Golf

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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