GOLF­ING GODS UP TO MIS­CHIEF AT MOW­BRAY

Golf Digest (South Africa) - - The Gallery -

Ihave a story to re­late which your read­ers might find amus­ing or sad. This is a cau­tion­ary tale. Play­ing golf at Mow­bray in Cape Town, as I do twice a week with my regular group of friends, I teed off on the par-3 fourth hole, and struck the ball out of the mid­dle of the club. It soared to­wards the pin, hid­den away be­hind the left-hand bunker. “It’s in the hole,” cried my play­ing part­ners, although none of us could see where the ball had fin­ished. It had dis­ap­peared from view. My heart flut­tered alarm­ingly at all the ex­cite­ment around me – I am a man of ad­vanc­ing age, and had never had a hole-in-one in my long golf­ing life, so you can imag­ine how I felt.

Walk­ing on to the green there was not a ball to be seen – those of my play­ing part­ners were scat­tered around the coun­try­side – and my heart beat faster. I ap­proached the hole ner­vously, and there it was; a golf ball so beau­ti­ful to be­hold. I stood there for a mo­ment, dumb­founded. Af­ter all th­ese years it had fi­nally hap­pened. The oth­ers were con­grat­u­lat­ing me. “That’s a five-pointer!” We were play­ing an al­liance com­pe­ti­tion.

It was only then that I no­ticed how rather odd the ball looked, un­like any­thing I used. I picked it out of the hole and saw that it wasn’t mine. How could that be pos­si­ble? “You must have changed your ball on the tee,” sug­gested one of my part­ners. But it wasn’t mine. I was sure of that. We looked for it, but it was nowhere to be found. I was com­pletely non­plussed and shat­tered.

Ev­ery­one calmed down, and with great dis­ap­point­ment I took a ringed five on the hole. The mys­tery was soon to be re­vealed though. Play­ing the next hole, our friends in front of us asked whether we had found an un­ex­pected present on the fourth. They were the cul­prits. One of them had found a ball, and dropped it into the hole as a prank as they were leav­ing the green, lit­tle re­al­is­ing what his ac­tion would pre­cip­i­tate. How was he to know that I would hit such an amaz­ing shot; I can still pic­ture that ball fly­ing to­wards the pin. The golf­ing gods are in­deed truly mis­chievous.

PS: The b …… didn’t even ring the bell af­ter­wards and buy us all a round.

Anony­mous, Cape Town

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