Stupid Golf

I received a gift certificate from my lovely wife last Christmas for the local driving range. Precisely four days before it was set to expire I hurried on over with a handful of drivers my father gave me. I purchased the largest bucket possible and set about driving many little balls far into the dusk. It was actually fun.

However, something seemingly impossible happened. When it did I thought for sure I was mistaken and disbelief held me from acting for several moments. On one swing, the golf club head went flying off. I did not see where it went. My heart stopped for fear of it spiking into someone's chest or worse. There were no cries of pain, nor chuckles of laughter. It was as if I were the sole witness in the entire universe to this singularly improbable event. Yet there I stood looking around for the sight of my club head. It was nowhere to be seen and I feared destruction of the other clubs (or they feared me) and so I decided to call it a night and allow the driving range the joy of finding my club head.

Lisa was a caddy for years and told me that she never even heard of such a thing happening. I swear it did, I still have the headless shaft as a peculiar momento!