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LOVEGOLF thick and lush this particular fairway


This story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real persons is
unintentional and strictly coincidental. If you are below the age of 18,
or 21 depending on your locality, stop reading right now. If your
government prohibits erotic literature, stop reading now and delete this.
If you choose to continue, that is your decision -- and your responsibility
-- not mine. This is intended solely for adults, and any other
rebroadcast, retransmission, and account of the game is strictly prohibited
by the National Hockey League. Wait --The NHL doesn't care --I care. Any
unauthorized redistribution of this is in violation of copyright. I
authorize this to be archived in its entirety, except for a fee.

This is Copyright 1999 by All rights reserved.

I Love Golf

by John A

The grounds keeper let me on the course early, in fact I was the only

one playing. Actually I was the only one who had played this course for

weeks. Despite this, or perhaps because of it, the grounds keeper was

keeping the course in particularly good condition lately. I'd noticed
that the

little things were being done to keep the course in good shape; the

and putting surfaces were carefully trimmed, and the bunkers were raked

meticulously. For my part, I'd always been careful with my play as
well. If

I made a divot, I always replaced it neatly. I made sure that I was

around the green, and I never pressured the grounds keeper to play the

nine first. Actually I hadn't yet gotten around to playing the back
nine. I

found that just playing the front nine of this beautiful course was more

enough for me. And those couple of days when the course was having

drainage problems, I just walked the grounds with the grounds keeper,

pressuring her to play at all.

Of course, I'd played many other types of courses before this one, but

for the past month or so, I'd just played this one exclusively. I

that's why the grounds keeper let me come over early. I just needed to

golf that morning.

I took out my driver, the mighty one wood. Clutching it tightly, I

stood surveying the lush fairway before me. I took a few practice

with my wood, getting myself warmed up. I approached the tee and swung

as mightily as I could, splitting the fairway with my powerful drive.

Looking down the fairway, I could see the result of my first swing

right down the middle. Approaching it again, I got my wood and gripped

firmly, preparing to cleave through the fairway again. I had a great
lye, it

was as if the grass just parted for me.

I noticed how thick and lush this particular fairway was. I loved golf

and I enjoyed playing on fairways that were thick. I had played on all

of courses, long ones and short ones. There were courses that were wide

and ones that were narrow. I liked the somewhat wide courses, I felt
that I

had more leeway with my shots. With a wide course, there was more to

enjoy and explore. I didn't like them too wide, that wasn't enjoyable
to me;

but a course that had character, with nicely curving fairways, that was

I liked. Some narrow courses were enjoyable too; but some of them would

play easily one day, and be unplayable on other days. Not trying to

generalizations, I felt that some narrow courses required too much

maintenance, whereas courses that were a more naturally contoured with

the surrounding land were much more relaxed to play, and more enjoyable

to be around.

One time, I played a course that was totally bare, all dirt. The

grounds keeper one day just removed all the grass. I didn't understand

but the grounds keeper said that the course would be more responsive to

my play that way. And there were those courses in the desert, which had

just strips of fairway surrounded by bare dirt. There was a course I

in Arizona like that once. The course was so nice, I was thinking that

could have played just that course for the rest of my life. But things

work out, and it became a private course. I still think longingly about

course sometimes.

Of course, you have to watch out for courses with crabgrass. That

can seriously ruin your game. A friend of mine played a course that was

loaded with crabgrass once. He kept going on about how beautiful a

it was, how other people were impressed that he was playing a course as

nice as that one. Then he noticed crabgrass one day, and his play just
took a

nose dive. He wasn't able to play golf for a few months after that.

to say, he didn't play that course again. Now, he makes sure that he
gets to

know the grounds keeper very well before he plays a course. And he

always keeps his clubs covered now, too.

This course was a links course, essentially designed around the

surrounding land. It was hilly in spots, though not too hilly to make
if out

of proportion. I didn't like the courses where the grounds keeper made

hills artificially large. They just didn't look right to me. This
course had flat

areas as well, in fact the fairways were very level, but not flat to the

of being like a parking lot. The course was about average in length,

played longer, but this course wasn't easy by any means. I had to get

know the grounds keeper very well before I was allowed to play.

I swung once again, ripping my wood shot down the middle again. I

was on fire that day. My shots were right down the middle, parting the

fairway smoothly. I was very satisfied with my play, and I noticed the

grounds keeper looking at me, smiling, apparently impressed with my

powerful drives.

I took a minute to inspect the fairway closely. The grass was smooth

and even, and very clean. I couldn't help but run my hands through the

grass, wet with the morning dew, I'd assumed. I gazed at the grounds

keeper, very impressed with the care taken to keep the fairway, and

the entire course, in such good condition.

I realized that I was spending too much time running my fingers

through the grass, and the grounds keeper was getting a little impatient

my slow play, although flattered by all of my attention to the fairway.

I was ready to take my next swing, but was nearing my objective and

needed to try another approach. I decided to go with a wedge, the

club for the delicate area just nearest the green. I chipped my wedge,
and I

was really close. Perhaps one or two putts and I would reach my

Approaching the putting surface, I knew that my putter was ready to

its business. I wasn't that far away, and I knew that I might be done
in just

one more stroke. The grounds keeper looked on attentively, hanging on

every movement. She, too, was a true golf fan and I could tell that she

getting more and more excited by my play. She was yelling her

encouragement to me as I approached the green, imploring me to finish


I studied the green, knowing that I was just instants from holing out.

Clutching my putter, I concentrated on the task at hand. I gave one

swing of my club and there it was. IT'S IN THE HOLE.

"Yes!" The grounds keeper screamed.

I, too, was excited. The feeling of making a putt is one I never

And each time I make another putt, the exhilaration that fills me is

like anything else I've ever felt.

I dropped my club, too overwhelmed to hold it any longer and the

grounds keeper came up to me to congratulate me on my success. I placed

my club and ball back in my bag and began to walk off the green with

"You know, you're only going to be able to play one hole this

morning. I have to water the course, and then leave to run some

errands,"she told me.

"That's ok. I have to get to work anyway."

I love golf!


Copyright 1999

All Rights Reserved


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