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The pro-shop gets its name from the fact that you must have the income of a professional golfer to buy anything in there.
It’s amazing how a golfer who never helps with house or yard work will replace his divots, repair his ball marks, and rake his sand traps.
Did you ever notice that it’s a lot easier to get up at 6:00 a.m. to play golf than at 10:00 to mow the yard or go to church?
It takes longer to become good at golf than it does brain surgery. On the other hand, you seldom get to ride around in a cart, drink beer and eat hot dogs while performing brain surgery.
A good drive on the 18th hole has stopped many a golfer from giving up the game.
A good golf partner is one who’s slightly worse than you.
The rake is always in the other trap.
If there’s a storm rolling in, you’ll be having the game of your life.
If your opponent has trouble remembering whether he shot a six or a seven, he probably shot an eight.
Golf appeals to the child in all of us. This is proven by our frequent inability to count past the number 5.
It’s easy to keep your ball in the fairway, if you don’t care which fairway.
If profanity had any influence on the flight of a ball, most everyone would play better.
The greatest sound in golf is the, “Whoosh, Whoosh, Whoosh” of your opponent’s club as he hurls it across the fairway.
A recent survey shows that of all jobs, caddies live the longest. They get plenty of fresh air and exercise, and if there’s ever a medical emergency, a doctor is always nearby.
The best wood for lowering your score is a pencil.
You may need lessons if you had to regrip your ball retriever.
It’s difficult to decide which is more stressful – hitting 3 off the tee or lining up your 4th putt.
With practice and strength training you can easily get more distance off the shank.
The only sure way to get a par is to leave a 4 foot birdie putt 2 inches from the hole.
Nothing straightens out a nasty slice like a sharp dogleg to the right.
Never wash your ball on the tee of a water hole.
No matter how badly you are playing, it’s always possible to get worse.
Don Meredith, Dallas Cowboy Quarterback, once said: “Coach Tom Landry is such a perfectionist that if he were married to Raquel Welch, he would expect her to cook.”
Harry Neale, professional hockey coach: “Last year we couldn’t win at home and we were losing on the road. My failure as a coach was that I couldn’t think of anyplace else to play.”
Reggie Jackson commenting on Tom Seaver: “Blind people come to the ballpark just to listen to him pitch.”
Doug Sanders, professional golfer: “I’m working as hard as I can to get my life and my cash to run out at the same time. If I can just die after lunch on Tuesday, everything will be perfect.”
Mickey Lolich, Detroit Tigers pitcher: “All the fat guys watch me and say to their wives, ‘See, there is a fat guy doing great. Bring me another beer.’”
Tommy Lasorda , Los Angeles Dodgers manager: “I found out that it’s not good to talk about my troubles. Eighty percent of the people who hear them don’t care and the other twenty percent are glad I’m having them.”
E.J. Holub, Kansas City Chiefs linebacker regarding his twelve knee operations: “My knees look like they lost a knife fight with a midget.”
Vic Braden, tennis instructor: “My theory is that if you buy an ice cream cone and make it hit your mouth, you can learn to play tennis. If you stick it on your forehead, your chances aren’t as good.”
Walt Garrison, Dallas Cowboys fullback when asked if Tom Landry ever smiles: “I don’t know. I only played there for nine years.”
John Breen, Houston Oilers: “We were tipping off our plays. Whenever we broke from the huddle, three backs were laughing and one was pale as a ghost.”
Bum Phillips, New Orleans Saints, after viewing a lopsided loss to the Atlanta Falcons: “The film looks suspiciously like the game itself.”
Al Hrabosky, major league relief pitcher: “When I’m on the road, my greatest ambition is to get a standing boo.”
Paul Horning, Green Bay Packers running back on why his marriage ceremony was before noon: “Because if it didn’t work out, I didn’t want to blow the whole day.”
Lou Holtz, Arkansas football coach: “I have a lifetime contract. That means I can’t be fired during the third quarter if we’re ahead and moving the ball.”
Knute Rockne, when asked why Notre Dame had lost a game: “I won’t know until my barber tells me on Monday.”
Bill Walton, Portland Trail Blazers: “I learned a long time ago that ‘minor surgery’ is when they do the operation on someone else, not you.”
George MacIntyre, Vanderbilt football coach surveying the team roster that included 26 freshmen and 25 sophomores: “Our biggest concern this season will be diaper rash.”
Rick Venturi, Northwestern football coach: “The only difference between me and General Custer is that I have to watch the films on Sunday.”
And you thought Yogi was the only one whose mind worked this way.
I was testing children in my Dublin Sunday school class to see if they understood the concept of getting to heaven.
I asked them, ‘ If I sold my house and my car, had a big garage sale and gave all my money to the church, would that get me into heaven?
”NO!’ the children answered.
‘If I cleaned the church every day, mowed the garden, and kept everything tidy, would that get me into heaven?
‘Again, the answer was ‘NO!
”If I gave sweets to all the children, and loved my husband, would that get me into heaven?’
Again, they all answered ‘NO!
I was just bursting with pride for them. I continued, ‘Then how can I get into heaven?’
A little boy shouted out: ‘YUV GOTTA BE FOOKN’ DEAD.’
It’s a curious race, the Irish.
Brings a tear to the eye, doesn’t it?
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Three old grandmas were sitting on a bench outside the nursing home when an old grandpa walked by.
One of the old grandmas yelled out, “Hey, we bet we can tell exactly how old you are!”
The old man said, “There’s no way you can guess my age!”
One of the grandmas said, “Sure we can! Just drop your pants and undershorts and we can tell your exact age.”
Embarrassed, but anxious to prove they couldn’t do it, he dropped his drawers.
The grandmas asked him to first turn around a couple of times and then jump up and down several times.
Determined to prove them wrong, he did it.
Then they all said in unison, “You’re 79-years-old!”
Standing with his pants down around his ankles, the old gent asked, “How in the world did you guess my age?'”
Slapping their knees, high-fiving and grinning from ear to ear, the three old ladies happily crowed…..”We were at your birthday party yesterday!”