Alright, so I gotta tell you about this thing I stumbled upon, they called it “lous golf.” Sounds fancy? Nah, not even close. It was more like “lousy golf,” if I’m being honest, and boy, was it something else.
My First Go at “Lous Golf”
I first heard about it from a flyer, stuck on a community board, looking all colorful and promising a “revolutionary new sporting experience.” Revolutionary, my foot. I rounded up a couple of mates, thinking, hey, why not? Could be a laugh. So, we got there, and it was basically this patch of uneven ground behind an old warehouse. The “holes” were just dips in the dirt, some with old coffee cans sunk in. The “clubs”? Bent sticks. The “balls”? A mix of scuffed-up tennis balls and what looked like dog toys.
We tried, you know? Gave it the old college try. Swinging those bent sticks was a workout for the wrists, and not in a good way. The balls would either rocket off into the weeds or just thud and stop dead on a clump of grass. There was no skill to it, just pure, dumb luck and a whole lot of frustration. We spent more time hunting for the balls than actually “playing.”
- The setup was a joke.
- The equipment was terrible.
- The “course” was more of an obstacle field.
After about thirty minutes, we just looked at each other, covered in dust, and burst out laughing. It was so unbelievably bad, it became funny. We packed up our “gear” – which meant just dropping the sticks – and left. Never again.
Why Even Bother, Right?
Now, you might be asking, why did I even bother to go check out something that sounded a bit off from the get-go? Well, that’s a story in itself. See, I used to be in a line of work where things had to be just right. I was a stagehand, for years. Every light, every prop, every single cable had to be perfect. If it wasn’t, the show wouldn’t run smoothly, or worse, someone could get hurt. Precision was everything.
Then, a few years back, I had this accident. Nothing too dramatic, but enough to mean I couldn’t do the heavy lifting and the long hours on my feet anymore. Slipped on a wet bit of stage, landed awkwardly on my back. Doctor said, “Time to find something a bit more gentle, mate.” So, I had to retire from that life. Suddenly, I had all this time on my hands. Too much time, really.
I started looking for little things to do, odd jobs, hobbies, anything to keep my mind occupied. That’s how I end up trying stuff like “lous golf.” I see a flyer, or hear about some new local thing, and part of me, the old me, gets curious. The other part just wants to get out of the house. Sometimes you find a gem, most times you find… well, you find “lous golf.”
It’s funny, though. Back in the day, if someone had presented a “set” like that “lous golf” course for a show, they’d have been laughed out of the building. Or more likely, told to fix it, and fix it fast. Now, I just look at it, shake my head, and think, “Well, that’s another story to tell.” It kind of puts things in perspective, you know? What used to be a professional disaster is now just a Tuesday afternoon adventure. And honestly, sometimes, the really bad ones make for the best stories later on. This “lous golf” thing? Definitely one for the books. Makes me appreciate the well-made things in life even more.
