Golfers, look out for slippery slopes

I nearly killed myself playing golf last Friday.

Yes, it does sound funny, and I could play along with some hilarious lines, but unfortunately ...

It actually happened.

And the only reason I’m writing about an event I brought entirely on myself is that I’m hoping maybe one of you golfers out there will read this and avoid a similar incident.

Or maybe you have friends coming to the area from out of town, folks who won’t see this — so perhaps you can give them a gentle warning.

The thing is, golfers talk about wet conditions all the time.

You hear broadcasters doing PGA Tour events mention that it’s rained in the area, so the ball isn’t rolling quite so much on the fairways but the greens are really holding iron shots.

“They’re really receptive,” the talking heads will say. “These guys can go after the pins with greens like this.”

AT ANY rate, with all the rain, then snow, then rain we’ve had ...

I’ve been dying to get out and play golf. My game is barely average on a good day, but I love it — and my cat has refused to fetch any more living-room chip shots.

So on Friday, I drove down to Worley for a round at Circling Raven.

If you’ve played The Raven, you know that there are plenty of things to worry about during your round — enough sand to re-stock the Sahara, pin placements almost hanging off the edge of slopes and, yes, on that day you also had to contend with a few muddy patches and holes that played unbelievably long.

What you would NOT have worried about, most likely, was breaking a few bones, bruising yourself from head to toe or — most terrifying of all — cracking your head on a rock.

So please listen to my frightening adventure.

And by the way, I’m now bruised and have some muscles pulled in weird directions, and my back feels as though someone dropped a cannonball on my spine from the top of the Eiffel Tower.

THIS ALL occurred because I somehow forgot how damn wet the place had become.

Of course I’d muttered about drives not bounding along and lumps of mud as I was hitting shots, but there’s more to a course than where you strike that Titleist.

Because of the wet conditions, the rule for carts was that they must be kept on the concrete paths — which means you have to walk from the cart path to your ball on every shot.

Circling Raven is not exactly flat, so there were plenty of trudges up and down some very wet, grassy hills.

And ...

I must have gone completely brain-dead while starting down a fairly steep slope.

My feet promptly went out from under me, and suddenly I was skidding down an embankment that seemed to go forever. I got twisted around and barely missed a big rock.

At the moment, I’m limping and sore but feeling swell about being alive. That rock formation had whizzed past at scary proximity.

Here’s the deal: I’m willing to sound stupid and admit I did a dumb and dangerous thing, simply so the rest of you golfers don’t actually wind up needing knee surgery.

Or worse.

It’s very, very wet and scary things can happen while you’re walking and thinking about that next shot — instead of concentrating on where you put your feet.

Don’t challenge Mother Nature.

Meanwhile, send flowers during my recuperation.

Steve Cameron is a special assignment reporter for The Press. Email: [email protected].