New Golf Rules

Rule 1.a.5: A ball sliced or hooked into the rough shall be lifted and placed on the fairway at a point equal to the distance it carried or rolled into the rough with no penalty. The golfer should not be penalized for tall grass which green keepers failed to mow.

Rule 2. d .6 (B): A ball hitting a tree shall be deemed not to have hit the tree. This is simply bad luck and luck has no place in a scientific game. The player must estimate the distance the ball would have traveled if it had not hit the tree and play the ball from there.

Rule 3.B.3(G): There shall be no such thing as a lost ball. The missing ball is on or near the course and will eventually be found and pocketed by someone else, making it a stolen ball. The player is not to compound the felony by charging himself or herself with a penalty.

Rule 4. c .7(h): If a putt passes over a hole without dropping, it is deemed to have dropped. The law of gravity supersedes the Rules of Golf.

Rule 5: Putts that stop close enough to the cup that they could be blown in, may be blown in. This does not apply to balls more than three inches from the hole. No one wants to make a travesty of the game.

Rule 6.a.9(k): There is no penalty for so-called ‘out of bounds’. If penny-pinching golf course owners bought sufficient land, this would not occur. The golfer deserves an apology, not a penalty.

Rule 7..G.15(z): There is no penalty for a ball in a water hazard, as golf balls should float. Golfers should not be penalized for manufacturers’ shortcomings.

Rule 8. k .9(S): Advertisements claim that golf scores can be improved by purchasing new golf equipment. Since this is financially impractical for many golfers, one-half stroke per hole may be subtracted for using old equipment.

Tiger Woods and Stevie Wonder in a Bar

Tiger Woods & Stevie Wonder are in a bar.

Tiger turns to Stevie and says, ‘How’s the singing career going?’

Stevie replies, ‘Not too bad. How’s the golf?’

Woods replies, ‘Not too bad, I’ve had some problems with my swing, but I think I’ve got that right, now.’

Stevie says, ‘I always find that when my swing goes wrong, I need to stop playing for a while and not think about it. Then, the next time I play, it seems to be all right.’

Incredulous, Tiger says, ‘You play GOLF?’

Stevie says, ‘Yes, I’ve been playing for years.’

Tiger says, ‘But — you’re blind! How can you play golf if you can’t see?’

Stevie Wonder replies, ‘Well, I get my caddy to stand in the middle of the fairway and call to me. I listen for the sound of his voice and play the ball towards him. Then, when I get to where the ball lands, the caddy moves to the green or farther down the fairway and again I play the ball towards his voice.’

But, ‘how do you putt’ asks Tiger.

‘Well’, says Stevie, ‘I get my caddy to lean down in front of the hole and call to me with his head on the ground and I just play the ball toward his voice.’

Tiger asks, ‘What’s your handi cap?’

Stevie says, ‘Well, actually — I’m a scratch golfer.’

Woods, incredulous, says to Stevie, ‘We’ve got to play a round sometime.’

Stevie replies, ‘Well, people don’t take me seriously, so I only play for money, and never play for less than $10,000 a hole. Is that a problem?’

Woods thinks about it and says, ‘I can afford that; OK, I’m game for that.. $10,000 a hole is fine with me. When would you like to play?’

Stevie Wonder says, ‘Pick a night.’

Golf poem

Golf Poem.
In My Hand I Hold A Ball,
White And Dimpled, And Rather Small.
Oh How Bland It Does Appear,
This Harmless Looking Little Sphere.
By Its Size I Could Not Guess,
Of The Awesome Strength It Does Possess.
But Since I Fell Beneath Its Spell,
I’ve Wandered Through The Fires Of Hell.
My Life Has Not Been Quite The Same,
Since I Chose To Play This Stupid Game.
It Rules My Mind For Hours On End,
A Fortune It Has Made Me Spend.
It Has Made Me Curse And Made Me Cry,
And Hate Myself And Want To Die.
It Promises Me A Thing Called Par,
If I Hit It Straight And Far.
To Master Such A Tiny Ball,
Should Not Be Very Hard At All.
But My Desires The Ball Refuses,
And Does Exactly As It Chooses.
It Hooks And Slices, Dribbles And Dies,
And Disappears Before My Eyes.
Often It Will Have A Whim,
To Hit A Tree Or Take A Swim.
With Miles Of Grass On Which To Land,
It Finds A Tiny Patch Of Sand.
Then Has Me Offering Up My Soul,
If Only It Would Find The Hole.
It’s Made Me Whimper Like A Pup,
And Swear That I Will Give It Up.
And Take To Drink To Ease My Sorrow,
But The Ball Knows … I’ll Be Back Tomorrow.

Stand proud you noble swingers of club and losers of balls
A recent study found the average golfer walks about 900 miles a year.
Another study found golfers drink, on average, 22 gallons of alcohol a year.
That means, on average, golfers get about 41 miles to the gallon.
Kind of makes you proud. Almost feels like a hybrid.