The good doctor tells a story about golfing like only Ol’ Doc can
Ol’ Doc Stephenson dropped by the other day. He wanted to tell me about a round of golf he played recently. As many of you already know, the only thing Ol’ Doc likes as much as playing golf is geography. He spends hours scanning his road atlas looking for oddly named metropolises.
When he came by, he used his two loves to tell the following story. Here it is as only Ol’ Doc can tell it.
I wanted to play golf early this spring and even though it was a Cloudy (OK) day with a Snowflake (AZ) or two in the air, I was determined to hit the links. Despite the Starkweather (ND) that convinced me I was not in the Sunny South (AL), the course was open and there was no shortage of players.
In fact, when I asked if there was an available tee time, I was told that indeed there was one spot, but I would have to share it with a man that was on his way to the course. “No problem,” I thought. Perhaps a new Friendship (IN) would be in the offing. Then he showed up.
My goodness, the man was riding a Cushman (MA) motor scooter and wearing a Fedora (SD) for crying out loud. Who wears that kind of hat? He was late and we would have to start Shortly (DE).
To be nice, I introduced myself and he said “Hilo (HI)” (pretty ironic huh). Seriously, who says hee-low as a greeting? The man suggested that he was late because he had to wait on his Melba (ID) toast at a restaurant. Now I’m thinking the guy is a bit daffy. Who orders Melba toast? White, wheat or Rye (NY) is common and I must admit I’m Fonda (IA) Sourdough (AK) bread. But the only Melba I know or care about is Peach Melba and Melba Moore.
It was plain that Ol’Doc did not run in the same Social Circle (GA) that fedora man did. The Prospect (TN) of having to Startup (WA) a round of golf with his Lordship (CT) was daunting. It was Nottoway (VA) to begin an Outing (MN), and it only got worse.
As we went to the first tee, fedora man suggested that he was going to Knockemstiff (OH) and Drain (OR) every putt. He was Baring (MO) his soul and not showing a lot of Wisdom (MT) in my opinion. I would Hazard (NE) a guess that he felt a Monument (NM) should be built in his honor. I finally came to the conclusion that the guy was an Athol (MD), if you know what I mean.
At this point, I asked Ol’ Doc if the guy could possibly be as bad as he was suggesting. Otay (CA), Doc said, Maybee (MI) not, but did I tell you that he played a Blue Ball (PA) that seemed to have been swiped from a putt-putt course?
Well he did. It was a Noodle (TX), but still it was blue.
Apparently the color of the ball was important, because on his first shot he Shanks (WV) it well off the fairway. To my great Relief (KY) it was one of Many (LA) such shots he hit in that Marathon (FL) round of golf. His Ledger (NC) was filled with duck hooks into Goose Creek (SC).
Fedora man talked over, Andover (VT) and over again. The only saving grace was that Halfway (WY) through the round he recited a Limerick (ME) that was quite funny. I could recite it if you
“Hang on Ol’ Doc,” I interrupted. “This is a family newspaper. By the way Doc, how did you play? Were there any birdies on your scorecard?”
Well let’s just say that it was hard to concentrate on golf playing with fedora man. I do remember one hole though. It had Two Creeks (WI) and Three Bridges (NJ) which is ironic since I hit four shots into the water. The closest I came to a birdie was when I hit a shot slightly Askew (MS) and nearly decapitated a Red Wing (CO) blackbird sitting in a tree.
I hit so many shots so far off line that one would have been required to have a Passport (IL) to go look for them. As the day faded into the Evening Shade (AR) a Searchlight (NV) wouldn’t have helped to locate them.
Let it be known that Ol’ Doc played awful, but then again so did fedora man.
So there you have it folks Ol’ Doc’s geographic twist on a golf tale. In addition, he has given you the opportunity to play a game. You can look up all the towns to see if they actually exist, and you can try to find the states that he didn’t include in the above narrative.
If you choose to do either of the above, I will assume that you would actually enjoy meeting fedora man.
Al Stephenson is The Advertiser-Tribune’s golf columnist.
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