Locked myself out of my apartment right as I was getting ready to leave for the airport to go from NYC to Ireland. I would have simply left and bought new clothes in Ireland, but the clubs were inside. Scrambled for a locksmith and ultimately it all worked out, but much more stressful than I would ever desire!
Our annual father son tournament was at Reynolds plantation. My brother in laws and their Dads and my Dad stayed at the lodge. I was getting close to 40 and even without a few beers for dinner I had to get to the bathroom at about 2 am. I fell over my Dad's suitcase on the floor and hit my head on the dresser. Huge gash and blood everywhere on the white tiled bathroom floor. My Dad who has seen a lot of blood in his work almost passed out and I decided to drive myself to the hospital. (easy to find in rural Ga. just fiollow the H signs on the road). Typical Saturday night ER with drunks and noise everywhere. 8 sutures later and made the 730 am tee time. I found a construction hard hat and wore it on the first tee. Didn't break 80 but good times.
Last year a week before our annual week long golf trip to Mesquite, Nevada a female friend severely broke her ring finger playing adult kickball. No golf for 6 weeks, no golf trip. She made up for it this year and placed 2nd overall for the week.
This is not a Golf Trip per say, but it did include golf and was hilarious. A long time ago, my buddy and I played in a Charity Golf Tournament @ Mont Tremblant just outside of Montreal, Canada.
After the tournament, we got cleaned up and went for the dinner that was planned. On the menu was "Roast Beef Au Jus" in other words, RB with sauce. My buddy wore white pants and a pink polo (Salmon??). He took one cut of the RB with his knife and fork and the whole plate fell in his lap. Couldn't stop laughing - even now - 30 some years later, it still brings up memories.
Thanks to all for posting their stories.
In the summer of 2002, two buddies and I were flying from Grand Rapids, MI to Philadelphia to: (1) play at Merion; and (2) then to play at a charity golf event hosted by Jay Sigel at Aronimink GC. I was really looking forward to the trip as my game was in great shape. At the airport, I had to check in, bring my bags to be scanned by TSA and then bring them back to the check in counter so they could be tagged by the counter agent. Its a small airport and the process is unusual. Anyway, back at the counter, there are three tags stuck to the end of the counter waiting for the gate agent to tag the scanned bags. He tagged my suitcase and clubs with the tag on the left and the right - leaving the center one still stuck to the counter. It seemed to me that when he printed the tags the liklihood was that my tags were together not bookends. I mentioned this to the counter agent and very politely suggested he made a mistake and asked him to double check. He wouldnt. I asked him again. He refused. I asked him one more time and he threatened to have my arrested by airport police (this was 10 months after 911). I walked away knowing one of my bags wouldnt arrive in Philadelphia and hoping it was my clothes and not my clubs that got lost. When we arrived at PHL, i got my suitcase. No clubs. But a pink suitcase with a ladys name was left on the conveyor. I looked and sure enough my bag tag was on it. I went to file a claim and the USAir agent in PHL could not understand how this happened. She said there was no way to find my clubs. I said "sure there is - look up the reservation of the lady whose suitcase in PHL. My clubs at her destination because her suitcase is at my destination." My clubs were in Houston. We told the story to Jay Sigel. He let me borrow some old clubs from his basement. He also called Merion and asked the locker room attendant if they had any spare golf shoes (I had packed mine with my clubs). The next day, we areive at Merion and the attendant hands me a pair of very old shoes and says, "these belonged to a member who died over the winter and his family didnt want to claim them." Did I mention they were old? They seemed a little tight but I laced em up. I then proceeded to play Merion, walking in a deadmans shoes (they ended up being too small and blistering my feet) and swinging the golf clubs of a pro with shafts as stiff as telephone poles. Needless to say, I played awful. USAir finally delivered my clubs to me at my hotel - but only we checked out of the hotel as we were packing the rental car to drive back to the Philly airport to go home. My friends and I still joke about playing a US Open course in a dead mans shoes.
Jen above is right. Ron's was hilarious. Though probably not to him at the time. I had chafing once, though not on a golf trip. Was following the pros at New Orleans. My son, noticing I was walking like a penguin, asked if it hurt. "Only when I walk, son" was my reply. But I got lotsa relief and fast healing from Boudreaux's Butt Paste. Funny name, but this light brown paste w/zinc oxide was a welcome relief. Hadn't considered the maxi pads. Hey! Whatever works. My worst golf injury happened at age 60, 3 yrs ago. Was using 2 clubs like chopsticks to fish balls out of a pond. Reaching from steep bank, my foot began to slip into the water. In an effort to regain my balance, I flailed hard w/ both arms. But one club was caught between webbing of right little finger and ring finger. Sprained the hell out of that little finger tendon/ligament. With an interlocking grip? Had to ad lib, dangling that finger off the club for almost 2 months. At 60? I don't heal as fast as those 20 somethings.
Driving with 4 guys in a van to Myrtle Beach. Not even 1 hour in a14 hour drive I got sick and started throwing up with food poisoning. Threw up all the way there. Half way there it started coming out of both ends. Oh my.! Took 16 hours but we made it. Took a shower, went to bed and felt great the next morning. Played 3 straight days. Got to play Tidewater. Great trip but it was a drive from hell to get there.
Last one hilarious
Pitt Meadows BC Amateur weekend quite a few years ago. Round 1 was VERY warm and muggy, sweaty. That night I developed crotch rot -- a rash, burning red and very painful. The following morning I couldn't even walk it hurt so bad and tee time was approaching. Tried absolutely everything I could think of to ease the pain...when I stumbled upon my wife's maxi pads (the peel and stick version) and paste one to the inside of each leg. Long story short I'm on the 1st green, putting. I looked down and one of the pads slipped out onto the green. Now what? Well, "that'll be mine, I said," and I finish the hole. Then I slipped into the bushes to adjust the pads. Not much was said, but you know what there thinking! Anyway, end of round I tell my bud about the experience. His comment to me was, "were they for light days?
David Allan is the Chuck Norris of golf trips - the rest of us can just back away and applaud the plucky Scot!!!