Golf

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Now Rabbi Emanuel Cohen wasn’t your ordinary, average, run of the mill golfer I’d have you know. Oh no, he was not only a superb golfer who played off a scratch handicap he was a true enthusiast, if not to say a fanatic. His entire life revolved around the game. His clubs cost more than most people’s cars and he had a temperature and humidity controlled room at home in which to keep them. His shoes and the clothes he played in were of the finest quality, nothing but the best. His top of the range Volvo estate had set him back just over £60,000 by the time it had been fitted out with all the various racks and fittings to take his golf equipment.

But today was Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement, so a round of golf was out of the question. Having completed his duties in the synagogue and all his obligations not just the ones specific to the day, but all his obligations, for he was a devout man as one would expect, he was taken ill when praying. He was awaiting cholecystectomy, surgery for the removal of his gall bladder, and was taken from time to time with extreme pain which could last hours or maybe just twenty minutes. He was told to go home and rest as soon as he could drive safely and his duties would be taken care off.

He started to feel better, well enough to drive, and reluctantly went home. However, once he’d driven a mile or so he started to feel like his usual self and contemplated going back, but he knew he would be told he was a fool, to get back in his car and go home to rest. But Satan never rests, and he sent an imp to whisper temptation in our good Rabbi’s ear. Sitting all unfelt on his shoulder, the imp whispered, “You have the rest of the day to yourself, your golf gear is in the car, and no one who knows you will be on the golf course. And of course you pass it on your way home. You may as well play a round as be sitting at home doing nothing.”

“Impossible,” The Rabbi muttered though he was tempted. “Today is Yom Kippur. Impossible!”

The imp changed shoulders and continued with his beguilement, “Go on. Play a round. It’ll make you feel better.”

But the good Rabbi was having none of it. “Today is a day for repentance, charity and prayer. No. I tell you. No.”

Satan, realising the imp was getting nowhere, recalled the imp and sent a devil, a far more devious and cunning creature than any imp, sure that would do the trick. “You’ve given to charity and written off a few debts too. You’ve truly repented and are committed to doing better next time and you’ve spent hours in prayer already today. You’ve been in pain too, now you need to relax, take your mind off your troubles. Play a round.”

“No. No. And no again. It’s not right.”

The devil who was sitting behind the Rabbi, he was too big for the Rabbi’s shoulder, tried again, “Everything you should have done you’ve done. There’s no risk of being seen, and you do have that new putter that you’ve not tried on a green yet. Tell you what, half a round, just half a round. Go on.”

But our Rabbi was made of sterner stuff and was resolute and steadfast in his refusals.

Satan realising that the situation called for all the stops to be pulled out, recalled the devil and went himself. Sitting in the front passenger seat like an old friend he said, “I’ll make sure no one sees you. I’ll do it my self. You need to relax and put that pain behind you. I’ll even give you a personal guarantee of no more pain till the operation. I can’t say fairer than that, and you know you want to play.” The game was up for the anguished Rabbi, it was the offer of no more pain that was his undoing, he turned into the club car park and taking everything he needed he walked slowly into the club house to change. Satan had dealt true, no one saw him, no one bade him hello. Nothing. It were as if the Rabbi were invisible.

The Rabbi teed off at the first hole and was playing well. His feelings of guilt were evaporating. Satan had to be given his due he was good at what he did. To help the Rabbi overcome his guilt completely Satan was surreptitiously assisting the Rabbi to play, and it worked. When the Rabbi was walking to the twelfth things became a little more serious, for unbeknownst to either him or Satan they had been observed by Moses, who was absolutely outraged.

Now Moses was only ever truly at ease with God when she assumed her patriarchal form, and was a little distracted as he plucked her sleeve to attract her attention, she was after all wearing what he considered to be a rather fetching, floral print, summer frock. They were sitting on a delightful cloud taking afternoon tea together in the sunshine discussing recent events concerning several world leaders. “God. God. Do you see what I see?”

“Indeed. Emanuel is playing remarkably well today is he not?”

“You seem remarkably calm about it, especially in the face of Satan’s involvement. Do you actually know what day it is today.”

God was in playful mood and sweeping her palm back over her tresses in the age old gesture said in stereotypical Yiddish tones, “Do I know vot day it is?” Seeing Moses was really upset she stopped teasing and continued in her normal calm voice. “There is only one way to deal with this, Moses. I’ll just have to outsatan Satan. Just be patient and watch. Now settle down, Moses, you’ve never been the same since I parted the Red Sea for you. You really should have mastered your nerves by now, and you can’t blame everything on being abandoned as a baby. I’ve told you before you really should cultivate a better sense of humour.”

Now the twelfth was a fiendishly, if you’ll forgive the term, difficult hole. At eleven hundred and twenty-three yards double doglegged around a quarry, a small copse of tall trees and a lake it was the only par eight in existence when it was laid out and there was ongoing discussion as to whether it should be counted as two holes. When the course had been laid out the intention had been to have two holes there, but proximity of the quarry to the lake made that impracticable, for there wasn’t enough room between them for an acceptable green, and the lake to the right of the fairway precluded a green on that side. So the narrow belt of trees had been planted across the line from the tee to the green between the quarry and the lake.

The reason for planting the trees was two fold. One to minimise the number of balls ending up in the quarry and the lake thus minimising player frustration in order to keep members, and two to force players to turn their direction of play to the left. Players had a choice playing past the quarry. They could play a shorter shot and then play to the left in front of the trees or play a longer shot up to the lake and then play again to the left but on the far side of the trees. Both choices left the player with a line of sight to the green. Perversely it was the unique and difficult hole that attracted the media attention during major competitions which in turn created the waiting list for membership, and there was a sizeable body of committee members of the opinion that the hole should be left alone for just that reason.

As the Rabbi readied himself at the tee, Moses could tell God was planning something but he couldn’t for life of him, and he’d lived more than a few, think what it could be. As the Rabbi’s club hit the ball, God’s lower lip twitched at one corner, no more, just a twitch. The ball arced high over the right hand edge of the quarry, the center of the belt of trees and the left hand side of the lake like a bullet towards the green, which was not where the Rabbi had intended it to go. It was literally a super human shot. Well God was wasn’t she?

Now Moses, who was no mean player of the game of golf himself, playing off a handicap of four with no divine intervention, was just a little peeved, for he’d been hanging out with God long enough to have picked up a few tricks and knew the Rabbi’s intended shot would have been a magnificent one even without any help, but having been thrashed by Gabriel on the Heavenly Choirs course two days before didn’t help his attitude any. God of course didn’t play because there was little point as she’d never have taken more than eighteen to finish any and every course ever conceived never mind actually created. To his horror Moses saw the ball hit the smooth grass of the green and roll straight into the hole.

“God! God! What are you doing? I was expecting a lightening bolt to strike him dead for such blasphemy, or paralysis of his right arm for a month at the very least! What were you thinking about? You gave him a hole in one on the twelfth. You’ve given him his dream.”

God smiled, a smile that if it had been on any other than her face would have been described as wicked, and said, “I know, but who can he tell?”

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Comments

Brilliant

punch line.
Thanks

Samantha

אַלט ייִדיש וויץ

Comodine's picture

When my grandmother was a child her grandfather was telling her ... another version of this GOOD joke, but nothing to do with TG stories
Apart from this slight detail; it's well told


who haves nothing to say leave a proverb

(Chinese proverb)

No such thing as a new joke!

The original was told me by a Jewish friend of mine decades ago. A born raconteur if ever I met one. I just wish I could remember more of his tales/jokes.
Regards,
Eolwaen

Eolwaen

obviously written

by someone in England as half the references don't make any sense.

The overall story i get but some of the references I really don't.

References

Sorry to be pedantic but at the moment Scotland not England, it's like calling someone from the northern US a yanky. Let me know the references you don't understand because they do make sense. If you do that I'll try to avoid the problem in future. Normally I translate for US readers as I go. An example from Sacrifice, Honour and Legends is below.

An adult Oumajali warrior massed fifteen hundred kilos or more [at least thirty-three hundred pounds, a ton and a half] stood six feet at the withers and could gallop at forty-five miles an hour for several hours fully armed. The razor sharp steel shoes on his each of his four hooves massed three or four kilos apiece [six to nine pounds each] and he carried weaponry and armour that weighed more than one of the enemy. These two warrior mares were tiny, at most sixty-five kilos [a hundred and forty pounds], a hand span less than six feet shoes to mane and possibly capable of ten miles per hour for an hour carrying nothing, certainly not carrying a foal.

Regards,
Eolwaen

Eolwaen

Who is?

erin's picture

As to who is and is not a Yankee, the distinction was explained to me about forty years ago. Outside the USA, a Yankee is anyone from inside the US--which is especially annoying to American Southerners, Hawaiians and Native Americans because inside the US, it's recognized that the real Yankees are from New England, the six northeastern-most states.

But if you go to New England, you'll be told that being a Yankee is an attitude more than anything and that people from Vermont have more of that attitude than anyone.

Of course, any Vermonter will tell you that a Yankee is someone who would eat pie for breakfast, if they could get it.

Hugs,
Erin

= Give everyone the benefit of the doubt because certainty is a fragile thing that can be shattered by one overlooked fact.

Nothing ever changes

Identity has always been thus. Yankee, Jock (Scotsman as opposed to sport player) Trans &c.. It seems the only thing that really counts is who do your people tell jokes about. The English tell Irish jokes, the Irish tell Donegal jokes, folk from Donegal tell jokes about those who live on the coast, somwhere on the Donegal coast is the person who is at the end of the line. I've always wondered who she tells jokes about.

My only connection with yankees is that I used to watch 'The New Yankee Workshop with Norm Abram' which gave lots of folk the opportunity to tell jokes about me. Apparently there was something risible about a woman watching stuff like that, when I should have been watching reality TV!
Regards,
Eolwaen

Eolwaen

Mini-Golf

erin's picture

God, an IRS man, a priest, and a rabbi are playing mini-golf. After six holes, the IRS man is leading with 21, God at 24 and the two clergymen tied at 26. It’s a good tight game and everyone is playing well.

The priest has been trying to get up his nerve to talk privately to God and he finally manages to ask what’s been on his mind. “God, he says, I’ve been a good man, I’ve tried to help my flock and follow church teachings and abide by Your Holy Word. What I want, well, what I want to know, what I’d like is some assurance that I’m going to Heaven.”

God smiled on his priest. “Sure,” He said. “You’ve been a good man and a fine priest and if you continue as you’ve been doing, your place in Heaven is assured.” Much relieved to hear that, the priest thanked God, praised Him and moved away to smile happily as he prepared for the next hole.

Seeing the priest had spoken with God, the rabbi stepped up, too. “Sir,” he said. “We Jews don’t necessarily believe in Heaven but we are promised a reward if we keep Your Commandments. I think I have done so, I have certainly tried and I would like to receive the sort of assurance You gave the priest that my life has pleased You.”

God smiled down at him. “And aren’t you one of My Chosen People? You keep the Commandments, you have done mitzvahs as you should. And yes, you will be rewarded for being good and kind and faithful.” And the rabbi also moved away smiling.

Seeing the other two so happy to have received God’s blessing, the IRS man approached the Presence of the Deity. “I’m a humble man, God. I don’t have the knowledge the other two have of what I should do. I have a terrible job and I know that I have made other people unhappy. But wasn’t Matthew also a tax collector? I guess, what I’m asking is if there is going to be a place for me in Heaven, too.”

God frowned down at the tax man and the sky seemed to be a little less bright. “I hate to tell you this,” said God. “But if you keep hitting eagles like you did on the last two holes, you’re going to Hell.”


Mini-Golf from JoyceMelton.com
Posted on 10 Jul 2014

= Give everyone the benefit of the doubt because certainty is a fragile thing that can be shattered by one overlooked fact.

GBLA

Even though I am a founder member of the GBLA (Golf Ball Liberation Army) I thought that was excellent, Erin. Still chuckling.
Regards,
Eolwaen

Eolwaen

jewish joke from thousand years ago

Comodine's picture

A joke that we tell from Al Andalus:
How to distribute what is for the church,what is for you from the money of the quest?

the Priest answers:
It's simple, I throw all the pieces in the air, the ones that fall on the cross side are for the church and the others for me.

The imam answers:
I draw a line between East and West, I throw the pieces in the air; all those falling on the east side are for the mosque, the others are for me.

The Rabbi answers:
I throw all the pieces in the air, what God wants him to keep; what falls is for me


who haves nothing to say leave a proverb

(Chinese proverb)

Caddy Shack

joannebarbarella's picture

All serious golfers must have seen the movie.

Having said that, I loved this story. Devilish!

Although a devout atheist (and non golfer)

I loved this story. Your comments to other correspondents indicated that I may have been correct in thinking, only after the final line, that I may have heard it somewhere before.
That was no matter. It was so fresh that the feeling of dejas vue only arrived AFTER the punchline.
May the blessings of my (nonexistent) god, go with you.

Golf

I’m too irreligious to be an atheist, and as I commented earlier I'm a founder member of the GBLA. I mean have you seen what they do to those poor things! Place them on an elevated stand for all to see and make them wait to be whacked over the head just to see how far they go. If golf balls were meant to fly they'd have wings. The trauma of waiting alone must be enormous. Then if they don’t lose them golfers corral them into little holes just for laughs. It has to be stopped.

But seriously the danger of golf is just think who you could meet on the links. Trump isn’t the only golfer in the world you’d rather avoid, though I’m not sure if Boris plays or not.
Regards,
Eolwaen

PS. It was unecessary to say you were an atheist and a non golfer. Isn't Golf one of the world's most popular religions?

Eolwaen

Time for wellies?

Jamie Lee's picture

That was excellently told. There is a shorter version, but hands down this is the better version.

As to all the comments, me thinks it's time to put on some wellies.

Others have feelings too.