Comedy And Funny Stories About Golf: My Golf Bloopers And Embarrassing Moments

Comedy And Funny Stories About Golf: My Golf Bloopers And Embarrassing Moments

Funny Story About Golf: My Golf Bloopers

If any of you follow along with my funny stories, it should come as no surprise to you that I also have a funny story – in fact several funny stories – about golf.  I call these my golf bloopers for lack of a better term.

I still maintain that I am perhaps the most coordinated person I know.  I also maintain that I am extremely athletic.  If I wasn’t athletic, how could I have accomplished my soccer bloopers?  And further, how would I have so many athletic defining moments such as my ability to ski? 

Well, I can hear you shaking your head about now.  Pathetic does not equal athletic.  Poultry in motion does seem to extend itself readily for me across many different sport venues. 

With that in mind, be kind – here are my golf bloopers.

Photo Credit: Flickr akeg

You might think that is me – but it isn’t. That also might be Bob – but it isn’t. This couple, however, nicely state the ‘flavor’ of my golf game!

The Story of My Golf Bloopers

I do have to preface this series of golf bloopers with the disclaimer that I did not learn to play golf by choice. Much as I did not learn to ski by choice. You see, I am a very athletic person by nature (seriously) but I like to pick and choose what sports I like myself…such as soccer and urban mushing.

However, I discovered early on that in order to participate in family events, it was a matter of if you can’t beat ’em, join ’em. Everyone else golfed and I was the only hold-out other than my daughter. For crying out loud, even my visually impaired son plays golf. Every time we had people visiting us, they all played golf. So I decided that rather than be left behind all the time where I could engage in such fun sports such as cooking and cleaning, I decided I’d best get my butt in gear and learn the fine art of golfing.

All this said, I was reluctant to learn. Something about it just
frustrated the living daylights outof me. Even the fact that my
staunchest ‘athletic supporter’, my dear husband Bob was behind me all
the way did not help.

He kept on encouraging me though, saying
such things as ‘You’re a natural, Audrey’. Ah, music to my ears. So I
trudged on….literally.


imagine that any sane person would take lessons before embarking on such
an endeavor as learning a technical sport such as golf – but not me! I
was convinced, in part by my supportive yet obviously misinformed
husband, that I was in fact very athletic and I could master any sport
if only given the opportunity and a short learning curve. You see, I am
extremely competitive by nature – not in the fact that I must WIN – but
in the fact that I expect to master everything in basically 2 snaps of
the fingers. I personally do not believe in taking the long way to
learn anything.

Bob kindly even bought me a set of golf clubs –
now how could I possibly get out of this mess? I was going to have to
learn whether I liked it or not. He kindly took me to a 9-hole golf
course because I obviously was not ready for the ‘big time’. He very
patiently walked me through the rules – I might add SHOUTING at me
several times while I was standing on the green about such things as
golf etiquette. How was I to know that I wasn’t supposed to bring up
our son Jonathan’s latest escapade when he was getting ready to putt?
Geez – what a grouch!

Then of course I walked across his putting
‘line’ and put a nice big foot print in the way when he was going to
putt out. Who knew? Then there was the episode of jumping up and down
and screaming when I sunk my first putt. Something about decorum. See –
already I’m totally NOT liking this game. It’s for a bunch of
pantywaist prissy people if you ask me!

Then there’s the glove – I
hate the glove. I had to buy one without fingertips because I hate the
way it makes my hand sweat. Geez Louise – I had to do a 45-minute
check before I even walked out on the course! ‘Do you have your balls?’
‘Yes, Bob – I have mine – do you have YOURS?’

‘Do you have
your ball markers?’ (At first I thought I was supposed to use a magic
marker to draw on them but he quickly told me the error of THAT
thought!) ‘Do you have all your clubs and know how to use them?’ I
just answered yes to everything because I really didn’t have a clue. ‘Do
you have your tees?’ (Well I had my tee-SHIRT – did that count?)

all that prepping crap, to include getting the bag on the cart (not me,
the real golf bag), checking all my pockets for stuff and making sure I
had everything at the ready so I could throw out a new ball if needed
under pressure of “tick-tock”, donning my official ‘golf outfit’ (‘You
can’t just go out there looking like you were going to dig in the
garden, Audrey’)…I’m finally ready for the real deal, the actual play!

he shows me how to warm up by putting the club behind my back and
twisting this way and that. That was pretty easy – I didn’t have too
much trouble with that, although I accidentally bonked him with the club
on the back when I got out of the stretch position! (‘Sorry, Bob –
didn’t see you standing there!’)

Very patiently, my husband of
decades marches me through what to do on the drive, how to set my tee up
and how to hit the ball. He tells me how to position myself and he
steps back to watch me take my first swing. Incredibly, I smashed the
living tar out of the ball and away it went down the fairway – now THAT
was pretty cool! He seemed really surprised. I could have told him it
would be like that. After all, I am very athletic!

The rest of
the game didn’t go AS well to tell the truth. I seem to have a real
passion for losing my concentration because I get so freaking BORED on
the golf course. I’m sorry but all that walking or riding around out in
nature just takes the edge off my competitive streak. I started to
wish I had a book I could read in between hits – or music to listen to.
It seemed to me that this game was a lot about patience and waiting
around – 2 things I’m not overly fond of to tell the truth.

probably played about 5 or 6 holes now – and I’m REALLY wanting to join
this other group of Asian fellows who are playing a few holes behind us.
They are laughing their butts off – and they aren’t even drinking!
They are just having so much fun and I’m stuck over here with Mr.
Serious Sportsman who is going to by God teach me by day’s end how to
play golf the ‘real way’. Sigh… of them has just hit the ball
into the cow pasture and is climbing the fence to go retrieve it,
meanwhile dodging a running cow or two – they are really having more fun
than me!

So….I’m a ways from the green, which unfortunately
happens to be up a slope. Bob is standing up on the green and he’s
holding the pole or flag or whatever it’s called – and he is yelling
back to me to ‘chip’ the ball. Well, he gave me a couple of basics on
chipping (which I might add I did not really feel comfortable doing).

yell up to him – ‘Bob – do you really think you should be standing
there? This seems really dangerous because you know – I don’t play all
that well. Don’t you think you’d better just leave the flag and step

‘Oh don’t be stupid, Audrey – what can happen? Just go
ahead and chip the damned ball – can’t you see there are people behind
us? We’re holding them up!’ (Translation: YOU are holding them up!!)

one thing I don’t do well with is pressure. Any kind of
pressure….the more I feel stressed, the worse things usually get. I
did not seriously want to chip this stupid ball anywhere but now he was
telling me that I was going to be responsible for golf snarls….I must
act quickly or risk being viewed as a slow top!

So head down, I
tried to do just what he taught me to do – just to chip the ball.
Unfortunately, from early on in my golfing career (that morning), I have
hit like I was Ken Griffey Junior – I swing for the fences. I have had
several people ask me if I was trying to hit a home run rather than
play golf…that might be the case. At any rate, I wound up and ‘crack’
– I nailed that ball.

The next thing I heard was a scream, then
swearing. I looked up to see Bob on the green obviously not happy with
me! He had thrown down the blasted flag and he was jumping about on the
green screaming obscenities. It appeared that I had nailed him in the
shin with my 100 mph golf ball ‘chip’. Oh bummer…..I do have to say
that the Asian group was laughing hysterically and pointing at me. I
waved in return.

‘Jesus Christ, Audrey – what the hell were you
thinking? Do you know how HARD you hit that GD ball? What if it had
hit me in the head?’ (Me thinks Bob is a little ticked at me and he
obviously has forgotten about golf etiquette!)

‘Well – you said to
chip it. I did the best I could – and if you remember correctly, I
asked you NOT to stand there and that I didn’t feel comfortable yet with
my skill set in this game. Guess that’s the way the golf ball
crumbles, pal’.

Needless to say, he did not hold the pin for me for quite some time.

Somehow we made it unscathed (mostly) through that first lesson of golf and we were still speaking by the time we went home.

The Learning Curve

The next outing, he decides to take me to a different golf course
entirely. I was wondering if I’d really messed up and embarrassed him
and that was why – but oh well. Off we go. This time, the course is
very busy and that makes me nervous right there. The last thing I need
when I’m golfing is other people on the course. I seriously would like
to just be the only party on the course but how often does that happen?

This is a step up from the 9-hole course he had taken me to before. This was a course that had all 18 holes and sigh, he was expecting me to pay attention and play the WHOLE thing. Already I’m nervous – so when I step up to the first tee, I’m worried. There are people waiting a bit off behind us (why can’t they wait inside is what I want to know). Then as an added distraction, they have to put the putting green off to the right of me, where there are 4 old guys in their plaid pants practicing their putts. If I was smart, that’s where I’d be. (I think that 10 putt finish is killing my score)

So I nonchalantly step up, place my tee just so and position my ball at just the right height so I can shred it as it flies beautifully down the fairway dead center. Too bad I had a bad case of the nerves. It was those people behind me – I could FEEL them staring at me and waiting for me to get done! I tried to shake it off and I mentally told myself to relax and hit the blasted ball.

I wound up, drew my club back just as Bob had told me to do – and completely went right over the top of the ball – with a resounding WHOOSH. ‘Strike 1’ I heard someone in my head call! For crying in the night – now I can’t even HIT the ball.

‘Okay – settle down you freak – you can DO this. Let’s show them what you’re made of’. Wind up, get set, draw the club back again and start the descent of the club – only to hear again WHOOSH! ‘Strike 2’ – This time Bob said it out loud! Oh-my-GOD – are you kidding me? Now I have been rendered golf impaired and I cannot even find the ball let alone hit it.

I am no stranger to working under pressure and when the going gets tough, I just get tougher. I’m mentally cursing myself for even attempting to play this stupid game but by god, I am no quitter. I am going to nail this ball if it’s the last thing I do! So I wind up one last time and as I come down on the ball again, I unfortunately heard WHOOSH again! ‘Strike 3’ I said out loud – ‘Does that mean I can go sit down now and I’m out?’

Bob is beyond mortification. He can’t believe that I’m holding up all these blasted people and that I’m behaving so badly. He comes up to me with his grim face on and whispers through his teeth ‘What in the name of god are you DOING? Don’t you see the ball lying there – can’t you possibly HIT it?’ I of course start to waver between furious (want to see what I can do with my golf club, Bob?) and teary-eyed (why is he yelling at me?). It is just hopeless – I know this but he hasn’t realized it yet.

So I assure him that yes, indeed, I had a little lapse of my brain there for a minute Bob, just testing you to see if I could get your blood pressure up a tad more – now I’m gonna get serious and crank the heck out of this ball. (I would feel a lot better if someone just pitched me the golf ball but no one thinks that is appropriate!)

I get into my stance again, give myself a mental shake or three, and wind up. I’m talking to myself almost out loud now ‘Come ON, Audrey – hit the damned ball and get OUT of here’. Something listened but I’m not sure it was the right something. As I came down on the ball, I must have done something right (because I actually HIT the ball) but I definitely did something wrong (like major TOP the ball) because the ball which was struck with enough force for a 450 foot home run went STRAIGHT UP into the sky about 100 feet it seemed and then began its descent – alarmingly as I watched – straight at the 4 old men who were on the putting green.

I screamed at the top of my lungs ‘FORE’ and luckily so – I never thought 4 old guys could move so fast but they did! Bob is absolutely red in the face now and is yelling at me (what happened to golf etiquette I want to know – and being calm and quiet?). ‘Are you trying to KILL people – what the hell are you DOING?’ ‘Geez, I don’t know Bob – just trying to hit the stupid white ball that you told me to quit messing with and this is what happens!’

Bob advanced on the foursome to see if they were okay. They chuckled (or so it appeared from where I stood turning all shades of red) and waved to me. How nice – golfers really are nice people you know! They politely handed Bob the ball and then one of them said something behind his hand to Bob, Bob laughed, took the ball and approached me with it. Suspicions flew in my mind. Probably telling him to take me to the car and lock the door.

Much to Bob’s credit, he did not repeat what they had said – of course the people are STILL behind me…oh duh….and I STILL have to hit the ball off the first blasted tee. I think I may have set a record for the longest time on the tee. At least this time, my nerves were so frayed that I just set it up quickly and smashed the crap out of it. It sailed reluctantly down the middle of the fairway – whew. However, as soon as I turned from the tee to put my driver back, the 4 old men (and the people behind me) broke into applause. One of the old guys even tipped his hat. How humiliating!

So off we go…..many holes and many scores later, we came to a hole where some sprinklers were going. I protested quite vehemently that we needed to skip this hole as I didn’t want the added aggravation of playing near the sprinklers. Bob very patiently explained that it wasn’t a big deal – just avoid hitting near them or into them. I looked at him blankly – why didn’t I think of that???

Of course, as my luck would have it when I hit my ball, I shanked it and where did it land? Right in the center of the path of the 3 sprinklers that were making a sweep in a circle. There lay my golf ball, all nice and clean – and definitely in the path of the sprinklers. I just looked helplessly at Bob and said ‘Well, I guess I’ll just bite it for this hole – I’m not going out there to get the ball’.

Without batting an eye, he politely recited the rules of golf to me, which were he said that you had to play the ball where it landed. ‘So guess what, Audrey – you have to go play the ball from the sprinklers’. Like the nimrod that I am sometimes, instead of asking to see a copy of these rules, after much argument on my part and threats of bodily harm (also on my part), I tromped out into the middle of the area where the sprinklers were going full blast and hit the bloody ball out.

On stomping back to the cart, I find Bob doubled over laughing himself sick (of course) – he can’t BELIEVE that I believed him and went out to hit my ball out. Of course, I’m drenched from top to bottom and have water in my golf shoes. My hair is hanging about my face like I’ve been in a downpour (which I had), and I’m so mad I could have easily wrapped my club around his smirking face. ‘Payback’s a bitch, Bob’. (I might add that folks ahead and behind us got quite the show and enjoyed it thoroughly – at my expense).

Practice Makes Perfect

As in most things, if you keep at it long enough, you have to get better. In my case, I’m not sure that this theory applies, however. I played pretty routinely and did improve in some aspects of my game. However, I have to say that for me, it is a hit and miss (literally) kind of situation.

On one family vacation, when we had everyone and their brother (again, literally) out on a crowded golf course in SunRiver, Oregon, it came my turn to tee off. I really thought I had improved and was definitely holding my own in golf. I’d only pulled my abdominal muscles once during the vacation hitting off the tee so I considered myself much improved!

As it came around to my turn to tee off, I stepped up to the first hole tee, set my ball and let her fly. Unfortunately, there was a pesky telephone pole that sat on the side of the first tee midway down the fairway and when I hit the ball with enough force to drive it into orbit, it somehow found that blasted telephone pole and came right back at us!

I heard someone scream ‘INCOMING’ behind me and everyone in my party and the parties behind us ducked or hit the deck. How totally humiliating was that? I do have to say though, under fire, I am nothing but calm. I waved to my supporters and picked up the ball and tried again. I do have to say, people REALLY pay attention when I hit a drive. Or chip – or putt for that matter now that I think about it! 

Summing Up My Funny Story About Golf and Golf Bloopers

I can almost hear you asking right now ‘So why didn’t you take lessons?’ Well, I did!! I’ll have you know that I took 2 golf lessons! One lesson, I got the canister lecture – how you were supposed to be swinging as if you were in a canister and going around inside that canister with your swing, keeping it tight and close to your body. I only succeeded in clipping myself in the back of my own ankle once before I decided to lose THAT great theory! The instructor did warn me that I was going to tear a muscle in my side if I kept on swinging like that – but oh well…shows what he knew…I only strained it – I never tore it!

The second lesson was in none other than my favorite place in the world – SunRiver, Oregon, at the beautiful and posh golf course that is the hallmark of SunRiver Resort. I would have liked to have died but unfortunately, I did not expire there and then. After standing out in the wind for an hour listening to this young, good looking golf pro try and fix everything that was wrong with my game, he was just finishing up the lesson and he wanted me to take one more swing, hit one more drive. He was going to video tape it – thank God he did not!

At any rate, I got ready and went into my very strong driving mode, and when I swung that club around, much to my humiliation and mortification, I farted. It could not have been a quiet fart – of course not! It had to be loud enough for my husband beside me on the other tee to hear me – and start laughing! I have to say the instructor was quite polite – he turned around to laugh. I very politely said I thought I’d had enough for the day – and Bob suggested that we all leave before a nuclear cloud swept in. (I get NO respect)

To this day, I struggle with golf as a favorite sport! It is NOT my favorite sport. I keep telling myself that I can do it and that I can get better at it but I think there is something missing in it for me. Of course, it might be all the comedy associated with it. The last time that we went to play golf, I had a packet of peanuts in my pocket – in case I went into a coma waiting for the fun to end, I wanted to have some protein to pull me out of it. I stopped at the restroom hut about midway through the game and on coming out, I was greeted by the biggest goose I have ever seen in my life. As I looked over, Bob was sitting in the cart and watching the goose approach me.

Of course, instead of trying to help me, as the goose ran at me honking all the while, flapping its wings, my husband drove off in the cart! You have to be KIDDING me! I later figured out it must have been the peanuts that set this goose’s teeth on edge so to speak and he or she was definitely wanting my peanuts! I was running down the road as fast as I could go with this stupid idiotic thing flapping after me (do you know how hard it is to run in golf shoes?) when I suddenly remembered the peanuts and just threw them behind me in a Hail Mary effort and kept running after the cart.

Seriously – I’d like to knock him over the head with a golf club one of these days!

My favorite person to play golf with is my visually impaired son. Somehow we manage to have the best of time – probably because it just doesn’t matter. We just enjoy it together – and I let him drive the cart. Now THAT’S interesting!

Bob did have his own blooper – but only one as he is not as comedy-endowed as I seem to be. We were playing on a stormy morning in Washington state where we get few if any thunderstorms. At the first rumble of thunder, I picked up my club, put it into the cart and took off for the clubhouse. When I turned back to ask what he was doing, he informed me that he wasn’t leaving since he had the best score EVER! Oh well…..

As I looked out the window of the clubhouse, much to my surprise (not), I saw the young kid who did the grounds keeping fly around the corner on 2 wheels in his METAL TRUCK and practically shoot out the other side of the garage in his effort to get out of the thunder and lightning.

Next, to my amazement, I saw a very heavyset man (holding onto his golf cart I might add) running towards the clubhouse as if the hounds of hell were chasing him…and not far behind him and overtaking him at the last moment with a sprint into the lead, was none other than my jock husband, Bob (also pulling his golf cart behind him). I never knew he could run that fast!

When the 2 men burst into the clubhouse, the first thing out of the heavyset man’s mouth when he could breathe was ‘Oh my God – it came outta nowhere (right) – the lightning hit the ground and was gonna go right up my club so I dropped it. I grabbed it after a minute and ran. I was so scared, I left my balls out there!’

You can’t resist something like that – so I said (of course very politely)….. ‘Which set?’ Ah golf – gotta love it – especially the etiquette!

Bob has advised me that I should wear a helmet when playing golf – and that people in the same party (or even on the course for that matter) probably should as well. I think that might be over exaggerating my skills – but oh well! I just need more practice!

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I Want to Play With These Guys!

I Did NOT Do This!

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