Why are there so many golf tees found about halfway between the tee box and the green?
If golf cart driving instructions warn against operating the cart on hill sides, wooded areas or rough terrain, how will I ever get to my golf ball?
Why are golf clubs named after obese women or animals, namely “Big Bertha, “Hippo” and “Whale”? Wilson even has out a “Killer midsize Whale.” There are no midsized whales!
I think I would rather go with a “King Cobra” or at least, a regular “Cobra,” or maybe a “Lynx,” “Hawk-Eye, “War Bird," or even a “Black Cat.” Would I make these up?
Odyssey is putting out a few “Limited Edition” putters. I'll bet if you couldn't find one, they'd probably raise the production limit, with prices like that.
Fairway woods, I read about all the time. Are there no rough woods? I'd buy one.
Carbite Golf has a “Viper Bite” putter on the market. I've been places on a golf course where that was a remote possibility, but a putter sure wasn't the instrument I needed at the time. Maybe a shotgun or a snake bite kit.
And how about those water proof shoes? If they are needed, then you're dumb enough to play in the rain, or you're wading around in creeks, looking for your ball. In either case, you need to change your medication, find a support group or get help, somewhere.
“FootJoy” shoes are for wearing while riding in a golf cart. If you're walking, cross out the “Joy.”
Golf sandals are now on the market. Should go great with lavender plus fours, a mauve tank top and a cute little hat with a smiley face on it.
Now, let's consider the names of golf courses. If the game isn't intimidating enough, try these names from Myrtle Beach's Grand Strand on for size:
Barefoot Bay — They think they have a lock on barefoot? I'm usually that way about twice per round, looking for my ball in the bay.
Bricklanding — Anyone who has played the latest courses, surrounded by huge homes, knows the sound of a new Titleist landing on brick.
Deertrack — If I wanted to track deer, I'd stay home, where the deer are eating my azaleas.
Diamondback — Who wants to venture out in the rough on a course with a name like that?
Lion's Paw — The lion's maw beat me six to five last time out.
Man-o-War — A great race horse, but gimmie the odds on finishing with 14 sticks.
Marsh Harbour — I've consistently hit 'em in both.
Panther Run — Show me the panther, and I'll show you the run.
Possum Trot — Describes my gait after being hit in the groin by a stray drive.
Tiger's Eye — All I need to make my day is to come eye to eye with a big stinking cat.
Robber's Roost — Exorbitant green fees describe this gem very well.
Wicked Stick — Would I lie you? Describes at one time or another every club in my bag, and some that are no longer there, now sleeping with the fishes.
The Wizard — Mistakenly suggests intelligence, something lacking if you play the game.
Azalea Sands — I've spent more time in their azaleas and sands than a Master Gardner or Lawrence of Arabia.
Burning Ridge — After a snow man(8) on #3, it's not the only thing burning.
Eagles Nest — Now called Eagles Tree; the eagle had enough of the bad language in front of her chicks and left years ago. Then Hugo blew the nest away
Seagull — That's why I wear a wide-brimmed hat.
Arrowhead — George Custer was once the head pro here, but left for the Little Big Horn Country Club and Spa, a more challenging and exciting position, although he did find the neighbors a bit unfriendly.
Raccoon Run — If he sees my foursome coming, he'll definitely run, probably into the middle of the fairway, the safest place on the course.
Angels Trace — With the bad language prevalent, I don't think there would be a trace of angels.
Crow Creek — After putting three in the creek, I'll eat crow.
Brierwoods — I can take one or the other, but the combo kills me.
Heron Point — You'd think the skinny thing would point out where my ball left the club property.
World Tour — After six hours, it certainly seems like it.
Oyster Bay — There are more golf balls in the bay than oysters.