turbojimmy
Supporting Member
- Joined
- May 26, 2001
- Messages
- 5,560
So a business associate of mine invited me to play some golf today. I'm not a 'golfer'. Last time I golfed was in 1998 when I thought I might be interested in golf. I bought new clubs, which I used that day, and then put in the basement.
Last night I dusted off those clubs and headed for the driving range in order to reduce the amount of humiliation I'm sure to face today on the golf course. I'm smacking balls out with a variety of clubs but I really have no control over height, distance or direction. A friend of mine is giving me advice. He says to line my feet up with where I want the ball to go. Whatever. Sometimes it works sometimes it doesn't. Mostly the ball shoots off to the right violently.
We've got like 4 balls left and 8 geese begin making the trek from the back of the range to a retention pond that's off to the right, front of the range. There's 4 adults and 4 babies. I guess with my lack of control I should've stopped hitting balls until they crossed. But what are the chances a tiny golf ball is going to hit a goose from about 75 yards out? Pretty good evidently.
I hit a ball with a 3 wood and it rockets out like a line drive off to the right. Not much height. About goose height, actually. It was that moment when things went into slo-mo. I heard gasps and an 'oh no!'. Luckily the ball hit the ground first, directly in front of the last goose in the gaggle and ricocheted into his skinny right leg. He immediately pulled the leg up against his body and stopped walking.
Now this is where me, my brother and my friend began laughing while feigning horror. I mean it was funny. But then it started getting sad. Realizing one of them was hurt, the family stopped and waited for the injured one. The injured one tried to walk a few feet and then just sat down as if to say 'I'm not gonna make it....go on without me.....'. I'm thinking to myself 'come on man, just walk it off!'. He tried walking some more and sat down. His buds waited for him. Eventually he really did walk it off. By the time he got to the pond he had a slight limp but otherwise seemed okay. He swam around with his family just fine.
I'm not a fan of geese, but I have no reason to try to kill one with a golf ball.
Now the karma. I felt bad. I think I probably put my feet toward the geese per my friends' advice but didn't think it would really work. And I laughed.
Later in the night, while the whole family was asleep, I had finally had enough of a howling noise that my A/C system had developed. I went up to the attic to adjust some of the vent valves to see if I could change the air flow enough to reduce the noise.
I'm standing with both feet on a piece of pine that I've stood on countless times in the past. It seems like the cracking sound and my legs dangling into my son's bedroom were simultaneous. I didn't get to react at all. I'm hanging through the ceiling, injured on my knee and butt, and my 5-year old son is screaming in terror. I think I'd be kind of freaked out, too, if I was awoken from a dead sleep by the ceiling falling down. Luckily the big stuff missed his bed.
I tried to yell down to my son that it was okay (it really wasn't) and that it was just me falling through the ceiling. It had no effect. By this time my wife was out of bed along with my 2-year-old daughter. Some angry words were exchanged and they all went back to bed in my daughter's room.
So now I get to spend 4-5 hours hobbling around a golf course with the threat of major thunderstorms, high winds and damaging hail. And I have a pretty big drywall job to do. Looks like a 4 x 6.5' piece needs cut out and replaced.
Good news is the new transmission is installed in the Buick and I pick it up tomorrow (see how I worked some Buick content in there?).
Jim
Last night I dusted off those clubs and headed for the driving range in order to reduce the amount of humiliation I'm sure to face today on the golf course. I'm smacking balls out with a variety of clubs but I really have no control over height, distance or direction. A friend of mine is giving me advice. He says to line my feet up with where I want the ball to go. Whatever. Sometimes it works sometimes it doesn't. Mostly the ball shoots off to the right violently.
We've got like 4 balls left and 8 geese begin making the trek from the back of the range to a retention pond that's off to the right, front of the range. There's 4 adults and 4 babies. I guess with my lack of control I should've stopped hitting balls until they crossed. But what are the chances a tiny golf ball is going to hit a goose from about 75 yards out? Pretty good evidently.
I hit a ball with a 3 wood and it rockets out like a line drive off to the right. Not much height. About goose height, actually. It was that moment when things went into slo-mo. I heard gasps and an 'oh no!'. Luckily the ball hit the ground first, directly in front of the last goose in the gaggle and ricocheted into his skinny right leg. He immediately pulled the leg up against his body and stopped walking.
Now this is where me, my brother and my friend began laughing while feigning horror. I mean it was funny. But then it started getting sad. Realizing one of them was hurt, the family stopped and waited for the injured one. The injured one tried to walk a few feet and then just sat down as if to say 'I'm not gonna make it....go on without me.....'. I'm thinking to myself 'come on man, just walk it off!'. He tried walking some more and sat down. His buds waited for him. Eventually he really did walk it off. By the time he got to the pond he had a slight limp but otherwise seemed okay. He swam around with his family just fine.
I'm not a fan of geese, but I have no reason to try to kill one with a golf ball.
Now the karma. I felt bad. I think I probably put my feet toward the geese per my friends' advice but didn't think it would really work. And I laughed.
Later in the night, while the whole family was asleep, I had finally had enough of a howling noise that my A/C system had developed. I went up to the attic to adjust some of the vent valves to see if I could change the air flow enough to reduce the noise.
I'm standing with both feet on a piece of pine that I've stood on countless times in the past. It seems like the cracking sound and my legs dangling into my son's bedroom were simultaneous. I didn't get to react at all. I'm hanging through the ceiling, injured on my knee and butt, and my 5-year old son is screaming in terror. I think I'd be kind of freaked out, too, if I was awoken from a dead sleep by the ceiling falling down. Luckily the big stuff missed his bed.
I tried to yell down to my son that it was okay (it really wasn't) and that it was just me falling through the ceiling. It had no effect. By this time my wife was out of bed along with my 2-year-old daughter. Some angry words were exchanged and they all went back to bed in my daughter's room.
So now I get to spend 4-5 hours hobbling around a golf course with the threat of major thunderstorms, high winds and damaging hail. And I have a pretty big drywall job to do. Looks like a 4 x 6.5' piece needs cut out and replaced.
Good news is the new transmission is installed in the Buick and I pick it up tomorrow (see how I worked some Buick content in there?).
Jim
