Yesterday's Post reminded me about golfing with my mom when I was in high school. My guidance counsellor got me into this summer program where we got to learn something 'for fun'. For reasons beyond my ken, I chose to take 'Photography' and 'Golf & Archery'.
That's right I chose 'Stand in a dark closet with dangerous chemicals' and 'Swing metal clubs & Shoot arrows while trying not to kill anyone'. Why someone didn't call a doctor and put me on suicide watch I will never know.
The photography part turned out OK. Only a few of my pictures came out though. Turns out I can use a camera, I just can't develop film without starting a fire. I had no idea developer fumes were flammable. Anyway nobody got hurt and they didn't press charges so a good time was had by all.
The archery part turned out to be horribly boring. Our arrows had no points. What's the point of an arrow with no point? Wait, what the hell did I just say? Oh, never mind. They made us shoot pointless arrows into soft foam targets. Where's the fun in that? How can you have adventure without danger?
The real highlight of the summer courses was the golf. After two weeks of intensive training I thought I was Tiger Woods. I actually looked up the schedule for the Canadian Open. I wanted to play some golf. But first I had to find someone who would golf with me. Nobody was interested, so for my first real golf game I had to go with my mom.
Stop laughing, dammit.
We decided to try nine holes at Satellite Golf out in Stoney Creek. Satellite Golf was (and still is) the cheapest golf course and driving range in the entire Golden Horseshoe. I think a small bucket of balls for the range is a dollar, and if you don't have a driver, they'll lend you a beat up club with yellow paint all over it so you won't steal it. The club girl however is staggeringly hot, so the place is always busy, all season long. Go figure.
Our first game went so slowly we had to keep letting people play through while we searched the rough for our balls. I lost at least six balls in the lake. I lost one ball in a tree. It went up, but it never came down. I guess gravity was off getting a beer from the hot club girl.
The last two holes though were the most exciting. On the eighth hole I drove my shot so hard it went over the fence and reached the highway. It bounced down the road, where it hit a gravel truck and began ricocheting between the vehicles. It stayed in the air for at least half a minute, until it got caught in the grill of a gasoline truck and was lost from sight.
I thought I wouldn't be able to top that, but I was wrong. On the last hole, less than a hundred yards from the pin, I again used too much club and overshot. The ball sailed neatly over the green, across the fence into the parking lot and went through the Satellite Golf sign. It's not my fault the wood was rotten. I don't see why they got so upset. If the sign says Satellite Goof now, so what?
Philistines.
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