Rookie on the Green

I’m a very patient, laid-back person, but the guy we got paired with for 18 holes today got on even my nerves.  To set the stage, my husband and I were walking the course and this guy and his friend had a cart.

Things started off badly when on the first hole, the guy drove his cart right in front of us on the fairway as we were setting up to hit our second shots.  No amount of yelling could dissuade him, so we went for it and had to yell fore because he was sitting in the path of the ball in the cart.  It was pretty hard to understand why someone would do this, and he did it on just about every hole.  He was just oblivious, when common courtesy (and common sense) is not to stand in front of or park your cart in front of someone who’s hitting a shot.

The problem got worse and worse the more beer the guy drank (and he was the only one drinking). He also got slower and slower on his shots to the point that even though he had the cart and we were walking, we always ended up waiting on him — it got to the point he was really holding up the pace of play.

The most unfortunate side effect of all the beer was that the guy felt the need to relieve himself behind every tree (and on a fence, and even on the sidewalk next to a tee box).  It seemed like every time I looked up, he was doing it again.  Ay caramba!  That was downright disgusting.  I did everything in my power not to shake his hand at the end of the round, but somehow I was forced into it!  At least I gave him my glove hand…blechhh!!!  To top it all off, he kept on calling me “hon” and “honey” in a really obnoxious way throughout the round.

One kind of funny thing did happen, though.  I think even the guy’s friend was (FINALLY) starting to notice that the guy was really out of it.  On about my 5th shot on a par 4, I happened to land the ball in the hole from about 50 yards out (yes!).  The guy was convinced it was a hole in one and that if he signed the witness card I could get my name in the paper.  His friend had to yell at him for him to believe that this was not actually a hole in one.

Bottom line:  we would have had a much better outing without all the frustrations this guy brought on — it just wasn’t a pleasant time.  It was hard to focus and was just constantly aggravating.  Maybe we should have just let him and his friend play ahead of us to wash our hands of the bad apple.  The moral of the story:  please, please, please don’t be THAT GUY!

I was in my hometown of Las Cruces, New Mexico last week and my brother and I played the back nine at the New Mexico State University Golf Course, starting here at the Rich Beem tee at 10.  It couldn’t have been a more perfect day:  72 degrees with a cool breeze.  A far cry from the ice and snow of Minnesota.  My round started off with a small mishap, however, when I broke my sister-in-law’s driver at the driving range warming up.  I’m not sure what happened, but when I hit the ball, it sounded hollow.  I looked down and here’s what I found:

Oops.  And that wasn’t my only blooper.  NMSU’s course is a beautiful desert course and my ball managed to find a yucca.  I was looking around on the ground for my ball when someone in our group pointed out where it landed:

Here’s a closeup in case you can’t see where the ball ended up:

This was a fun nine holes despite (or maybe because of) these goofy incidents and the scenery was gorgeous.  Here’s a shot as the sun started going down, with the NMSU campus and Las Cruces in the background.

Yesterday I saw a guy on the golf course who looked a lot like this. This is the closest approximation I could find on the web, excluding the mullet and beer can. At first I couldn’t believe my eyes… is that guy on the 10th tee really wearing a half-shirt? And is it really shredded and could he pass for the Unabomber from the neck up? Yes, yes, and yes. The half-shirt did not seem to be a joke. How he got on the course, I’m not sure, but he was a spectacle.

And then today we had Muscleshirt Man. Unfortunately I got a real picture of this one. He, if no one else, was definitely impressed with himself… If these guys can pull this business off, why can’t a girl wear a tank top to stave off a farmer’s tan?