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Englishman
& Scotsman
There
was this Englishman and this Scotsman who were preparing to shoot
a round of golf on the Royal and Ancient Golf Club of St Andrews.
The
Sassenach, a bow-legged squire from the Dales, stood near the tee
while the Scot made a few practice swings.
Then
the bow legs proved too much for the Scot and obeying a mischievous
urge, he sent the ball whistling between them.
"I
say, old chap," the Englishman's tone was indignant, "that isn't
cricket."
"No
'tis not," grinned the highlander, "it's good croquet, thought."
Three
visitors
Three
visitors to Royal Eastborne Club decided to join forces for a game
but, of course, they first introduced themselves each other.
"My
name is Avram Solomon", said the bearded gent, "but I'm not
the Rabbi."
"My
name is Attila, but I'm not the Hun", said the quietly spoken
youth wearing glasses.
My
n-n-n-name is M-M-M-Mary, said the shy young woman, "and I'm
not a v-v-v-v-v-very good player."
Two
new members
Saturday
night and the clubhouse was crowded and noisy. The two players were
drinking at the bar and discussing their game.
"Excuse
me," the barman interrupted, "you're new members, aren't you?"
"Yes,"
replied one player, "but in all this crowd, how did you know?"
"You
put your drinks down."
80
year old golfer
MacDonald
was aged 80 when, for the first time in his life, he walked into
his golf club bar and ordered drinks for everyone
"What's
the occasion, mon?" enquired the stunned bartender. "Hole in one?"
"No,"
the old highlander replied, "I've just married a bonnie lass!"
It
was seven months later when MacDonald again strode into the bar
and again ordered drinks all round.
"And
what are we celebrating this time?" asked the amazed bartender.
"Tis
the wife, lad, she's just presented me with a baby boy."
"But
you've only been married seven months!"
"Tis
true, 'tis true! Imagine it - two under par and me with a whippy
shaft!"
What's wrong with golf ?
He'd
rejected the idea of dieting, health spas and swimming but when
his doctor advised golf, the corpulent patient thought it might
be worth trying.
After
a few weeks, however, he was back at the doctor's and asking whether
he could take up some other game.
"But,"
protested the doctor, "what's wrong with golf? There's no finer
game!"
"You
are doubtless correct," the patient replied, "but my trouble is
that when I put the wretched ball where I can see it I can't hit
it and when 1 put it where I can hit it, I can't see it!"
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