Art’s Wallow

I was playing golf last summer at Bradshaw Farm with Art Meyer when he created his Wallow.

Wallow intr.verb. To roll the body about indolently or clumsily in or as if in water, snow, or mud.
noun. A pool of water or mud where animals go to wallow or the depression, pool, or pit produced by wallowing animals.

We were on the 8th hole on the Red course — the par 3 with the pond beside the road as you turn into Bradshaw Farm. Art hit a rare bad shot that was about 20 yards short and right of the green, landing at the edge of the pond. When we got to the green, we saw that the ball was about 18 inches inside the pond but only half submerged. Art indicated that he was going to play it as it lies.

While I stood on the green and watched with delighted anticipation, Art removed his right shoe and sock and tentatively entered the pond. Ignoring toe-hungry snapping turtles, ankle-biting water snakes, and the drop off to deep water just behind him, Art carefully took his stance. His swing was smooth and he kept his head still, which is very hard to do when mud and water are going to fly in your face. I watched the ball fly into the middle of the green and roll to the back fringe.

When I looked back at Art, he was on his knees in the water. I’ve never witnessed such an overt example of a prayer on a golf course (but I might give it a try). Art crawled out of the pond on all fours. He took off his left shoe and poured out the water and mud. He squished onto the green and two putted for a bogey. As we walked off the green, I noticed that a mud splatter covered most of the back of his shirt. His hat had mud on it too.

Later Art told me that his left foot had slipped into the pond after he hit the shot and he went down onto his knees to avoid falling back into the pond. Occasionally, golf can be very entertaining.