Golf Jokes

A guy by the name of George died and found himself waiting to be let into Heaven. As George stepped up the gates Saint Peter asked him his name. George answered and Saint Peter ran his finger down the list. “I’m sorry, you’re not on the list. I’m afraid I can’t let you in.”

“There must be some mistake. I’ve lived a very decent life on Earth. The only thing that I’ve done wrong was cuss the other day on the golf course.”

“Well, why don’t you tell me what happened,” said Saint Peter.

“Well, I was on the 13th hole, and I drove the ball stright into the mud. Since it was my last ball, I had to play it the way I had found it. There was a big grove of trees in the way.”

“Is that when you cussed?” asked Saint Peter.

“No,”said George,” I took a swing at it, and I completely missed the ball.”

“Is that when you cussed?”

“No,” replied George,” I decided to take another swing at it. I hit it with all my might and it popped out of the mud, flew over the trees, onto the front of the green, and rolled about 12 inches away from the flag.”

Said Saint Peter, “JESUS CHRIST! YOU DIDN’T MISS A GODDAMNED ONE FOOT PUTT, DID YOU?”

A retired gentleman spent most afternoons at the local golf course. Every day he would spend about three hours out on the course, playing a round by himself. When he would return to the clubhouse, the resident pro would inquire about his score.

“Ed, how’d you shoot today?” to which the man would always reply, “Another perfect par.”

The golf pro (being of average intelligence) knew that there was no way the old man was shooting straight par every day. But since he was a regular customer, he didn’t want to insult the man by accusing him of lying.

Finally, one day, the pro decided to accompany the old man on his daily round, just to see for himself.

On the first tee, the older gentleman sliced the ball way off into the rough. He found his ball, but his second shot was even worse. Finally, putting it into the first hole (a par 4) took him 8 swings.

The golf pro thought to himself, “I knew it! This guy’s been lying all this time. There is no way he is gonna shoot anywhere NEAR par.”

They continued on, and the old man’s game stayed the same, never once getting a par on any one hole. After almost 3 hours, they teed off on the 13th hole. The old man actually hit it straight down the middle — It was the best shot he had made all day! He promptly walked down the fairway to his ball, picked it up, and began walking back to the clubhouse.

The pro was confused. “Hey, that was a great shot! Where are you going now?”

“Oh, I’m done,” the old man replied with a smile. “That shot was number 72 . . . another perfect par!”

It was a sunny Saturday morning on the course, and I was beginning my pre-shot routine on #1, visualizing my upcoming shot, when a voice came over the clubhouse loudspeaker.

“Would the gentleman on the Ladies Tee back up to the Men’s Tee, please!!”

I was still deep in my routine, seemingly impervious to the interruption. Again the announcement–”Would the MAN on the WOMEN’S Tee kindly back up to the Men’s Tee.”

I finally stopped, turned, looked through the clubhouse window directly at the person with the mike and shouted back, “Would the person in the clubhouse kindly shut up and let me play my second shot?!”

A hack golfer spends a day at a plush country club, playing golf & enjoying the luxury of a complimentary caddy. Being a hack golfer, he plays poorly all day. Round about the 18th hole, he spots a lake off to the left of the fairway. He looks at the caddy and says, “I’ve played so poorly all day, I think I’m going to go drown myself in that lake.”

The caddy looks back at him and says, “I don’t think you can keep your head down that long.”

A golfer was taken to the police station for questioning.

“Mr. Smith, I am Detective O’Reilly. Would you mind telling me what happened out there?”

“We were on the 1st hole. Dorothy went up to the women’s tee while I prepared to hit. I carefully gauged my swing and let one rip. It was a beautiful low liner but it had a slight hook. It struck Dorothy smack dab in the back of her head. I took off running but she was dead by the time I got to her side.”

“Mr. Smith, your story is supported by the report of the medical examiner, except for one thing. Upon performing the autopsy, the M.E. found a golf ball lodged up Mrs. Smith’s rectum. Would you mind explaining?”

“Oh sure! That was my mulligan.”