I took out my 3 wood and put a new stick in my golf bag. It’s not a golf club, though. It’s a golf ball retriever by Callaway. I decided to order one after a near-death experience at Greene Hills.
We were on Hole 13, a long (for me) Par 3. I needed all the help I could get, so I pulled out my last new Chrome Soft golf ball that my son Jimmie had given me for Christmas. Then I proceeded to knock it in the creek beside the green. The creek wasn’t very wide, maybe two feet, but there was a steep bank along the creek bed. I told my cart-mate, Byron Mehlhaff, that I wanted to look for the ball, just in case. And I saw it, a little green sphere bouncing along the bottom, heading downstream. I couldn’t get to the ball because of the steep bank, but downstream a bit, there was one place where I might be able to stretch out and snatch the ball as it bobbed past. I waited on my belly for the ball to make it downstream and it did. Then I leaned down as far as I could and grabbed it.
When I tried to push myself back up, the bank began to cave in. I was sliding into the creek. I called for help and Byron came over, wondering, no doubt, how one golf ball could get his partner into such a predicament.
“You’ve got to pull me out,” I said. “The bank is giving way and I’m soon going to be in deep doo-doo.”
So, Byron grabbed me by the golf shoes, pulled with all his might and drug me back to safety. My golf glove was ruined, my white Greg Norman shirt was mud-stained, but – by God – I had saved my new Chrome Soft golf ball.
The next morning I ordered the golf ball retriever. I think you can understand why.