What’s up with Golf?

Last week on a sunny and warm summers day I was golfing with my cousin at a course I’d never played before. Since he’d played the course numerous times, he pointed out where to hit the ball to get the best lie. We walked up to a hole that had a fairway that was twenty-feet-wide. I could only see the fairway for sixty-yards, and then it dropped over a hill. The score card said that this hole was one hundred and twenty yards. My cousin said to hit the ball in the middle of the fairway and just over the top of the hill.

I stepped onto the tee box, stuck my tee into the ground, and placed the ball on the tee. I put the clubhead behind the ball, drew the club back and swung. Crack! The ball went right down the middle of the fairway and just barely cleared the hill. When I hit a golf ball, it very seldom goes straight, but this one did!

We walked the fairway to the top of the hill. Looking down, my mouth fell open. It was very steep at a sixty-degree angle and must have dropped sixty feet. At the bottom, it was twelve feet across the green, but it wasn’t green, it was water. The hole was on top of a pipe that was in the middle of a small pond.

My ball had landed on a narrow strip of grass about ten feet from the hole. The fairway down to the green was about seven feet wide in the shape of a half pipe. The sides were five feet high. Thick trees lined both sides of the fairway going down the hill. “How do we get down to the green?” I asked.

“We slide down the fairway.”

“No way! Our clothes will get full of dirt and grass stains. And it’s impossible not to get wet when we get to the pond,”

“It is the only way to get to the green.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive, I’ve golfed here many times and this is the only way down. This course is known for this hole and I’m surprised that you haven’t heard about it.”

“OK, here I go.”

I slid down the hill and when I got to the pond, I tried to go around it. I was going too fast and slid right through the water. When I stopped on the other side, I was soaking wet and covered with mud and grass clippings. The water felt nice and cool as it was a warm day. My cousin was still at the top of the hill, doubled over laughing. I watched him slide down the hill and into the pond, splashing water all over me, not that it mattered because I was already soaked. “Let’s see if you can get a birdie on this hole by pitching the ball into the cup. If you make the shot, I’ll buy lunch at the club house,” he said.

This hole was a par three, but it should have been a par thirty! The cup was two feet off the water on top of a pipe in the middle of the pond. I pulled my pitching wedge out of my golf bag and walked over to the ball. I didn’t even take a practice swing and just hit the ball. The ball flew up into the air, cleared the water and landed right in the hole. My cousin started yelling, “Nice shot! I don’t believe it! I’ve never gotten anything under ten strokes on this hole nor have I seen anyone else get a birdie.”

I couldn’t say anything because I was stunned that I made the shot. Then I woke up from a crazy dream.