Novel & Cerita Funny Golf Sayings

“Yes! We’re joining in. I won’t be sitting on the sidelines watching you men have all the fun.” Alex leaned back, smirking. “Are you sure? Golf isn’t exactly a walk in the park. It’s a gentleman’s game.” Sophia shot him a playful glare. “Oh, please. Don’t patronize us. We’ll probably be better than you two.” “Confident, are we?” I teased, enjoying the banter. “Absolutely,” Martha chimed in, flipping her hair. “Let’s see if all that talk translates to skill on the course.”

He began speaking again, but it wasn’t what I wanted to hear. “Golf is simple. You start at the tee. Hit toward the flag. Fewest shot wins.” I listened even though I didn’t care much. “Driver for distance. Irons in the middle.” He went on. “Wedges when you’re close. Putter on green. Don’t talk during a swing, don’t take forever, and don’t hit until the group ahead of us is clear…I’ll explain better with my gear.” I nodded as if I understood half of what he had said, but I didn’t say anything. If Mom knew we were out together, she’d call it a divine intervention.

Paul’s POV “Oh, fuck off, Dante,” I chuckled. “You can’t take a mulligan on every single hole.” Dutton and Nathan are laughing their asses off. “I told you, I’m not a golfer,” Dante said, teeing up his shot. “You need to give me a mulligan or a shot differential.” Nathan coughed the word ‘pussy’. “Very funny, Nathan,” Dante scowled. At least we’re done after this hole. Honestly, we were drinking more than we were playing. Well, except for Nathan. He kept looking at the tracker on his phone.

Gertrude said, pointing her purple-colored club at Lucy. "Hold this please," Lucy asked, handing her beer to Sara and picking up her green-colored club. She swung a hole-in-one. "That couldn't be legal," Sara responded with a serious tone. "How did you do that? This is one of the hardest holes on the course!" "Lucy's had too much practice playing mini-golf," Gertrude explained. They heard loud footsteps coming toward them up the pathway and a foreboding figure stepped from behind a rock wall.

He adjusted my hands, his fingers lingering. "You're a terrible teacher," I said. "Why's that?" "Because you keep distracting me." His chest shook with silent laughter against my back. "Fair point. Okay, serious now. Watch the ball. Keep your eye on it the entire time." He guided my arms through the motion, a slow practice swing that felt completely unnatural. My shoulders protested the position, and my wrists felt stiff. "Loosen up," he murmured. "Golf is about fluidity, not force."

, he hit the ball and the golf ball slowly crept into the hole before us, “ and boom, it's in the hole” “ Wow, you sure are talented”, I said, smiling less as I said it, and I could feel s little blush on his face. “ Nah, it's just something you pick up after years of practice”, he said. “ It wasn't a compliment”, I said sternly, completely taking the smile off my face, and he seemed to recoil a bit, but still found the whole thing amusing. “ Okay, so I'm to hold the stick firmly”, I said as I did exactly what he did.

“Plus, I wanted us to spent time with each other and be friends.” He placed a golf ball on a tee and focused as he measured the distance between the ball and the hole, before swinging the club to hit the ball. It flew above the ground and fell back down, then rolled into the hole. “Bullseye.” “This is such a rich people sport,” said Sasha as she took swing position. “Next time, some shopping would suffice.” She hit the ball with her club and missed the hole. “Are you enjoying watching me humiliate myself?”

Now, it was as if she didn't really care about the competition at all. Nigel couldn't help but clench his teeth. "Ms. Emerson, you're truly stubborn." His eyes became bloodshot as he sneered again, "Golf is an elegant sport, it's not like fighting. I hope you won't cry when you lose to me." He laughed with a hint of disdain in his eyes, "I wonder if you've ever touched a golf club before?" He had encountered such people before—complete novices who thought that golf was easy and assumed they could achieve good results.

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.”

"So you and NBA star Michael Hightower are boinking the same woman, and she also happens to be your real estate agent?" It was my turn at the tee. His turn of phrase really put me off my game and made my swing off. I hit my ball into a sandpit and cursed. "Who the hell says 'boinking?'" I asked, turning to look at him, annoyed. He just laughed at me. We walked down to the sandpit together so I could attempt to get my ball out. After several failed attempts, I finally just picked it up and went back to the start. "Seems like that sandpit isn't the only thing keeping your balls trapped," Mark muttered darkly.