One For The Nineteenth
It was a sunny Friday morning on the first hole of a busy course and I was beginning my pre-shot routine, visualising my upcoming shot, when a piercing voice came over the clubhouse loudspeaker.
"Would the gentleman on the women's tee back up to the men's tee please?
I could feel every eye on the course looking at me. I was still deep in my routine seemingly impervious to the interruption. Again the announcement, "would the man on the WOMEN'S tee kindly back up to the MEN'S tee.
I simply ignored the announcement and kept concentrating , when once more, the man yelled: "Would the MAN on the WOMEN'S tee back up to the MEN'S tee, PLEASE?
Finally, I stopped, turned and looked through the clubhouse window directly at the person with the mic.
I cupped my hands and shouted back, "Would the pratt in the clubhouse kindly shut the f*ck up and let me play my second shot?"