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August 27, 2005
The Silence of the Worms....
This conversation was overheard in the Greenskeeper’s cabin at March Meadows Golf Course late at night on August 26, 2005…….
“What’s bothering you Clarice? Tell me what makes you shiver and listen to the night? What demons do you hear?”
“It’s the worms Daddy….”
“The worms Clarice? I don’t hear any worms.”
“Not now Daddy. But before. Before they left the course. I could hear them screaming Daddy. I could hear the worms screaming.”
“And why were they screaming Clarice? What made the worms scream to upset you so?”
“It was them Daddy. It was them and their ‘worm burner’ shots. Off the tees. In the fairways. In the rough. Even on the greens Daddy. They even burned the worms on the greens! The worms help make the ground good for the grass to grow. We need our worms Daddy…..we needed all of them. But now……so many are gone. The worms were screaming Daddy!! I heard them. They were making the worms scream.”
“And what are you listening to now Clarice?”
“I’m scared Daddy. I’m scared for the worms that won’t be there tomorrow.”
“But what are you listening to Clarice? What are you hearing now?”
“The silence Daddy…..the silence of the worms.”
Golf is a strange game. Much has been written about it and more will be written still. It is a game of honor and civility. Manners and decorum. Skill and mastery of emotion. It is also a game of lies and frustration. Anxiety and crushing, humiliating defeat, usually by one’s own hand.
But once in a while it can also be fun, regardless of how many times you hit the ball, where you hit it or sometimes, embarrassingly enough, if you even manage to hit it at all.
I played the game yesterday for the first time in over seven years. I cannot remember making or seeing so many fascinating shots. The kind you won’t see watching Tiger Woods make on any given Sunday afternoon.
Perhaps the most consistently interesting were the aforementioned ‘worm burner’ shots. Anyone who has learned the game knows them. They happen when a poorly struck ball never really achieves an altitude more than six or seven inches off the fairway, but sometimes still travels a good and fair distance. They even have a unique sound….a sort of ‘ffff-ffff-ffff-fffft’ sound as they skim the surface, putting the fear of God into any wildlife in their path. And yes, that has to include the worms.
To put it into a perspective of scale, it would be about the same as a sphere the size of a house swooshing overhead at about 900 miles an hour. Even an invertebrate appetizer for the avian set would have to get the chills and fear with an event like that. They’d simply have to.
Well there were worm burners a-plenty as well as balls that flew higher into the sky than they did down the fairway. Some balls went swimming and some violated privately held logging permits because of the damage done to the trees. And around Lake Cowichan you have to be extra careful of that happening, because they take their logging pretty darn seriously there. You’re likely as not going to have some foaming at the mouth, wild eyed, chainsaw wielding greenskeeper looking like ‘Leatherface’ from Texas chasing you down the fairway and away from the site of your softwood transgression.
And some balls simply….went away. It helps to keep repeating the old adage, “If you set something free and it comes back to you, it is yours. If it doesn’t, it never was.” But it helps to believe it if you drink lots of beer.
Now here’s a hint that can save inexperienced players a lot of pain and suffering. And I mention this because there is a lot to remember about the game and it can be very confusing trying to remember all of that stuff all at the same time when you are out there.
Probably the most important safety tip out there is to remember that the ball washers are for your GOLF balls only. The pictures below clearly illustrate this function.
As you can plainly see, a trip to the hospital will surely be in store if you get this wrong.
But overall it was a good day and escaping the office was the real prize. More golfing will undoubtedly ensue without another seven year wait, regardless of the number of ‘worm burners’ to be hit in the future. As we were leaving the course the comment was made;
“I love the smell of burnt worms in the morning….it smells like….victory.”
~ AP
Posted by Anonymous Pundit at August 27, 2005 04:19 PM