
"I was waiting on the tee for a group to clear the green on a short par 4 (310 yds.). The group behind us came along and started grousing about why I wasn't hitting. 'You can't reach that!' , 'Come on, Bubba, hit the ball!', and such. Soon the ranger pulled up and gave me a hard time, as well. I was getting mad, because I knew I could hit it that far, and I should be able to play the course the way I want to. Finally, the group in front moves on. I take one practice swing, then stripe my drive down the middle. But, about 100 yds out, it takes a violent turn to the left and flies into the trees. Boy, did I feel stupid."
"I'm warming up on the range before a round, and this guy parks his clubs beside me. I could hardly keep from laughing out loud when I saw he was wearing these God-awful pink and green Loudmouth pants, a pink shirt, and a Rickie-fanboy monoline hat. To complete the picture, he pulls out these blades and starts shanking ball after ball. I thought to myself, 'What a tool!'
I was playing as a single that day, and, sure enough, I get paired with the flamboyant shankasaurus, one of his buddies, and his brother-inlaw. It turned out he was a real nice guy. We knew a lot of the same people, so we chatted quite a bit. He also had the same handicap as me (but I beat him by one stroke that day
but who's counting). The irons he had were beautiful, and were a gift from his father. 'I struggle with them, at times, but I keep trying.' I had to ask him about the outfit. He said he won the shirt and pants in a tournament, and knew it would annoy his brother-inlaw so he wears it whenever they play together. Lol! "It's really comfortable, too. So it's a win-win'.
I could never wear that in a million years, but he seemed to more down to earth that I first thought."
Or a reply like this:
"I see how you could come to that conclusion, but I disagree. You seem like a nice enough guy - we should play a round of golf sometime and debate it more thoroughly."
Or, from KYMAR:
"I'm speechless".
Please add your own.
"I'm warming up on the range before a round, and this guy parks his clubs beside me. I could hardly keep from laughing out loud when I saw he was wearing these God-awful pink and green Loudmouth pants, a pink shirt, and a Rickie-fanboy monoline hat. To complete the picture, he pulls out these blades and starts shanking ball after ball. I thought to myself, 'What a tool!'
I was playing as a single that day, and, sure enough, I get paired with the flamboyant shankasaurus, one of his buddies, and his brother-inlaw. It turned out he was a real nice guy. We knew a lot of the same people, so we chatted quite a bit. He also had the same handicap as me (but I beat him by one stroke that day
I could never wear that in a million years, but he seemed to more down to earth that I first thought."
Or a reply like this:
"I see how you could come to that conclusion, but I disagree. You seem like a nice enough guy - we should play a round of golf sometime and debate it more thoroughly."
Or, from KYMAR:
"I'm speechless".
Please add your own.












