The golf ball is a fairly innocent looking little creature. It’s what girls might even call “cute” – small, pure white with pretty little dimples and very shiny. It’s not that big, only 1.68 inches in diameter. Fits neatly into your pocket. Easy to throw to a fellow player after marking his spot. But if you’ve been hit by one, you think of it as a sinister projectile.
On closer inspection it’s incredibly hard and can reach blazing speeds. An average 10 handicapper (not me) reaches 137 mph. Scratch or better reaches 161 mph. The highest recorded ball speed is 225 mph by former long drive champion Ryan Louw. That could ruin a sunny day! The South could have used a few more of those weapons in the War of Northern Aggression in 1861!
If you’ve ever been to a professional tournament and stood just beyond the tee, a pro’s drive has an eerie sizzling sound as it screams past you. I repeat, it’s a weapon. ALAWAYS stay behind the ball on a shot and that’s not 100% safe as you will read.
My father-in-law caught a screamer in his ear 40 years ago and couldn’t hear for a year. Actually his wife said he just didn’t listen. I hit a line drive directly at a co-player once and the only thing that saved his life was his crouch behind behind his bag.
A black humor joke:
A traveling salesman decides to quit early one day and take in 9 holes at a local muni. #1 ran parallel to a busy highway. He yanks his 1st drive over the left rough trees and probably onto the highway. Actually the ball goes through a woman’s windshield, hits her in the temple and kills her instantly causing a terrible multi-car pileup. Cops rush to the scene not only find the dead lady but a golf ball on the floorboard with a name engraved. They know the course is close so they rush to the pro shop, find the guy’s name on the starter’s list and drive down the fairway to find the unknowing fellow.
The policeman is raging mad, finds the guy, tells him what happens and asks the golfer what he’s going to do about it?
The guys says “I guess I need to weaken my grip so I don’t pull it!”
Our 9 o’clock shotguns on Saturdays are a real cluster from the start. All non-par 3s have an A and a B group, so the course is packed. The practice range is loaded and golfers with drivers in hand are hovering for a spot like vultures over road kill. The putting green looks like an anthill with balls colliding and occasional arguments over who hit the Titleist Pro V and who hit the Topflight. Carts zoom in every direction and many big drinkers are into their 2nd beer. It’s mayhem!
Adam sounds the bullhorn, half the guys can’t hear afterwards and several geese usually fly in from the mating call. But somehow, someway, all the players reach their assigned holes – some going completely the wrong way and arriving very late to their tees killing the pace of play! Some holes wind up with 3-4 groups due to those wandering idiots and the glacial pace of the deliberate players. I’ve seen yelling nearly turn into skirmishes making Ali-Frazier look like a chess game.
I’m with my regulars and we’ve played 4-5 holes. Lefty Steve has severely pulled his tee ball and is in the pines on number 10. My buddy Tim respects the golf ball and the very low probability that Steve will thread the needle to the green. So he parks nd parks a good 50 feet back. Before he can even twitch Steve’s ball cracks the tree bark and comes back to shave his ear. It leaves a red streak on his cheek but mark but no blood. We all rush to Tim’s aid are amazed that he is still in this world. In a delayed reaction Tim goes ghost white and knows he has literally dodged a bullet. After realizing what just happened he warns us brags that that’s his ninth life. Another would kill him.
Well, we’re then at 15 and its cart path almost veers in front of 16 tee. I’m certain many a ball has blazed past many a head. As usual Tim has smashed one about 270 but it was way left just begging for a errant hook from 16 tee. Steve’s and Tim’s cart was parked to the left as well. Nonchalantly Tim exits the cart’s driver seat and checks his Garmin watch for the distance but not paying attention to the 4 folks on 16 tee. I was alone in my cart I see that a very big hitter is addressing his drive on 16. “This is not good” I whisper to myself. As Tim addresses his shot, the ball from 16 suddenly pounds and dents his empty seat backrest and bounces into the cart basket, rattling and spinning. If Tim had not left the cart his sternum would have taken a direct hit! Steve is frozen. Tim is ashen. And I’ve just seen lightening strike twice in one hour to the same guy – Tim.
“That’s twice today!” Tim shivers as his knees buckle. He drops his club and has a look of dread in this saucer-sized eyes. Backing up, Tim suddenly grabs his gut and explodes his lunch, covering his shirt, pants and shoes. He sags and has hands on his knees knowing that he’s dodged a second bullet in one day.
Even though we just witnessed a friend almost get terribly injured we couldn’t hold it together – we laughed hysterically! Tim had a tirade of choice words for us.
To the golf family: Put down the range finder or cell phone or Bud Light and pay attention!
Fairway Follies, Joe Hinson 