Sunday after Thanksgiving I went to the golf course as I have done for over twenty years, usually playing with the same few guys. That day I knew one would not be there because he called and said he had hurt his back in a fall on Saturday. Another called in the morning before I left home. He had a sore shoulder. I knew other friends had a tee-time right after ours, so I thought I could find someone to play with. Two guys I did not know started their round soon after I arrived at 8:30 AM. No one else showed up, no one I knew or any stranger.
At home before our regular club play on Tuesday, I wrote a poem for my friends.
My Golf on Sunday, November 27, 2016 by Mike Bove
I see it rained a bit Saturday night.
It is Sunday now and golf, I might.
Who am I kidding?
Golf today? Damn right!
The grass is only damp, not dry as a bone.
Perfect conditions I dare say.
So, why, dear Julie, am I all alone?
Why did all my friends stay away?
They didn't show. They didn't even phone.
Could be Thanksgiving guests overstayed their welcome,
Mine have gone and left me here lonesome.
Can't be the weather. It's cold, but my fingers aren't numb.
Maybe playing golf at 50 degrees is dumb?
I'll go out myself, I've waited long enough.
Without distractions I'll stay out of the rough.
There will be bad shots, there always are.
But I'll write on the card only the good stuff.
OK, I lost a ball on the hill on number one.
On number two I lost a ball in the sun.
My drive on number three hit Gene's back door.
I got a hole-in-one on number four.
I would have bought you all a Coke or a beer.
Too bad, you bastards, maybe next year.
The following is also a true story
Bobcat Took My Ball by Mike Bove 12/06/2016
Tuesday Men's League on hole number two
A magic swing came out of the blue.
I thought Wow this could be a good day
When my tee shot landed in the fairway.
Look, a bobcat, someone said excitedly.
I saw it, a young one walking cautiously
And that wasn't all,
It approached my ball.
A second cat followed behind
To see what the first did find.
It was my ball Cat A was smelling.
Cat B ran when I started yelling.
Because Cat A had my ball in mouth
I yelled in fear my game go south.
Not wanting that lucky ball to go,
For I had hit one good shot in a row.
Both cats went back to from where they came.
I guess stealing golf balls was their game.
We carted up to the scene of the crime,
and looked into the wash for a short time.
No cat or ball to be seen or found,
I dropped another Titleist onto the ground.
One hundred thirty yards left to the green,
A nine-iron's there if I hit it clean.
I did not assess a penalty
Because the foursome did agree.
We saw the robber take the first ball
And at the correct spot the second did fall.
I was confident the decision was right
But searched the rule book into the night.
I emailed my story to the USGA
And waited to hear what they would say.
Just as my search gave me no solution
Their reply gave me no absolution.
So I emailed the USGA again
And this answer came from a guy named Ben.
Ben said since I witnessed the thieving cat
And was certain of the spot the Titleist sat,
A drop with no penalty is the correct ruling,
Unless, of course, you are April fooling.