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The GrunkleGuru

Grunkle is a slang term for the thick rough on a golf course that I have been using for many years. Given my penchant for inaccurate tee balls, I have become a bit of a guru out of the thick stuff, hence the name. This is a site for my random thoughts about sports (espeically golf) and life in general. While nothing special, it will hopefully offer a break from the daily drudgery for both you and me.

January 10, 2006

Rule of the Week - Doh! A Deer

As 2006 gets started, the Grunkle Guru harkens back to his days of youth for the latest installment of The Rule of the Week.

It was a beautiful day for golf. September in New England usually is. The round was going well for all involved. This was a friendly game where the winner was more concerned about bragging rights and a drink at the end of the round then he was with collecting money.

Standing on the 17th green you truly felt like you were communing with nature. The green was elevated, so you had a view over the valley below. There was a light breeze that moved the colorful leaves in a way that made it look like fire was all around you, but the crispness in the air provided a feeling of safety. Nothing could ruin this day.

As I stood over a long par putt I contemplated all the factors that would influence the putt. “Downhill, left to right at the end, about 65 feet” I thought to myself going through my routine. “Don’t forget that this green is exposed more then the others so it should roll a little faster then the others.”

Three practice strokes later I was standing over the ball, and settling my nerves for a confident stroke. As I struck the putt, I got what can only be described as that “Old Time Feeling”. The minute you hit a shot or a putt you know it is going to be good. Nothing can stop it from going to its intended location in this case, the hole.

As I watch the putt track I hear a rustle in the woods behind me. As I turn to look, a blur shoots from the woods and across the green. It is a deer, and a beautiful one at that. The majesty with which he carries himself is truly awe-inspiring. I am comforted by the moment until I realize that this freakin’ animal has hit my putt with his hoof.

“Son of a bitch!” I scream, “That putt was dead center! I can’t believe this!”

As my friends get over their fits of laughter, one of them says, “Don’t worry, you get to replay the shot with no penalty.”

“Oh yeah,” I said, “I forgot about rule 19-1b.”

So I go through my routine again, but this time with limitless distractions in my head. Needless to say I three-putted.

Man, I hate deer.


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