(no subject)
Yea, so like here is a story I wrote a couple of years ago. I had to write it for a creative writing assignment, and it IS a true story, as crazy as it seems. Anyways, I just retyped it because I may be able to use it as an essay on some on my college applications lol. I added some stuff that I thought made it better. But anyways, I just thought I'd share. It is probably full of typos and bad sentence structure (lol) since I haven't looked it over yet.
In all my years of playing golf I have come across some pretty wild things. My father almost killed my uncle when his golf cart hit a speed bump, resulting in my uncle’s sailing out of his seat down a cliff. On another occurrence my dad almost killed himself when a wheel came off his cart and he went flying down the same cliff. But nothing has ever really happened to me. Well, there was that one time I had to use a garbage bag for a jacket because it was raining. And there was that other time I sent a golf ball hurling at the club house windows. Okay, so I actually did that two times. But nothing will ever beat the time when my life was endangered by…a goose?
About three or four years ago, my friend Geoffrey had invited me for a lovely, quiet round of golf at the Robert Trent Jones Golf Course in Opelika, Alabama. I accepted the invitation with hesitancy due to the fact that I knew how big of a pain Geoffrey’s dad can be while playing golf. He will spend the whole time doling out useless information that really doesn’t benefit anyone. However, I would soon learn the hard way that not everything he said was so useless.
I accepted the invitation regardless, mainly because I get a good laugh at watching Geoffrey’s father take the game so seriously. He really expects Geoffrey to play really well, and if Geoffrey doesn’t, well, his dad gives him the silent treatment. So our golf date arrives, and the round actually doesn’t go too bad, if I don’t stop to think about all the balls I lost or the fact that I had to walk several holes in the pouring rain. Okay, so my game was subpar that day (pun intended), but nothing would measure up to what we were about to face on hole number fourteen…
We approached the tee box on hole fourteen with less zeal than on previous holes. We were soaking wet, and our scores weren’t so hot either. If I do remember correctly, I was the first to tee off. As I teed up my ball, I had no clue of what was about to happen. I began my pre-shot ritual, which usually includes pretending that I know what I’m doing and a quick prayer. Then, I hit the ball. The hit sounded good, but my vision contradicted what I heard. I stood there helplessly as my ball slowly soared into the marshy lake. “Darn,” I remember saying. “At least it’s on the edge of the lake so maybe I can salvage my ball.” Or so I thought. I do not remember where Geoffrey’s shot went, but then again it doesn’t really matter because it doesn’t contribute to the plot of this story whatsoever.
As we went to look for our balls, Geoffrey’s dad began to say that I should be careful while looking for my ball. I curiously asked why and he went on to explain that there was a goose nest over near the lake’s edge. “Big whoop,” I thought to myself. “What harm can a little old goose do?” Ignoring Geoffrey’s dad’s “wise” advice and with Geoffrey assisting me, I pursued my trek to find my beloved golf ball. As I neared the edge of the lake, I heard a slight noise in the marsh. The sound appeared to be that of a snake making a hissing noise, and then suddenly a huge, white, fanged goose came running out of the bushes. Geoffrey, being the dependent friend that he is, took off in a flash, leaving me there to defend myself against the rabid, obviously angry, goose.
So there I was, defenseless against this huge bird…with pointed teeth. Obviously, the bird thought I was looking for her eggs, while in reality all I wanted was my little golf ball. However, I wasn’t totally defenseless. After all, I did have a golf club with me. But I had seen how bad my hitting had been all day and doubted that I could hit the broad side of a barn with a beach ball, much less a flying goose…with pointed teeth, in case you forgot. Therefore, I did the thing that came most instinctively to me, the thing that any great hero would do in a situation like this. I ran. I ran hard. Normally, an animal would have been satisfied knowing that is scared off its predator, but not this bird. It wanted me dead. I could tell from the look in it’s eyes. I had seen that look before. I had seen that exact same look on my mother’s face when I had gotten in her way of the food pantry one time. But anyways, I digress. I thought about stopping and trying to hit the bird, but I was scared that if I stopped I was a goner. So I just kept running, and I couldn’t help but think as I ran how ridiculous my obituary would read in the paper if I was killed by a goose. I ran straight towards Geoffrey, hoping that I could make a beeline to the golf cart. I managed to make it back to the cart in one piece. But, unfortunately for Geoffrey, the goose decided if he couldn’t have me, he would get him. So the goose chased after Geoffrey while I stood and watched in amusement. Geoffrey ran around for about a minute or so before he finally managed to escape the wrath of the goose. I helped him get into the cart, and we made a hasty getaway. As we drove on to the next hole (we decided to just skip that hole altogether), Geoffrey’s dad turned to us and said, “I told you not to mess with the goose.”
I obviously learned my lesson from what happened on that fateful day. For one thing, I learned that Geoffrey’s dad isn’t as clueless as I thought. Secondly, I learned never to go back to that golf course, and four years later, I can say that I haven’t. So let me give you some advice in case you ever get into the same predicament I have described to you. If you are ever invited to play golf with a friend, inquire about any wild, rabid animals that may have habitats on the golf course. Take plenty of golf balls; therefore, if you lose any, you won’t have to venture into unsafe places in order to find them. Never, under any circumstances, underestimate the goose. We, as a people, have been misled about the nature of geese. After all, how could I have suspected that goose to be so violent after growing up with one of my biggest idols being that of Mother Goose? You may also want to consider buying a small pistol to keep in your golf bag. The whole problem would have been over in seconds if I had had a pistol. And finally, but definitely not least, listen to your friend’s annoying dad. He may at times not make sense, but occasionally, he will come up with something that will be of use to you in the future. Oh, and in case you were wondering, I never found my ball.
In all my years of playing golf I have come across some pretty wild things. My father almost killed my uncle when his golf cart hit a speed bump, resulting in my uncle’s sailing out of his seat down a cliff. On another occurrence my dad almost killed himself when a wheel came off his cart and he went flying down the same cliff. But nothing has ever really happened to me. Well, there was that one time I had to use a garbage bag for a jacket because it was raining. And there was that other time I sent a golf ball hurling at the club house windows. Okay, so I actually did that two times. But nothing will ever beat the time when my life was endangered by…a goose?
About three or four years ago, my friend Geoffrey had invited me for a lovely, quiet round of golf at the Robert Trent Jones Golf Course in Opelika, Alabama. I accepted the invitation with hesitancy due to the fact that I knew how big of a pain Geoffrey’s dad can be while playing golf. He will spend the whole time doling out useless information that really doesn’t benefit anyone. However, I would soon learn the hard way that not everything he said was so useless.
I accepted the invitation regardless, mainly because I get a good laugh at watching Geoffrey’s father take the game so seriously. He really expects Geoffrey to play really well, and if Geoffrey doesn’t, well, his dad gives him the silent treatment. So our golf date arrives, and the round actually doesn’t go too bad, if I don’t stop to think about all the balls I lost or the fact that I had to walk several holes in the pouring rain. Okay, so my game was subpar that day (pun intended), but nothing would measure up to what we were about to face on hole number fourteen…
We approached the tee box on hole fourteen with less zeal than on previous holes. We were soaking wet, and our scores weren’t so hot either. If I do remember correctly, I was the first to tee off. As I teed up my ball, I had no clue of what was about to happen. I began my pre-shot ritual, which usually includes pretending that I know what I’m doing and a quick prayer. Then, I hit the ball. The hit sounded good, but my vision contradicted what I heard. I stood there helplessly as my ball slowly soared into the marshy lake. “Darn,” I remember saying. “At least it’s on the edge of the lake so maybe I can salvage my ball.” Or so I thought. I do not remember where Geoffrey’s shot went, but then again it doesn’t really matter because it doesn’t contribute to the plot of this story whatsoever.
As we went to look for our balls, Geoffrey’s dad began to say that I should be careful while looking for my ball. I curiously asked why and he went on to explain that there was a goose nest over near the lake’s edge. “Big whoop,” I thought to myself. “What harm can a little old goose do?” Ignoring Geoffrey’s dad’s “wise” advice and with Geoffrey assisting me, I pursued my trek to find my beloved golf ball. As I neared the edge of the lake, I heard a slight noise in the marsh. The sound appeared to be that of a snake making a hissing noise, and then suddenly a huge, white, fanged goose came running out of the bushes. Geoffrey, being the dependent friend that he is, took off in a flash, leaving me there to defend myself against the rabid, obviously angry, goose.
So there I was, defenseless against this huge bird…with pointed teeth. Obviously, the bird thought I was looking for her eggs, while in reality all I wanted was my little golf ball. However, I wasn’t totally defenseless. After all, I did have a golf club with me. But I had seen how bad my hitting had been all day and doubted that I could hit the broad side of a barn with a beach ball, much less a flying goose…with pointed teeth, in case you forgot. Therefore, I did the thing that came most instinctively to me, the thing that any great hero would do in a situation like this. I ran. I ran hard. Normally, an animal would have been satisfied knowing that is scared off its predator, but not this bird. It wanted me dead. I could tell from the look in it’s eyes. I had seen that look before. I had seen that exact same look on my mother’s face when I had gotten in her way of the food pantry one time. But anyways, I digress. I thought about stopping and trying to hit the bird, but I was scared that if I stopped I was a goner. So I just kept running, and I couldn’t help but think as I ran how ridiculous my obituary would read in the paper if I was killed by a goose. I ran straight towards Geoffrey, hoping that I could make a beeline to the golf cart. I managed to make it back to the cart in one piece. But, unfortunately for Geoffrey, the goose decided if he couldn’t have me, he would get him. So the goose chased after Geoffrey while I stood and watched in amusement. Geoffrey ran around for about a minute or so before he finally managed to escape the wrath of the goose. I helped him get into the cart, and we made a hasty getaway. As we drove on to the next hole (we decided to just skip that hole altogether), Geoffrey’s dad turned to us and said, “I told you not to mess with the goose.”
I obviously learned my lesson from what happened on that fateful day. For one thing, I learned that Geoffrey’s dad isn’t as clueless as I thought. Secondly, I learned never to go back to that golf course, and four years later, I can say that I haven’t. So let me give you some advice in case you ever get into the same predicament I have described to you. If you are ever invited to play golf with a friend, inquire about any wild, rabid animals that may have habitats on the golf course. Take plenty of golf balls; therefore, if you lose any, you won’t have to venture into unsafe places in order to find them. Never, under any circumstances, underestimate the goose. We, as a people, have been misled about the nature of geese. After all, how could I have suspected that goose to be so violent after growing up with one of my biggest idols being that of Mother Goose? You may also want to consider buying a small pistol to keep in your golf bag. The whole problem would have been over in seconds if I had had a pistol. And finally, but definitely not least, listen to your friend’s annoying dad. He may at times not make sense, but occasionally, he will come up with something that will be of use to you in the future. Oh, and in case you were wondering, I never found my ball.