Jamie was an avid golfer. One day he organized a foursome for a game. Had he known what lay ahead, he might have changed his mind.
Right from the first tee off, Dick was in trouble. He was second up . . . and took a mulligan. Dick fanned on his next swing. It just wasn’t going to be Dick’s day. Four-letter words flew in all directions.
Somewhere around the seventh tee-box, Allan began to wonder about his cart mate. The other two, Jamie and Rob, were keeping as much distance from Dick as they could . . . all the while feeling sorry for Allan’s plight, having to sit alongside Dick and hear his endless stream of profanity.
Hole after hole, Dick’s play deteriorated. And the worse it got the more agitated he became — the vicious circle was in high gear.
Early on the back nine, Dick began borrowing balls from Allan to replace those he’d driven far into the rough or into water hazards.
The foursome somehow managed to make it to the tee-box on the 15th hole. It was a long par 4, with a gentle dogleg right, around a large pond, a water hazard. Jamie still was leading the game with the lowest score. He was first to tee off. Allan was second, Rob went third and Dick was fourth.
By now, Dick was in a decidedly ugly mood. His extreme agitation made it difficult even to get his tee straight enough in the ground to keep the ball from rolling off. Finally he was ready. He took three practice swings. Then he stepped up to the ball and swung. The club head barely touched the ball. The ball dribbled six feet down the tee box, followed by an energetic string of profanity. He took another mulligan. He got set again. This time his driver connected solidly with the ball. It sailed out for about 40 yards and then sliced sharply, splashing deep into the pond.
The other three weren’t surprised when yet another flood of profanity erupted from their colleague’s angry mouth.
To the dismay of his golf mates, Dick threw his driver into the bushes beside the tee box. Then he jumped into the golf cart and sped off leaving his golf partner Allan standing there bewildered and annoyed. Both sets of clubs were on the cart. Allan exchanged glances with Jamie and Rob. Wordlessly, they headed down the fairway toward where their three balls had come to rest, Allan on foot.
They fully expected Dick to drop another ball by the water hazard, as the rules allowed, take his shot and then come over to pick Allan up. That wasn’t to be.
“Oh oh!” Jamie said, drawing the other two men’s attention. “This doesn’t look good.” They looked across the fairway. Dick was unbuckling his golf clubs from the cart.
The three could hardly believe their eyes when Dick lifted his golf bag over his head and threw it, clubs and all, as far as he could into the pond. Then he jumped into the golf cart and drove off toward the clubhouse.
Allan looked in disbelief as he watched his golf bag and clubs, on the back of his and Dick’s cart, disappear down the fairway and over a hill.
“Go ahead and use mine,” Jamie said, offering Allan the use of his almost new graphite clubs.
The three had just finished their second shots when they saw Dick and the golf cart coming back their way. Allan’s clubs were still on board. The three decided to be gracious and welcome Dick back to finish the game.
Instead, Dick drove the cart to the edge of the pond and stopped.
The next thing they knew there was Dick, his shoes and socks on shore, wading out knee deep to where his golf clubs had landed. They watched as his arms, thrust deep in the water, swung back and forth in searching motions. Then he stopped. The tops of Dick’s golf clubs emerged. He began digging through the pockets of the golf bag.
He’d found something, put it in his pocket and waded back to shore. Water dripped from his soaked pants as he picked up shoes and socks, jumped into the golf cart and drove back toward the clubhouse.
Jamie, Allan and Rob looked at each other, shrugged and headed off for their third shots.
They learned later, Dick had arrived at the clubhouse and stormed out to his car . . . only then did he realize his car keys were in his golf bag.
“Revenge of the Golf Bag” is Copyright 2013 by James Osborne All Rights Reserved
(Note: All images are in the public domain)
3 thoughts on “Revenge of the Golf Bag”
Love the twist! It made me laugh out loud.
I’m not a golfer myself, though I’ve read several PG Wodehouse stories about the game, and they’re always fun, too.
People never seem to write comic stories about soccer. Maybe they feel the real thing is daft enough already.
Keep up the good work!
What a thoroughly entertaining piece! James, I always love your stories. This one was especially fun to read. Keep up the great writing. All the best to you.
Unfortunately I’ve golfed with a few people like this… but only once. 🙂 Very good story.