Puente Tries His Hand at Golf
(And learns in the process that his handicap also serves as comic relief for his fellow players)
It was October 3, 1994. Somebody says, "Hey, let's go golfing!" And for some reason I say, "Sure!" My previous experiences involving clubs and balls was at the put-put course down the road from Corry Station in Pensacola. It was now time to move on. I can't wade in the shallow end of life forever, I thought (or might have thought... I'm not really sure.). I'm going to learn how to golf... for real this time. And I'm going to do it in Central America! How many people can say they learned to golf in Central America? I bet even the best professional golfers in the world can't say that. But I can! Tiger Woods, eat your heart out! (I know, nobody so much as heard of Tiger Woods in October of '94 but it's my page so bite me!)
"Alright, guys, I'm the designated driver!"
|
"Why's this green so brown?"
|
Coolers like these were at every hole.
They had to be... There's nothing more embarrassing
to a golf course manager than a history of players
passing out because of dehydration.
|
"Dave, please! Put that thing away!"
|
 "Nice form, Joe. This is golf, not softball!"
|
"I saw Bob Hope do this once."
|
I thought the picture below would just be a family of ducks swimming across the water hazard...
but it looks like Dad wanted to get into the shot as well. ;-]
"Hey batta, batta, batta..."
|
