HOW TO LINE UP YOUR FOURTH PUTT: and Hole-In-One Stories

By Chuck Furjanic

The good, the bad, and the ugly are facts of life for golfers.In this book, you will be experiencing stories where good shots are plentiful: like hole in ones, bombastic drives, and long putts. Euphoric moments when US flags, rocks, Pepto Bismol, and beating your handicap make life and golf worthwhile.You will be experiencing bad shots like slices bouncing off trees, four, five, and even six putts and disappointment of not winning a convertible. Balls ricocheting off bunker rakes, putts rolling into the water hazard, and a ball proudly displayed in a university trophy case sporting a red scuff mark, a result of hitting a chimney.You will see truly ugly shots turning exasperation into exhilaration as Hooter's girls, fellow pros, and awestruck golfers look on in amazement!Stories of a fist full of dollars on the greens and for a few dollars more on the munis would even have avid golfers like Clint Eastwood reading this book!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Nov 21, 2022
• ISBN: 9781662469305

Book preview

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HOW TO LINE UP YOUR FOURTH PUTT

and Hole-In-One Stories

Chuck Furjanic

Copyright © 2022 Chuck Furjanic

All rights reserved

First Edition

PAGE PUBLISHING

Conneaut Lake, PA

First originally published by Page Publishing 2022

Edited by Maria C Furjanic

Illustrated by Suz Carlson

ISBN 978-1-6624-6927-5 (pbk)

ISBN 978-1-6624-6930-5 (digital)

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

The Elusive Hole in One

Joe Bob's Revenge

A Splash of Sarcasm

Well, Blow Me Down

An Assist from the Roof

Whiffed for a Win

Was It the Driver?

Santa May Have Used This Chimney

The Albatross Hockey Puck

A Bandito Partner

Stripes for the Sarge

A Tree Shot Hole

Dead Center

Roscoe Helps Out

Claymore Does It Again

Handy Makes Good

It Was Raked Over

Uncle, Uncle, I Give Up!

My Eyes Have Seen the Glory

Totally Maxed Out

The Twins

The Bonecrusher Approach

How to Properly Line Up Your Fourth Putt…or Fifth Putt!

A Forty-Foot-Four Putt

How Does It Feel to Be Coordinated?

Suffering from Frostbiteitus!

The Lucky Thirteenth

A WRIGLEY PUTT

One Foot at a Time

The Roller Coaster

A Dunhill Dillie

A Jigger for Your Thoughts?

Drained and Bunkered

Tom's Valley of Sin in Tucson

A Shocking Q School

It Happened to Me!

Like Pulling Teeth

The Greens Were Green

Loot on the Munis

The Illegal Opens

The Menace of Skenandoa

About the Author

To Zoe, Isaac, and Avery

Three wonderful grandchildren

The author getting ready to tee it up at Colorado Springs Country Club's 2nd hole with majestic Pikes Peak in the background.

Golf is a game like no other. You are out there all by your lonesome. Just you, the course, elements, and the ball.

My first encounter with the game of golf came out of my mother's necessity. With school ending for the summer break, she was at wit's end finding safe things for a twelve-year-old to do. Fortunately, a schoolteacher-neighbor played golf. He took me as his caddy after my mother endlessly prodded him to get me out of the house.

He was a fairly good player with a better-than-average swing and seldom hit wild shots, usually keeping the ball in play. My central focus was carrying the bag and observing, not searching for wayward golf balls. After a few holes and fascinated with the game, I asked if I could hit a few after the round was over. At the course we were playing, the green fee was for all day.

On our second loop, when we got out of sight of the clubhouse, we came to a 290-yard par 4. He gave me his driver, and mentally mimicking his swing of all the previous holes and taking a few practice swings, I hit the ball about 160 yards, hit a 5 iron three feet from the hole, and made the putt.

Easy game!

Sure!

Well, it took me nearly all summer to make the next birdie!

I was hooked even though the ball sliced!

My dad sang in the church choir and was friendly with the priest who played an occasional round of golf. One evening, my dad hosted a Pinochle card game and the priest was one of the four players. The conversation of my golfing aspirations was bantered around, and Father Georgavich gifted me with a set of 7 clubs, all hickory wooden shafted, midiron, mashie, mashie niblick and niblick (3-5-7-9), putter, brassie (2 wood), and spoon (3 wood).

Play set of wood shaft clubs

Even though steel/metal shafted clubs were made legal for play in the USA in 1926, the R&A 1930, many players were slow to transition to the newfangled golfing implements. In 1951, wooden shafted clubs were used by participants in the US Amateur at Saucon Valley.

Armed with my new set of old hickory wooden shafted clubs, that summer, at sunup, I walked five miles to a par 61 course. I would play 36, 45, even 54 holes, then walk the five miles back home before dark. In those days, a kid could hitchhike rides, so many times, it worked out just fine.

An uncle of mine, a pharmacist, was an avid golfer. During a Christmas family celebration, he heard of my golfing interest and gave me his old set of Haig Ultra woods and irons—with steel shafts! The wooden shafted clubs wound up in the garage and were an impetus for future forays into the realm of golf.

When we moved to our new house on the streetcar line, for a dime, I could ride the streetcar to Schenley Park, a Pittsburgh City Muni that sold a summer youth pass at the amazing fee of $2.50. Kids could play all day Tuesdays and Thursdays, and after 3:00 p.m. on any other day, except Saturday and Sunday. The Pro, God rest his soul, Monty Onoretta, became my mentor. Monty held the course record. One summer day, a player tied the course record over the par 66 layout, and Monty was so mad he played every day until he broke the record.

That taught me how to be competitive.

After graduating from Slippery Rock State Teachers College, I decided to turn Pro playing for money during the summer and teaching as a reading specialist in the Pittsburgh schools during the golf off-season. Monty told me about a driving range in Munhall, Pennsylvania (about four miles from Schenley Park), so I went there and convinced the owner to let me give lessons.

Monty despised giving lessons to women. He sent them over to seek my tutelage, providing a jump-start in teaching golf, thus, bringing extra business to the range. I would pay for the balls and give a thirty-minute lesson for $5.00. The wash bucket of balls (about eighty-five) cost $1.50 and $3.50 went in my pocket. The range owner gave me no freebees. I had to pay for every ball.

He taught me frugality, responsibility, and humility.

Golfers have many things in common: clubs, balls, and as someone once said, A good walk spoiled. There are so many stories—some believable, some not—about the game that has hooked, humbled, gratified, and fulfilled their desperate need to