Funny Golf Quotes Novels & Stories

His eyes land on me, then on the club hanging useless from my grip. "Surely we're not expecting her to play." He says it to the men around him, only turning to me after the laugh has landed. "Golf at this level isn't exactly something you pick up because you've been to a few dinners, Miss Carter." The concern in his voice doesn't match his face. His face is enjoying this. I could tell him I've held a golf club exactly twice, both times in the last hour. I could let the silence do what it usually does for me and shrink until this stops being about me at all.

She continued to laugh like a drunkard as she hugged a pillow close to herself and slept off this time. **************** “I'm definitely beating you in this game” Mr Tom laughed as he positioned himself to strike his golf ball into the hole. “You know it's because I have a bad back”. Mr Tom chuckled and made the strike, he scored and threw his bat up as he yelled in happiness. Mr Brooks laughed and clapped for him, Mr Tom dropped his bat and they hugged laughing. They both walked over to a bench to sit and relax, the sun shone very brightly but the tent protected them from the scorching sun.

I lined up my shot, squinting a little against the sun, when Cartwright said, “Bet you can’t get it in under par this hole.” “You’re on,” I said, smirking. I took my shot, and the ball went wide. Like, way wide. It wasn’t even funny how bad it was. Cartwright started laughing so hard he almost fell over. “Man, you suck!” he said between gasps, slapping his knee like this was the funniest thing in the world even though it wasn't. Ass. Mae's ass. I was obsessed with it. Focus! “Whatever, dude,” I shot back, grinning. “Let’s see you do better.”

“I see you still play golf, let's see if you've gotten rusty, shall we?” “You might be the rusty one.” Liam countered jokingly. “Don't be so sure!”

I step forward next, adjusting my grip around the club before swinging, and the ball misses the mark by several inches. “Rusty?” he asks, the hint of mockery unmistakable. I ignore him. For the next several holes, he keeps the lead—and makes sure I know it—while I struggle to find my rhythm again. My movements feel slightly off, but slowly the muscle memory begins returning, and each swing grows steadier, each shot landing closer to where I want it. I start catching up, and the comments begin quietly, muttering just loud enough for me to hear. At one point, he makes a remark about poor rich boys who never learned how to golf properly, and that lands harder than it should.

Dominic Sinclair stood at the edge of the lush green field, staring down at the golf ball with a mix of irritation and concentration. He adjusted his cap, muttering something under his breath as he eyed the hole in the distance. His trainer, a calm, well-versed professional, stood a few paces back, observing his client with quiet amusement. Dominic swung the golf club—a fierce, clumsy motion that sent the ball veering off course, rolling pathetically to the side. "Ah, for crying out loud!" Dominic grumbled, throwing his hands up in frustration. "I could’ve done better blindfolded." His voice echoed across the quiet course, causing a few birds to scatter from nearby trees.

Sore loser. "It's because it's a young people thing, for people who are too poor and too interesting to play real golf" I giggle. He turns his head to look at me, his smirk wide across his lips. "Are you calling me boring?" "Perhaps a little, most old men are boring" I smirk back at him as we stop at a traffic light. He shakes his head, his lower lip being taken in between his teeth. "Oh so now that you're 20 you think old people are boring, old people like me have very fun lives" He argues with a cheeky grin. I love playful Rhodes, it's the best side of his personality and it's been out in full force today. Truly a birthday treat.

Instead of leaving Joel's Betas were instructed to play as a foursome and follow us. I quickly learned were wolves don't typically play Mini-golf. The first hole, it took Joel a good eight strokes to get the ball into the cup. He swung much too hard. I tried not to laugh, his pack was watching. I was attempting to be dignified about it. It would probably be disrespectful to find humor in his lack of ability. "From what I have heard about golf," he said batting the little orange ball into the bushes, "this is funny. You are most certainly allowed to laugh at me. I plan on laughing at my Betas when they try."

They all faced down immediately none daring to say a word "Great you guys are fast learners"I smirk, I started leaving when suddenly "I miss you" I heard Nicklaus say, I halted on my steps but did not turn my back I raised my left middle finger giving him the "Fuck you" Sign before I left gorgeously

The air crackled with their adrenaline and camaraderie, their anticipation for the upcoming game contagious. As I pushed my way through the crowd, one guy jeered, "Hey, look at Shorty over here! What's your sport, little man? Mini-golf?" Laughter erupted around me. Another chimed in, "More like the Elf Olympics!" Their laughter felt like a punch to the gut, but I wasn't surprised. I already knew my height would be another point of contention I'd have to deal with here. Trying to mask my discomfort, I shot back, "You know what they say about us little guys, right? We're like ninjas, here one moment, gone the next." Their laughter only grew louder, echoing loudly in my ears.