A few years ago, someone copyrighted this phrase then slapped it on a million bumper stickers that were soon found on every other car on the interstate. While the phrase “shit happens” entered our everyday vernacular, the person wise enough to copyright the phrase probably made themselves enough money to comfortably retire.
During a friendly round of golf this week, the phrase “shit happens” applied in the highest order, however, to read the statement on the back of this particular vehicle, you’d have to turn your head sideways.
It was a beautiful Wednesday afternoon on one of Florida’s luxurious golf courses, a course which shall remain nameless so we don’t get our memberships revoked. The cigars were alit and the whiskey was flowing, although to be perfectly honest, this incident happened early in the round before the whiskey could take its effect. This was just, as they say, an accident, for after all… shit happens.
As my goofy gaggle of golfing brethren and I reached the tenth hole, a dangerous turn took a turn for the worse. As the golf cart I was driving passed our beloved Coach’s cart at a sharp, sandy, right hand turn on the cart path, Coach decided to ramp up his speed behind us. The next thing I heard as I drove off into the distance was the sound of rubber on rubber and then… a loud crash.
You see, Coach, doing his best Mario Andretti, decided to speed up as we passed him by. His front left tire grinded against our back right tire. Let this be a lesson for all those driving golf carts on the course. It’s not always best to drag race them for they are, shall we say, flippable.
Upon hearing the crash, my par cart partner and I turned around to find Coach’s golf cart completely turned on its side. His golf clubs had fallen out and the seat had become detached. The container of sand for divot replacement had spiled everywhere and yes, coach had lost his beverage.
Fortunately, the momentum and adrenaline of the accident saw coach get out of the cart somehow, miraculously, relatively unscathed. He even finished his round like champ, not only birdieing that tenth hole but walking with a limp and a hearty hand scrape the rest of the day.
Needless to say, it was yet another wild afternoon on the course, not unexpected if you’re in anyway familiar with this foursome. Cell phone in hand, I couldn’t help but snap a photo of the incident for posterity’s sake. And since we have said picture, why not host a caption contest in honor of our beloved Coach’s recklessness?
Your mission, readers, should you choose to accept it, is to enter your caption in the comments section below. The best caption will receive one complimentary range session from one of Tampa Bay’s most notorious golf coaches. Just make sure you’re the one driving the cart.