s just making up words to mess with people who don’t know golf, and the golf people are in on it.
Off-topic, but I thought it was cool:An anagram for“Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger Pope Benedict XVI”is“Vatican-bred Nazi JC-expert pedophile’s groin.”
Agreed. Awesome, Jen.
You…”wiffed your mulligan chip”??I…don’t think I want to know what that is
I think shanks are improvised by definition. Bringing one in advance is probably against the rules.
But, you gave yourself a mulligan, and counted the score? Did you get a mulligan on the whiff too? I’m probably just envious because you scored in the 80’s and are somwhere where golf can be played all year round, or maybe it’s hanging around golf courses as a rules official that makes me this cranky on mulligans :-)
When I was a kid one of my friends lived in a house whose backyard was part of the rough of a golf course. Seriously! It was maybe 50 feet to the fairway, and there was no fence.
Mornington Crescent!
Welcome to suburbia, Rich. Just about every golf course within 50 miles of where I live is known as a ‘golfing community’. Not only are houses built along the fairways, but people that purchase the houses have club dues built into the mortgage – you don’t have a choice about that, if you want the house, you have to pay the fees, just like living in a condo.To make it worse, golfers have the _right_ to enter your yard to play their ball, that’s written into the mortgage contract as well. In most ‘golf communities’ you’re not allowed to build a fence since that would make it difficult for a golfer to play his errant ball, and in some communities you’re not allowed to landscape without approval from the community board. But, people who buy those houses know all this going in, so they can’t complain (really, they’re bound by the contract). The biggest gripe I’ve heard from people that live in those places are about the golfers who insist on playing at the crack of dawn on the weekends. It seems the screams of profanity at the all-too-often bogey carry quite well through the crisp dawn air.
Hey, some people are into shanking and whiffing…I saw it in a movie once….
You mean you’re an 80s-shooting golfer on top of everything else? Is there any way in which you’re NOT made of awesome sauce?Have a great holiday season, Jen.