Jerry Uses a Brassey (a short story about golf)

My Daily Post images (1)

It was the first round of golf I ever played with Jerry—and my last. I’m not even a handicap player, but his golfing defies any description I can presently come up with.

Jerry owned a set of clubs that could have set him back an easy two grand. However, he played like a woman her first time at a driving range. In addition, he talked as if he were the club pro.

At the fourth hole a twosome playing behind us asked if they could play through. After all, Jerry was taking five or six strokes to reach the green and the twosome were on in two or three.

Jerry set his ball on the tee.

Excuse me,” the man said, “do you mind if we play through?”

You got to be kidding me,” Jerry said. “Haven’t you ever heard of golf etiquette?”

That’s why we’d like to play through,” the man said. “We are having to wait at every hole.”

Sir,” Jerry said,” Golf etiquette is, you don’t speak or interrupt a golfer when addressing the ball. I was addressing the ball.”

The twosome drove their cart back to the clubhouse. I stood embarrassed and made an effort to correct Jerry without offending him.

Every hole was a new wrinkle in golfing ineptitude and vulgarity. By the ninth hole I made up my mind to sell by clubs and give up golf, because Jerry already spoke about golfing together next week.

After six hours of searching for balls, wading in steams, and cursing golf clubs we arrived at the 18th tee – 145 yards, par three.

Jerry tees up. “Can you hand me my brassey.”

After 17 holes he’s now treating me like his caddy, so I’ll talk to him like a caddy.

Jerry, I’d hit from the turf with a 7.”

Nope,” Jerry said, “I’ve played many holes like this; hand me the brassy.”

If you catch it right it will go over the club house and into the parking lot.”

I know what I’m doing; the brassy, please.”

Get your own brassy,” I said, grabbed my clubs from the cart, walked toward the club house, and called it a day.

After not more than a dozen steps there was a woosh and snap. I watched Jerry’s ball sail high, right for the club house. Suddenly it lost speed and altitude and dropped on the very front of the green, bounced, and rolled into the cup.”

Did you witness that?” Jerry screamed.

What?” I said.

 

Advertisements

One comment

  1. Golf is an enjoyable game and you should not have to give it up because your friend is a A-hole. Find a new friend.

Blather away, if you like.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s