It’s golf season again. I can tell by the air. It’s filled with much more expletives than usual.

I look forward to golf season every year. The short-cut grass, the high-priced greens fees and the chance to show off how I can bounce a ball off a wedge behind my back, under my legs and off the bill of my hat like Tiger Woods.

Golf is synonymous with two names, Happy Gilmore and Tiger Woods. If you go to a driving range, I guarantee some doofus will be set up about five feet behind the ball, run up to it and give it a good whiff.

I should know. I worked at a driving range for years. I started by driving the tractor on the driving range. You don’t have to tell me, I know you always tried to hit me. And yes, I have been hit with a golf ball. I don’t know why people think it is funny to hit a golf ball at a lonely guy standing in an open field. I guess they’re the same sick people who think it’s funny to see guys get hit in the groin.

I also worked on a public golf course, which gave me the opportunity to see some wild stuff. I’ve seen people swimming in a pond by the third hole (they said they were diving for golf balls). I’ve seen a guy take a flagstick out of the hole and put it in his golf bag. I’ve seen a guy pick up his entire golf bag and throw it at his car in the parking lot (I don’t think he liked the fact that I was laughing when he was doing it).

I’ve seen guys get clubs stuck in trees, thrown in ponds and lost in sandtraps. I once saw a guy drink water from a sprinkler and saw the same guy trying to surf on top of a golf cart (unsuccessfully I might add).

I’ve seen guys get aggravated at every level. One guy threw his ball onto the green after missing it several times. I’ve seen golf bags with two clubs in them; I’ve seen bags with 25 clubs in them (14 is the limit). I’ve seen two guys compete to see who could throw a club the furthest.

Who said golf is a boring sport?