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Golf Gazette: Taking a ball’s-eye view of the golf game

08/28/2016 3:00 PM |

Question: What is 1 1/2 inches in diameter, weighs a bit over an ounce, and can travel more than a hundred miles an hour? I’ll bet some of you will get this one. Yup, it’s a golf ball.

As golfers we spend oodles of money on clubs yet give little thought to the ball we use.

So, with that said, let’s take some time and get up close and personal with a real, live golf ball.

Before we start, it’s confession time. My wife, Jean, and I have names for everything, and I mean everything. Our furniture, appliances, our car, each other, everything but the kitchen sink. Oops, sorry, the sink has a name.

With that admission, fortunately for me, I was not subjected to a psychiatric evaluation when I applied for this job 14 years ago. So, ladies, gentlemen and children of all ages, let me introduce to you, ta-da: Dimples, the golf ball.

Life began for Dimples at a large manufacturing plant in Massachusetts. Dimples started out as a mixture of synthetics and rubber; was shaped, welded, baked, polished, sprayed and voila, Dimples was born.

Dimples was then put in a sleeve (a small box) with two other newbies and put onto a truck. After bouncing along the highway for hours, Dimples was getting a tad anxious. Finally, the truck door opened. Dimples had arrived someplace, but where? A sign nearby read, “Welcome To Bethpage State Park. Site of the Barclays.”

Yes! Dimples had made the big time.

OK, so now what? Would Dimples be sent to the pro shop and put on a shelf? Or maybe, just maybe, would Dimples be set aside for Jordan, Jason, Rory or Dustin, to be used in the Barclays Tournament?

Dimples discussed the possibilities with the two others in the sleeve. “You know,” said sleeve-mate No. 1, “professional golfers use a new ball on every hole, so your 15 minutes of glory would be just that, 15 big ones.”

“Then it’s off to the golf ball graveyard,” sleeve-mate No. 2 added.

“But what if I get purchased by Harvey the Hacker?” Dimples asked with some concern. “He’ll probably send me into the drink on the first water hole he plays.”

The next day a well-dressed golfer came into the pro shop, purchased Dimples and friends, then headed out to play the challenging Black Course.

“This should be exciting,” Dimples thought. “Imagine, making my debut on a world-class golf course.”

However, Dimples did not see action until the difficult 207-yard, par-3, 17th hole, when the golfer, deciding to switch to a new ball, removed Dimples from the bag. OK big “D,” it’s show time.

Taking some deep breaths, Dimples nervously waited on the tee while the golfer took a few practice swings. Then, crunch. Dimples felt a quick, sharp, pain, and just like that was sailing in the air at over 100 miles per hour. Then, very quickly, it became dark. Hearing screams in the distance, Dimples shouted: “Where the heck am I? What’s going on? Helloow! Is anyone there?”

The golfer had hit a perfect shot and made a hole-in-one.

When the golfer arrived at the green and gently removed Dimples from the cup, Dimples heard the golfer say, “I’m going to keep this ball forever and put it on my mantle.”

“OK, maybe I didn’t get much playing time,” Dimples thought, “but being on a mantle is a lot better than spending eternity lost in the woods, at the bottom of some yucky pond, or even worse, living my golden years as a range ball. Yes indeed, it will be great looking down from the mantle, watching The Golf Channel, and spending the holidays with my new family. Turkey, mashed potatoes, pumpkin pie. I can’t wait.”

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