From the Desk of The DBeazy One-Man-Think-Tank

In the not-to-distant past, I could be found at the golf course almost every day.  I gave up the game when a chronic issue with four of my fingers left me unable to grip my golf clubs. The condition is correctable, but I just haven’t gotten around to it because it will probably require surgery. At any rate, there are golf stories and there are golf stories. But if you ask Stephen Barnes to tell the story about the time the golf cart brake released on its own, I can promise you that he will not be able to finish the story.  I will give it a try.

Stephen Barnes is my brother-in-law.  As brother-in-law relationships go, I would bet there is none better.  Over the years he and I have gone together on a purchase or two.  The first was a ski boat, (another story, another day) and then a golf cart.  Now Stephen preferred to drive the cart because he is emotionally about 4 yrs old when it comes to riding toys.  I mean, today you can go to his house and you will find 3 or 4 automobiles, a golf cart, a tractor, a couple of 4-wheelers, a side-by-side, and a lawnmower.

So the story is odd because I was for some reason driving the golf cart on that fateful day.  At the Columbia Country Club, the 6^th hole was among the most difficult on the course. To start with, from the tee box, the fairway is narrow, uphill, with a deep ditch over the hill.  There is a cart path on the right with a bridge that crosses the ditch and to the right at that point is a grassy bluff going up about 30 feet to a tennis court.

A long tee shot to the right often lands on the concrete path and there is no telling where the ball will end up from that point.  On the day in question, one of us lost our ball.  Not knowing where to look, I parked the cart on an incline and Stephen was looking in the ditch to the left and I was looking on the bluff by the tennis court.  As soon as I had made it to the top of the bluff, I heard the golf cart break disengage. Turning in response, I saw the cart rolling backward towards a ditch that is 4 feet deep.  I looked at Stephen who had also turned but was farther away than I was. I bolted to save the cart.

Now, this is part of the story when Stephen first begins to “haver” when telling it. Sometimes, he recovers for a bit, but not for long.  He loses it and no one can understand a word he is saying.

So it is at that point in the story when I took off running to stop the cart.  Remember though, I am atop a tall bluff, and I am running down a long downhill slope.  Now back in the day, I could run. I could run fast. But at the time, I was in my 40’s, overweight, and I am assuming that I had to throw down my cigarette when I bolted. As if that wasn’t enough, I wasn’t blessed with long legs. So I was running faster than I have ever run in my life, including the day my Golden Retriever pissed off a huge bull in the field behind my house and the bull tried to take it out on me!

As Stephen tells the story, he is done here.  He can no longer talk because the image of me coming down that hill is more than he can handle and he is laughing too hard to finish. I have to step in and finish.

So I was running. The cart is not only still rolling backward, but it is also picking up speed.  Somehow, I find another gear and though I previously would have thought it impossible, the grade of the slope, my weight, and the pull of gravity had me running at a record speed for me.  It was all I could do to keep my legs under me.  I remember thinking at the time that one little miss-step is going to leave me bruised, skint, and bleeding. But luck was on my side and the ground began to level a bit.  I was gaining on the golf cart and it looked like I might be able to reach it in time. I’m coming up on the cart, but something isn’t right.  I’m approaching too fast, and something caused the wheels to turn on the cart altering its direction.  I’m getting close now, but due to the change in direction of the cart, my angle is now wrong, and I’m coming in way too hot. But just as I had to keep my feet moving when descending the hill to keep from hurting myself, now any direction change or an abrupt change of velocity would cause the whole attempt to end in such calamity, resulting in a trip to the emergency room for sure.

I was the main character in a scene that was nothing short of surreal.  As if the gods above were having fun making sport of me, they brought the cart to a safe stop.  As I passed the cart, I remember trying to reach out and grab it, though I’m pretty sure if I had succeeded in that endeavor, it would have jerked my arm from the socket at the shoulder. The last thing I remember before shear momentum pushed me past the cart and forced me to long jump the ditch was seeing the jagged chunks of broken concrete that helped keep the ditch from eroding further.

I cannot tell you if we finished the round.  I suppose we continued to play, but by then, I thought I might have to call an ambulance for Stephen because of his laughter at my expense.  Years later, Stephen cannot tell this story without me having to bail him out. I didn’t find it quite so humorous at the time, though by now, I’ve told my half of it so much that I can laugh at myself.  I know it isn’t physically possible, but I’m pretty sure my feet looked like the roadrunner when he grew tired of playing with the coyote and ran off and left him.

And one more thing.  This story cannot be told without someone saying, “If you only had that on video……”