I did a bad thing last week.
I was on vacation and was playing on a crowded public course. Golfers were stacked up at every tee box, but everyone seemed to be taking it rather well.
Except the foursome behind us. Hole after hole, that group of neanderthals kept hitting into us, even though they clearly could see that we were standing in the middle of the fairway and waiting for the foursome ahead to finish. Glares and angry gestures made no impresion on their primitive brains.
Finally, on a dogleg par four, I had enough. We were just around the corner, out of site of the tee, when, predictably, a ball came bounding around the corner.
I had an evil thought. I picked the ball up, dashed to the green, and put it in the cup. We finished the hole in a hurry and went to the next tee.
From the next tee, I could see the barbarians driving around the fairway looking for the ball. They, of course, ignored the five minute rule, and as we walked on down the next fairway we could see them still searching.
They never caught up to us again.
I’m just sorry I wasn’t there to laugh myself silly when they found the ball and began celebrating the “hole in one.”
So, somewhere out there, there’s a caveman who thinks he got a hole-in-one on a dogleg par four.
He didn’t. But I hope he had to buy a lot of drinks.