Many years ago now, I was playing a casual off-season round with one of my teammates the summer after my freshman year of high school. On the 12th hole, a long par 5 (long for me, anyway), I crushed a driver and a 3W back to back to reach the green in two. First, a couple of important details:
1) I was playing with my Dad's clubs, including a putter that he bought for $0.50 out of a used club barrel when he was in high school. It was 35+ years old then, and to this day, it's actually the best putter I've ever used. It was a special club. Think "Billy" in Caddyshack.
2) The green on this particular hole sat beside a lake fed by a stream, with a little footbridge leading over it to the 13th tee.
I had a 25 footer for my eagle, which I smugly glanced at while I watched my buddy chip in from the fringe for birdie. I then proceeded to five (!) putt for a double, which gave my friend ample time to walk over to the footbridge as I grew increasingly agitated, profane and out of control.
When the ball finally limped apologetically into the cup, I blasphemed loudly and hucked the putter back over my shoulder, in what I thought was the general direction of my bag and the footbridge. I heard the following: boing, boing, sploosh, peals of laughter. I turned to see my buddy on his knees laughing, and pointing to the edge of the water.
It's a happy enough ending - I was lucky enough to retrieve it using two other clubs like really long, awkward tweezers, and I considered it a small miracle that no one was at my house when I got home, meaning that I wouldn't have to explain my algae-covered shirt.
The putter was fine, but that was definitely my worst accident.
-- Dave