Yesterday I shared a golf in the rain story. It was on New Year's Day about eight years ago. The weather was raining from the get go and many that were signed up asked several times if the tournament would be canceled because of the rain. he said no and told us to have another of the free breakfast burritos. The tournament was a go. I was the only one in the room that was not suffering from an intense hangover from the night before, so I pondered my sober sanity as to me playing in the thing. Most of the other players had an excuse as they were suffering from their hangovers or were still fairly plastered and pickled from the night before. We played and the rain came down in buckets-- and the wind blew hard. But you know that story because I told it yesterday.
Let me share my second most favorite me playing golf in the rain story. I have a friend--a retired policeman-- who used to live where I live and we used to play a lot of golf together. He has since moved away to Las Vegas. Whenever he comes to town we still hook up and play golf when we can. A couple of years ago he came to town and wanted to play, but the only problem was that he could only play on a Sunday. I go to church on Sunday and very rarely skip. On this occasion, after some rather heavy lobbying by him and another good friend I haven't played with for a long time I relented. I agreed to skip church and play, but only this one time. I also said in jest, I hope it doesn't make God mad. We all kind of laughed that comment off, ha ha.
I know that the phrase "It was a warm and sunny day" is a bit cliche, but it was a warm and sunny October day, except for a very small cloud off to the Southeast. It had rained the day before and the air was warm but fresh and clean. Our tee time was set for ten o'clock. Conditions on the course couldn't have been any better as we arrived at the course and went in the coffee shop for coffee before our round. That little cloud was still small, but seemed to be growing. I told the guys, "I see that cloud over there and I don't know how happy God is that I am playing on Sunday." They laughed.
We went to the first tee and began our round. The drive were certainly picturesque as they soared into the blue. My drive went deep down the middle, but my friend's ball hit a rock and flew majestically out of bounds. Was this an omen of things to come? That little cloud grew a little bit bigger. I took a seven on that par four and my friend took an eight.
We teed off on two without incident. It was a par three and I actually pared it. Three's tee shot was uneventful, but the little crowd grew a bit bigger and seemed to have invited some friends along for the journey. It was just a little bit darker, but there was no sign of any liquid sunshine. There was a bit of concern among the three of us undaunted golf warriors, but the consensus was that the weather would hold. On to the fourth hole.
I love that fourth hole on the course we played. It is an extreme downhill par four where you tee off from the top of a hill and the green is in a sort of valley below. It really sets up to the eye quite nicely. All three of us hit a very nice tee shot, long and down the middle. That's the good news. The bad news is that we felt a few drops of rain. Hope springs eternal, you know. We thought that it was just a few drops of a passing shower and that this too shall pass.
It didn't. Those few drops of sprinkles began to pick up. Soon instead of a sprinkle, it became a full out rain, and then a biblical torrent. Off in the distance we heard a muffled rumble, and then it was a faint flash and then a rumble. It was really raining now. What should we do? Hey, we are Californians and we rarely get this kind of stuff.
It was really coming down now. We sought refuge in a tunnel between the fifth and sixth hole that goes under a road. The culvert is made by a metal piece of conduit pipe and at least it was dry in there. We heard a weird kind of sound I have never heard on a California golf course before. It was an air horn. Who was blowing the air horn and why? I don't know where they even found an air horn to blow. At any rate, we thought we were safe where we were in the metal culvert--remember, I said metal.
The marshal comes out as he was clearing the course of golfers. It was strongly suggested to us that we divert our snug little metal culvert and come into the safety of the clubhouse. He told us that the storm was coming right over us and that it was going to get ugly. We didn't doubt him as the thunder, lightning and rain was picking up to almost Biblical proportions. We thought we were safe until the marshal pointed out the construction of the culvert. He suggested--not very gently I might add, questioning our sanity and manliness--that we calmly move to the clubhouse or face certain death by electrocution. We, the three of us being fairly collected of our facilities and one of our foursome being a retired policeman, decided to comply and go directly to the clubhouse. I couldn't believe how much rain, thunder and lightning that little cloud and its friend produced that day.
We got to the clubhouse. Of course I just had to say it. "See, I told you that God would get mad at me for playing golf on Sunday." The storm did past and the sky cleared up. We got to finish our round that day. I wonder if God really was angry at us for me playing on Sunday?
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| The course in calmer days. |
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