Sunday, 12th July 2020

This Month's Magazine
A Golf Story

A Golf Story

One Sunday last spring, I went to my weekly round of golf with my dad and grandad at our favourite country golf club. - By Bernie Chilten

Just as we reached the first tee, a beautiful young blonde woman approached us, carrying her bag of clubs. She explained that the member who brought her to the club for a round of golf had to leave in an emergency and asked whether she could join us.

Naturally, we all agreed. Smiling, the girl thanked us and said: - "Look, fellows, I work in a topless bar as a dancer, nothing shocks me anymore. If you want to smoke cigars, have a beer, bet, take a leak, swear or tell off-colour stories don't mind me, do as you normally do when playing together. But, please do not try to teach me or give me advice on playing my shots".

We agreed and invited her to drive first, with eyes fastened on her shapely behind as she bent to place her ball on the tee. She took her driver and hit the ball 270 yards down the middle, right in front of the green.

"Christ, that was beautiful," said dad. But the blonde said, "I really didn't get into it and I should have faded it a little."

After we hit our drives in turn and our second shots (she was closest to the pin) the blonde took out a nine iron and lofted the ball within five feet of the hole.

"Damn! Lady, you played that perfectly!" I said. She frowned and said: - "It was a little weak. I've left a tricky little putt."

I buried a long putt for a par, dad too putted for a bogey and granddad overran the green with his pitching wedge, chipped back and putted for a double bogey, but the blonde tapped in the five-footer for a birdie.

We all congratulated her on her fine game. "Thanks", she said, "but I really haven't played much lately, I'm a little rusty".

Having the honours, she drove first on the second hole and knocked the hell out of the ball, landing it nearly 300 yards away, and smack in the middle of the fairway. For the rest of the round the girl continued to amaze us, quietly and methodically shooting for par or less on every hole.

When we got to the 18th green, the blonde was three under par, but had a very nasty 12-foot putt on an undulating green for a par.


She turned to us and said:- "I really want to thank you all for not acting like a bunch of chauvinists and telling me what club to use or how to play a shot, but I need this putt for a 69 and I'd really like to break 70 on this course. If any one of you can tell me how to make par on this hole, I'll take him back to my apartment, pour some 25-year old Jameson's in him, fix him dinner and then have sex with him the rest of the night."

I jumped at the thought, carefully eyed the line of the putt and said: - "Honey, aim about 6 inches to the right of the hole and hit it firm. It will get over that little hump and break right into the cup."

Dad knelt down, sighted the putt using his putter as a plumb. "Don't listen to the kid. You want to hit it softly 10 inches to the right and run it left down that little hogback, so it falls into the cup."

Old grandad walked over to the blonde's ball on the green, picked it up and handed it to her. "That's a gimme, sweetheart. Your car or mine?"

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