I gave serious thought to just listing it here, For Sale. Golf is about as frustrating a sport as was ever devised by man.

I've never had a rifle, pistol or shotgun suddenly stop shooting. They're reliable, more or less. A 3-Wood, oh hell no! Treat you good for years, then suddenly turn on you.

After three years of treating me like shit, I bought a new one. (Probably the old one just didn't have any more good shots left in it. Shot the rifling out of it, so to speak.)

The new Ping G30 3-Wood was a thing of beauty. Blue & black, high tech SOB. A can't-miss solution to an aggravating problem.

I Lost it Wednesday. Playing Firewheel in Garland, Texas.

Ever since day one, the new 3-Wood had treated me like the old Ping G20 3-Wood; bit me in the ass every time I pulled it out of the bag. Wednesday, on Hole #17, I barely hit it out of my shadow off the tee. (I had already mishit it a handful of times that day.) I walked up to my ball. It's sitting pretty good in deep rough. I took another well thought-out swing and moved it forward about ten feet. That's when I lost it.

With my partner yelling, "Don't do it! Don't do it!" I wound-up and threw the Ping G30 3-Wood as far down the fairway as I possibly could. (I haven't been a club-thrower since the 70s, but everything changed on Hole #17 on Wednesday.)

Looking back, it was probably a mistake. I used a little too much left hand, and pulled the throw dead-left with a little more arc on the throw than I intended. I think I looked up.

It helicoptered up into the top of an evergreen tree. That's where I Found it. My smart-ass partner, never at a loss for words said, "that's not coming down".

Sure it's coming down. They all do. "Leave it", I said.

We finished the round, had a beer and a hamburger, and I road back to pick up the club. As I drove up it's in plain view ... still in the top of the tree.

I went back to the clubhouse and explained to the staff what had happened. This type of thing must happen a lot because no one even smiled. I gave them my info and the details of the approximate landing area, along with my phone number.

Yesterday I checked with them, and they said they went out and looked at it. "That was one hell of a throw", was their comment. (Best 3-Wood shot I've made in three years, if I do say so myself.)

They told me they got nothing that can reach it. "We're going to have to wait for a strong wind", was how they put it. They mentioned that I should probably buy a new 3-Wood. That's when I told them that WAS a new 3-Wood. That's when their end of the phone line got quiet.

It's probably better for me and the 3-Wood that it stays right there in the top of that tree.

I can sympathize. Leave it and buy a different kind. You know what they say about the definition of insanity. Sounds like the G20 just does not work for you.

True story...my father was a very good golfer. They did not let him play from the senior tees until he was 72 when he was still shooting his age. One day we were on one particular green and he missed a putt badly. I saw the look on his face that I had not seen much since I was a child. He took the putter over to a small tree off the green and hit the tree so hard with the putter that it actually wrapped around the tree. obviously a steel shaft. He finished the round (12 holes) putting with his 3-wood. When we got back to the clubhouse, he explained what happened and apologized to the young fellow in there, who knew him quite well. The young fellow just said, "well, you marshal here. If you want it back, it will be there for you."

Well, my father passed away 5 years ago and when I played the course last month, the putter was still there. There was a plaque on it that said something like "Here is Ken's putter. If you can't putt better than him, take up a new sport." I laughed until I cried.

Frigging Golf. I've never understood why grown men try to play qame that is designed to drive the players crazy. Women serve the samet purpose but have sex and cook to offset it.

IF you can cast better than you can drive, go back with a reasonably heavy lead tired onto a breakable leader and see if you can knock it loose. I would suggest a large lure with hooks but the golf course probably doesn't want their tree looking like a Christmas tree for fishermen.

Alright, I've gone as far as thinking about it.

I've also called the course to see if they can allow me on the course Monday, when they are closed. I have a 19' ladder, a 14' pruning tool, a fishing pole with God knows how much line, and a stepson that owes me big-time.

I'm thinkin' I can do this.

The fella at the course is going to check with their management to see if insurance-wise they don't have a problem with a 70-year-old guy possibly doing a high-wire act on their property. (I think I know the outcome of that.)

The other part of the scheme, I mean plan, is to invite my stepson to lunch, and once I get him in the car, and to the course, tell him the food is in the top of the tree, and he needs to go get it. (If I play my cards right this should be like skinning one of Gato's hogs, someone else does the hard work and I hold a leg.)

Anyway, I need to call them back Sunday to see whether we can launch this plan or not.

The forecast calls for windy conditions on Wednesday. I've got a hardhat, worst-case I stand under the tree on Wednesday and wait.

Who says this forum is dying? Where else could you find friends to help you kill yourself from thousands of miles away. The power of the Internet in action.

Wait! Charlie, are the women supposed to cook???? Well, bloody hell (as Saeed would say). I thought WIFE was an Acronym...Wash, Iron, F$$K, Etc.

Just kidding, my wife is a great cook.

I am one of those that sees no sense to golf.

Maybe if it was done by opposing teams, riding Golf Carts, basically a motorized version of Polo, it might prove interesting!

I remember an old Toolpusher in the 70s. He used to bad-mouth golf and golfers. A total waste of time to him. He had one leg about three inches shorter than the other.

About ten years later, after losing track of him, I bumped into him at an oilfield golf tournament in Odessa, Texas. I jumped all over him because he was playing in the tournament. He almost looked embarrassed, like he'd been caught holding his pud.

He wasn't wearing golf shoes. He had had someone insert golf spikes into the soles of a pair of western boots. One sole was 3" thicker than the other. He admitted that he was addicted to golf, and he played a reasonable game. Don't ever say "never".

Sorry I can say never and mean it when it comes to golf.

I believe it was 5th grade PE class where I was first introduced to the concept of golf. My immediate reaction was - Well this is stupid. Many, many years later, my opinion on the subject hasn't changed.

The only way anyone catches me on a golf course is if I am chasing a wounded lion across it. But I do mindlessly stupid things too like jumping out of airplanes so who am I to judge... Carry on.

My second thoughts on the subject are that if you were dumb enough to chunk something you valued to the top of a tree, then you may not be smart enough to leave it there.

Ken, another option would be to find an arborist or a logger who can strap on climbing spikes and fetch you your 3 wood. I gave up on golf years ago because I never could develop any consistency. Now with the two lumbar surgeries I doubt I could even pretend to play.
And yes, I have heard the sound of golf clubs thrown in anger --- whoop, whoop, whoop, whoop, SPLASH!

quote:

I guess there is nothing that will get your mind off everything like golf. I have never been depressed enough to take up the game, but they say you get so sore at yourself you forget to hate your enemies. Will Rogers

At least he didn't die chasing a small white ball around.

I bought a one iron once........once.

Like Lee Trevino said,

If you are caught on a golf course during a storm and are afraid of lightning, hold up a 1-iron. Not even God can hit a 1-iron."

I never cared about the game but really enjoyed reading about its foibles by P.G. Wodhouse.

Randy, my dad would start laughing simply at the mention of "Golf Without Tears."

Update:

Lost - Found - Lost

As of Monday, it's not where I found it, in the top of a tree. Now I have to rely on the honesty of someone, or give it one more shot in a few weeks to see if it slid down somewhere in that evergreen, but hung-up before it hit the ground.

I'll probably use binoculars to see whether I can spot it. "Losing" it hasn't hurt my game, nor has it helped it.

The guy who found it probably thinks the gods of golf are telling him to try a new driver. Possibly you, too, in a convoluted way.

many years ago, I used to eat lunch at the club house on the Memphis Naval Station golf course. The lunch room overlooked the practice green and the 1st Tee. The only thing funnier than watching the hackers on the green and tee is watching people at a public boat ramp launch and take out boats. Both groups of people seem to be cut from the same cloth.

As well as Wodehouse,G.M. Fraser (Flashman fame,as well as others)did a series of McAuslen books;a (maybe) parody of his war years in the Burma campaign.' McAuslen in the Rough' is a very funny bit of tales concerning "the dirtiest soldier that ever lived" In the story when he is charged as the caddy to some very big scots Sgt. Major,the fun starts. FWIW,his biography in the Burma campaign is worth reading.The title is "Quartered Safe Out Here".