August 29, 2003

The Big Black-Out and Golf

I played golf the other day. The event was for charity and it was called a "scramble." A "scramble" is played thus: Each golfer hits his or her own ball (I say "his or her" because there are courses where, if you want to win, you get a good woman golfer who then is allowed to hit from the forward or "ladies" tees; and on many holes, that creates a huge advantage. Like the other day, the three guys I was playing with probably wished that they had asked a woman to play instead of me. Aaah, bite me -- everyone has a bad day.) The golfers then pick the best shot and each hits a ball from that spot. The process is repeated until one of them hits a ball into the hole.

In any event, I guess I havern't had enough practice. The three of them were whining that I never practice, which is true. As a general rule, I do not go to the golf range and hit dozens and dozens of golf balls. My philosophy is that each person is born with a limited number of good shots. Hitting practice shots at some guy driving around on a tractor covered with chicken wire with some kind of lawn-mower-like, ball-scooping device attached to it (That is the only thing I do at the golf range; otherwise, what is the fun about hitting golf balls? I wish they had those tractors on the course.) wastes those good shots with which you are born. (You golfers out there are probably snickering about this theory of mine. I am right about this. Do you want examples? Ian Baker Finch. Bill Rogers. Tom Weiskopf.)

Apparently, a guy named William S. (why cause him further embarassment?) does not subscribe to my theory on golf and practice, either. Many people were affected by the electrical power failure on August 14. We were without power for 17 hours. One of my golfing buddies in the "scramble" was without electricity for 10 minutes. Another guy in the foursome had his power back on within a couple hours.

Why wasn't power restored to us sooner than 17 hours? There is a generating plant along the lake shore not more than three miles away. You would think we would have been back on line in minutes. Heck, I can see the smoke stack from the second floor of the house.

I found the reason. It seems that William S. was staying at his parents' house when the power went out. Whether he was crazy or just plain angry because he couldn't watch the rest of Dr. Phil, he decided to take matters into his own hands.

He took out his dad's golf clubs and golf balls and started hitting golf balls from the back yard, across the railroad tracks (yes, those railroad tracks), right into the power company's electrical sub-station. The dumb fuck not only exhausted his father's supply of golf balls, both practice balls and brand-new Titleists (which could have cost up to $48 per dozen), but caused several thousand dollars worth of damage to the transmission equipment and glass insulators.

He got charged with two felonies -- vandalism and disruption of a public utility and could face up to two years in prison. If he subscribed to my theory, well ...

Posted by Bill at August 29, 2003 02:21 PM
Comments

Please tell me you aren't defending him legally...

Posted by: Kathy Howe at August 29, 2003 06:39 PM

He can get a lot of practicing done in those 2 years behind bars. I will collect stray golf balls from the gardens of our office and send them to him in prison.

Posted by: Michelle at August 30, 2003 03:16 AM

That is an awesome story. Too bad for that poor fellow, but at least he got his practice in during the blackout. All we did was drink beer before it got warm. Oh, by the way, what did you hope to accomplish by saying "potatoe," smarty pants?

Posted by: Brett at September 3, 2003 04:14 PM