So I went to see Jones, the golf pro at the local golf club, to ask him if he would teach me how to play golf.
He said, “Sure, you’ve got balls, haven’t you?”
I said, “Yes, I certainly have, but sometimes on cold mornings they’re kinda hard to find.”
“Bring them to the clubhouse tomorrow,” he said, “And we will tee off.”
“What’s tee off?” I asked.
He said, “It’s a golf term and we have to tee off in front of the clubhouse.”
“Not for me”, I said, “You can tee off if you want to but I’ll tee off behind the barn, somewhere.”
“No, no, a tee is a fine thing, about the size of your little finger.”
“Yeah, I”ve got one of those.”
“Well,” he said, “you stick it in the ground and put your ball on top of it.”
I asked, “Do you play golf sitting down? I always thought that you stood up and waddled around.”
“You do,” he said, “You’re standing up when you put your ball on the tee.”
Well, folks, I thought that was stretching things a little too far and I said so.
Then he asked me if I knew how to hold my club.
Well, after fifty years, I should have some sort of an idea and I told him so.
He said, “You take your club in both hands.”
Folks, I know right there and then he didn’t know what he was talking about.
Then he said, “You swing it over your shoulder.”
“No, no, that’s not me, that’s my brother, Big Bernie, you’re thinking about.”
He asked me how I held my club and before I thought I said, “In two fingers.”
He said that wasn’t right and he got behind me and put both arms around me and told me to bend over, because he would show me how.
He couldn’t catch me there, because I didn’t put four years into the Navy for nothing.
He said, “You hit the ball with your club and it will soar and soar.”
I said, “I could well imagine.”
The he said, “And when you’re on the green …”
“What’s the green?” I asked.
“That’s where the hole is,” he said.
“Sure you’re not color blind?” I asked.
“No, then you take your putter …”
“What’s the putter?” I asked.
“That’s the smallest club made”, he said.
That’s what I’ve got, a putter.
“And with it, he continued, “You put your ball in the hole.”
I corrected, “You mean the putter?”
He said, “No, the hole isn’t big enough for the ball and the putter too.”
Well, I’ve seen holes big enough for a horse and wagon.
The he said, “After you make the first hole, you go on to the next seventeen.”
He wasn’t talking to me.
After two holes, I’m shot to hell.
Eighteen holes in one day?
“Hell, no, it takes me eighteen days to make one hole. Besides, how do I know when I’m in the eighteenth hole?”
He said, “The flag will go up.”