I lost my rag as a junior and wrapped a 8 iron around a tree.
At the time it seemed to appease my anger just long enough for it to dawn on me that I would have to explain this to my mum and some how try to convince her that she needed to buy me a new one.
Another one for you.
Every now and then one of my friends will have a birthday on the golf course, so all my mates will come and play - even the ones that dont play. So we pick a course far away and have some fun.
On one of the holes the group in front (birthday boys dad) was walking off the green, when all of a sudden this ball comes flying over the top of myself and a friend. We hear a cry of FORE! But this ball doesnt care, its locked on target, this ball homed in on the back of this guys head (now this is only a funny story because no one was hurt bad - he was fine a day or so after), he went down like Charlie Sheen in Platoon.
Now myself and a mate have seen this and as soon as it hits him we look at each other - and you know when you are not supposed to laugh (at church, at a funeral, at an important event etc) and you just cant control it? First our shoulders started to shake, then we went red, tears came from our eyes, then once he stood up we couldnt hold it back any more, we roared with laughter. By this point everyone was laughing apart from the guy with titleist imprinted on the back of his head.
:laugh: Good story!
In the younger days I used to throw my clubs and say all sorts of bad things when I got mad at the game. I remember two clearly. On a tee box about halfway through my round and I had just hit a bad drive. Being young and losing my temper easy I slammed my driver head on the ground and said some colorful things and that was that.....until the next hole. Next hole I was on the box and since my club had a graphite shaft, i guess when I slammed it the hole before I had broken it or cracked it or whatever, I started into my backswing and off snapped the head of my club and went shooting backwards, and nearly taking out one of my playing partners. My dad and I were paired with a couple of golfers we didnt know and it was really embarrasing. The other is miss hitting a green side chip shot, and starting to walk towards the green to hit the next shot and getting mad. I threw my pitching wedge what was 'supposed to be' just 'over' by the cart and instead I wrapped it around one of those alumminum poles on the cart. Of course this snapped the iron right in two. Had a couple close calls with flying golf balls, but nothing serious yet.
The worst golf accident I ever saw involved some egomaniac speeding around on his golf cart. He was chatting with the person next to him and driving off the designated path and he actually hit an older golfer who was walking. Luckily the guy was alright.
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.
Lol, when I first tried out, I didn't know what I was doing. I had got the clubs from my dad because he thought I knew how to play golf. I had a golf ball, a tee and a field so I could practice. I tried whacking the ball, I whacked my foot. I tried again, it flew out of my hands!! I almost hit someone with it! The good times.
lol nice golfboy, my worst would probably have to be when I hit my friend in the back of the head, I was practicing my chipping and he walked right beside the green and whack right in the head. I also broke my sandwedge on a tree I got so angry.
In JJb sports and i was testing out some irons when i was about 6 (was not interested in golf then but liek the thought of smaking the ball) anyway, in the shop they had this little putting green and a few pratice balls to test putters with etc but i got out a 3 iron if i remember correctly. I went to swing back (REALLY REALLY fast) and someone was behind me ... It was like something out of dawn of the dead when i looked around bloody everywhere, well me and my brother dropped the club, said sorry, and legged it upstairs and hid behind some bikes. Whatever posessed him to stand behind me ive no idea but then my brother said, it was on a putting green ...
My Dad once didn't set the prking brake on a cart quite as well as he should have. It snapped loose and the cart rolled into a lake. Only the front wheels were actually below water and they had no problem driving it out and continuing their round, but people loved to tease him about it. The story eventually grew to the point that people told it who never knew Dad. It became part of the lore of the club and by now, 40 years later, I'm sure it's probably grown to the point where someone drowned.
In my case, when I was much younger, I would buy old clubs at garage sales and try to refinish them. I had a set of Tourney Customs, (still have them actually), and I had just finished applying a good coat of lacquer to them. They looked absolutely gorgeous. All of a sudden I realized my wife had left the house, locked all the doors and I was stuck in the garage. Stupidly, when I opened the garage door to get out, I didn't think to lower it since I had nowhere else to go until she returned. Having left it open, all manner of dust and bugs wound up decorating my beautiful refinishing job.
I then made the mistake of using them once before beginning the refinishing. I took off the clubhead cover on the first tee and a buddy grabbed the driver to see how well it had turned out, at which point my Tourney Custom was dubbed Tourney Crusted. I never understood why I let myself in for something like that.
I tried to hit an 8 iron shot from under a tree and on my follow through I smacked the shaft of the club right where it meets the head against a branch. When I brought the club back down and looked at it the head fell right off...I still have the broken club lying around here somewhere...