Paging Dan Kelly. Didn't he get beaned by a shot a couple years back?
Hey, Doug --
A little birdie told me -- in a loud, low-pitched voice -- that my testimony had been called for. Here's my story:
I was on the 5th hole at Braemar Golf Course, a municipal course in Edina, Minnesota. The 5th is a par-4 dogleg-left -- as is the adjacent (to the left) par-4 14th hole. The tee of the 5th is perhaps 75 yards forward of the 14th tee; the greens are similarly separated.
It was Memorial Day in 2009. I had driven into the left rough on 5 -- into a grove of leafed-out deciduous trees. (There might be some conifers in there, too. I think there are.) My path to the green was hopelessly (even for a determined optimist) blocked. I pulled out a long-iron and hit a low punch out to the fairway ... and JUST as I finished my swing, I got CONKED on the back-left top of my head. I thought my clubhead had flown off and hit me. From knockdown punch to knockout punch! But no, I got up before the mandatory eight-count.
My partners reported that the impact made a fearful noise. I couldn't, right then, hear much of any noise. I could hear almost nothing -- but I could feel a huge lump rising quickly.
I thought I'd gone deaf. Spooky feeling.
My cousin -- one of my playing partners that day -- YELLED at me to tell me what had happened: A woman on the adjacent 14th had sliced her second shot (we presume; it was not, at any rate, her tee shot) into the trees. She certainly could not have seen me in among those trees -- but her ball found me, that's for sure.
She did not yell "Fore!"
I lost some hearing, permanently (though some of what I lost has returned). I can no longer hear the very-high-pitched noise of the card reader that guards the entrance to our building -- a sound that was very clear to me every day until the beaning. I have a lot of difficulty hearing in places like ... parties, in big spaces, where lots of sound is bouncing around; and in restaurants that make no effort to muffle the sound. And even as I type this, I am aware of a high-pitched buzzing in my ear that I never had -- or at least was never aware of -- before the incident. Tinnitus, they call it. Some days, it's a gentle squeal; others, it sounds like the cicadas in suburban Chicago.
Those trees were planted, I was told, to PROTECT golfers on 5 from shots on 14 -- and vice versa. Of course, they had quite the opposite effect: The woman on 14 couldn't see me, because of the trees, and therefore didn't yell "Fore!," and I couldn't see her, because of the trees, to pay attention to her shot (as I ALWAYS try to do whenever any golfer is in any position to hit me) and take cover as necessary.
I'm not the litigious type, so I didn't serious consider my legal options -- but I gave some passing thought to doing so, with the hope that a lawsuit would help to discourage the planting of Stupid Trees.
My advice: Yell "FORE" -- lustily, in your loudest possible voice -- whenever you hit a ball toward any part of the golf course that you can't see, whether or not you think someone might be there. If you needlessly scare a few people not in harm's way ... c'est le golf!
Dan