COLUMN: Golf has long way to go as a gentleman's game

Much ado has been made in the national media about Serena Williams’ explosive outburst against a line judge during the Women’s U.S. Open tennis shindig.
My house is a block away from public tennis courts in Darlington. Some of the words Williams used paled in comparison to expletives that blared from those tennis court back in the late 1970s. I could even hear tennis racquets shattering above the din.
And I know that Tiger Woods has coughed up a profanity or two on the golf course. Golfers are famous for their lack of decorum when they get mad because golf is a very frustrating game.
I say this from experience. Step back with me to the late 1990s. I was married then with triplet boys, two of whom were very good in golf.
I could hold my own with the boys in basketball and baseball. I was no match for them in golf because I didn’t have the patience to play golf.
But this was to be a family outing that I speak of. The ex-wife, Paula, and her dog, Lexus, were in one cart. Lexus is a purebred labrador retriever Paula flew out to Texas to retrieve.
The boys and I were in a second cart. I refused to start at the first hole because I didn’t want anybody behind us. It unnerved me to have other golfers breathing down my neck.
So we started at a far-distant hole with nobody close by.
Radisson and my late son Payson drove their balls straight down the fairway. Brenton, a left-hander with about as much patience as his old man, wasn’t far behind them.
I teed up amidst subtle sniggering in the background. The boys knew I had tuned up for the outing with a beer. I had several more in the cart.
I swung with all the professionalism that was in me and the ball took flight with the utmost flimsy. It landed to the left in a weedy area not far from me.
The sniggering got louder. Payson yelled, “Hey Dad, you don’t even have to ride in the golf cart to get that one. If you tried hard enough, you might even be able to touch it with your driver.”
Things got worse. I lost one ball and got about a 20 on the hole.
The next hole was near the creek. I sliced two in the creek before topping another one. I said a bad word or two or three or four. I threw my club.
“Great throw, Dad,” Radisson said. “You threw your club farther that you hit the ball.”
“Hey Dad,” Brenton chimed in, “we got Lexus here with us. See if she can’t retrieve those balls you hit in the creek.”
As I said, Serena Williams doesn’t have a lock on losing her cool.
My next shot went back over to the hole I had scored a 20 on. I said words that I shouldn’t have said. I threw a golf ball toward the hole farther that I could hit one.
In short, as far as Paula was concerned, the family outing was totally ruined.
“Golf is supposed to be a gentleman’s game,” she railed from her cart. “You are not being a gentleman. Lexus and I are leaving. You have embarrassed us enough.”
With that, she took off in a huff for the clubhouse with Lexus barking the whole way.
I got back in my cart and told the boys to go ahead and play. I said I would drive because it was apparent I did a much better job of that than playing golf.
And I believe that was the last time I’ve been on the links at the Darlington Country Club.
However, I know golf has got a long way to go as a gentleman’s game. I’ve heard much stronger language blare from the course than I used. And I refrained from throwing a club into the creek as others have done.
But I do have to confess, I didn’t use my good golf balls when I was playing that infamous time. I used range balls because I had a good idea where they would end up.