This blog is going to be dedicated golfers worldwide. I will be posting articles on instruction, equipment reviews, reviews on the best resources for golfers on the internet, travel and much much more.
If you have any questions regarding your swing, equipment, or anything to do about golf, then please feel free to e-mail me at: golf@wholovesgolf.com
There will also be a section for your stories, so if you have any funny golf stories, or stories about your amazing feats on the golf course, please let me know and I will post them on the site for you.
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The wife and I were on vacation in Toronto, Canada. The couple we were visiting are affectionately known as ‘newbie’s’ to the game of golf. We decided to try an Executive-par 3 just down the road from their home. It was a beautiful little course, clean, well kept and in excellent condition. The property had originally been a driving range and they laid out the course in a horseshoe style, around the screened in driving range. We were having a very enjoyable round, when the incident occurred. The 17th green is maybe 10 yards off the catch net for the driving range, and the 18th tee box is 30 yards left of the 17th green. They have sheltered the 18th tee box with several trees and a 12-foot steel wire fence. The 18th fairway is a dogleg left, running parallel to a deep, water and rock filled ditch. To go for the flagstick, one has to aim over the ditch at the point of the dogleg. I teed up my ball and assumed the address position. As I reached the top of my backswing, a ball from the 17th tee, found its way through the trees and fence and landed about a foot from my ball. Needless to say it scared the life out of me, but it was way too late to stop my swing. I hooked the ball severely to the left. I watched in disgust as my ball headed into the ditch. The next few seconds seemed to almost stop in time, as I watched the ball disappear into the ditch, then miraculously re-appear, only this time its going the wrong direction, directly at my head. I dropped my club, and at the same time dropped to the ground, the ball missed me by inches and disappeared out onto the 17th fairway. My next shot was from 20 yards further back on 17. My friends thought it would have made an interesting newspaper headline, “Golfer visits from New Brunswick, and kills himself with own ball”.
I love golf. I hate golf. I love golf.
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