Four men were getting ready to tee off on the first hole when a gentleman walked up to the guy on the tee and handed him a card. It read "I am deaf and dumb. May I please play through?"
The guy says, "Get out of here! Some people use any excuse to get ahead! Go away!"
The deaf and dumb gentleman backed away and waited until the four guys were on their way down the fairway. The original four finally made it to the green, and it was the turn of the guy who yelled at the deaf and dumb gentleman to putt. He was lining it up, when suddenly 'Whack'! He got nailed on the back of the head by a ball and knocked unconscious.
When he woke up he was lying in a hospital bed, and the first person he saw was the deaf and dumb gentleman, holding up FORE fingers.
 a game that consists of a lot of walking, broken up by disappointment and bad arithmetic.
 a game of opposites - the world's slowest people are ahead of you, and the fastest are behind.
 a colorful sport that keeps you on the green, in the pink, and financially in the red.
 a game which is allowed to be played on Sunday (under blue laws) because it was not considered a game by the law, but a form of moral effort.
 a game a lot like taxation - you drive hard to get to the green, and then you find yourself in a hole.
GOLF CART, n.
 A popular mode of transportation because, unlike a caddie, it can neither count, criticize, nor snicker.
 a person who yells "fore," takes six, and puts down five;
 a guy who has the advantage over a fisherman - he doesn't have to bring home anything when he brags he had a great day.
It was a sunny Saturday morning, and Murray was beginning his pre-shot routine, visualizing his upcoming shot when a voice came over the clubhouse loudspeaker. "Would the gentleman on the Ladies tee back up to the men's tee, please!"
Murray was still deep in his routine, seemingly oblivious to the interruption.
Again the announcement, "Would the MAN on the WOMEN'S tee, kindly back up to the men's tee!"
Murray had had enough. He broke his stance, lowered his driver back to the ground and shouted, "Would the announcer in the clubhouse kindly be quiet and let me play my second shot?"
Our pastor, an avid golfer, was once taking part in a local tournament. As he was preparing to tee off, the organizer of the tournament approached him and pointed to the dark, threatening storm clouds, which were gathering around.
"Preacher," the organizer said, "I trust you'll see to it that the weather won't turn bad on us?"
Our pastor shook his head. "Sorry," he replied. "I'm sales, not management!"