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A Golfer's Story--The Unusual Hazard of Orange Golf Balls (old notebooks) alls

Article By: brucek
Humor



i occationally write sports articles for a newspaper called "Epoch Times". this is the third that they published out of four that i've written for them. the story is absolutely true. believe me. honest.


Submitted:May 8, 2011    Reads: 87    Comments: 3    Likes: 0   


A lot of strange things can happen on a golf course--yes, even stranger than people riding around on goofy-looking carts attempting to hit a tiny ball into a hole seemingly miles away. It just so happens that I had one of those strange things happen to me.

First you need to know that I'm a terrible golfer, and back when this event happened, I was even worse. So when I was standing in the pro shop waiting to pay for my round of golf and I saw a package of orange golf balls for the first time, I was thrilled. I knew immediately that they weren't orange just to be a pretty color. I understood that these balls were made for golfers like me--golfers that spent most of their time looking for their balls in the woods rather than actually playing the game. "No more lost balls for me," I thought. This was the solution! These balls were so brightly colored they practically glowed.

So I took my new box of orange golf balls out to the first tee to play my first round of golf for the year. Let me repeat that if I may: It was the first time I had ever used orange golf balls on the first outing of the year on the first hole and on the very first shot of that hole.

Now the shot was far from spectacular. It was too low, too short, and too far to the right. It skipped and skipped and finally rolled under a large pine tree that had low-hanging branches. When I reached the tree, I hoped that the ball had rolled out the other side so I checked there first, but there was no ball. That only left one possibility--the ball was under the tree some place. I lifted the branches that I thought the ball rolled under and bent down to look, but my ball was not there either. Instead, what I was a mother mallard duck sitting on her nest! Needless to say I was quite surprised that I'd stumbled on such an intimate little scene of nature, but I still needed to find my ball. I hadn't gotten up at the break of dawn to go bird watching; I was trying to play some golf and on my very first shot it seemed that I'd already lost my brand new golf ball.

I took a deep breath and tried to look at the situation logically. The ball wasn't anywhere around the tree, and it wasn't anywhere under the tree. So where was it? Hold on, there was still one place left to look. With the end of my club I gently nudged the duck off her nest and to my amazement there among a nest full of brown duck eggs sat my golf ball. Mother mallard had been trying to hatch it! I quickly removed the ball and played my next shot knowing full well that that was as close to a birdie as I would be all day.





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