This took place in a golf tournament I was playing in a few years ago.
There was a long drive contest on the 18th hole. The way a long drive competition works in a tournament is there is a little marker with a pad of paper on it out in the fairway. If you hit your ball in the fairway past the marker, you sign the paper, and place the marker next to where your ball was. It’s an honor system sort of thing, but then again, that’s golf for you.
I was in the second-to-last group, one of my good friends was in the group behind me. I step up to the tee, tee up, and free the beast all over that golf ball. By some fluke, it ends up drawing down the right side of the fairway. I crushed this thing. Based on yardage left, I hit this ball a little over 330 yards. I had the previous long drive beat by almost 20 yards. I happily signed the marker, and put it next to my ball.
After I finished the hole, I walked off the green, and watched the foursome behind us tee off and play the hole in. You know, waiting for my friend, and to see if anybody beat my drive. Now, the men’s tee box that we were supposed to play from was on the left side of the hole, and the ladies was 40 or so yards up and on the right side of the hole. I saw one of the guys tee up from the ladies tee, hit his drive, walk up, sign the marker, and move it to his ball. That shit ain’t right.
They finish the hole, and my friend comes up to me and confirms my suspicions. This chucklefuck had hit from the ladies tee and taken my long drive. He beat me by two yards. I went up to the asshole, and had this conversation with him.
Me: “Are you really going to take that drive?”
Me: “That’s cheating, chief. You didn’t win.”
Him: “Do you have any proof?”
Well, fuck. It’s his word against mine. The other guys in his foursome are his friends. My jimmies are at maximum overrustle.
We go to the post-tournament dinner. Sure enough, when they call the long drive winner up, this smug fucknut goes up and collects his (my) $50 Tim Hortons gift card.
Oh, but what’s this? He dropped something when he stood up. It’s his door prize raffle ticket. It’s number 77. Well, I’m just going to take this, you know, for my troubles. I lean over in my chair, and snag it off the floor
An hour later, we’re at the final prize. It’s the door prize draw. The prize? A $1000 MasterCard prepaid gift card. The MC rifles through the drum with the tickets. The universe must have been on my side that day, because the MC pulls out a ticket, and speaks into the microphone.
“The winner of the MasterCard prepaid card is… Ticket 77.”
Asshole McTerribleperson loses his shit. He’s jumping up and down, yelling “I won I won I won ohmygod I won!”
He runs up to the front to the MC, who then asks for the winning ticket. Fuckface sticks his hand in his back pocket. Then his other back pocket. Then the side pockets. His face looks like he just watched his dog just get run over. Repeatedly.
I’m crazy excited at this point, but I make a show of checking my ticket. Then I hold up the ticket and call out,
I run up to the front, and give it to the MC.
Douchebag McGee isn’t happy about this. He starts yelling about how I stole his ticket and ticket 77 was totally his and I’m a cheater and a liar.
I look him dead in the eyes, and ask him deadpan “do you have any proof?”
He looks like he’s about to cry. The MC sends him to sit down, and I collect the $1000 dollar gift card.
Because I’m the type to salt the wound, as I leave, I walk past his table, and say quietly to him “Enjoy your Tim card. You deserve it.”
Pretty sure he popped a blood vessel. But I didn’t stick around to find out. I had beers to buy for my friends.
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