On throwing clubs, I watched a golf instruction program where it was stated that players with a proper release get the club moving down the target line longer. To demonstrate, a good golfer was shown making a swing without a ball and letting the club go at what would be the point of impact. Sure enough, the club sailed right down the target line.
One day while waiting for the green to clear on a 160 yard par 3 (#11 at Great Southwest GC near Dallas), we were talking about coming over the top and I decided to demonstrate for my mates what I had seen on the tube. Proving that I must not be a good player (and that Murphy always prevails), I let go precisely at the bottom of my practice swing and my 7-iron flew 45* left of the intended line, hit a pine tree, and bent nearly as much. My companions thought it was pretty funny, with one sniding that he could have told me that I always came over the top without me having to break a club.
On another occasion, my son and I played a casual round with one of my regulars and his guest. My friend was a good player and decent guy, but he had a bad negative streak in him that from time to time would surface in the form of intense, though short-lived destructive behavior (breaking clubs, kicking or throwing his bag, cursing at himself, etc.).
Anyways, before the round, he warned us that he and his scratch player guest would be having a game of some consequence, that his friend was a bit full of himself (member of serveral clubs, ran two or three businesses for his dad, etc.), and that he could get a bit short and temperamental. Knowing my friend's own tendencies, I had to wonder how bad this could get given that he felt compelled to warn me about his guest's. I thought that perhaps my then relatively young son and I should go on our own, but he prevailed upon me to play with them anyways.
Well, we learned that a scratch player can shoot in the mid to upper 80s on a relatively easy, "everything in front of you" course. Our vocabulary of alternative golf terms was greatly enhanced, as was our astonishment with the depth and breadth of the game's vernacular. We discovered the dexterity and flexibility of cuss words, and that their potential combinations and permutations are infinite. All styles of club throwing were witnessed. Several were broken. Their golf cart sported a new custom-made moon roof midway the round.
Afterwards, this young man shook our hands just like nothing happened. In private, my friend apologized. I don't know how much he had to pay the club for a new cart roof, but he probably won more money than the cost. My son found the whole experience illuminating, and somewhat amusing. I was probably more bewildered than he was.