We're driving south on a four-lane road. There's a center lane for left-turns, so, to be specific I am four lanes over from the roadside on the right. The roadside on the right is composed of an overpriced mud-track known as the Starfire Golf Course. Starfire? Should be called Mudhole.

Any way, the route I am driving leads me past the first hole of Starfire's East Course. The first hole is a straightforward par four. There's water directly to right of the tee which only comes into play if you've hit a dead shank. Further down the right is grassy wash area that poses no real problem. The road I am traveling sits less than 20 yards to the left of the tee box.

It's about 3:00 on a fine Fall afternoon. I am going about 35mph and minding my own business. I am about a quarter-mile from the first tee of the east course and closing fast. When, suddenly, an object bounces in front of me, comes up over my hood, and strikes the windshield just in front of Lori's face.

Remember, I am four lanes over from the the roadside. The tee box is 20 yards from the roadside. And I just took a direct shot to the windshield by a fast moving golf ball.

As a driver, I understand that these things happen. But as a golfer. I am deeply offended. I was just victimized by some dummy's over-rotated, over-the-top, decel, snap-pull hook, a problem this dope could have fixed if he didn't think he was Phil Mickelson (Come to think of it, he does have some Phil in that shot!).

Displaying much bravado, I flipped a U Turn at the tee box, I cruised alongside the tee as Hacker McGee was hitting a second shot. I yelled at the "players" wanting to know who had chopped their ball left into the street. Neither player looked up as they dashed to their cart for their getaway.

Cart riders, Starfire, they were made for one another!