When Things Go Wrong, They Really Go Wrong Two

Doing my part for charity, I bought four green fees from the silent auction at a fundraiser that had been donated by an exclusive, private country club. I should have known the day was going to be a bit different when I called to book a tee time. The voice on the phone asked for my name of course, then asked for it again, then asked me to spell it – then silence – another voice asked me for my name – more silence – then asked if I was a member. I guess they never get any calls from anyone who is not in the computer. No, I am not, I responded and explained that I had purchased the right to play a round at a charity auction. No problem - arrangements were made.

The course is about a half-hour drive from my house, so the other three in the foursome agreed to meet at my place at noon. Lot’s of time to make our 1:30 tee time and possibly have a bite of lunch before starting. Traffic was brutal with road construction, accidents, you name it, and at 1:15 we were still a ways a way. I called to see if we could get a later time and was told that a tournament was booked for the afternoon and ours was the last time out. But they were running a little late, so we should try to make it.

We got there at about 1:40. Being a private club, there were no signs anywhere, so we scurried in four directions to find the pro-shop. We got our time and our carts and were told we had two minutes to get something to eat. Of course, the snack bar had no cash for change, since members sign for everything, so we counted out the quarters dug out of our golf bag pockets and scrounged up enough for a hot dog and a beer each. We headed out to start at the 10th hole.

As any golfer knows, there is nothing worse than teeing off after rushing to the tee. Add to that the first couple of foursomes playing in the club tournament watching you tee off. None of our drives were very good. None of our second shots were very good. We hacked our way up the fairway, with one of our carts chugging and sputtering. The friend, who was driving it paid no attention at first, thinking it was just cold, or the choke needed adjusting, and nursed it along. But it died, in the middle of the fairway, halfway to the hole.

We pushed the dead cart to the side and waved on the tournament. No one in our group had a phone with them, but one of the passing golf tournament players had one and called the clubhouse. We were assured that another cart would be dispatched immediately. After waving the next group on, one of our foursome got impatient and decided to jog up to the clubhouse. He came back with a cart after the third foursome in the golf tournament passed. Apparently, forgetting we were on the tenth hole, the clubhouse was looking for us with the replacement cart on the first hole.

Having a good laugh, we decided the hole was a write-off, agreed on double pars all round, and resumed play on the next hole. By this time we noticed that there was no one else behind us waiting to tee off, and by the time we got to the next tee, the group ahead was well on their way. There were only three foursomes in the tournament that had booked the course for the afternoon, and they had all passed us. We had this exclusive country club course all to ourselves for the rest of the round, which turned out to be one of the most relaxing rounds we had all summer. One thing about golf, you just never know what’s around the next sharp dogleg turn.